Limon Asphelder.
The one thought to be a relic of the past.
The hero once called the guardian deity of humanity.
Seeing him claim to be a mere human even after achieving the superhuman feat of defeating a Monarch, Lee Chun-gi finally understood.
A Sword Master.
An existence that reached the state of eternal youth and immortality through nothing but the swinging of a blade, without borrowing the power of Constellations or any other mysteries or supernatural abilities.
They were superhumans among superhumans—true monsters that even dragons and demon gods feared.
The absolute beings who once reigned at the pinnacle of the world.
And the man standing before him now was the final survivor of that breed.
“…Is it because you hate showing off your strength that you took the President hostage and went on a rampage?”
For some reason, even though it was a fact he already knew, Lee Chun-gi couldn’t bear the surging tension and found himself blurting out a retort.
Limon smirked at those words.
“I said I didn’t want to be a monster; I never said I wanted to be a pushover.”
He could tolerate ignorant kids acting out.
But when those brats use their status as minors to commit murder, rape, and plunder, it is human duty to strike them dead.
If he were to spare his strength even then, wouldn’t that just be playing some pathetic game of being a hidden powerhouse?
Limon spoke without a hint of hesitation.
Watching him, Lee Chun-gi thought to himself.
‘His very concept of things is different from ordinary people.’
It wasn’t that Limon was making an argument that might have worked in the Middle Ages—that it’s natural to kill even a child if they show signs of evil.
Whether the subject was a President, a Monarch, or even an entire country.
He was speaking from a perspective of viewing them all as children.
Lee Chun-gi could feel it.
That wasn’t a perspective one could have just by living long enough to see the rise and fall of a nation.
It was a viewpoint only possible for someone who had watched over a country of tens of millions as if it were a garden they had to protect, nurture, and grow—much like an old man who has tended to his garden his whole life treats every single flower and tree as his own child.
‘The vision of an absolute being, is it…?’
Inadvertently, Lee Chun-gi wondered if he had ever looked at the world from such a perspective even once, and then he let out a bitter chuckle.
He knew better than anyone that he hadn’t.
Before being an absolute being, he was a Monarch.
No matter how high his level was, in the end, he was just a Player who lived thinking only of how to use his own power, exactly as Limon had said.
“May I ask just one last thing?”
“You’re a funny bastard. You’ve been asking whatever you wanted until now, so why ask for permission all of a sudden?”
Limon challenged him as if he found it absurd.
However, Lee Chun-gi did not stop.
Since Limon hadn’t explicitly said no, he took it as permission and asked in a low voice.
“The principle and meaning of the Demon-Slaying Dragon Sword you mentioned—if I understand that, will I be able to use a sword like yours too?”
It was a sudden question.
But Limon was not flustered.
It was as if he knew Lee Chun-gi would ask that from the beginning.
Or as if he were impressed that the man had managed to hold it in until now.
He chuckled before putting on a mischievous expression and answering the question.
“No, you’d only gain the minimum qualification to learn it.”
“Is that so.”
“Are you disappointed?”
“Having been able to hear that answer is enough for me.”
Lee Chun-gi answered calmly.
It would be a lie to say he felt no regret.
The trajectory of the sword Limon had shown was so enchantingly beautiful that simply knowing he couldn’t learn it felt like a tragedy.
Yet, he wasn’t disappointed.
Because thanks to Limon’s answer, he was able to be certain of one thing.
Having acquired even just a shell of the Demon-Slaying Dragon Sword and having faced Limon’s ever-changing blade multiple times, he had sensed something, however faintly.
The sheer composure contained within that final strike.
…He really is a monster.
He pierced through a thousand skills.
He shattered an immortal sword in a single blow.
He defeated the Monarch of Infinity.
One could boldly declare it the ultimate strike.
It was a sword one could be certain no Monarch could ever withstand.
But even that fantastic sword was merely one of the best methods Limon had chosen to suppress Lee Chun-gi.
It wasn’t his strongest trump card that squeezed out every ounce of his power, like Lee Chun-gi’s [Overload].
If a sword swung with strength to spare was this incredible, just how great would a sword swung with his full sincerity be?
No, before that, was there even an opponent who could make Limon exert his full power?
‘If every other Monarch rushed him at once… would they even be able to draw out this man’s full strength?’
Lee Chun-gi thought instinctively.
Surprisingly, that hypothetical scenario did not include Limon’s defeat.
Even putting the Monarchs, each possessing skills close to invincibility, on the other side of the scale, he couldn’t imagine Limon losing.
To him, the Limon he had experienced was an existence whose depths were unfathomable.
That was why Lee Chun-gi knew.
This was the true absolute being.
Unlike those like himself who acted like absolute beings through power built on cheat skills, this man was an existence that reigned at the peak of the world by his very nature.
“It’s laughable.”
“What is? Your state?”
“Something like that.”
Lee Chun-gi answered Limon’s sarcasm calmly.
It was true that he said it because his own state was laughable—struggling so desperately to surpass ‘that man’ without even knowing such a monster existed.
Perhaps it was because he had let go of his futile obsession.
Limon smirked, seeing Lee Chun-gi’s strangely peaceful face despite his bloody appearance.
“I take it you have no lingering regrets now?”
“It would be a lie to say I have no regrets left, but I am prepared.”
*Cough.*
Lee Chun-gi spat out another mouthful of blood.
Looking straight into Limon’s golden eyes, he spoke quietly.
“Please, end it now.”
His body had already passed its limit.
The fact that he was still alive was only possible because he possessed dozens of survival and healing skills.
But even those could do no more than keep him clinging to life.
He no longer had the strength to run away, let alone fight Limon.
Thus, to Lee Chun-gi, who asked everything he wanted to know until the end and accepted his fate, Limon spoke with a hint of surprise.
“You don’t beg for your life like a dog.”
“Let’s just say I have some pride as a Monarch.”
“Whether they’re Monarchs or nobles, I haven’t seen many who keep their pride until the moment they actually die.”
No matter how much pride they have.
This was an observation based on his experience of killing countless people who, once a sword was at their throats, would offer up their money and even their daughters just to be spared.
Lee Chun-gi’s rebuttal to Limon’s point was simple.
“They aren’t me, are they?”
“A wise answer to a stupid question.”
Limon chuckled and stood up from his seat.
Then, drawing the sword he had sheathed, he spoke in a languid voice.
“Anyway, since you say you’re prepared, I’ll give you the end you want.”
As if the laughter from a moment ago was an illusion, Limon pointed his sword with a face as cold as ice.
Lee Chun-gi did not avoid those eyes.
He simply faced Limon calmly.
It was at that very moment.
*Sssss.*
Limon’s vision, as he held the sword to Lee Chun-gi’s throat, was stained black, and things that were previously invisible became visible.
It was a phenomenon he had already experienced several times.
He was somewhat used to it by now.
But this time was different.
It wasn’t just because Lee Chun-gi’s entire form had vanished from his sight, unlike before when he could only see the Constellations contracted with the Players.
It wasn’t because something was shimmering where Lee Chun-gi had been.
-Gaze.
Gaze, gaze, gaze, gaze, gaze, gaze, gaze, gaze, gaze, gaze, gaze.
Thousands, tens of thousands of eyes that he hadn’t felt just a moment ago but were clearly perceptible the moment his vision was stained black.
As numerous as the grains of sand on a beach.
As vivid as a candle flame before his eyes.
But as black and sticky as the mud of a swamp.
Limon slowly raised his head, following those gazes that felt like needles piercing his entire body.
In that instant, he understood.
The countless stars shining in the night sky.
They were the source and the identity of these myriad gazes he felt.
These were the gazes of the Constellations.
At this very moment.
Tens of thousands, hundreds of millions, perhaps even trillions of Constellations were watching him.
It was pure terror.
An ordinary person would have gone insane just imagining it.
The gazes of the Constellations, beings who transcended human perception, carried that much power and weight.
“…I see.”
But the target of those gazes himself.
Limon did not falter.
He merely spoke in a low voice, slowly scanning the night sky as if to engrave each of those starlights into his eyes.
“So, unlike the pawns you can just use and throw away, a Monarch is a piece too precious for you all to lose?”
Over the past few days, the number of Players who had died by his hand was in the hundreds.
Limon curled his lips into a sneer at the dense gazes and the pressure within them, which he had never felt before.
“Or is just watching the fight not enough, and you want to turn the execution into a spectacle too?”
It was more of a mockery than a question.
It was a one-sided ridicule for the vulgarity of those who treat even someone else’s death as entertainment, not expecting an answer.
It was immediately after that.
As if answering Limon’s question.
Starlight fell from the night sky.
And from the shadow writhing where Lee Chun-gi had been, a snow-white hand lunged out.
Limon could tell.
That was a hand extended from the stars.
From the fact that it was a hand directly offered by a Monarch-grade Constellation—one that stood at the pinnacle even among many stars—to the intention behind reaching out.
Because it was something Limon himself had already experienced once.
Therefore, he could act without hesitation.
[The Constellation protecting the Monarch of Infinity intervenes in reality.]
[The ‘Watcher of All Reflected Scenes’ tells you…]
“You’re in the way.”
*Slash!*
It happened in an instant.
Just as the Constellation’s hand was about to write a system message against the backdrop of starlight.
Limon cut it down before he even finished reading it.
Normally, it would have been a futile act.
It should have been an act that ended in swinging at thin air, much like cutting light with a knife.
But the result Limon’s sword produced was different.
*Shatter!*
[System error, error number k51e0i4. A bug occurred due to a forced system severance during contract proceedings.]
[Fragments of the damaged Constellation are absorbed into the subject.]
[The ‘Watcher of All Reflected Scenes’, whose finger was severed, is in shock.]
A sharp sound of rupturing echoed.
The system messages shattered into pieces.
The hand with the severed finger recoiled in horror and retreated back into the shadow.
All that remained were scattering fragments of light.
Evidence that a mortal’s sword had wounded a great Constellation.
Watching those fragments of light hover in the air before falling at his feet, Limon spoke in a low voice.
“This is my task. It is a blood debt I must collect with my own sword, and the decision is solely my will.”
This was something that began with the cutting down of Yu Na-kyung.
Choosing how and from whom to collect that price in blood was entirely his own will, and something to be achieved with this sword stained with Yu Na-kyung’s blood.
That was his duty, responsibility, and right as someone who had a pathetic subordinate.
“I’m warning you—Constellation or whatever you are, do not interfere in my business.”
He could more or less guess what the Constellations would say.
Whether they’d request him to spare Lee Chun-gi like a cherished pet.
Or command him to kill Lee Chun-gi like spectators in a coliseum.
It would eventually be one of the two.
They would offer the plausible carrot and stick: a contract with a Monarch-grade Constellation if he complied, and retaliation if he refused.
Wasn’t he going to kill him anyway?
So why not get a reward from the Constellations while he was at it?
Bullshit!
If a Constellation said they’d contract with him if he spared Lee Chun-gi, should he give up on collecting the blood debt?
Conversely, if they said they’d contract with him if he killed Lee Chun-gi, should he happily collect the blood debt for an extra reward?
Whether he accepted or rejected any proposal.
The pure blood debt contained in the sword would vanish.
It would merely become an act of murder—watching the Constellations’ moods, calculating the payoff, and taking a life for profit.
He didn’t care if he turned every Constellation in the world into his enemy.
Holding the sword that had pierced Yu Na-kyung right now, he could not tolerate swinging it while mixed with a will unrelated to the blood debt.
There was only one exception.
After it was proven that the Constellations were not uninvolved in this matter.
Only then would he drag the Constellations down from the stars and calculate the blood debt while holding a blade to their throats.
“I seek neither help nor interference in this matter, and I have no intention of even allowing you to watch.”
It might be an outdated way of thinking.
It might be foolish stubbornness.
He didn’t care.
Because this was the way Limon Asphelder had lived his life.
“If there are those who try to interfere, withdraw your hands. If there are those who are peeking, turn your eyes away even now.”
Thus, Limon declared.
Whether it be Constellations, fate, or anything else.
He would not tolerate any intervention in his affairs right now.
It was a warning directed not at a specific individual, but at the world itself.
Arrogant words that threatened even the Constellations.
“If you don’t…”
*Clang.*
As if sheathing a sword.
Limon pulled his sword diagonally behind him.
And holding the hilt with both hands, he looked up at the night sky with eyes that had turned deathly cold.
“I will cut you down.”
In that moment.
The stars closed their eyes.
Strictly speaking, ‘closing eyes’ was an expression that couldn’t apply to stars, which weren’t living creatures.
Nonetheless, that was the only way Lee Chun-gi could describe it.
Because the sight of the stars that had been shining brightly in the night sky vanishing as soon as Limon’s words ended could only be seen that way.
After the last star, which had blinked hesitantly, lost its light.
The world was plunged into darkness, save for the faint light flowing in from the city.
Looking at Limon, who stood alone and noble in the middle of that darkness, Lee Chun-gi asked blankly without realizing it.
“…Are you even human after that?”
“Regrettably, your question time is already over. From now on, it’s my turn to ask.”
Lee Chun-gi had asked with genuine suspicion whether Limon was truly human.
Limon completely ignored that doubt.
Instead, he rested his sword on Lee Chun-gi’s shoulder and spoke in a chilling voice.
“You’d better answer carefully.”
His golden eyes were sunken as heavily as when he had silenced the world… no, even more so.
Staring at Lee Chun-gi with an unidentifiable black shimmer within them, Limon curled his lips into a cold smile.
“Because depending on your answer, it will be decided how painfully you will die.”