Opening the Insight Eye is no different from using a cheat.
Because you can read your opponent’s thoughts, movements, intentions—everything—the difference between someone who has opened the Insight Eye and someone who hasn’t is as vast as the gap between heaven and earth.
Of course, as powerful as its effects are, there aren’t many who have managed to open the Insight Eye.
To put it into perspective, if you searched through the tens of thousands of years of Gritia Continent’s history, you’d find fewer than a hundred people who ever awakened it.
It’s the sort of ultimate ability that might only appear once or twice in an entire era, and even then, it’s never a guarantee.
That’s why those who awaken the Insight Eye in their time are often called the strongest and are recorded in history.
This is just my guess, but perhaps Death was the very first person to open the Insight Eye.
After all, he was the very first Demon Clan member, born at the beginning.
Even among those who open the Insight Eye, their proficiency varies greatly.
If that’s the case, then the proficiency of someone who might have been the first to open it is surely beyond comparison.
Knowing this, I fell deep into contemplation.
Even though I’d obtained the Divine Slayer’s Spear, I could only bring him peace by surpassing someone whose body was engraved with automatic defense.
He is someone worthy of being called a lifelong friend.
To grant his wish, I chose to break through the Insight Eye—a method called State of Selflessness.
For that one method, I devoted countless hours to practice.
And so, through the completed State of Selflessness—through a peak state that even the Insight Eye couldn’t grasp—I was able to grant him rest.
Though, that rest was not an eternal rest, but merely a brief respite.
Had this been the past, had he witnessed my State of Selflessness before, the same method would not have worked.
Yet, once again, history repeated itself.
Forgetting who I was, he could not avoid my attack as I entered a state of Selflessness.
“Ho—how…?”
He ignored the pain driving into his abdomen.
All he cared about was how I had broken through his Insight Eye.
But I cannot give any answer.
In my current state, I move solely with the intent to kill him—driven by that one goal.
My sense of self sinks deep into my unconscious.
Of course, I can still see, sense, and perceive everything, but my self is absent from the act of moving this body.
That’s why State of Selflessness isn’t something to be unleashed carelessly.
You can’t even distinguish between friend and foe—only move toward a single target.
What if something interferes with that target?
No matter who or what it is, I would resort to force, even to killing.
“…You can’t even speak, I see.” Death immediately realized this.
“Kaaang!”
He blocked my attack.
No—he must have thought he blocked it.
“Slik!”
The sword’s trajectory, which had clearly been aiming for the right, suddenly shifted and sliced across his left waist.
“Kh…!”
A groan laced with pain.
But he must be used to pain by now.
What escaped him was a groan of bewilderment, of surprise.
Because this was different from usual.
He could always see through every move with the Insight Eye, but this time he hadn’t predicted it at all.
This was…
‘An oddity born from familiarity.’
He’d spent a long time living with the Insight Eye open.
Not once had there been an opponent he couldn’t read with it.
But to me, who carved out the realm of State of Selflessness, it was useless.
Before he awakened the Insight Eye, he would have read his opponent’s movements through other means and responded accordingly.
But after so much time relying on the Insight Eye, he no longer prepared for situations where it would fail.
But what about the reverse?
‘Left.’
I see it.
State of Selflessness’s purpose is to bring down Death.
And I will employ every means to that end.
Including the Insight Eye.
Though he cannot read me with his Insight Eye, I can read his moves with mine.
As I said before.
There’s a difference as vast as heaven and earth between someone with the Insight Eye and someone without.
That’s right.
The gap between Death and me has widened to that extent.
Of course, my opponent has trained for a time nearly eternal.
But his training was not out of a desire to improve.
He simply sought rest.
His forced strength is powerful, yet fragile.
‘Show me.’
And in the State of Selflessness, I draw out power that even I am unaware of.
“sssht—”
I draw the Infinite sword trajectories.
Those sword arcs fill all of heaven and earth.
Infinite.
The sword I could unleash when I stood atop the Gritia Continent.
That absolute sword strike, that Sword Soul which once destroyed an entire nation, now unfolds.
Of course, it isn’t as perfect as it was at my peak.
This is an incomplete Sword Soul.
Even in State of Selflessness, I can only barely imitate it.
“…..”
Death’s movements ceased.
Just a moment ago, he was doing everything to defend himself, but that guard vanished.
Instead—
“Magnificent!” He uttered praise for the Sword Soul I had unleashed.
Because he knew.
Even if his defense activated, he could not block this sword strike.
So—
“Swish swish swish!”
He allowed the attack to land.
And at that moment—
A strange sensation.
As if our minds were linked, a communion passed between us.
‘What is this…?’
Flooding in came Death’s memories.
His past, which he had never shared even with a friend like me.
***
In the beginning, light was born out of darkness.
The light split from the darkness, divided, and gave rise to many wills—these were the gods.
These mighty, cosmic beings had one desire.
The desire to create.
As if it were only natural, they created dimensions, and in them all manner of lives—plants, animals, everything.
But even after all that, the gods’ desire for creation did not fade.
The gods wanted more.
Beings like themselves—intelligent lifeforms, godlike in wisdom.
Thus, each god created a creature in their own image.
Spirits, Elves, Demon Clan, humans, beastkin—all sorts of sentient races.
The gods gathered in one place with their completed creations, eager to boast about what they had made.
At first, it was nothing but trivial boasting.
But as time passed, each claimed their creation was best, the race most suited to rule the dimension.
Their debate raged day and night without end.
But no matter how much care they put in, nothing could be perfect.
Every race had its clear strengths and weaknesses, and no one could confidently say theirs deserved to rule the dimension.
So, the gods proposed a wager.
Release their finished creations into the dimension and observe how they lived—let the race best suited to rule be chosen as the master race.
Everyone agreed, and the gods set their creations free.
At first, the ones who shone the most were the Spirits created by the god of nature.
With their ability to wield earth, wind, fire, water—nature’s elements—they brought new vitality to the dimension.
But the Spirits were arrogant.
They strutted about as if they were the greatest, shunning contact with other races and creating the Spirit Realm to live in independence.
Angered, the god of nature severed the Spirit Realm, imposing a prohibition so the Spirits could not come and go as they pleased.
The second were the Elves.
Created by the god of the forest, the Elves revered the woods and nature, cultivating the greenery even more beautifully.
But they were too modest to become the master race.
They simply stayed in their forests, living content lives with little ambition to rule the dimension.
The god of the forest grew angry, placing a curse of limitation so they could only live in the forests they loved so much.
If the forest withered, they too would wither—a life bound to the trees and woods.
The third were the Demon Clan.
Created by the god of darkness, this race, while not wise, had ambition.
They craved strength above all.
And that craving was the engine of growth.
Thus, the Demon Clan showed rapid early development compared to the isolated Spirits and Elves.
Seeing this, the god of darkness and those who followed him became convinced the Demon Clan would become the master race.
Because the other contenders were lacking.
The humans, created by the god of light—rival to the god of darkness—were utterly weak.
Physically, mentally, not even wise.
These frail beings had to beg the Spirits, the Elves, the Demon Clan, and others just to survive.
They had no choice—unlike the other races, humans were weak.
Spirits controlled nature.
Elves wielded magic.
The Demon Clan possessed great physical prowess.
While all the others had their strengths, humans were too frail and insignificant.
But the outcome shocked everyone.
Just as the idea that the Demon Clan should be the master race was spreading, an incident occurred.
Murder.
The Demon Clan, driven by desire, killed someone.
All the gods were horrified.
To kill another—such an act was strictly forbidden.
But why?
Why did the Demon Clan kill a human?
Why break a taboo for which they’d never been instructed?
Everyone sought to uncover the truth.
And then they discovered something shocking.
Humans were not wise, but they were cunning.
Created by the god of light, humans secretly eavesdropped on the gods’ conversations.
Upon learning of the wager to choose a master race, this cunning species pondered what it would take for themselves to be chosen.
They could not control nature like the Spirits.
Nor were they as wise as the Elves.
Nor as strong as the Demon Clan.
But they had cunning.
Using that cunning, they devised a way to become the master race.
They flattered the Spirits, fostering their arrogance.
They showed the Elves devastated lands so they would never leave the forest.
And to the Demon Clan, they provoked them with serpentine tongues, inciting murderous intent.
The first human knew.
Even if he died, the humans who came after him would become the master race.
It was an act of self-sacrifice and his sacrifice wrought a miracle.
Because the Demon Clan had committed a taboo, they could not become the master race.
With Spirits, Elves, and Demon Clan—every strong contender gone, of course humans were chosen as the master race.
And for the sin of murder, the Demon Clan was bound by the chains of light and darkness, of good and evil, doomed to endless struggle.
But what happened to the first Demon Clan member?
The one who had ensnared his whole race in the cycle of light and darkness was cursed by the god of darkness with eternal life, unable to die.
That wasn’t all.
No one would remember him.
He would never have a name.
He would live forever, but no one would remember him—a powerful curse.
And so, he continued on, living an eternal life that no one remembered.
At first, he was filled with purpose.
‘I’ll have my revenge on those humans who tricked me.’
Vengeance against the humans who deceived him with their forked tongues.
What did he need for that?
Strength.
The Demon Clan lived for strength.
Given endless time and boundless ambition, nothing was out of reach.
He strove to acquire power that surpassed even the gods.
But he failed time and time again.
For there existed a curse even stronger than his immortality.
The chains of light and darkness, good and evil.
The ancient pact was made between the gods of light and darkness.
Within the eternal history of Heroes and Demon Kings, he could never be the protagonist.
But I am also familiar with those chains.
That’s not what matters.
“….”
The memory of the beginning.
The moment I recalled it , I realized something.
That’s right.
‘I… am the first human.’
The dimension shift I experienced.
None of it was a coincidence.
Through Death’s memories, I was able to recall what I had forgotten.
That I am, in fact, the first human—the one who deceived Death and brought his curse upon him.