Ten minutes earlier...

"The Earth is finished," Zola said coldly. "If I don’t take him away by force, he’ll die here along with everyone else."

"But he won’t leave," the female voice replied calmly. "Instead... we can help him defeat the demon."

Zola frowned. "Help him defeat it? How? Just because I’m helping you recover your body doesn’t mean I’ll recklessly violate the Heavenly Laws. I have no intention of dying."

"You don’t need to defeat the demon for him," she said. "Just help him remember... a fragment of his past self."

Zola’s eyes narrowed slightly. "You mean... the Dreamspace Artifact?"

"Yes."

Zola let out a dry laugh. "Do not trifle with me. That artifact is one of a kind, and it can only be used once. And you want me to waste it on him?" He shook his head. "Not happening. Not while I’m here."

"Help him this one last time," she said, her voice steady. "If you do... even when I return, I will allow you to remain the Deity of the seventh upper heaven."

Zola’s gaze sharpened. "That’s a tempting offer," he admitted. "But don’t think I’m that easy to fool. Zelma would never allow it. He doesn’t even acknowledge you as the true ruling deity — let alone me."

"I know," she replied quietly. "That’s why he conspired with the other deities... and tried to kill me."

A brief silence followed. "He has already extended his control into the lower realms," she continued. "Which is exactly why you must help Logan. He is the only one who can stand against them."

Her voice lowered, carrying a weight Zola couldn’t ignore. "Not just the deities... but even the ones beyond them..."

She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to. Zola understood. For the first time, he fell into deep thought.

Back to the present...

Zola stood before Logan, helping him rise to his feet. His voice was low. "Are you certain you want me to do this?"

"Yes."

Logan was about to lunge forward once more...

But before he could move, Zola raised his hand.

A hexagonal stone appeared in his palm. It was translucent, its surface shimmering faintly. Within it, something stirred... like white mist swirling endlessly, alive yet silent.

Without a single gesture, the stone lifted into the air.

Then...

It shot toward Logan. As if guided by Zola’s will alone.

Logan, who had been just about to move, suddenly froze. The stone sank into his body without resistance.

His eyes turned blank... lifeless. And in the next instant... The world around him changed.

Now...

Logan was standing in the midst of an army.

An army of eerie beings. Each one... resembling the demon he had been fighting.

But...

Over ninety percent of them were far stronger than it. And half of them... Their mere presence alone was enough to make Logan suffocate.

Yet something felt... off.

Logan narrowed his eyes. ’They are afraid.

All of them.’

Every single one of those terrifying beings was afraid of something. Logan looked left and right, trying to find out what was going on.

Then

He noticed it.

Far in the distance.

Whoosh!

Whoosh!

A figure moved across the battlefield. Draped in black robes... Long black hair tied neatly behind his back... A sword resting calmly in his right hand.

A colossal demon charged at him... A monstrous being with three pairs of muscular arms. The figure tapped the ground lightly.

And soared into the air... Graceful. Effortless. Like a drifting leaf.

He landed atop the demon’s bald head, right between its horns. The demon roared and threw a punch...

But the figure evaded it with ease. His body tilted midair as he descended — head downward, feet above...

Perfectly controlled. Then...

Just as his blade crossed the demon’s neck...

A single silver flash. The demon froze.

It didn’t move. Instead...

Its body began to petrify. Turning into black stone. Slowly. Completely.

The figure waved his hand casually. A sharp burst of air struck the petrified body.

Crack!

The demon’s Stony body shattered, its fragments scattering... Before vanishing into nothingness.

"He’s... strong," Logan whispered in awe. He stood amidst thousands of demons — yet none of them paid him any attention. It was as if he didn’t exist... as if they couldn’t even see him.

The man in the robe moved with effortless grace. Every strike, every dodge — it all looked casual, almost careless... yet each motion was executed with terrifying precision.

Logan’s gaze sharpened as he noticed something else. "What... kind of aura is that?"

If anyone else heard him, they would go crazy for sure. Because what Logan was sensing — something he recognized instinctively would take even a genius hundreds of years to begin grasping.

That aura... It wasn’t killing intent. It wasn’t any known form of energy. It felt more like a will. Not rage... but something far deeper.

A cold, absolute disgust — a will that sought to erase everything in its path... anything that was not pure.

It wasn’t strength that made the demons shiver... it was this aura.

"Darkness-Purging Aura..." Logan whispered, the words leaving his lips before he even realized it.

His gaze remained fixed on the robed man.

The figure moved without pause — his slaughter unbroken, relentless. There was no hesitation in his actions, no fluctuation in his intent. It was as if he harbored an absolute hatred for demons, one that ran deeper than instinct... deeper than reason itself. No matter how powerful they were, no matter how many charged at him at once...

All of them were erased, reduced to nothingness beneath that overwhelming aura.

Logan became completely absorbed in watching the robed man fight; time ticked by.

And suddenly...

"How long are you going to keep staring like a monkey?" a voice echoed in his ears.

Logan instinctively took two steps back. It wasn’t fear that made him retreat, but in the face of such overwhelming pressure, he was momentarily stunned.

He glanced left and right.

But no one. Not a single being was speaking to him.

Then...

"How long will it take you to wake up?"

The voice came again.