Chapter 45 — Panic
Nameless's vision trembled as he activated Phantom Eyes and looked into his own legs.
Darkness.
Not surface-level damage.
Not something temporary.
Complete destruction.
Every bone in his legs was shattered into fragments so small that they could never naturally reconnect. Every nerve was crushed flat, like thin sheets pressed beyond recovery. There was no signal, no flow, no life.
Nothing.
Nameless froze.
"…No…"
For the first time, real panic gripped him.
Even he—
Could not fix this.
His mind raced, searching for possibilities, methods, loopholes, anything—but every conclusion led to the same answer.
Hopeless.
He stared at his legs again, disbelief mixing with frustration.
"How… are they even attached?"
From the outside, they looked normal.
No distortion.
No visible damage.
Just… lifeless.
That was the most terrifying part.
A perfect illusion hiding complete ruin.
Nameless clenched his jaw slightly.
His old body—
That was a masterpiece.
Perfectly refined through countless battles, cultivation paths, and endless training.
And this body…
Had even greater potential.
A celestial-type physique.
A rare blessing.
For a moment earlier, he had even felt satisfied.
But now—
Everything collapsed into despair.
His vision dimmed slightly.
A familiar darkness began to rise within him.
Negative thoughts.
Frustration.
Anger.
That cold emptiness he once carried—
It started creeping back.
Then—
A gentle warmth interrupted it.
A soft hand rested on his legs.
Nameless blinked and looked down.
His wife.
She sat beside him, gently massaging his legs with a calm, natural expression.
"…What are you doing?" he asked quietly.
She looked up at him and smiled.
"I'm massaging your legs. I do this every day. Why are you asking like it's new?"
Her tone was light.
Normal.
As if nothing was wrong.
As if this was just another day.
Then the small girl climbed up beside them.
"Me too!" she said happily, placing her tiny hands on his legs and trying to help.
Nameless watched silently.
He felt nothing.
No sensation.
No response.
But still—
He didn't stop them.
They continued for a while, gently, patiently.
After finishing, his wife carefully lifted him.
Effortlessly.
Like it was routine.
She placed him into a wheelchair and took him to the restroom, helping him clean up, dress up, and settle properly.
Nameless said nothing.
He just observed.
This feeling—
It was unfamiliar.
No one had ever taken care of him like this.
Not truly.
There was only one person in his past who came close.
And he had betrayed that person.
That memory stayed with him.
After that—
He was alone.
Always moving.
Always fighting.
Like a lone wolf wandering from one battlefield to another.
Nameless, despite everything, had one weakness.
Loneliness.
He joked.
He acted like a fool.
He forced connections.
All to avoid that silence.
Because even a god…
Cannot endure loneliness forever.
Now—
Someone was here.
Caring for him.
Without fear.
Without expectation.
Nameless lowered his gaze slightly.
"…So this is what it feels like."
His wife came closer and adjusted his position.
"Listen," she said gently, "I have to go to a dungeon. It will take around seven days to clear."
She looked at him seriously.
"Don't try to contact me during that time, okay?"
She gave a few more instructions about the house and their daughter, making sure everything was in order.
Then she turned to leave.
As she reached the door—
Something triggered.
A memory.
From the moment he woke up in the hospital.
From that day onward—
Dreams.
Fragments.
Pieces of another life.
Nameless's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…So it started from there."