The sharp smell of blood and burnt flesh hung heavy in the air, mixing with the smoke rising from the wreckage of twisted metal frames referred to as fighter jets by otherworlders, all marked with red-blue flags.
Yeah, it was pretty grim.
All around, lifeless bodies of soldiers in strange uniforms lay sprawled out, their eyes wide open in horror.
The remnants of once-majestic dragons—the real kings of the skies—were scattered like broken toys across the battlefield.
Those mighty creatures, once shining with impenetrable scales, had been shattered and torn apart, their grand wings now useless against the constant rain of metal projectiles coming from another world.
And then there were these weird creatures mixed in with the chaos—humans with animal traits.
Fox-kin, wolves, and even elves were scattered around, serving as a grizzly reminder of just how massive the fight had been.
But oddly enough, the clash wasn't really between these local inhabitants and the metal projectiles from the gates, which led to some modern world.
No, it was more like a standoff between one individual and everyone else.
This inhuman immortal, who had pretty much sold his soul to devils, sat like royalty in a broken black palace that overlooked a cliff.
Dark clouds hung overhead, and the land was stuck in a constant chill, all thanks to the 'nukes' the otherworlders had unleashed—covering what used to be a vibrant world in a dense layer of darkness.
Despite the deadly radiation that would have wiped out any regular person, a group of figures quietly moved through the palace corridors, navigating with a stealthy confidence.
It seemed like they had a plan, even in a place filled with chaos.
Their breathing was even—well, except for one who seemed to be struggling.
"Can we really take down the emperor?" a hushed voice broke the silence, dripping with doubt.
"He killed countless otherworlders and dragons all by himself," another voice remarked, barely above a whisper, as though speaking any louder would summon death itself.
Then a third voice, steady and reassuring, chimed in, "We will. He's injured, and we've got the Ghost Saintess on our side, right?"
A hush fell over the group, and no one dared to disagree.
Leading the way was a woman with long, flowing hair. She remained quiet, gripping the dagger hidden within her robes tightly, her amethyst eyes focused straight ahead, though unease churned within her.
She hadn't wanted their words to affect her, but they did. They placed their faith in her, believing she would do what had to be done. But as the grand doors of the royal chamber came into view, an ache tightened her chest.
Doubt.
Her feet didn't falter, yet her heart hesitated.
Each step felt heavier, like she was heading toward an abyss—maybe a light that had now morphed into darkness, something that had once pulled her from despair was now dangling by a fragile thread over her.
Still, she pushed herself forward.
This was just another mission—a name that needed to be erased—even if that name held a special place in her heart.
The chamber doors loomed ahead, once grand and adorned with golden engravings—but now cracked and battered by the carnage that had ripped through the palace. With a soft groan, she pushed them open and stepped inside.
The room was vast, draped in luxurious silks and lit by flickering candlelight. At the center, a large bed lay untouched, white sheets shimmering softly, and her pulse quickened as she approached, dagger glinting ominously in her grip.
Standing beside the bed, she looked down at the still figure beneath the covers.
This was it.
Her throat felt dry as unfamiliar emotions twisted inside her. She'd convinced herself she was ready—that this was necessary. Yet, as she raised the dagger, her fingers quivered.
"I can't undo my sins… but maybe, I can find some forgiveness."
The words barely slipped from her lips before she struck—only for the blade to sink into something soft.
A pillow.
Her breath caught.
'What?!'
Then came the voice, quiet and weary, yet sending chills racing down her spine.
"Haah… So I was really a villain all along?"
She turned to see him—at the far end of the room, seated upon a shadowy throne was a man.
His bathing robe hung loosely open revealing firm abs with blood marks on it, and his skin seemed to have scars and dirt as if he had scarcely moved for days. His eyes were shut, yet somehow, he seemed to be staring right at her.
But it was something else that caught her attention.
A wound—black and twisting, like a spider's web—spread across his chest, pulsing with unsettling energy.
Yet, impossibly, he was still alive.
And he was watching her—at least she felt that way.
'Is this some kind of mind-hallucinatory magic?' It felt as though Dryn was trapped in a hallucination, his mind torn between two conflicting realities: one was his present self being the emperor and the other was of his past life where he was a game developer.
Dryn sat there, half-embedded in a demonic seed spreading across his chest, 40% of his body corrupted by it to protect him from the radiation in the air.
And somehow, with those weapons called nukes flashing around this world, it awakened a memory that forced him to believe this crazy notion that his entire life had just been a game, and he had been reincarnated from another world.
He remained seated with a glowing white cherry blossom sword lying weakly in his left hand.
"Attack him!" Suddenly, while he was lost in thought, the assassins lunged forward to attack him, leaving their leader caught in a trance as her gaze remained locked on the sword in his hand.
"You monster!" screamed one of the assassins, swinging his sword straight at Dryn's seated figure, but he didn't move.
The four assassins in mid-swing burst into mist instead.
Splash!
Their blood sprayed like droplets, splattering across the floor and, due to the recoil, hitting him as well; the robe flailed with splashes of blood pooling on his exposed chest.
Several sword cuts were visible underneath and also was that dark, parasite-like demonic seed, all exposed.
"Maybe not a mind hallucination after all," he murmured, as with one hand he cleared the blood trickling from his eyebrow—metallic smell, blood texture, deep crimson color, and strange warmth reminding him that this was all real.
"Ruvina… So you also betrayed me like the others, huh?" A weary sigh escaped him as he glanced at the Ghost Saintess, who now stood stiff with her eyes glued on the blood-stained sword in his hand.
Her comrades lay in form of blood, nothing left but torn clothing that hinted at a catastrophic end.
But it seemed the horror of their comrades' demise meant little to her; she was more concerned about something else, her lips trembling while her eyes were set on the cherry blossom sword belonging to her sister. "Y-you killed Natalia?!"
Tears welled up, red staining her eyes as she recognized the weapon he held—belonging to her sister who loved this man.
"Oh? The only one who remained sane." Dryn finally opened his eyes, narrowing his gaze, where the white of his right eye was completely overshadowed by the left, now entirely black with a tiny red dot as he recalled how those whom he called family suddenly turned against him, attacking him the moment they saw the demonic seed on him except the one whose sword he held.
She was better than the others yet not strong enough to live longer.
"You've truly become a devil, Dryn!" she shouted, taking a step back—not out of fear, but to tighten her grip on the dagger. Without warning, she vanished, reappearing in front of him, dagger aimed with intent, plunging it directly into his chest.
Schlt!
"Cough… Haa, I had told you all so many times..." Dryn coughed blood; though he could have dodged, he instead remained still, allowing the blade to penetrate his chest, with only a few inches separating him from the wrath of the woman who once stood by his side. "Ruvina... I am under complete control of my mind; this seed cannot control me."
He gazed at her, no smile gracing his lips, having lost most of his humanity by now according to her.
He tried again to explain to someone who had once been by his side, now turned foes, that he wasn't controlled by the demonic seed but rather the other way around—he was able to use demonic powers without being corrupted.
But it was a hollow explanation, similar to the one he gave every single time they had tried to end his life.
"YOU'RE BRAINWASHED! YOU KILLED SO MANY PEOPLE!" she screamed, pressing the blade further into him, the dagger cutting deeper, piercing through his heart, once beating just moments ago and now slowing.
Finally, a flicker of a smile crossed his lips as he coughed up blood, shaking his head as he finally let the extreme pain crush his heart's last flicker of emotion.
"Why? Why did you betray me? I loved you," he murmured, his eyelids growing heavy, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness as his mind took over the now dead heart, clearly trying to extract information for the root cause of it all.
"But I don't! No one could believe a monster; just die!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. It seemed more like grief than rage.
Watching him die at her own hand hurt more than she could bear.
"I see. So you all didn't have a reason to begin this, huh?" Dryn suddenly appeared not in pain as he placed his hand on hers before pulling the dagger from his chest while using force far greater than hers.
His right eye darkened entirely now and turned into the same color as the left one.
He sacrificed even his heart, replacing it with a demonic one, crossing the threshold into what many would call a devil.
Someone who has a devil's heart instead of a human one.
'!?!'
"Y-you—!?—Sckhlt!" Ruvina's eyes widened as she saw him unscathed, even with the dagger lodged in his heart.
Before she could grasp what was happening, his sword plunged through her heart, piercing her solar plexus. Blood poured from her mask as she stumbled backward, lifted off the floor and suspended in the air as he levitated her.
He stood almost inhumanly, as if held by darkness, one hand gripping the sword, lifting her up by flexing his arms, while her dagger slipped from her now-weak grip.
She fell prey to her emotions, not realizing that he had her sister's sword—the only weapon that could harm her irrespective of her ghost ability which let every attack, weapon pass directly through her body.
"I should have listened to the princess… cough," she gasped, hanging in mid-air, supported by the very sword of her sister, whom this man had just murdered and through his talks had made her fall into a trap to come near him.
"Princess? She was the one who killed Natalia, you idiot." Dryn had no desire again to validate the betrayal from this woman or those few generals under him who made some nonsensical excuses.
He knew who was really behind instigating all of them and also did not have sympathy for all of those who betrayed him without using their common sense.
'!'
"Urgh, Y-you are lying—thud," she stuttered, her body dropping to the floor as her trembling pupils seemed to be thunderstruck by this revelation as the princess didn't have any enmity with her.
Dryn just grabbed a strand of her hair, pulling her along to where, thanks to the memories he believed belonged to his past life, he'd set something up to make everything better and give him a new chance in this already destroyed world.
"Krghh… Y-you," she gasped, her limbs paralyzed by the sword's debuff effect, her figure dragged like a ragdoll through the corridor of the palace, ignoring her pain.
'So, I died at 26 after being a game developer over there? How interesting.' Dryn ignored the woman he was dragging by her hair, deep in thought about how this world was merely a popular game in which he had formerly worked as a developer.
Passing through the corridor, he caught sight of the dark clouds and fire consuming the battlefield, once his kingdom's domain, gazing out at what once was.
He did not feel sympathy; just a look, and then he turned back to his path to change everything that had come to be due to his ignorance of being a villain in this game from the start.
However, after regaining these memories, he had already created one of the cheat loopholes of this world, which was a method to turn back time.
His real self would have never believed in such stuff, given he had read through all the theses and research papers on the magic of this world.
But this previous version of him seemed to know a loophole, or what is called a cheat in this world, to make everything better.
But the cost was enormous.
He took risks to kill so many individuals, revealing his location just to make this area denser with the aura of death.
While sacrificing people very dear to him to start the ritual, given he already received five of them just now, only one remained.
And he exactly knew who it was and when she would arrive here.
'Urgh, am I dying just like this?' Ruvina, already losing count of time, found herself being dragged through the corridor and then onto the bloodied floor, finally arriving at the training ground area of the palace where she could see, in her blurred vision, just emptiness and a red circle drawn on the floor.
Before a sudden pull in her hair threw her directly to the middle of it all.
Thud
"Kurgh—!?" Groaning as tears streamed, she turned, only for her eyes to widen as she saw four people she knew lying dead at the center of the magic circle, seething in crimson—one man and three women.
"Aarghhh—n-no, no..." Ruvina's eyes widened as her pupils trembled, seeing the four dead bodies of different people whom she had met before, causing her now paralyzed body to shed tears while looking towards the broken appearances of everyone.
"Just one more." Dryn, standing in a white bathrobe, looked towards the sky while having his hands in his pockets, completely untouched by any emotions so far as if waiting for the last individual's arrival.
BOOM!
Finally, a thunder resonated in the sky before a white glow appeared, four wings of an angel blurring through the sky, colliding with a dark ominous energy in a humanoid shape, sending the angel hurling directly toward where Dryn stood.
Bang!
"Kurghh!" The glowing, four-winged angel directly hit the ground beneath, breaking it to pieces as her lurching body revealed a fairy-like face. The woman coughed up a mouthful of blood before hitting one of the walls in the training ground.
clap clap
"Well done, Noir," Dryn clapped, looking towards the woman before turning to a dark humanoid figure that soon transformed into a man in a butler outfit, giving a knelt bow to him.
"I have fulfilled my task, Master," the archdemon said, bowing to Dryn, who just turned towards the fairy now coughing blood due to collision, her head lowered while smiling unexpectedly, lip's curled amidst blood yet amused.
"You finally defeated me, Darling~♡!" The woman's gaze snapped up, biting her lips in a seductive manner as she looked at Dryn, who scratched his left ear with his pinky finger, uncaring, and scoffed at her.
He arrived near the woman, grabbing her white angel wings and then pulling her towards the magic circle like a rag doll.
"Oh my, Darling~♡, don't be too rough on me, ahh~♡, you will damage these pretty wings of yours, hehe~♡"
'P-princess,' Ruvina, lying flat within the crimson circle, clearly heard the collision and now looked towards the woman—one renowned as the fairy bloodline holder, now dragged in a broken state just like her—but more confusing was the way she was smiling.
"You see, what the world has become due to you? Psycho bitch?" Dryn, holding the fairy wings which originally belonged to him, kept dragging her and finally threw the woman within the circle, where she landed like a wingless bird, hitting the hard surface.
"Hehehe, the sky looks just like your eyes—SWOOSH—dark," her voice muffled from a burst of energy as she kept looking toward the darkness shrouding this land, reminding her of Dryn's eyes, which turn from amber sun to dark moon.
'I can't align with these idiots next time,' Dryn thought, seeing a psychopathic woman and another still shocked, just blankly looking at him.
Everyone made him realize that he would act independently with the late memories of this world he had recently gained, as he activated the forbidden magic.
Regression magic.