Aslan faced Valerie.
In the frozen moment, the traveling party couldn’t move, let alone perceive anything, and thus Aslan was utterly alone.
But there was no fear. Aslan confronted this murderer with a mind as clear as a cloudless sky, sword pointed directly at her.
Of course, it wasn’t to kill directly.
It was the most direct way of saying, “I am wary of you.”
Valerie didn’t seem too bothered by it, but Aslan kept his sword pointed as he looked at the woman before him.
Valerie, daughter of the goat.
The one who had appeared on the day Lewena died, and even back when the Dark Ram was still unknown as the mastermind, she had been suspicious.
Now it’s known that she serves the Dark Ram, though at the time, their collaborative relationship was also unknown.
Recalling the facts barely uncovered at Boren’s grave, Aslan smirked inwardly.
The Dark Ram and the goat.
Looking back, it seemed like a simple connection.
However, at the time, Aslan hadn’t been certain that the Dark Ram was the mastermind.
After all, since goats and rams were simply connected, Aslan believed that such simplicity couldn’t possibly be the answer.
Thinking about it now, the very simplicity of the answer was itself a kind of test.
The Dark Ram was openly mocking, deceiving, and testing Aslan—like tenderizing meat by pounding it or forging fine weapons from steel through hammering.
It was constantly making Lee Hyun-woo ponder endlessly.
This time was no different.
The Dark Ram acted as if it were overtly losing.
It seemed anxious about Aslan’s victory and the Abyss’s loss.
While influencing the system, it pressured Aslan toward suicide, knowing full well that Aslan wouldn’t make such a choice.
At the end, Aslan would come to believe in victory.
Thus relaxing, not guarding against the obtained prize.
Completely forgetting vigilance.
When Aslan realized this, Valerie opened her mouth again, finding it interesting.
“How did you figure it out?”
Only after hearing the question did Aslan look at her again.
His thoughts had been read—an unsurprising occurrence.
“What if I hadn’t?”
Words contrary to his thoughts. Then Valerie waved her hand dismissively and smiled.
“You couldn’t have, right?”
An outright dismissal with laughter. Following that, the woman spoke.
“My acting was decent enough. So you couldn’t have figured it out just by looking.”
“The Abyssal Sword made me notice….”
“Really? If you hadn’t known, you wouldn’t have noticed such a minor issue, would you?”
To Aslan, trying to use the Abyssal Sword as an excuse, Valerie replied with a relaxed smile.
Moreover, what followed was an overt acknowledgment of Aslan’s suspicions.
“It’s hard for a brain paralyzed by a sense of achievement to think of such things. Unless you’ve doubted from the start.”
So Aslan fell silent.
Her guess was accurate.
Aslan had noticed when the quest changed.
It was too obvious.
Simultaneously, it was behavior uncharacteristic of the Dark Ram.
Hence, Aslan realized it was staged.
A game design that breaks the fourth wall, which has now become cliché—it felt close to that.
It was as if the Dark Ram had deliberately tried to give that impression, and thus Aslan knew everything was staged.
Everything went according to the Dark Ram’s plan.
The Dark Ram intentionally tested Aslan.
As Aslan mulled over this fact while looking at Valerie, Valerie smiled.
That smile reminded Aslan of the past.
The same smile he saw when Valerie killed Lewena and when he met Valerie holding Lewena’s head.
Just like then, Valerie proposed:
“I’ll ask you one question, you answer, then you ask one, and I’ll answer. We repeat. How’s that?”
Back then, Aslan had been uncooperative and only shouted to send her away.
Valerie had informed Aslan that the height he’d fallen from was eight stories and then vanished abruptly.
He couldn’t afford to make the same mistake again.
Aslan needed information.
“Fine, you go first.”
Understanding Aslan’s thoughts, Valerie agreed, and Aslan asked without lowering his sword.
“Why did you stage all this?”
“What do you mean by ‘this kind of staging’?”
“You know. Even if you wanted, you could’ve crushed me with force, so why focus on deception?”
A pure question born of Aslan’s curiosity. Valerie remained silent for a moment before replying with a puzzled expression.
“Isn’t that common?”
A counter-question. Since Aslan didn’t respond, the woman continued.
“Like arranging food to look more appealing, adding coloring for aesthetic reasons, or going through elaborate cooking processes for texture despite indirect effects on taste…”
Aslan flinched slightly at her words while gripping his sword, prompting the woman to shrug.
“Deception is merely a means. You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”
Saying something she knew wasn’t true. Aslan frowned, and Valerie grinned upon seeing his face.
“That’s a good look. It makes me want to torment you further. Anyway, your expression is nice, so ask another question.”
“…What are you?”
Despite the unpleasantness, Aslan accepted her suggestion. When Valerie looked surprised at his question, Aslan elaborated.
“At first, I thought you were just a simple subordinate or messenger of the Dark Ram. But that wasn’t true. You… you’re far too autonomous to be just a subordinate.”
“So?”
“The Dark Ram isn’t sloppy enough to keep an annoying subordinate like you around just because they don’t want to get their hands dirty.”
Therefore, Aslan asked again: What are you?
With a sheepish smile, Valerie responded to Aslan’s question.
“I didn’t intend to tell you, but how did you figure it out? And judging by your questions, you haven’t guessed yet, right? Our identity isn’t really important, is it? What matters is what we can do, isn’t it?”
Partially correct but partially wrong. However, Aslan didn’t correct her.
With an unsatisfied expression, Aslan glared at her, and Valerie sighed deeply.
“One more?”
Though blatant, considering it was all a lie, it wasn’t surprising.
Without any emotion, Aslan opened his mouth.
“Why are you bound by rules?”
“Be more specific.”
“With the power you possess, you could easily bring humans here and eat them without being bound by rules. Why abide by them? Why wait until the end?”
As Aslan spoke, regret tinged Valerie’s expression, eventually turning into mockery.
Are you really asking this? Apparently, you’re dumber than I thought.
Easily brushing off the personal attack, Valerie tilted her head and answered.
“Wouldn’t it be wasteful to slaughter livestock that hasn’t been fattened up just because you can eat them? It’s better to fatten them first. Why settle for mediocrity?”
An excessively demeaning term to refer to humans. As Aslan’s eyebrows twitched, the woman seemed delighted and spoke excitedly.
“Rules are fences and feed. It’s easier to raise livestock within fenced areas rather than lead them around grazing.”
The same metaphor. While perhaps in their perception humans truly were livestock, Aslan couldn’t hide his discomfort.
Thus, the woman continued.
“We use our strength efficiently, reinforce the world’s principles, and gain benefits… Oops, maybe I shouldn’t have said that much?”
Certainly intentional, but Aslan paid no heed and organized the information.
From what she said, it sounded like creating currents and tides to swim comfortably.
Bringing humans here to control and raise them—creating the world for that purpose?
It was extraordinary. A hollow laugh escaped amidst his astonishment as Valerie prepared to conclude.
“One last question.”
Aslan said this and, before Valerie could respond, asked immediately.
“What’s your purpose?”
No answer came. Aslan stared into Valerie’s red eyes. Glaring at her, Aslan muttered.
“No sentient being accumulates power without reason. There’s always a purpose. An enemy. So I ask.”
Aslan asked.
“What do you seek?”
Emotion drained from Valerie’s voice.
“What is it you aim to accomplish?”
Her eyes remained emotionless.
“For what did you bring over 4,000 people here to consume?”
When the final question was posed, a clichéd surprise crept in.
Lewena would’ve scoffed and chimed in, but Valerie stared at Aslan without blinking.
“Interesting question.”
Just a brief response.
“Think the opposite. Perhaps we aren’t gathering strength but doing something else entirely.”
Then Valerie smiled faintly. Aslan, watching her smile, couldn’t grasp the meaning behind her words.
Thus, what followed was a polite dismissal. From this frozen time, she expelled him, appearing to flee physically.
“It’s fortunate you were cooperative this time. Losing pointlessly would’ve been boring for everyone involved.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know. I’m leaving now… but it’ll get harder from here. After all, you chose hardcore mode with realism difficulty. You’ll have to handle it.”
With that, she walked into the darkness. Pushing it aside like opening a door in a wall, she revealed a swirling void filled with cosmic hues.
Through that portal, she disappeared.
As she vanished suddenly, time gradually returned to the space.
“―Slan!”
A calling voice. Turning his head, Aslan saw his companions rushing toward him.
Each carrying their own emotions, they approached. Lowering his sword, Aslan dismissed the purity.
What became visible after the purity faded was white steel tainted by the Abyss.
Beyond it lay the Abyss, riddled with holes radiating cosmic colors.
The surreal landscape of the churning Abyss and the holes overflowing with cosmic hues lacked reality.
Not even dreams could be this hallucinatory. Watching it blankly, Aslan thought.
Lewena isn’t here in this scenery.
Except for when Valerie appeared disguised as Lewena, Lewena didn’t exist here.
Perhaps already…
A rising foreboding. Aslan shook his head as if to shake it off.
Valerie appearing as Lewena couldn’t have been solely for deception.
Since Aslan still had hope, still had possibilities, it was undoubtedly why she chose such deception.
Thus, Aslan looked up at his approaching companions. Coming closer, they guarded the surroundings while closing the distance.
Aslan’s fully trustworthy comrades.
Before they could say anything, Aslan spoke.
“I have a personal favor to ask.”
This halted the approaching group mid-step.
Some glanced at each other, wondering if they’d heard correctly, then refocused on Aslan.
“A favor only you can help me with.”
“What kind of favor?”
Ereta questioned. Aslan glanced briefly at the woman and said,
“Can you hold out here until I return?”
“Return? Where are you going?”
Without context, the exact nature of the request was unclear. Initially, no one understood what Aslan intended to do.
Thus, Tiamat’s inquiry was justified, and the group silently closed their mouths.
All eyes fixed on Aslan. Receiving their gaze, Aslan continued,
“There’s someone I need to find.”
Gripping his cloak tightly.
His companions wore disapproving expressions.
Some had already guessed, and others knew who he was talking about.
Thus, despite their disapproval, they couldn’t stop him.
“…Do as you please. You’d go anyway, wouldn’t you?”
Tiamat tapped the Abyss-tainted floor with her tail, revealing her disapproval, and Phey crossed his arms and tapped his foot but didn’t block him either.
Sensing the determination in Aslan’s voice, they quietly let him go.
Watching his companions, Aslan smiled faintly and thought.
The owner of this cloak called himself a failure.
But Aslan didn’t think so.
The tragedy that marked his end was contrived, and Aslan believed he had saved his son.
Thus, Aslan believed he could save Lewena too.
“I’ll be back.”
Turning his body, the gray-blue cloak fluttered behind Aslan.
The flutter turned into wind.
Into a very cold wind blowing from the underworld, Hel.
The wind wrapping around Aslan originated from Niflheim—a very cold wind.
With the wind surrounding him, Aslan ran.
Leaping, he flew.
In the Abyss where there was neither up nor down, he flew.
There was a center to the Abyss where he was heading.
The only different place in the Abyss without location.
The darkest place, where the thickest Abyss dwelled.
The place furthest from light.
Aslan believed the possibility of rescuing Lewena lay there, and thus he dove into the darkest and thickest shadow.
