The 60 seconds granted to the Reaper had expired. Fethan stood in silence, regaining his composure after the four cursed spirits had been sent to the Eternal Realm. He gazed at the man standing beneath the tree, now surrounded by his enemies. Shaman looked no better than a cornered rat—bloodshot eyes, pale skin, and quivering lips. Above, the gloomy sky sparked with flickers of lightning, followed by a deafening rumble.

  "You've lost. Return Stella's soul. I swear you'll die peacefully and not end up as my slave."

  Fethan threatened him with the one thing dark mages feared most. In this world, there were far worse things than death—eternal torment. Death offered rest in the afterlife, but being bound and enslaved by a hated enemy, used as a tool, or twisted beyond recognition into something inhuman—that was the worst fate imaginable. No one knew when such suffering would end. That was why Ricky rejoiced when Fethan freed him from Shaman’s control.

  Sometimes, going to hell was better than being used and abused by other humans.

  At least in hell, you knew how many millennia you had to wait. But to be a cursed spirit serving a dark mage? That might never end.

  "Ha! You think you've really beaten me, kid?"

  Shaman laughed despite the threat.

  "Your cursed spirits are gone. You think you’ll survive against my army?"

  Fethan spoke like a man holding all the cards. Though his undead army had suffered, his core forces were intact. Shaman, on the other hand, had nothing left—not a single spirit.

  "Heh… nothing left? Kid, a dark mage never has just one trump card! Let me show you! The true terror of a dark mage isn’t curses or spirits—it’s this!"

  Shaman whipped off his cloak and revealed an ancient spell tablet engraved with a horned beast skull wrapped in tentacle-like tendrils.

  An enormous arcane circle of unknown origin spread for dozens of meters. A dreadful pressure enveloped the graveyard. Fethan’s eyes darted around, his heart pounding like it would explode from his chest. A fear long forgotten surged back.

  "Fethan! Fethan!"

  Luminus turned to him. His face had gone paper-white, his lips trembling, hands shaking, and sweat pouring uncontrollably.

  "It feels… just like back then. Lighter, but still the same."

  Fethan gagged. It was like when he first stared into the face of that twisted statue in the Forgotten City. He wasn’t the only one feeling it. The werewolf, Ricky, and the Sewer Rat King instinctively retreated from the arcane circle.

  Shaman snapped his fingers.

  The cocoons hanging from the tree fell. Their silk bindings unraveled, revealing human forms—men and women, still breathing but unconscious.

  Shaman raised a ritual dagger, his eyes scanning the captives.

  It reminded Fethan of the most depraved and inhuman magic recorded in Gamo’s book:

  Ritual Magic.

  "Stop him now!"

  Fethan pointed and ordered. The werewolf and Ricky lunged for the circle—only to be repelled. No spirit could enter. With no other option, Fethan ran in himself.

  "Don’t!" Luminus shouted, but it was too late.

  It was too dangerous to face Shaman without backup. Fethan knew the risk—but he had to stop the ritual. Even if it cost him his life.

  And Shaman, who knew exactly how vital this ritual was, would never allow that.

  "Come forth, Chameleon!"

  From the void, an inhuman lizard-like creature appeared and tackled Fethan, sending him flying. Luminus and Ricky were stunned—none had sensed this cursed spirit. It had evaded even Luminus’s senses and Fethan’s Reaper Eyes.

  "Ha! Told you. A dark mage always has more up his sleeve. I’ve survived twenty years in this filthy world. If I couldn’t handle this, I’d already be dead. Now die for me, Chameleon. Don’t let that brat ruin my ritual!"

  Shaman commanded it to sacrifice itself. Even though it was his last valuable spirit, he had to give everything to survive.

  "Let go, you disgusting lizard! Get off my boyfriend!"

  Luminus slashed at the creature with Ninetails. But the lizard wouldn’t budge. It pinned Fethan to the ground, stalling for time. Its master had ordered it to die, and it would hold until death.

  With Fethan and his vassals restrained, Shaman had free rein.

  He raised his dagger and began to slaughter the captives—people who had come to the graveyard to commit suicide. They were easy sacrifices. All he had to do was cast a sleep curse and collect their bodies.

  "Don’t hate me. You were going to die anyway. Let me make your death worthwhile."

  He caressed a woman’s neck, then drove the blade deep, pulling it through her artery. Blood sprayed like a fountain.

  "Stop it… Stop it now!"

  Fethan could only watch as Shaman butchered them like chickens. Over ten lives taken in minutes. Their bodies were laid in a perfect circle. Shaman tossed a bundle of red orbs onto the ground—each one pulsing with stolen life force.

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  Green flames ignited atop the corpses.

  "I, a faithful disciple, call upon the god from another world. Hear my plea."

  Ritual Magic: Invocation of the Abyssal Voice.

  A circle written in fresh blood lit up with ancient runes beyond mortal comprehension. The victims’ souls floated into the air. The red orbs exploded in bloody light. An unearthly sound rang out in every creature’s ears.

  Shaman trembled with excitement and dread. Countless giant eyes rolled in the sky.

  Even outside the graveyard, chaos erupted. Civilians living normal lives saw thousands of massive eyes staring down from above. Panic spread.

  "Hahaha! I can’t believe it! One of the great gods answered me! I must’ve used up all my luck for this."

  Shaman grinned manically, speaking in a booming voice:

  "To the god of the dark realm, the black sheep of the wilds, the parent of a thousand young! Mata, origin of all life—I offer the souls of these sinners. Hear my cry! Let your divine essence dwell in this vessel. With blood and flesh, I welcome your heir!"

  The arcane flames turned red. The corpses liquefied into pulsating meat, absorbed by the tree’s roots. Fethan watched the veins moving beneath the bark. Branches twisted like limbs, slithering up from a pit of decay.

  Pustules burst with foul stench. Muscular roots bulged grotesquely. Branches split into thousands of writhing tendrils. Enormous reptilian eyes popped out across the monstrous trunk.

  "Rejoice! The origin and end of life! The primeval being from the dawn of time! Singer of history, dweller of the planet’s deepest depths!"

  Shaman’s voice echoed across the forest. The green flames died. A wail echoed from the abomination.

  Fethan stared blankly. Looking into its eyes made him shake uncontrollably. But it still didn’t compare to the statue from the Forgotten City. That memory gave him just enough strength to resist.

  [A dark mage has summoned a being from the dark realm: Demiurge Slime.]

  [Main Quest: Eliminate the Origin of Life and Calamity.]

  [The Demiurge Slime is a rare dark realm entity. A seed of humanity’s extinction. Stop it before it matures. The longer it lives, the stronger it becomes. There is no room for error.]

  [Time limit: 16 hours.]

  [Reward: Key to the Dark Realm Dungeon, 100 Soul Coins, Special Building – Dark Forge, 1x Rare Skill Book, 1-Year Tax Collection Card]

  The Demiurge Slime wasn’t a cursed spirit—it was a dark realm being incarnated into a vessel in the human world. Its form reflected its true self. Its aura overwhelmed anything Fethan and Luminus had ever faced. They instinctively stepped back.

  Fethan couldn’t see anything—only a void. What stood before him was a higher-dimensional being. Its true form defied imagination. The system couldn’t scan it—but Fethan saw its soul.

  His mind was assaulted. He saw things he shouldn’t. Indescribable. In that moment, he understood what it meant to face an indescribable entity.

  He had to force himself to stop perceiving it. He had to see it as a mere lump of meat in a 3D world. Otherwise, he’d stab himself to escape.

  Every summoned soul froze. Twenty sets of eyes locked them in place.

  Chameleon, battered by Luminus, had its head severed. Fethan was free—but too late. The ritual was complete. No one could stop it now.

  "You’ve lost your mind! Why would you summon a dark realm being—that dark realm being?! You’ve turned this place into hell! You’re dragging millions into the abyss!"

  Luminus stormed toward Shaman, eyes burning with fury. Her voice was a dagger.

  "Hahaha! I just got lucky! The great god answered me! I lost everything—but with this, I’ll take it all back! I’ll kill you, steal the book, and enslave your souls. Everyone in the city will bow to me. All because of you, brat!"

  Shaman sneered at Fethan, who still resisted the slime’s crushing presence.

  ‘I should’ve killed him!’

  If Fethan hadn’t cornered him, Shaman wouldn’t have summoned the Demiurge Slime. He should’ve finished it earlier.

  The slime was one of the most dangerous dark realm entities. Alone, it wasn’t the strongest—but if left to grow, it would reshape ecosystems and spread like wildfire.

  Once, a dark mage used one to erase an entire country from history. Thankfully, this one was still young. But even a newborn could easily kill Fethan.

  "Demiurge Slime, kill them all. Bring me their souls!"

  Shaman used a divine seal. The fleshy tree writhed and shot tendrils like spears.

  "Arf!"

  A Hellhound was skewered. Its soul didn’t return to the Eternal Realm. It vanished into oblivion.

  Spirits killed by dark realm beings were erased completely.

  The Death Rats and Hellhounds fled. Each tendril strike killed instantly. With every kill, the slime grew.

  Dozens of tendrils shot toward Fethan. Luminus blocked with her flaming sword.

  ‘Too tough. I can’t cut it!’

  The tendrils regenerated instantly.

  "Fethan! You have to get out! Save yourself first!"

  "Got it."

  He saw the Eternal Realm’s population drop rapidly—barely 700 left. He wasn’t going to save Stella. He couldn’t even save himself.

  ‘I need to call Shiel. This isn’t just my problem. If I can escape the magic field and contact him—I win.’

  "Run while you can, brat! You’ll never escape this forest!"

  Shaman laughed madly. Hundreds of tendrils burst from the earth, blocking every path.

  "You can’t escape the Demiurge Slime. Its vessel is a Bengal fig—the world’s longest-rooted tree! Its roots stretch to the road. Unless you teleport, you’re trapped!"

  "Tch… damn it."

  Fethan was out of options.

  No more running.

  "Lumi, it’s a tree, right? Can we burn it?"

  "I don’t know."

  Her mind was blank. Maybe she’d learned it once—but she couldn’t recall.

  "Alright. Lumi… I’m sorry."

  Fethan turned to the woman he loved and smiled. Her heart dropped.

  "Don’t do anything stupid!"

  "I won’t lose you. Not again."

  "No! Feth—"

  She reached for him—only for her hand to vanish into thin air.

  Her last sight was his sad smile.

  She reappeared on the grassy field in front of the Eternal Castle. Her beautiful face was blank, shadowed. Her legs gave out.

  "AARGHH!!"

  She pounded the ground, screaming rage, grief, and fury at the world.

  "It’s just one dark mage! Why?! Why can’t I kill him?! Why!!"

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her purple aura darkened without her noticing.

  ‘If I die… I hope the Eternal Realm survives. At least Lumi and my vassals can go on. Maybe one day, someone else will inherit it.’

  Fethan smiled faintly. He couldn’t bear to see Luminus destroyed by the slime. If that happened, his heart would shatter.

  But he didn’t realize—he’d already shattered someone else’s.

  "Giving up, kid? If you’d just given me the book and map, I’d have let you die in peace."

  Shaman threw Fethan’s earlier words back at him.

  "Heh. Trusting a shit-for-brains like you? I’d rather believe the earth is flat."

  Fethan raised his wand. Massive spirit energy burst from him. His cursed arm reignited.

  The pressure swept through the battlefield. Spirits howled a funeral dirge.

  Shaman laughed. The brat still resisted.

  "Burn until no soul remains—Exuro Animam!"

  Fethan cast the Flame Curse of Annihilation a second time. Black-gray fire erupted, climbing to his elbow. The more pain he endured, the stronger it became.

  "AAAGHHHH!!"

  His scream was pure agony. His arm turned to ash. His eyes reddened. Blood poured from his mouth and nose. He clenched his jaw so hard, a molar cracked.

  His right arm blackened like charcoal. With one final surge, he hurled the wand—straight at the Demiurge Slime.

  The curse exploded. Black fire engulfed the monstrous tree. Its tendrils flailed to extinguish the flames—but this fire wouldn’t go out.

  Fethan saw his strongest curse actually wound it.

  But then—he saw the burnt area severed. Tumors regrew. In seconds, it healed.

  His smile vanished.

  "Now you understand, kid. This is the power of higher ritual magic. You think stronger curses mean victory? That’s your mistake."

  Shaman waved his wand. Tendrils lashed out, binding Fethan’s limbs. The green pus burned his clothes and seared his flesh.

  "AAAGHHHH!!"

  Fethan screamed like a slaughtered pig. The tendrils secreted acid strong enough to melt muscle. One touch could rot flesh and vessels.

  Foam frothed from his mouth. His vision went white. He couldn’t think.

  His spirits vanished—one by one—until only he remained.

  Shaman pointed his wand at Fethan, smiling in triumph.

  "Eterna Somnus—Sleep forever!"