—Destroy the blue pillars.

Nations across the globe received the same message at the same hour. No information besides that the sender was from Korea.

That truncated, out-of-context phrase was hard to take seriously. People ignored it or forgot it quickly.

Then, not long after, Ariena Bavadi died. And with her death, the hypnosis she’d woven across the world began to unravel.

The leaders who’d shown favor to the Hexagram Order finally saw how absurd a cause they’d backed.

Whistleblowers who’d participated in the Order’s schemes came forward one after another. Around then, the message—‘Destroy the blue pillars’—was reevaluated.

But smashing the blue pillars was easier said than done. The Divine Army stood guard before them.

Specifically, an unknown force field emitted by the Divine Warriors blocked all bombardment. And sending in ground troops meant certain slaughter.

Then one day, the Divine Army guarding the blue pillar vanished without a trace. What could it mean? The world’s leaders racked their brains in anxious deliberation.

The conclusion they reached, through all that agony, was surprisingly clear. They had no idea why the bastards had disappeared, but while the water was flowing in, they might as well stir the oars.

Moscow, Russia.

Bariloche, Argentina.

Freetown, Sierra Leone.

Toronto, Canada.

Gold Coast, Australia.

Paris, France.

Toward the six pillars identified so far, humanity’s hottest weapons were fired in volleys.

It was the most magnificent struggle in human history.

* * *

Cracks spiderwebbed across the pillars surrounding Go Geonryong and Sujin. Geonryong thrashed and struggled, trying every trick he had, but it hardly mattered.

The pillar that had soared into the sky began crumbling from its top down. With each collapse, Geonryong’s face grayed further.

“No—no way. This can’t be. It can’t be! I finally… I finally finished it!”

«I’ve waited and longed for this day so long—how can it end in vain like this!»

A roar erupted from within. A howl of Korean and Asvillam speech tangled together, almost a scream.

Go Byeonggap couldn’t fully grasp what was happening either. All he could make out was that things had gone wrong on the other side.

‘That was close. Too close.’

He wiped a hand over his chest.

When Go Geonryong had been wrapped up inside that blue pillar, protected, Byeonggap’s heart had nearly dropped into his stomach. He’d thought his childish revenge had ruined everything.

But heaven had lent a hand, granted him another chance. He wouldn’t make the same foolish mistake again.

“Hoo…”

He let out a long breath and tightened his grip on the sword he’d planted in the ground. His fingers clenched so hard his palm throbbed as he set his stance. A massive force coiled up from within and burst outward.

Black energy seeped up like smoke, wrapping around the blade. The obsidian sword stirred and shuddered like a living creature coming alive.

The darkness pooled against the sword’s edge and whipped into a storm. The whirlwind raged so violently his body trembled. But he didn’t flinch. He wanted to leave not a single trace of the enemy before him.

«You motherfucking—! Yes, it’s you. All of this calamity started with you. Why must I, Madmut, suffer such humiliation? A mere creature dares to make your creator drink shit twice! I won’t let you get away with it!»

Inside the collapsing pillar, Go Geonryong’s glare locked onto him. His eyes were murderous.

He seemed utterly consumed by Madmut. He flung Sujin aside carelessly, then burst straight through a pillar, charging forward.

«You think you can defeat me, worm? On this occasion, I’ll annihilate you utterly! I’ll tear you apart so completely that not a trace of your existence remains anywhere in the material world—nor the entire universe!»

Go Geonryong’s body swelled with lumps like boils. Then his skin split open, and something massive erupted, shedding him like a molting insect.

It was Madmut’s true form: a giant with blue skin and ninety-nine eyes. The creature lunged at Go Byeonggap, arms outstretched, with the crushing weight of a falling meteor.

Go Byeonggap looked up calmly. His lips moved.

«Crush.»

The sword shot forward. A pitch-black vortex surged to meet Madmut’s charge.

Madmut fought back violently. He ripped at the vortex with his hands, bit into it with his teeth, resisting with desperate fury.

But the demonic whirlwind grew larger with every piece of Madmut’s flesh it devoured. Within moments, it doubled the giant’s size and began to suck in everything around it.

Crumbling buildings, concrete pavement, the weeds lining the street—everything was dragged into the vortex.

Among them was Go Geonryong’s lover, Sujin. She tumbled unconscious into the maelstrom, limp. Go Byeonggap watched with eyes as dead as his emotions.

Then—

“Ah… no!”

A scream like a wail came from beside him. It was Go Geonryong—nothing but a shell now, a corpse barely animate—who bolted toward the vortex.

“No, Sujin! No! Don’t go!”

He looked utterly deranged. Go Geonryong threw himself into the vortex.

Did he find his lover in there? Who knows. But for a man hailed as the world’s strongest, it was a paltry death.

Meanwhile, Madmut thrashed on. His struggles grew visibly weaker. As time passed, his resistance faded, until at last, with a hollow tone, he denied the world itself.

«This… cannot be…. I, who have lived through eons…. Like this… so hollowly….»

Go Byeonggap stared at the vortex with vacant eyes.

The vortex—seeming destined to grow forever, devouring everything—stopped without warning.

Go Byeonggap knew instinctively.

Madmut was dead. A death witnessed only by his one enemy. It was a fitting end for him.

* * *

“Fuck….”

Evening had settled silently. This place was a ruined city.

The wind cut sharp. Cold winter air scraped across the tip of his nose, and when it did, the thick stench of blood throbbed behind his temples.

Go Byeonggap sat sprawled any which way, staring at the scene before him for a long while. He was the only living, breathing thing left in this place.

The realization settled over him like a distant ache. His chest pulsed with a dull, stabbing pain — one good push and the tears would spill.

The fight was over. Go Geonryong, Madmut, the Last Eighteen — all gone. They had scattered into a handful of dust and returned to nature.

He had finally woken from the long nightmare.

But the nightmare’s aftermath clung thickly, carving tear tracks at the corners of his eyes.

“…Tch.”

On habit, he patted his inside pocket, then clicked his tongue short. No cigarettes. Of course there weren’t — he’d left the last pack resting on Jeong Seongyeong’s corpse.

Times like these, a single drag was all he craved. Still, he had no mind to trudge back to where she lay and retrieve them.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he’d sunk into a vicious lethargy. He didn’t want to lift a single finger.

The great task was done, but what remained behind was a wretched reality. He hesitated to step foot into that reality. Maybe that was why he sat frozen like a monument of longing, not budging an inch.

The dimming sky turned utterly pitch black.

It was around the time his sense of smell had gone dull from breathing so much blood.

Byeonggap’s ears and hands had gone numb from the icy wind. Even the emotion of grief had dried up from his eyes, leaving only a murky luster.

He had been staring at the ground gouged deep by a pitch-black whirlwind. Now he withdrew his gaze. Rousing his trembling knees, he stood.

“Alright… shitty as it is, a man’s gotta live. The living have to live.”

The subordinates who had stuck by him every day since he became the Goblin Lord.

The woman whose acquaintance he’d made during the Northern Expedition, with whom a budding affection had begun to bloom.

All the other bonds, big and small — dead.

Maybe Byeonggap himself would have chosen to follow them. If he weren’t someone’s king. If he weren’t someone’s son.

In Asvillam, subordinates still waited for his return with desperate longing. And his only mother was still dabbing at her eyes. How could he abandon them and simply vanish?

Responsibility was that heavy a thing. Wasn’t there a saying? He who wears the crown must bear its weight.

“Crown, my ass. Don’t even have royal underwear.”

Byeonggap trudged forward until he stood before Madmut’s corpse. The body had been blasted away, leaving only the upper chest. The ninety-nine eyes embroidered across the god’s face sneered at him.

What remained was barely worth a rag, but he had to bring it anyway. He had a promise to keep with the demons.

He moved to gather Madmut’s remains and return to Asvillam — but as he bent to lift the meaty chunks the bastard had left behind, something caught his eye.

“…What’s that?”

Across the way, something glittered. It drifted through the air, writhing like a fish swimming in open sky.

Forgetting his task, Go Byeonggap walked toward it. A moment later he spoke, baffled.

“What is this?”

A luminous sphere the size of a fist. It looked familiar. Then it hit him — this was just like the souls he’d bought from the Ancient Shop.

He reached out carefully and closed his hand around the light. Tears spilled from his eyes.

“…Doran?”

A warm presence wrapped around his frozen hand. He could feel her in there — this was unmistakably Doran’s soul.

Go Byeonggap’s head snapped around. He looked this way and that, like a man who’d lost something precious.

“Ah.”

A sigh escaped through his barely-parted lips. Countless souls swam through the sky above him.

Dorma, Kiriyan, Turka, Changsik, Bamond… in the lights stitched across the heavens, he felt his underlings. And they looked ready to drift away any moment.

A sob choked his throat. But he forced the words out anyway.

“No — I won’t let you go! Where are you going, abandoning your king like this? All of you, come back!”

He pulled Doran’s soul to his chest. But the soul slipped free of his body, rising slowly. Byeonggap held it tighter.

He couldn’t let them go. If he let them leave like this, he’d never sleep easy again as long as he lived.

What could he do? How could he put them all back where they belonged?

‘Damn it, is there something for this in the Ancient Shop? An artifact that puts everything back where it belongs… shit, what would that matter? I don’t have the Ancient Shop or anything else anymore.’

Byeonggap lamented the absence of the Ancient Shop.

‘Landriol — what would you have done? Huh? If it were you…’

“Ah!”

Still sobbing, he jerked his head up like he’d been shocked. Tears still streamed from his eyes.

Landriol had created the Ancient Shop with the demon’s power. He’d made a wondrous shop the likes of which the world had never seen.

Go Byeonggap had none of that creativity. Landriol had pointed that out, too.

But if he lacked creativity, he had desperation to spare — and the strength to back it up.

‘With this power…’

The demon’s power writhed inside him. Its essence was chaos. Chaos has no form, no rules. Which means anything is possible.

He didn’t need to make something wondrous like the Ancient Shop. What he needed was a crude miracle.

One problem: the demon’s power was finite. Once spent, it didn’t replenish.

Byeonggap deliberated for about a second, then slapped himself across the face. What reason was there to hesitate? He could live just fine without this power.

“Yeah, I’m fine without this power. I’ve got what I really need. So please!!”

He thrust both arms upward. From the deepest core of his being, the power of chaos began to surge.

An aura splotched with pitch-black stains spread outward in every direction. Farther—faster! Byeonggap screamed silent exertion, roaring without a sound.

Sow chaos into order, and turmoil comes.

But add chaos to chaos, and peace may follow instead.

In that moment, Byeonggap worked a miracle.

It was the Emperor Go Byeonggap’s radiant miracle.