Episode 1131
Chapter 258: The Predator of All Dimensions (21)

Everyone fighting kept glancing up at the sky.

It was because of the relentless, piercing light. A light so fast that even superhumans struggled to track its trajectory—too swift to be blocked by shields or weapons. Most of those battling on the ground were floundering in the blood-red sea, making it nearly impossible to dodge.

All they could do was grit their teeth and pray. Pray that the light would pass them by just one more time, granting them a few more precious moments to fight for the world—even if it was a futile resistance.

Amid the chaos of blood and death, their eyes were suddenly drawn to a particularly brilliant streak of light. It wasn’t the light fired by Keliak.

Could it be… a meteor?

Like a meteor, a single beam of light left a beautiful tail as it fell toward the battlefield.

Somehow, it felt like they should make a wish. In the midst of such horrific despair, clinging to even a superstition like wishing on a meteor seemed almost necessary.

Just as the allied forces looked up, lost in that thought, the light nearing the ground took on the shape of a person.

“Maknae!?”

“Brother Jin…!?”

Those defending the central battlefield, and the Changsung who were protecting Jin and searching for the legacy, were all stunned. None of them realized that time had stopped.

Shuaak!

A massive wave of radiant energy burst from Bradamante’s blade, slicing through the red tide that had been about to crash down on the Changsung. Jin landed where the wave had broken apart and lifted his head.

“How did this happen?” Shiron and Ban didn’t ask. They simply nodded, reading the fact that Jin’s left arm and strength had been restored.

Orgal and Enya were riding on Ban’s back. Orgal’s consciousness flickered in and out, while Enya clenched her teeth, biting back questions about Valeria.

“This is the right way, Father. The entrance to the Anbae is about three thousand steps ahead, hidden beneath the Red Sea.”

Jin handed Bradamante to Shiron—a silent message to switch swords.

“You’re not the head of the family yet, Maknae. So make sure you come back with it.”

“Of course.”

Their swords exchanged hands.

The Barisada gripped in Jin’s hand vibrated heavily a few times, as if longing for Temar, as if acknowledging Jin.

Then, dodging the light falling from above, Jin extended Sigmund to Ban.

“I don’t think I’ll need it in the legacy, brother. Cover me—I’ll increase my speed alone.”

There was no reason to stick together anymore. After all, Keliak’s prime target was Jin himself. It was better to move alone, drawing Keliak’s attacks away and protecting their allies.

“Alright, I’ll cover you. But you have to come back for it. Go!”

Defying Keliak’s desire, Jin leapt forward with all his might. Several beams of light grazed his cheek and thigh threateningly.

“…Time? Could it be that the world just stopped for you?”

Keliak’s voice, thick with malice, stabbed at Jin’s back. Even with his eyes covered, Jin immediately realized time had stopped. Otherwise, he wouldn’t still be alive.

“Unbelievable. So the leader of the Gray Owl had this much power.”

He’d hidden it well until now, never revealing it even as the rebels crumbled. No wonder Silin missed it.

Keliak swallowed his words and shook his head. His complacency was now the very thing holding him back, just before becoming the One God.

He felt mocked.

Helluram, as if foreseeing this outcome, covered his eyes again. The rebel leader, without the power of the Demon Stone and Kinzel, had briefly stopped time.

Thanks to that, Jin—who should have died a hundred times over—rose like an immortal and headed toward the legacy of Solderet.

“Then I’ll destroy the whole world. Until there’s nothing left moving or sacrificing itself for you.”

A ringing filled Jin’s head, like rough metal scraping together. Blood dripped from his ears, and his neck and shoulders burned. But he ignored it all, dodging the light, cutting through the tidal waves, and pressing forward.

“Protect the So Family head!”

“Bamel Alliance, everyone alive, shield Brother Jin!”

Rumble… Swoosh!

The battlefield shook, and the Red Sea grew even more violent. The sun glowing behind Keliak drew closer to the ground, exploding in all directions.

But this wasn’t just happening on the battlefield.

The entire world.

Across the 33 dimensions, earthquakes and storms raged. The blood-red water had replaced every river and ocean, and the sun hung in every sky like a malignant tumor.

Wherever the tremors were felt, people collapsed like sick trees, their bodies torn by winds sharper than blades. Their charred corpses blackened and vanished under the sun’s scorching gaze.

“Can you feel it? This land, this world, your home is dying. You will feel it. Everyone will. This is the price for loving Jin Runkandel. What is it you keep trying to protect? Do you really think you can save even a grain of sand from me?”

In the city of swords, Carlon; the magical city, Drakka; the empire without a capital; the secret palace; Tikan; and even the small, harmless lands untouched by any power—

Disaster spread everywhere. Keliak’s hatred had already wiped out seventy percent of all life in this world in less than a minute.

Ten minutes, no—five minutes more, and not a single living thing would remain.

Life cannot survive without land to tread, water to drink, or sky to look upon. Even if every living being were as strong as Shiron, that would never change.

As Keliak said, everyone felt it. Even amid burning, tearing, and drowning pain, it was as clear as a brand.

There was no light of regeneration left anywhere. The golden light that once illuminated the underworld, the golden souls remaining in the Holy Kingdom—all were being absorbed and erased by the Red Sea.

“Still, we can only do what we can.”

Jin kept running, speaking without pause. The darkness left by Helluram still blocked Keliak’s eyes and senses. Jin had been pierced by light and drowned in the sea, nearly dying countless times, but each time someone had helped him.

It wasn’t only those who had stepped into the extreme void like Shiron and Ban who could help. It didn’t even require superhuman strength.

Anyone beside Jin, anyone who could reach out their hand, could help.

They took the light for him, fell into the water for him. In other words, they died for him. They sacrificed themselves.

With the world ending, paradoxically, sacrifice no longer required a grand resolve. If no one could escape death anyway, reaching out for someone else was less sacrifice and more an act of preserving dignity.

Especially if that someone was hope.

If there was even one chance to punish the one who brought the world to ruin, it was that.

“You can’t see, so you’re just doing what you can to stop me, to stop us, aren’t you, Keliak Ziphl? You must think we’re a joke. But it’s the same for you. You’re destroying the whole world, yet you still can’t kill just one person—me.”

For a moment, Keliak was speechless.

He was destroying the entire world but couldn’t kill one man. Why? It wasn’t because Jin was that strong. Even Shiron and Ban couldn’t stop the disaster.

Then was it because he wasn’t yet the One God? Because he still lacked the power to change what should never change?

Once the Demon Stone was fully restored, and the Sun God’s resurrection complete, would he then be able to kill Jin Runkandel?

Could he really? Even as the One God, could he truly annihilate Jin Runkandel?

For the first time, doubt crept in.

With the full power of the Demon Stone and Kinzel, nothing should be impossible. According to all the knowledge and experience Keliak had accumulated, that had to be true.

So why couldn’t he answer? And if he did, why would it feel like a lie?

“That’s the truly ridiculous thing, Keliak Ziphl. No matter how much you babble about being the One God, no matter how many people we love you kill, no matter how much you destroy the very land we live on—you still can’t stop me from getting in there…”

That’s your limit.

Jin trailed off and looked back.

He had almost run the full three thousand steps. Only about fifty remained, and then the Red Sea covering the legacy.

All that was left was to part the sea.

But so far, Jin had dodged the waves that tried to engulf him, slashing the tidal waves to carve a path through.

He didn’t have the strength to part the sea itself. He couldn’t cut through the deep, red ocean to reach the legacy buried beneath. Not with the energy he had left.

By then, Keliak sensed that Helluram’s darkness would soon end.

‘His senses will return soon. The legacy of Solderet is buried beneath the sea, so the moment his eyes open, I’ll kill Jin Runkandel in one strike…! I have to!’

His heart pounded like when he was human. He was suffocating with anxiety. If Jin entered the legacy, the pain would be unbearable. Even if he destroyed this world, that helplessness would never fade.

But Jin wasn’t just looking back out of despair, thinking this was the end.

He was certain.

‘Someone will come. Someone will come to open the sea… They will, without fail.’

He turned around to see who it was.

And moments later, Jin caught sight of something dark, like a towering column of smoke, rising from beneath the crimson sea in the distance.

“It’s you. Yeah. I knew it had to be you. I hoped it was you.”

Murakan.

The guardian dragon of Jin Runkandel, submerged in the red sea and lost to illusion. Now, he was flying straight toward Jin.

“Kid!”

“Murakan, split the sea here!”

Like everyone else, no one questioned the command. Murakan beat his massive wings and unleashed his breath. Knowing they were protecting him, knowing they had surrounded him, he poured out his spiritual energy more desperately than at any time in the past three thousand years.

That breath tore a huge hole right in the middle of the crimson sea.

Within it shimmered a barrier as dark as midnight—the gateway to the final stronghold of Solderet.