Lee Hyun-woo.
He wasn’t particularly well-versed in subcultures.
Though he hadn’t completely avoided them, the only things he could claim to have read were famous fantasy masterpieces that anyone might have come across.
It was the same with anime.
If it wasn’t extremely popular, he hardly remembered watching it.
The medium he interacted with most frequently was games—AOS games played with friends, the usual fantasy games, very famous FPS games, Eternal Dominion, and dark fantasy games alike.
Even so, among subcultures, he was relatively knowledgeable about games, which is why Lee Hyun-woo couldn’t immediately grasp the explanation the boy had just provided.
“Possessor…?”
It wasn’t an unfamiliar word, but its intended meaning was unclear.
As Lee Hyun-woo stood up with a bewildered expression, the boy nodded gently, his face reflecting a subtle sense of satisfaction or camaraderie.
Had the boy sensed Lee Hyun-woo’s confusion or skepticism?
Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like that was the case. The boy continued speaking on a topic that Lee Hyun-woo clearly didn’t understand.
“Isn’t it surprising? I’ve found traces of other Possessors too, after all. There’s a status screen, and there’s regression…”
The conversation continued. As Lee Hyun-woo glanced around with a confused look at the girl and the monk, the monk placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
Then, with a quiet nod, he gestured toward Lee Hyun-woo. Realizing this, the boy finally turned to look at him.
Still seeing the puzzled expression on Lee Hyun-woo’s face.
“So… you mean like when someone gets possessed by a ghost?”
At this, the boy frowned seriously.
There was a sense of betrayal in his expression. As Lee Hyun-woo became even more confused reading this reaction, the boy stammered.
“You don’t… read fantasy novels or light novels?”
Lee Hyun-woo shook his head, causing the boy to bite his lips tightly and adopt a mournful expression.
“I play games often, but I don’t really read novels.”
Without responding further to these words, the boy stepped back, his face clouded with deep betrayal—an emotion Lee Hyun-woo failed to notice.
It was the kind of betrayal one feels upon realizing that someone thought to be an insider among “chewy geeks” wasn’t actually one.
Thus, the monk took over the explanation.
A typical martial monk with thick limbs like a log.
Despite his somewhat exotic appearance, he began kindly.
“Lee Hyun-woo layman, it seems you’ve seen my memories… Is that correct?”
This immediately made Lee Hyun-woo ponder deeply. When he remained silent, the monk clasped his hands together and spoke.
“There’s no need to be wary. I have neither the intention nor the power to harm you, Lee Hyun-woo layman. Just answer comfortably.”
It was a strange statement. Lee Hyun-woo currently looked nothing like Aslan; he was merely an ordinary high school senior who had spent 12 years acquiring deadly skills—not some superhuman assassin.
Given this situation, the monk’s assurance, coming from a man whose arms were as thick as Lee Hyun-woo’s head, lacked conviction.
Perhaps sensing this, the monk smiled faintly after a moment.
“What thoughts come to your mind?”
“Thoughts…?”
“About us.”
“Us.”
At this, Lee Hyun-woo turned his head to look at those the boy had described as “defeated Possessors.”
Their appearances and attire varied widely.
The boy who had withdrawn and muttered under his breath looked like a typical mage, though his outfit seemed impractical for real combat. His robes were cumbersome, and there wasn’t even a single practical tool attached.
An outfit that would make survival difficult in Geladridion, indeed.
Next was the girl.
Her striking face reminded Lee Hyun-woo vaguely of Angie—handsome rather than conventionally pretty, with a fierce demeanor as she stared at her nails.
She loosely held what was known as an assault rifle. Her body was clad in a snug tactical suit with a bulletproof vest and ammo pouches.
Despite her small stature, everything fit her perfectly—it wasn’t something hastily assembled but rather custom-made for her.
And then the monk.
Without needing much explanation, one could observe unique features: weapons and accessories crafted from the body parts of hellish monsters or demonic deities, alongside items resembling traditional Buddhist ornaments.
Looking at them, Lee Hyun-woo realized something simple.
“All your worlds are different.”
Upon catching this thought in his eyes, the monk nodded approvingly, prompting Lee Hyun-woo to speak.
“You aren’t from Geladridion, are you?”
At this, the three either nodded or crossed their arms and gave brief affirmations.
“I come from Hell. A slightly twisted version of it—a place overflowing with legendary demons and imps.”
The monk spoke first.
“I’m from a novel I loved. It had adventures, fantasy… Yeah, Lee Hyun-woo probably wouldn’t know it.”
Unlike the monk, the boy answered with a touch of awkwardness. Seeing his slouched shoulders after Lee Hyun-woo gave a sheepish smile revealed his timid nature.
In contrast, the girl was completely opposite.
“I’m from a game. An FPS game, whether you know it or not.”
The girl didn’t seem to care whether Lee Hyun-woo knew or not. In fact, she appeared disinterested in him altogether, likely assuming he wouldn’t pay much attention anyway.
And she was right.
With a serious expression, Lee Hyun-woo turned back to the monk, who sobered his smiling face and said,
“There’s also a Viking who fell into Valhalla.”
“A Crusader knight who ended up in Hell.”
“And someone who entered a superhero comic.”
One by one, pieces of information overlaid onto Lee Hyun-woo’s thoughtful expression.
After a moment of contemplation, he looked up, prompting the monk to ask,
“Do you see the commonality?”
Commonality. Lee Hyun-woo hesitated, sorting through the information given:
Valhalla.
Hell.
Hell realms.
Worlds of novels, comics, and games.
And Geladridion, where Aslan had survived for 12 years.
“Fictional worlds…”
All of them were non-existent, imaginary realms.
Legends and myths were forms of imagination.
So were the worlds of games, comics, and novels.
But the commonality went deeper. Looking up at the monk, Lee Hyun-woo received a nod before the monk continued,
“One more thing. All those worlds contained ‘Him.’”
‘Him,’ the entity called the Dark Ram Herd in Geladridion.
Whether unable to utter its name or finding it meaningless, the monk adopted a somber expression as he spoke.
That expression mirrored everyone present.
The girl looked irritated.
The boy appeared anxious.
From the monk, there was a palpable sense of defeat.
Indeed, they seemed to truly be “defeated Possessors.”
Observing these defeated individuals, Lee Hyun-woo suddenly asked,
“Who exactly is ‘He’? What does He want? What is He trying to do?”
Regretfully, the monk responded, “We don’t know His true identity either. To be precise, we’ve been made to forget.”
Made to forget. It was an enigmatic answer.
“He cleverly conceals Himself, spreading vague or misleading information about His identity. Even if we had known before, we likely forgot after our defeats.”
Thus, the following statement was equally cryptic.
It was as if the world before and after defeat was fundamentally different.
As Aslan observed curiously, the monk added,
“He abducts people from the original world we lived in and releases them into the fictional worlds they love, admire, or are familiar with.”
For Lee Hyun-woo, this referred to Geladridion. Sensing his attentive listening, the monk continued,
“In those worlds, they undergo trials and tribulations, growing stronger. Eventually, if they fail to overcome the trials or succeed but are still consumed afterward…”
Consumed.
It was a highly ambiguous term.
Especially since those consumed could still testify to His existence.
The boy, who had remained silent until now, suddenly spoke up,
“That’s why I call Him the ‘Possessor Devourer.’”
“I think the repetition of ‘self’ sounds awkward, but this guy insists on calling Him that every time.”
Following the girl’s comment, the boy slouched, looking despondent.
Yet neither denied the accuracy of the term.
To Lee Hyun-woo, it seemed quite fitting.
If those entering these fictional worlds were called Possessors, then the Dark Ram Herd could indeed be called the Possessor Devourer.
Armed with this newfound knowledge, Lee Hyun-woo voiced a long-standing question,
“Why does He do this?”
Motivation.
The “defeated Possessors” couldn’t answer.
They merely scratched their heads awkwardly, shrugged, or offered a slight smile.
“…Do you not know His purpose?”
“Unfortunately, yes. But…”
Seeing Aslan’s bafflement, the monk explained,
“We do know how many times and how long He has done this. For ages, He has abducted humans to fatten them up and consume them.”
Regardless of whether they succeeded or failed in their trials.
“While observing their struggles within those fictional worlds.”
The monk continued,
“After consuming them, the leftovers, the empty shells, are sent here—to what you call the Formless Tomb.”
Formless Tomb. A familiar term.
Seemingly understanding Lee Hyun-woo’s recognition, the monk smiled and said,
“Excluding you, Layman Lee Hyun-woo, 4,377 others have failed in fictional worlds, triumphed but later failed, or succumbed after victory. Terribly so.”
4,377. While it might sound like a small number, imagining each as fattened prey changes the perspective entirely.
4,377 worlds created, used, and discarded by His hand.
“He… You called them Possessors, right? He fed on beings like us to grow stronger. Using that strength, He crafted increasingly sophisticated worlds and wielded greater power.”
“Can eating humans grant such power?”
Lee Hyun-woo liked humans.
But liking humans didn’t equate to believing in their superiority.
Humans weren’t superior beings.
Even if He ate countless humans, how could that alone create and destroy worlds?
It was hard to believe, something Lee Hyun-woo wouldn’t have accepted without experiencing 12 years as Aslan.
The monk chuckled sheepishly.
“To clarify, this isn’t my conclusion. It was deduced by a Crusader knight who disappeared around twenty cases ago.”
Thus, don’t nitpick too much. With a gentle smile, the story unfolded:
“He feeds exclusively on the most noble human souls. Souls that have endured trials and grown fat in fictional worlds. That’s His nourishment for growth.”
The principle was still unclear, but Lee Hyun-woo understood one thing:
The essence of what Sorrow and Death had told him—that this world itself was a trap.
From Vikings who believed in Valhalla to warriors seemingly pulled from pre-medieval times, it seemed the Dark Ram Herd had been bringing and devouring people since ancient history.
Realizing this, Lee Hyun-woo momentarily felt overwhelmed by the enormity of the enemy.
Then a sudden doubt crossed his mind.
“What about me?”
Lee Hyun-woo remembered his death.
He remembered fighting until the very end, wielding his sword with a stopped heart, ultimately defeating the tyrant.
By that logic, hadn’t he already failed?
And wasn’t he supposed to be devoured by the Dark Ram Herd?
Yet here he was, with Aslan joining hands with these individuals, taking refuge inside the Formless Tomb.
What was the reason?
What was their purpose?
What benefit did they gain by bringing Aslan, disguised as Lee Hyun-woo, here?
“…Then, why did you bring me here?”
Thus, Lee Hyun-woo asked.
There was nothing else he could do in the current situation.
If they harbored ill intentions, they would have acted already.
For this reason, Lee Hyun-woo didn’t perceive the situation as dangerous.
His absurd question and subtle awareness of the unfolding circumstances caused the monk to smile contentedly.
Then, preparing to explain why they had brought him, the monk opened his mouth—
—BOOM.
“Hmm?”
A sound akin to rippling waves accompanied by
Rumble…!
The sky began to collapse.
Cracks spreading across the artificial heavens, trembling earth throwing up dust as the ground split apart.
As the cracks widened, a presence was felt from above.
Eyes like blazing suns embedded in the rift of the artificial sky.
The overwhelming presence of the Dark Ram Herd was manifesting.
