There Is No World For ■■

Golden hair tied halfway back, flawless porcelain skin, deep emerald eyes, and long, fluttering lashes. Even the gentle curve of her eyes when she smiled carried an undeniable beauty.

If her ears weren’t so long—or at least if her last name wasn’t “Marx”—even Yeomyeong might have been tempted by this pure and innocent beauty.

The girl he had met in Incheon was named “Midiris Ip Marx,” though at the academy, she was better known as “Iron Midir.”

And now, here in this state of no-mind, she simply said:

“Just call me Miri.”

“....”

“It’s a nickname. Don’t be shy. Calling me by my full name even in a dream would be so strange, wouldn’t it?”

Her usual composed demeanor was gone, replaced by an unusually cheerful tone. She even looked happy—something entirely inappropriate for someone standing in a corpse-littered forest with a stranger. It wasn’t as if this was a casual date.

Yeomyeong, however, didn’t particularly care.

‘...Well, it’s just a dream, after all.’

Dreams are, by nature, extensions of one’s memories and subconscious.

Whether it’s the dream of a fatigued janitor or the no-mind state of a superhuman gaining enlightenment, the essence doesn’t change.

Which meant that the Midiris standing before him was a mere fabrication, born from his memories and subconscious mind.

Though, she was oddly lifelike—almost as vibrant as the real Midiris.

“By the way... Are you absolutely sure this isn’t a wet dream? If you’re too embarrassed to admit it, you don’t have to worry. I won’t judge.”

“....”

“Actually, I’ve always been a little curious about these ‘dirty dreams’ humans supposedly have.”

There was no way the real elf princess would say something like this.

The pure-hearted elf who had once sifted through ashes searching for her dead brothers’ keepsakes couldn’t possibly have any interest in something as trivial as wet dreams.

Yeomyeong dismissed his lingering doubts and answered firmly.

“...For the last time, it’s not that kind of dream.”

“Then why did you summon me into your dream?”

Midiris narrowed her eyes, as if daring him to explain.

With a resigned sigh, Yeomyeong recounted what had happened before he entered the no-mind state.

There wasn’t much to it. He had fought the temporary instructor because of his murderous intent, heard the essence of a martial art, and suddenly entered a no-mind state. That was all.

“Murderous intent? Enlightenment...? What does your enlightenment have to do with me?”

“...I think figuring that out might be the key to my enlightenment.”

“Hm... Maybe just the act of an elf appearing in your dream is meant to be part of your enlightenment?”

As the two exchanged speculations, a third voice cut in.

“To see without grasping, to reach the heavens without being seen—that is the teaching of Yangyeom.”

The words were as cryptic as they were profound, and far beyond Yeomyeong’s current understanding. Both he and Midiris shared a look of confusion.

Pa Sun’s neutral, androgynous voice continued.

“It is the essence of the Heavenly Mist Art you stole.”

“...That hazy martial art? ‘Heavenly Art’? Everyone I’ve shown it to calls it ‘Demonic Art.’”

“Is the thief who stole martial arts going to deny even the name? What makes you think a mana-forged armor can be inherently good or evil? Don’t impose Earth’s flimsy moral standards to distinguish the divine from the demonic.”

Pa Sun snorted loudly before adding:

“Anyway, it’s easier to grasp than this Black Wing Style nonsense. Hurry up and attain enlightenment so I can leave this damned place.”

Leave? Yeomyeong frowned at the unexpected statement and looked at Pa Sun questioningly.

“What’s with that look... Don’t tell me you didn’t know you’ve been keeping me trapped here?”

“....”

Yeomyeong didn’t reply. To be more accurate, he had nothing to say.

The silence was an unspoken confirmation.

Pa Sun’s elephantine face twisted with anger, and his tusks trembled.

“You little bastard!”

With a sudden outburst, Pa Sun swung his trunk violently. Yeomyeong instinctively reached out to retaliate, but it was a futile effort.

The moment the trunk touched him, Pa Sun’s entire body dissolved into translucent smoke.

-..! ...!!! ...!!! ..!

No words escaped Pa Sun’s now-smoky form. He simply opened and closed his mouth, silently cursing Yeomyeong.

Watching this absurd scene for a moment, Yeomyeong shook his head and turned back to Midiris.

“Miri, do you have anything to share?”

“Uh... Not really?”

“...I wasn’t trying to pressure you. Don’t worry about it.”

With that, Yeomyeong closed his eyes again.

He was almost certain of one thing: the only way to leave this no-mind state was to attain enlightenment.

Just as he had understood the essence of Wave-Breaking Blade, he needed to immerse himself in thought once more. Or so he tried.

But just as he began to calm his mind, Midiris suddenly spoke up.

Her voice, entirely different from before, was now thick with a sultry tone.

“Scarab, I do have something to give you... but can I ask you a question first?”

“...A question? About what?”

“The day you broke the bindings. What exactly did you do with Seti?”

“....”

“You two seemed really close. Almost kissed on the rooftop... until her sisters interrupted so rudely.”

Yeomyeong opened his eyes again and looked at Midiris. She was poking the ground with a stick she had picked up from somewhere.

“What’s it called again...? Oh, right. Did you take the first step on what humans call ‘the stairway to adulthood’?”

“...Why are you suddenly curious about that?”

Instead of answering, Midiris plunged the stick she was holding deep into the ground. The branch, still adorned with green leaves, now resembled a small tree.

“I was just wondering if you’ve given up on revenge.”

“...What?”

“Revenge. You know, revenge. For the dead janitors.”

Yeomyeong didn’t ask her how she knew about that.

Her emerald eyes, which had shone brightly just moments ago, had turned a deep, blood-red hue.

“It’s not over yet, is it? The Korean government, the Player... they’re all still alive, aren’t they?”

“....”

“Did you know? Midiris’s brothers were killed by the Player, too.”

He knew. The last bodies Scarab had cleaned up had been theirs.

“But Midiris didn’t dream of revenge. Because she knew Scarab would do it for her. You would find the Player and exact a revenge a hundred, a thousand times more brutal.”

“You... who are you...”

“Shh. I’m not done talking yet.”

Midiris pressed a finger to her lips and locked eyes with Yeomyeong.

“Scarab, why did you abandon revenge to start playing at romance? Do you like Seti that much? Enough to give up on revenge?”

“....”

“I’ve been holding back, you know. When you were playing hero in Manchuria, when you were playing student at the academy... I endured it all.”

Yeomyeong clenched his fists.

As his golden eyes grew cold, whatever was wearing Midiris’s face kept going.

“Oh, wait, are you trying to justify it? Telling yourself Seti’s your ally in revenge, so it’s fine?”

“....”

“Foolish thought. The government might be her enemy, but the Player isn’t. And more importantly...”

“...More importantly?”

“She still has her sisters. Three of them, no less. But you? You have nothing.”

The sultry voice pierced his ears and stabbed into his chest.

“When the time comes for Seti to weigh revenge against her sisters, which do you think she’ll choose? You already know the answer.”

The elf princess licked her lips with a serpentine tongue, like a predator eyeing its prey.

“So you ran away, didn’t you? Because you also want to choose Seti over revenge. Ah, love—it’s the perfect excuse.”

Before Yeomyeong realized it, his hand had shot out and grabbed Midiris’s neck.

Beneath her soft skin, he could feel the fragile bones that he could snap at any moment.

“Starting to see why your murderous intent was overflowing, aren’t you?”

“...Shut up.”

“Here, let me tell you why. The Yeomyeong in your head wants to live like a normal person with Seti. But the Scarab in your heart doesn’t.”

Yeomyeong squeezed her neck harder, his teeth grinding audibly.

But instead of faltering, Midiris’s voice grew even more seductive.

“Your mind and heart are at odds, so your body leaks murderous intent. That crow woman offered to help, but all she can do is patch things up temporarily. You know that, right? If you can’t eliminate the source, what’s the point of draining it?”

“....”

“So the solution is simple. Give up everything except revenge. Think about it. Why bother chasing the Player? Just kill all the academy students instead.”

She smiled—a beautiful, haunting smile—and whispered.

“Go to Korea right now. Attack the ministerial meeting at Gyeongmudae and set the National Assembly on fire. What does it matter if innocent civilians die? The janitors were innocent civilians too, weren’t they?”

Yeomyeong tightened his grip even further. But with every added ounce of pressure, Midiris leaned closer, pressing her body against his.

“Why do you keep pretending to be a good person, Scarab?”

Her delicate fingers traced his chest, then up to his neck, finally brushing against his lips.

“You swore at the grave to kill them all, didn’t you?”

Her slender fingers slid into his mouth, caressing his tongue. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

“Let’s kill Seti while we’re at it. The Saintess too. Then you won’t have anything holding you back.”

“....”

“Let’s kill her sisters, that idiot Ado you couldn’t finish earlier... and don’t worry about the crow. You know how to catch her off guard now. Didn’t you see? Not even a beastkin could survive a direct hit from the Comet Sword.”

Her fevered breath was now brushing against his face.

“You’ll do it, right? Revenge?”

“....”

“If you nod right now... you’ll wake up from this no-mind state. You’ll gain power far stronger than anything Black Wing Style or Heavenly Mist Art could offer.”

The alluring voice tempted him, but Yeomyeong remained still, doing nothing.

“...Scarab?”

When the elf princess pressed for an answer, Yeomyeong bit down on the finger in his mouth.

There was no severed finger, no scream.

But the fake Midiris flinched and stepped back, startled.

“What are you doing?”

Yeomyeong spat her blood onto the ground. It tasted faintly of minty toothpaste.

“What I have to do.”

Midiris—or rather, the embodiment of murderous intent—scowled.

“So you’re really going to give up on revenge?”

Even twisted in anger, her face was so beautiful that it almost seemed graceful. But beauty wouldn’t shield her from what came next.

Thud!

Mana imbued with Wave-Breaking Blade struck her square in the face.

“No.”

Yeomyeong didn’t stop there. Grabbing her by the collar as she crumpled, he pulled her up.

“This is just... between you and me.”

With those curt words, Yeomyeong unleashed a flurry of blows.

He continued to strike until murderous intent could no longer rear its head in his dream.