Chapter 722 – Then What? (1)
The Demon King of the Third Throne.
True to his rank, Vassago’s authority was exceptional.
In many ways, he had tormented the Lee Hoyeols of previous cycles.
Because of Vassago, there were cycles where the Holy War Alliance was even disbanded.
‘Simply put, he strikes first.’
If I had stayed still—
as always—
the prophecy would have slowly tightened around my neck.
‘Compared to that, being the Nostradamus of the Age of Cataclysm would’ve been generous.’
From the Great Sage Rise, to the great masters and religious figures of the pre-Imperial era, even sages from other worlds—
prophecies about me would have been unearthed endlessly.
Hallucinated voices reach my ears.
—“There’s no way the Supreme Commander would do something like that…!”
—“What did I say? Lee Hoyeol, I told you it made no sense.”
—“Then does that mean everything ends if Lee Hoyeol is gone…?”
The negative emotions caused by that?
Impossible to measure.
So much so that even the Holy War Alliance—once bound together by pride—collapsed due to internal strife.
But not in this cycle.
—Lee Hoyeols appearing everywhere…! What is he trying to convey?
To prevent negative emotions from spreading,
I acknowledged it early on.
No—beyond merely acknowledging it, I let the prophecy partially come true as a preview.
‘There was also the intention of reclaiming the burden Grandfell had been carrying.’
And I did not overlook Vassago’s existence.
So then, where would the real Lee Hoyeol head?
That’s right. At this very moment—
Ttogak.
I infiltrated the inside of the Demon King’s Castle via teleportation.
A siege was currently underway.
‘Normally, entry would be impossible.’
What was broken was the system window.
The Arcana Continent’s combat system itself wasn’t down.
I simply made use of the still-valid rules of the Demon Realm.
‘More precisely, the rules of the Ten Thrones.’
The original owner of the Demon King’s Castle that appeared in China should have been Agares.
‘Vassago doesn’t have that level of authority left.’
Vassago had manifested his avatars as completely separate entities from himself.
Considering the authority consumed in doing so, he lacked the resources to build such a magnificent castle.
‘Therefore, the castle’s ownership must be in a floating state.’
Yes—Vassago was merely the castle’s temporary lord.
Temporary, but the reason he could claim the position was simple:
Vassago was the only remaining member of the Ten Thrones.
But what about after I appeared?
The moment I hunted Agares, there was no reason for my rank to fall below Vassago’s.
Even if I couldn’t immediately become the castle’s owner,
there was no reason for me to be blocked at the entrance.
As if to prove that—
“……!!!”
The demons of the Demon King’s Castle did not charge at me even after seeing me.
If they didn’t attack, I had no reason to hunt first.
I entered the castle openly, but I wasn’t in perfect condition either.
‘I should conserve myself too.’
No matter what actions the manifested legends—including the Dark Dragon—took,
they did not negatively affect me.
To put it in simpler terms—
‘It’s closer to spirit magic than summoning magic.’
Summoning magic relies entirely on the caster’s mana from start to finish.
Spirit magic, on the other hand, merely calls forth the spirit and supports its actions with mana.
Mana is not consumed just to summon and maintain the spirit.
The legends I had manifested so far were clearly closer to spirit magic.
‘The problem is that what I manifested is still, ultimately, Lee Hoyeol.’
Another me that existed in a previous cycle.
‘For convenience, I call them clones.’
But they were still me—Lee Hoyeol.
Unlike when manifesting other legends,
I was being affected far more directly.
If someone asked whether it was really okay to come looking for Vassago in such a weakened state—
‘Is it because I’ve only been showing an honest, straightforward side lately?’
I’d want to ask if they still doubted me.
‘Do you have any idea how many tricks I’ve researched? I still have plenty left.’
Besides, it had been a while since I’d faced a demon.
No message appeared.
But a sensation clearer than any message awakened me.
Writhe.
Demon Hunter.
The instinct of a natural enemy guided me to where the prey was.
I opened my mouth.
“Vassago.”
A throne positioned high, as if to express the dignity of the Ten Thrones.
Vassago sat there, head lowered, his face buried in both hands.
‘He’s sitting—so he still has some leeway.’
Or perhaps he had already given up.
Recalling Vassago’s end from previous cycles…
Vassago was a peculiar member of the Ten Thrones—one who showed little attachment to life.
‘Even his death was strangely clean for a demon.’
He really was different.
‘What about the other Ten Thrones?’
Even Paimon—who upheld formality as the King of the Western Demon Realm and had shown me goodwill—
could not conceal his malice at the very end.
Maybe not toward Grandfell, but he certainly hadn’t looked kindly on me.
In contrast, Vassago—
even at the moment he was hunted by me in a previous cycle—
did not display even a trace of malice.
It felt more like inevitable acceptance.
‘Any other demon would’ve blamed someone else.’
Perhaps Vassago’s avatars weren’t special for no reason.
‘It’s not like I failed to recognize Rise for nothing.’
The day Claudi’s return was proclaimed to the Arcana Continent,
the Great Sage Rise—one of the continent’s major figures—visited the Claudi Domain.
—“The Great Sage, Rise, seeks an audience with the lord of Claudi.”
That day, the [Natural Enemy Relationship] did not activate before Rise.
The implication was simple.
Rise was not a demon.
Which also meant Vassago had granted his avatars freedom—and respected them completely.
One of Vassago’s final words suddenly came to mind.
—“A death I must accept as a father.”
Even now, it was the same.
Though I stood right before him, Vassago did not reclaim the authority dwelling within his avatars.
I looked at the avatars, who stared at me, unable to close their mouths.
“To think the day the prophecy is fulfilled would come.”
“To die after being caught by a demon, I have no regrets.”
“We shall accept this situation, O Light…”
From the looks of it, Vassago had summoned the avatars to the castle without any explanation.
They didn’t even seem to realize they were his avatars.
‘Should I end it quietly?’
He was different from other demons.
Just as I thought that, Vassago spoke, face still buried.
“What was it all for?”
What is he suddenly talking about?
“You who make me endlessly insignificant.”
Insignificant?
Me?
Vassago lifted his head.
His eyes held emotions beyond description—regret, doubt, shame…
but not fear.
Beyond even that—
“You who also make me sorrowful.”
Vassago looked at me with pity.
‘Tch. This really ruins a Demon Hunter’s dignity.’
To think the day would come when I’d be pitied by a demon.
Will the sun rise in the west next?
Maybe this truly means the tiresome repetition is finally ending, Grandfell.
“A refreshing remark, Vassago.”
“…I had no intention of insulting you.”
Slowly, Vassago rose from the throne.
Just as I thought—he had summoned his avatars all the way to the Demon King’s Castle, yet failed to reclaim his authority.
‘He looks so pitiful you’d believe he was a weakened imp.’
Based on everything I’d experienced across cycles,
Vassago wasn’t likely to strike from behind.
Still, my situation wasn’t exactly comfortable either.
‘Never let your guard down, Hoyeol.’
I prepared to activate [Exorcist] at any moment,
keeping a close watch on the avatars.
Vassago approached me with visible effort.
“If there is anything you are curious about, ask freely. But… you likely have nothing you wish to ask me. Even if I do not remember, you know me well.”
Based on the avatars’ prophecies—
‘He’s guessed that I reversed time.’
Correct, Vassago.
But there was no time or place for praise.
When I remained silent, Vassago let out a dry chuckle.
“How ridiculous I must have looked in your eyes. It was you—not me—who truly lived eternity. Truly… you are upright to an embarrassing degree.”
Upright?
What is that supposed to mean all of a sudden?
‘That’s not exactly a compliment I’d welcome.’
Maybe because when I think of someone upright, the only one who comes to mind is you, Grandfell.
After spending most of my mana controlling clones, I really was standing too straight.
“How does one move forward?”
At Vassago’s question, I realized—
‘Ah. That’s what he meant.’
Vassago was asking:
“Even I—who remember only a single life—fell into boredom and repeated the same existence over and over. Even one life was painfully despairing and lonely.”
Loneliness.
‘Perhaps all of the Ten Thrones felt the same.’
Demons are bound to oppose demons.
The Ten Thrones could not ease each other’s loneliness.
Each must have sought their own escape.
In Paimon’s case—
—“I need you.”
He sought Grandfell as a companion.
—“I have no regrets, brother.”
Bael, though different, seemed to steel his resolve by gazing only at me through reversed time.
As for Vassago, as he said—treating his avatars like children must have been his only solace.
In that sense, this was what Vassago was asking.
“How did you endure an eternity of loneliness…?”
It was a question I couldn’t answer.
‘I don’t know. Me neither.’
Even after reclaiming the arrangement and recalling past cycles,
what I remembered was only fragments.
I couldn’t know what the Lee Hoyeols of previous cycles had thought or felt.
‘Thinking about it that way just makes me more uneasy.’
The first-cycle Lee Hoyeol—the only one with black hair.
‘Is he doing well? Or at least behaving himself?’
No—there was someone else I worried about even more.
The more Vassago expressed his emotions before me,
the more a single thought grew in my mind.
Unlike me—
Grandfell, who remembers everything.
How did you endure an eternity of loneliness?
.
.
.
At the highest floor of the Social Hall of Space-Time, Grandfell entered.
A machine placed to one side began to operate.
Shrrrk.
A quest device that assigns top-tier space-time missions.
Grandfell reached out toward it.
Someone might ask if he intended to undertake such a mission.
‘A reasonable assumption.’
Even by Grandfell’s standards, it was an acceptable conclusion.
Top-tier space-time quests were among the few ways to change the present without reversing time.
Just like those who had stepped here in the past,
one could engrave their name into history through such a quest—
or be worshiped as a god and live eternally in the Pantheon.
Clack.
But Grandfell gained nothing from the top-tier space-time quest.
Was it because of his incorruptible purity—desiring nothing?
No. The reason Grandfell approached the past was only one.
‘I will never forget.’
Only to engrave it.
‘Even if this is not the last time.’
I shall never forget you.
.
.
.
..
pindang/n: sorry for the late update, I got sick and just recovered