Calmly, Sloth—holding Radan’s trident—murmured, and everyone froze.

It was strange.

Sloth’s condition was, even with empty words, hard to call “good.”

His body was no different from a wreck, torn to shreds by countless attacks.

And there was no magic in his murmur.

There was no oppressive pressure in it, either.

He had only murmured as if stating a fact.

And there was only one emotion, too.

Regret.

That was all.

A sense of puzzlement settled over Alon.

What, exactly, was that emotion Sloth was showing?

What, exactly, did it come from?

Why was he making a face like that?

But that worry didn’t last long.

“What a shame.”

Sloth’s words continued, slowly.

And then—

Kwaaaaang-!!!

Right after an explosive roar that felt like it would burst everyone’s eardrums—

“Uweeeek-!”

Radan’s figure came into view, his whole body trembling as he vomited black blood.

In front of him, Sloth was already standing there, composed and imposing.

Radan kept pouring out dark red blood and collapsed to his knees.

And the moment everyone registered that fact, the first to move was Seollang.

Kwaaaang-!!!

At the same speed beyond perception as before, Seollang immediately whipped a foot at Sloth like a lash.

Kwaaaaang-!!!!

With another massive blast, Sloth’s body plowed up the ground as he was shoved straight to the right.

But—

“!”

There was no change in Sloth at all.

He only, boredly, lowered the right hand that had blocked Seollang’s kick.

Seollang’s eyes had gone wide for a moment, but then he deeply furrowed his brow and shot forward.

Crackling golden current made everything around them float, just for an instant.

As if it had become a vacuum, everything rose—then exploded outward all at once.

And Seollang’s fist detonated on Sloth again.

Once more, a mad roar rang out and the ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ entire surrounding scenery overturned.

But this time, too, the sin only slid back—calmly lowering his arm as if there had been no real damage.

Seollang bit his lip hard and charged in again.

Pajik—pajijijik!!

Golden lightning sprayed in all directions, aiming for Sloth’s entire body.

Head, right side. Flank, legs, back—

Lightning appeared, vanished, then appeared again.

The enemy’s body was pushed around this way and that, but only for a moment.

Soon, Seollang lifted a leg and slammed it down, aiming for the head—

“!”

The next instant, in a tiny split second, he twisted his stance.

Barely.

Barely, he blocked Sloth’s counterattack.

Kwagagagagagagak-!!!

It was on a different level.

Seollang was shoved back so far a massive line was carved into the black prairie, and he clenched his teeth, forcing strength into his trembling arm, but—anyone here could tell the outcome without difficulty.

““.......””

Sloth was still a wreck.

But precisely because of that, he gifted everyone silence.

Because everyone watching had already understood.

That in his current state, they would never be able to win against Sloth.

One by one, everyone recalled Sloth’s words.

That he would make them understand that dying to him was only natural—

Sloth’s murmur, neither loud nor soft.

That self-talk-like sentence burned itself into everyone’s mind.

“Ha-”

Someone let out an absurd, hollow laugh.

Someone stared at him blankly, terrified.

Someone just stood there, as if they still hadn’t properly grasped what was happening.

But they all had one thing in common.

All of them—

had no choice but to accept Sloth’s words.

That thing is an opponent you can’t help.

That thing is an opponent you can’t beat.

That thing is an opponent you can’t even do anything about.

The soldiers.

The knights.

The nobles.

The mages.

...understood.

They couldn’t not.

Will drained from their eyes.

Fighting spirit and backbone scattered like an empty wind, and the courage they’d held onto even when those disgusting lumps of flesh were charging in turned into thick fear.

But—

“.......”

Alon’s face was still calm and expressionless.

‘The situation is the worst.’

He coolly assessed the current situation.

Sloth had a different personality than what Alon knew, and the plan he had set up went wrong the moment Sloth appeared.

To put it bluntly, Alon failed.

But even so, Alon didn’t fall into despair.

It was fine.

He still hadn’t shown his final move.

“.......”

Alon looked around.

Sloth was engraving defeat and surrender into the people gathered here, over and over, and after confirming that scene, Alon lifted his gaze.

In the sky, as “scheduled,” the rift was still forming, and his Reverse Heavens still hadn’t been released.

It wasn’t total defeat yet.

“.......”

Alon revealed the plan he’d had in his head, without holding anything back.

So now, he combined only the necessary parts into a new plan.

Naturally, what came out was sloppier than a plan he’d designed by thinking for days and days.

But there was no doubt it was a plan that would work.

Recalling it, Alon quietly stared at the sky.

He could see the “rift,” which had been part of the previous plan.

“.......”

Then what remained was time.

Time they could endure against that ridiculous, unreasonable existence.

Time the rift would remain until the plan was completed.

But among those here, there was no one who could buy time against the “sin of Sloth.”

Not Seollang.

Not Radan.

Not Elivan, the protagonist of Psychedelia.

They couldn’t stop the sin in front of them.

Even if everything to deal with the sin was prepared, the real sin that had appeared before them was, itself, a greater absurdity than anything Alon had known.

Even so, they couldn’t give up.

The moment they gave up, everything would end.

“.......”

Alon fiddled with the statue inside his pocket.

Back then, when he had dealt with the sin of Fastidiousness that had awakened even halfway—it was a one-time artifact he had obtained in the Whispering Labyrinth located in Rosario: the “Beast of Possibility.”

A disposable artifact with the effect of summoning, for a set amount of time, the “user” from their strongest period, according to the setting.

“.......”

Of course, even if he used this, he wouldn’t be able to easily block the sin in front of him.

But that was fine.

All Alon needed was time, after all.

So—

“Radan.”

Alon threw the Beast of Possibility to Radan, who was closest.

Radan took the statue Alon threw—even while flashing a moment of doubt—

“Pour magic into it.”

and following Alon’s words, he breathed magic into it without hesitation.

And then, the statue shone brilliantly and devoured Radan.

Uuuuuuuung──────────!!!!

Wild magic bursting out.

For an instant, everyone’s gaze gathered there,

“.......”

and even Sloth’s languid eyes turned toward Radan, who was pouring out a bluish light.

A light that gave off sharper and sharper magic.

But Sloth only stood there, numb.

Even though it should’ve felt like this was a situation that could flip something over, Sloth took no action at all.

No—rather, in those bored eyes, it seemed like a strange hint of anticipation was pooling.

And finally, after the magic exploded outward like it was detonating, and the light slowly faded—

there was—

“...What?”

a bewildered Radan.

...As usual, Radan wearing blue armor.

A single emotion flickered quickly through Sloth’s eyes.

It was—

“.......”

plain disappointment.

####

Everyone’s gaze turned to Radan.

Seollang, Elivan, even the mages and soldiers, knights, all of them.

And in their eyes, without exception, there was only doubt and disappointment.

Of course there was.

Radan had received something from Alon and, in an instant, burst out enough magic to make it feel like the entire land would tremble, so a faint emotion had been starting to crawl up in everyone’s heart.

Maybe there was still a way to overcome this despair?

But what came out after exploding that immense magic was only—

Radan, just cleaner than before.

Any difference?

At least to the knights and soldiers, and the mages, there wasn’t one.

To Seollang, it was enough that he could spit out an impression like, “Ah, he got a little taller, and suddenly he got a little stronger—” at most.

...And Alon, who knew what the “Beast of Possibility” was, also felt something similar.

‘...What happened?’

An artifact that summons the “user” from their strongest period, for a set time.

Meaning, Alon thought the Radan that appeared now would look like Radan ten or twenty years later.

Radan was someone who collected relics and used them as weapons.

So the more time passed, the stronger he would naturally become.

But the Radan in front of him clearly didn’t look that seasoned compared to the original Radan.

“...I don’t think there’s any need to wait any longer.”

Sloth, who had been showing strange disappointment within his languor, murmured.

Hwaaak-!

And he spread his magic.

Uk-!

The soldiers outside the black territory retched and passed out in an instant.

Overwhelming violet magic spread out in all directions in the blink of an eye—

Kkeudeuk-! Kkeudeudeuk-!

binding the hunks of flesh that had been motionless like dead things up with threads, and they began to move one by one.

And just as despair and groaning silence began to coil through the air again—

“Ah-”

suddenly, Radan—who had been looking around to grasp the situation—

let out a low exclamation, as if he’d realized something.

“It’s the past, huh? And hyung is still here.”

Radan turned his gaze and found Alon.

As if he understood everything, he nodded.

“Then what I need to do is stop this guy?”

He concluded, pointing at Sloth in front of him.

Like it was nothing.

Calmly.

A strangely felt sense of wrongness.

“Can you stop me?”

Sloth answered, only languidly.

As if it wasn’t even worth it, indifferent.

And hearing that answer, Radan stared at him with a blank expression for a moment—

[Ah-]

Only then, as if he finally understood what that meant, he gave a small, crooked smile.

[Rise, my apostles.]

He recited it like that.

Kwajik-!!!

At that, the hunks of flesh that had been swaying up threateningly burst in an instant.

No—strictly speaking, it felt a little more correct to say they cracked open.

And it was closer to metamorphosis.

A metamorphosis—like the process where pupae tear open the hard bodies they already have and emerge as butterflies.

And then—finally, what came out from inside was—

[■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■-!!!]

a white giant.

Several times larger than a human, and yet with a form that was, in the end, the same kind—so strangely emaciated all over the body it was like starvation.

A pure-white existence.

“!”

The moment he saw it, Alon realized one fact.

‘I was thinking about it wrong.’

No—saying he hadn’t thought of it was more accurate.

Up until now, he’d thought Radan would have gotten strong through relics.

Because the Radan Alon knew was like that.

But that was only the Radan Alon knew—the current Radan he had saved.

The original existence called Radan was someone used as a manifestation-body of sin—someone who, for any reason at all, could not help but become entangled with sin.

Meaning, in countless parallel worlds, Radan at his strongest period was—not Radan who reached the peak by pushing relics to the limit.

Not someone who handled special power well.

Not someone manifested by Jealousy.

The strongest Radan across every existing worldline—that was—

Pure-white existences began to fill the ground.

At the same time, Radan’s figure also began to change.

Rather, he devoured the manifested sin—and the blue armor turned a red like blood.

“Can I stop you?”

Blue hair turned black.

Eyes that had only been blue took on a grotesque red.

“Of course I can—”

And for the first time, staring at Sloth—whose eyes had gone wide as if he couldn’t believe it—

“I already,”

Radan—

“have devoured one before.”

He twisted the corner of his mouth up like it would tear.

“Something like you.”

—It was Radan who became a sin himself.