"Are you done playing around?" Mujun asked lightly, almost jokingly. "This is just the beginning, you know."
His whisper sounded jubilant. Simultaneously, the five weapons behind Mujun moved. Magic beams slashed through Rugentta's body.
His left hand was severed.
His right leg collapsed.
His left leg was split.
Before Rugentta could even scream—he had already lost all his limbs.
Mujun stood in the center of the Birdcage. Before him, Rugentta lay helpless. Black blood dripped slowly, silently. His face was a mask of shock intertwined with the deep terror etched in his eyes. His brain was not even capable of issuing a command to use a healing spell. He was like someone who thought they had woken up, only to realize they had just been dragged into their deepest nightmare.
But Mujun did not wait for Rugentta to compose himself. His time was limited. The six artifacts were indeed powerful, but using them was rapidly consuming his own body. With a single flick of his hand, space seemed to tear open, and from within the rift emerged the still-unconscious figure of Nestal. His breath was ragged; his body barely reacted to the world anymore.
The six sacred weapons floated in a circular formation in the air, humming and vibrating with a massive mana that seemed to vaporize the very atmosphere around them. Everyone behind the magic mirrors watched the scene with wide eyes and agape mouths. They felt as though they had been pulled into an absurd illusion—one that their own logic could not accept.
But Mujun did not care. Nestal was unconscious? True. Rugentta was helpless? True. But that didn't mean the world was dead. These two were the individuals most beloved by the world itself. Mujun could still feel how the world aided them—how his previous attack had been parried by Rugentta, when it should have been enough to incapacitate him.
Therefore, he had to move fast, before the world realized what he intended to do to its two "lovers." Everything that remained of his body in this world was being utterly absorbed by the six artifacts.
"So this is the end?" Rugentta's voice was hoarse. "You're going to kill me?"
The world began to move rapidly, forcing Rugentta back into a state of calm even though he should still have been terrified. His body began to show signs of rapid regeneration. Even so, the strikes from the six artifacts could not be healed so easily.
Mujun shook his head. "No."
He turned toward Nestal. "And I am not going to save him, either."
Rugentta's eyes narrowed. "Then what are you doing?"
Mujun raised his hand. He knew Rugentta was trying to buy time. With the world's help, his wounds would mend. Moreover, Mujun could feel Nestal behind him beginning to stir as his consciousness started to rouse.
The six weapons vibrated in unison.
"I told you before," he said flatly. "I am changing the world."
The dragon-headed pistol rotated slowly, its jaws opening to spew a deep red light. The cracked shield glowed with a dull gold, reflecting a distorted image of the world. The transparent bow vibrated the air every time its string moved on its own. The magic staff emitted ancient symbols that shifted constantly. The sword in Mujun's hand hummed lowly, absorbing all surrounding mana with staggering speed. The giant mace pulsed like a second heart.
The six weapons were not preparing to attack. They were preparing to write.
A massive sense of dread welled up within Rugentta. He could almost hear the warning screams of the world itself—as if the world were pleading with him to stop Mujun, whatever he was doing, as quickly as possible. Not just Rugentta; Nestal opened his eyes, but his gaze was vacant, as if it wasn't his own consciousness controlling his body. His eyes darted around as if seeing something unseen, his face hardening as if trapped in a nightmare.
The sky inside the Birdcage shattered into cracks of light. The Tier 10 magic barrier capable of imprisoning a Demon King cracked simply because the world was raging. Massive mana seeped in through those fissures, seeking to destroy Mujun and the six weapons surrounding him.
But Mujun ignored the rebelling world. "You're too late."
The six weapons moved, each emitting a different color, forming a gargantuan diagram in the air—not a magic circle, but a structure of law that had never existed before.
Nestal's body rose.
Rugentta's body rose.
Mujun's own body rose.
Three beings. Six weapons. One will.
Mana ceased to move. For a moment—the world lost its direction.
Mujun raised his sword toward the punctured blue sky of the dome.
"Tier 10 spells are not the pinnacle of magic," he said softly. "The pinnacle is Law."
His voice echoed across the entire world. Everyone watching through the magic mirrors leaned forward, sensing they were about to witness something never before recorded in history.
"This world is sick. The wars that keep happening seem never-ending. Like a vicious cycle without a finish line, making everyone forget what peace feels like. There has been no change for thousands of years because power only rotates in the hands of those trapped within that circle. Slaves remain slaves. Kings remain kings. I am sick of seeing everyone like rats running on a spinning wheel!"
"The Hero," Mujun continued quietly, "is the reason the world keeps inheriting destruction. The Demon King is the reason the world keeps producing enemies."
"And you two..." his gaze shifted from Nestal to Rugentta, "...are the products of a system that never gave a choice."
"A world that requires both... is a sick world."
With one motion, Mujun plunged his sword into his own chest. Blood sprayed from his mouth. The tip of the blade pierced through his back. But the blood did not fall to the ground—it rose into the air, drenching the five other weapons hovering around him, forming a brilliantly glowing magic circle.
Mujun's body was pulled upward, toward the center of the circle. Nestal and Rugentta's bodies floated toward its outer edges. When the three of them were in their respective positions, the sky inside the Birdcage collapsed into shards of light. Space folded. Time trembled.
Symbols never before seen in this world fell like rain from a heavy storm, drenching reality.
"Using the six sacred weapons as pillars. My body as the catalyst. The Hero and the Demon King as materials... I curse this world!"
"From now on," Mujun declared, his voice echoing beyond the dome, beyond the sky, beyond the continents, "Will no longer chooses representatives."
"No more Heroes."
"No more Demon Kings."
"And no more beings born higher than others."
Light struck Rugentta's body. Not killing. Erasing.
Light struck Nestal's body. Not wounding. Dismantling.
Light struck Mujun's own body. Not destroying. Rewriting.
As his body slowly crumbled like sand blown by the wind, his voice was still heard by the entire world.
"From now on," he whispered, "every living creature in Crocus has the right to the power of Will."
And the world—did not collapse.
It transformed.