Baek Tae-beom had experienced loss too many times to count. He had never truly held anything in his hands. Whenever he tried to grasp something, it slipped away like sand, pouring through his fingers. If one were to ask about his reason for existing, it wasn’t for himself—it was always for others. First, for his family. Then, for his younger brother.
In truth, his life was little more than a directionless drift. Happiness? He didn’t even hope for it. People said they strove to be happy, but Baek Tae-beom found that absurd. Happiness wasn’t something so easily obtained.
Whenever he looked down at his feet, he realized he was standing atop misery.
‘I…’
Again and again, the thought came.
‘Why do I keep…’
The mana stone that held Choi Ga-hyeon grew darker and darker, until it turned pitch black, its interior no longer visible. Baek Tae-beom could only stare blankly at it. Angrboda let out a wheezing, mocking laugh.
‘Behold. Happiness is not something easily attained.’ Even knowing that, he had reached out to grasp it—and inevitably, he lost it. Foolishly and pathetically. Even knowing he shouldn’t, he had dared to call it love. He had become greedy.
Baek Tae-beom loved Choi Ga-hyeon.
And now, he had lost someone he loved yet again.
Baek Tae-beom charged at Angrboda with terrifying speed. His outstretched sword clashed against the spider-like legs of the enemy, letting out a shrill, grating noise. Gagak—! Sparks flew as the blade scraped along the surface, clashing again and again in a contest of force, but eventually, it was deflected.
His coat brushed past by the narrowest margin. Kicking off the ground, Baek Tae-beom leapt into the air and slashed toward Angrboda’s face. But only thick mucus clung to his sword—there was nothing to cut. He shifted direction, making a low, arcing jump. In that brief moment, he spun mid-air and sliced open the cocoon on Angrboda’s back. But all that came loose were threads—there was nothing inside.
He couldn’t land a single meaningful hit. Not even a scratch marked that blue skin. Again, the sword came swinging, and this time, Angrboda grabbed it with one enormous hand.
“You’ve got yourself quite the weapon.”
“You fuck—! Let go, you piece of shit!”
“And if I do… what will you do with it?”
Angrboda asked the question seriously, lowering its massive body and bringing its face close to whisper to the golden-eyed man.
“Will you keep flailing in a struggle that gets you nowhere? Will you wallow in grief over your useless self, lamenting in futility? I ask you, small human.”
Baek Tae-beom gritted his teeth. He glared up at Angrboda with murderous eyes, his neck veins bulging from rage as he screamed.
“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you, and my hyung—!”
“You want to kill me and take back what you desire?”
Angrboda chuckled darkly.
“You’d be better off begging to those worthless, lying gods. Get on your knees and plead—‘please, give back what I love.’ Who knows? Maybe someone might actually help you.”
Baek Tae-beom had the body of an ordinary human. The idea of inflicting damage on a Constellation like that was laughable.
“But alas, little human… there is no such god.”
Angrboda lifted the captured sword into the air and swung it. Baek Tae-beom, still clutching the hilt, was flung through the air and slammed into the wall.
—[Carpores S+]
—[An elegant sword for the one who cleaves truth. Cuts through endless and boundless principles, making them one’s own. Can be obtained by combining a S-rank or higher item with <Sword for the Meek>. Grants a new skill upon use. (Cannot be used more than once.)
The energy of the Crimson Mist lingers around the blade, allowing for more powerful attacks.]
“You had something quite interesting.”
Angrboda narrowed its eyes, smiling.
“This must be the will of your world, no doubt. A desperate plea not to fall into ruin? But it matters little to me.”
Angrboda opened its massive mouth. Then, it swallowed the sword whole. Gulp. Gulp. Its throat bulged grotesquely as if downing something far too large, and only after devouring it all did it tilt its head slightly.
“There isn’t much time left. Look, little humans. The gods remain silent in despair. There is not a single false god who will weep for you.”
Oh Kwon-hyuk believed he was facing a colossal disaster. Like a typhoon, a tsunami, an earthquake, or a landslide—one of those unstoppable natural calamities humans were powerless against.
Looking at Baek Tae-beom, collapsed on the ground, he asked himself—what could he even do?
‘What can I do?’
Oh Kwon-hyuk lifted his head.
It was too big. Unscalable. Impossible. That was his first thought. His Constellation said nothing.
There was no voice to be heard.
The same went for everyone else here. Together with the Constellations who kept silent and turned away, they stood only to face this catastrophe. Even if they moved, they’d just end up like Baek Tae-beom.
Angrboda grinned with smug satisfaction.
“Foolish humans…”
Then it happened.
Baek Tae-beom staggered, forcing himself upright. He spat blood onto the floor, then slowly raised his head.
“Fuck you. Who’re you calling stupid?”
Angrboda slowly shifted its gaze toward him.
“What’s so stupid about wanting to live longer? I never believed in gods anyway.”
Baek Tae-beom rolled his shoulder, letting out a sigh-like breath. Then he swept back his blood-streaked hair. The veins around his eyes had burst, making the skin around them a raw, angry red.
“Even without some god to help me, I can do just fine.”
“With your power, you cannot harm me in the slightest.”
“Yeah, I kind of lost it for a second there. But now that I think about it, I don’t even need to fight you. I just need to get my hyung out.”
“Do you truly believe I will stand by and let that happen?”
Baek Tae-beom raked a hand through his hair, making a mess of it. His yellow eyes had gone cold. The fire that had once burned there was gone, replaced with a sharp, blade-like clarity. Watching him, Oh Kwon-hyuk was struck by a strange thought.
‘Since when did we need to hear a god’s voice to know what to do?’
“Of course you won’t just let it happen. But this declaration isn’t even for you. I’m talking to them—the ones paralyzed with fear, unable to do anything.”
Baek Tae-beom’s ferocious glare crashed into his own group like a blunt weapon. It was nearly physical. Blue Star’s fingers twitched. Yoo Ji-won finally exhaled. Aquila opened her eyes after blinking slowly. Lee Myung-won’s lashes trembled faintly.
Oh Kwon-hyuk gave a crooked smile.
“Who says we’re scared?”
“You look like walking corpses.”
“Tch. Worry about yourself.”
With that brief exchange, Blue Star let out a long breath.
“Shit, I thought I was gonna die. Couldn’t move a muscle.”
“Should’ve smacked your back or something.”
“I’ve got a concert after this, and now I’m worried I’ll be too sore to perform.”
Lee Myung-won winced, furrowing his brow.
“Is this really the time to be talking about concerts?”
“Well, if we survive and make it back alive, we’re going right back to normal life, aren’t we? Why wouldn’t I be worried?”
Yoo Ji-won gasped in exaggerated horror.
“Oh no! My phone battery died, and the stream cut out!”
“People are gonna be even more curious now.”
Aquila’s voice was dry and laced with sarcasm.
Angrboda narrowed its eyes, seemingly displeased. Baek Tae-beom wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, then picked up a random piece of debris nearby. He swung it through the air a few times, then planted his feet in a stance.
“What? Afraid we’ll give up just because even the gods abandoned us?”
“……”
Baek Tae-beom smirked in Angrboda’s face. In his life, gods had never existed. Constellations? He had no interest in any of that.
Baek Tae-beom loved Choi Ga-hyeon.
And that meant it didn’t matter whether Choi Ga-hyeon was a Constellation, a human, or something else entirely.
He hadn’t lost anything. Baek Tae-beom was perfectly aware. Choi Ga-hyeon was still in there. The contract was still intact. They were still connected.
He had lost nothing.
At the exact moment Baek Tae-beom dashed forward, a flurry of skills exploded toward Angrboda. The massive giant roared, flailing its arms.
But none of the skills landed. Rather than being blocked, they simply didn’t work. Baek Tae-beom charged toward the mana stone, but Angrboda remained firmly in his path, rendering all attempts futile. Bang! With a massive crash, Aquila was sent flying. Bullets buried deep into Angrboda’s blue skin only to drip down like water.
Oh Kwon-hyuk tried to brute-force his way through, but it was useless. He only sank deeper into Angrboda’s slimy, viscous form.
“Ggh…!”
“No matter what you do, nothing will change!”
BOOM—Baek Tae-beom was seized by a colossal hand and slammed into the ground. Blood spurted from his mouth. Angrboda lifted him again and smashed him down, over and over.
“I, the true god, am speaking to you! I…!”
“Kgh—ugh…!”
“Listen to me and despair, you wretched humans! I, in my generosity, am speaking to you—!”
And just as Angrboda finished speaking, the mana stone shattered into pieces in all directions.
“Uh—” someone gasped out loud.
Angrboda turned its head, jaw slack. Its eyes widened.
A radiant light pierced through its pupils. Towering over everything was a mountainous presence that pulsed with overwhelming force.
There was earth, there was sky, there was sea, and a colossal figure that cleaved the heavens.
Drenched in pitch-black fluid, Choi Ga-hyeon burst forth, lunging straight for Angrboda and seizing its neck. His jet-black eyes gleamed with unshakable conviction.
“How did you—?!”
“You—!”
Without hesitation, the man shoved his hand into Angrboda’s gaping mouth and yanked the sword free. He didn’t flinch at the black liquid that came pouring out, nor did he hesitate as he pulled the blade and slashed Angrboda’s head clean off.
“You’re no god, you fucking idiot!”
