Chapter 68 - Episode 10. The Rebirth War (6)
Chapter 68: Episode 10. The Rebirth War (6)
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The seventh gate of Eight Gates of Hell.
Thousands of Jaehwans filled that seventh gate.
He had expected there might be a gate like this, but there was a vast difference between expecting it and facing it firsthand. Slightly dazed, Jaehwan looked at the “Jaehwans.” Everywhere he looked, there was only himself.
Jaehwan carefully observed the “Jaehwan” standing at the very front. Since he rarely looked in mirrors, even his own appearance felt unfamiliar. Ever since entering the 《Tower of Nightmares》, he had hardly ever seen his face reflected anywhere.
Was that really what I looked like?
Looking closer, each of them wore slightly different clothes and looked a little different. Some Jaehwans appeared to be his age, while others looked younger. There was even a Jaehwan who looked like a teenager, and another wearing a military uniform. Still, every one of them was undeniably Jaehwan.
Among the thousands of “Jaehwans,” the first to speak was the “Jaehwan” who had turned his head first.
“Who are you?”
“Jaehwan” stared directly at Jaehwan as he asked. With an eerie feeling, Jaehwan answered.
“Jaehwan.”
“I see.”
The other “Jaehwan” answered as if he had expected that.
“So am I.”
That set voices flowing from all around them.
“Who are you?”
“Jaehwan.”
“I see.”
“So am I.”
“So am I.”
“So am I too...”
The Jaehwans, all claiming to be Jaehwan, looked at Jaehwan.
Once it had gone all the way around, one of the “Jaehwans” looked at Jaehwan again and spoke.
“Who are you?”
Without a word, Jaehwan drew Dokbul.
* * *
How much time had passed?
Jaehwan felt his mind gradually wearing down.
Dozens of Jaehwans had collapsed behind him.
Jaehwan loosened his wrist and leapt far back, frowning.
What a headache.
「Doubt」 and 「Understanding」 were useless here.
If he used 「Doubt」, they used 「Doubt」 as well. If he used 「Understanding」, they used 「Understanding」 too.
Then again, his opponents had been himself from the start.
What use were Doubt or Understanding against that?
Clang!
At first, he had tried taking the stance for “Hard Stab,” prepared to deal with whatever happened. He could not forget the pressure he felt when the hundreds of Jaehwans at the front had almost simultaneously taken the stance for “Hard Stab.”
He had nearly died.
The pressure was too incredible to dismiss as a simple illusion.
In the end, Jaehwan had to withdraw his Stab. He had no confidence in withstanding hundreds of Hard Stabs. Even Jaehwan, who had remained so calm until now, could not help feeling despair.
The enemies before him were on an entirely different level from any opponent Jaehwan had faced so far.
When the enemy was another person, fighting was simple. When it was not, fighting became complicated.
Jaehwan defeated the Jaehwans before him one by one through contests of pure skill. Fortunately, there was no Jaehwan stronger than him, but dealing with hundreds of Jaehwans who used 「Selflessness」 was far from easy.
Flash!
Jaehwan dodged three incoming Stabs, barely knocked aside more than ten Stabs flying at him from behind, then used Cheongheo’s technique, “Extraordinary Slash,” against the Jaehwan charging at him from the front.
Since every Jaehwan used only Stab, Slash techniques worked more effectively than he had expected.
Yet after this happened several times, the Jaehwans at the front began learning his patterns.
When the wave of the Slash tore through the air, the frontmost Jaehwans leapt back beyond its reach. Another “Jaehwan” took the blow of his Slash instead.
A dark olive military uniform.
His own name was neatly embroidered over its chest, along with three service ribbons stacked in a row.
Among the thousands of Jaehwans were Jaehwans who had lived before entering the 《Tower of Nightmares》.
Some of them came from an innocent world where they knew nothing of status windows or skills.
“Urgh...!”
The “Jaehwan” struck by his Slash and brought down was the Jaehwan from just before he entered the 《Tower of Nightmares》.
The moment “Soldier Jaehwan” fell, the consciousness of the Jaehwan who had cut him became hazy as well.
Memories from when both his body and mind had still been twenty years old.
Jaehwan realized these were memories from right before he entered the 《Tower of Nightmares》.
“Corporal Jaehwan. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry...”
Before him stood a man wearing the insignia of a private first class. The man was crying. Jaehwan barely recognized him as one of his juniors.
Right. There had been a junior like this.
He looked around at the scene.
Soldiers and officers lay on the ground, bleeding from gunshot wounds.
A chill slowly ran down his spine. Jaehwan gradually remembered what this memory was.
“Corporal Jaehwan... I really... I tried so hard. You know that too, don’t you, Corporal Jaehwan...?”
Looking closer, the man held a K2 rifle. Spent shell casings were scattered everywhere.
“Those bastards... Those bastards...”
Jaehwan approached the man. He approached him without knowing what he should do or how he should act.
“Don’t come any closer! I don’t want to kill you, Corporal Jaehwan!”
The man staggered back and aimed the rifle at Jaehwan, then made a strange expression.
“If Corporal Jaehwan had been me...”
The man did not finish his sentence. As if he knew that question no longer meant anything, he pushed the end of the rifle into his mouth.
“Thank you for everythi-”
Dark red blood mixed with brain matter ran from the man’s head. Jaehwan realized the man had not died from Jaehwan’s gun.
A special forces team could be seen coming over the perimeter fence in the distance. A helicopter’s searchlight shone on Jaehwan. Quietly, Jaehwan raised his hands.
The memory ended there.
Amid the dizzying flood of memories, Jaehwan barely came to his senses.
It had happened just before he entered the 《Tower of Nightmares》.
One soldier who had suffered abuse in the military had shot and killed all his seniors and officers in the middle of the night. The media had covered the incident extensively.
Jaehwan had been the only survivor in the squad.
Every officer, from the platoon commander to the battalion commander, had been replaced. Jaehwan faced a court-martial, but the dead private’s diary proved that he had not taken part in the abuse, so he received a measure of leniency. Jaehwan spent fifteen days in the brig.
He had connected to the 《Tower of Nightmares》 right after that.
What had that guy’s name been?
Thoughts like that passed through his mind even in his daze.
I could have saved him.
Maybe that was when he began to hate things called “systems.”
Long before he entered a world of skills and status windows, perhaps he had already lived in a world of systems.
A world where a colossal system oppressed the individual.
Each time a “Jaehwan” fell, the memories that “Jaehwan” had carried seeped directly into Jaehwan.
Most were painful memories.
Memories he had cast away when he entered 「Selflessness」.
“Jaehwan.”
His mother, whose voice had even grown faint.
“Jaehwan, thank you.”
Friends who had liked him.
“Corporal Jaehwan.”
A junior he had met in the military.
“Jaehwan, I’m so glad you were there.”
A Companion who had stayed with him until the end in the Tower.
“Jaehwan. Young Jaehwan. Mr. Jaehwan. Big Brother Jaehwan. Jaehwan...”
All the time he had abandoned.
“Save us.”
Damn it.
Jaehwan muttered as he looked at the thousands of “Jaehwans” still remaining.
Yes. This was a world that truly deserved to be called “hell.”
A world where he had to kill himself to move forward.
With difficulty, Jaehwan swung his sword.
Another Jaehwan fell.
Every time he defeated one Jaehwan, Jaehwan understood himself a little less. Each time he killed another self, the memories flowing into him tormented him.
The memories asked Jaehwan.
“Who are you?”
For the first time, Jaehwan’s sword stopped.
Who am I?
A terrible loneliness suddenly came over him.
“Who are you?”
It was not as though he had never considered that question before. Still, this was the first time he had been forced to confront it so violently.
“Who are you?”
Jaehwan thought the question was cruel.
“Who are you?”
And endlessly sad.
Because it was a question he could not answer.
The question was profound, but the only answer he could give was empty.
I am Jaehwan... I am Jaehwan...
The answer that had lingered on his lips faded inside his mouth.
A question everyone considered at least once. A question everyone failed to answer. A question that always remained only a question. And yet, a question that returned without end.
“I am...”
Jaehwan felt as though he were being dragged into a distant Abyss. His consciousness was sinking inward. Even knowing that once he entered, he would never be able to return, he had no choice but to do so.
The prison called the self.
That prison opened its mouth and welcomed Jaehwan.
* * *
Despite the dream demons’ claim that every individual should be treated as a separate species, there was a reason historians of the 《Great Realm》 grouped them all together as the species called “dream demons.”
It was because of the dream demons’ duality.
They stubbornly rejected being lumped together under the wholesale label of “dream demon,” yet whenever praise was showered upon the dream demon species, they displayed absurd pride in being dream demons.
Sirwen was one such dream demon.
“The originators of every skill are dream demons.”
Most skills that existed in the world had been created by dream demons. They were the species that stood at the beginning of all skills.
That was why even the same skill existed on a different level when used by a dream demon.
The moment Jaehwan entered the seventh gate, Sirwen had already been certain of victory.
The version of Eight Gates of Hell she had used was infamous even among dream demons.
It was a legendary skill left behind by one of the thirteen 「Masters」, who was also her godfather.
“What is the most terrible hell in the world?”
This skill was the perfect answer to that question.
The higher the caster’s mental energy, the more overwhelming its power became. It dug into the weakest part of its target’s mind. Once again, she was reminded of how great, and at the same time terrifying, her godfather was.
A hell that could only have been created by someone who had thoroughly contemplated the nature of existence.
“The most terrible hell is oneself.”
No one understood that fact better than dream demons who had gone through a Suicide Period. The reason beings who had lived for countless years took their own lives in the end was that they could no longer bear their swollen sense of self.
Holding Jaehwan tightly in her arms, his eyes empty, Sirwen thought,
Don’t worry. I’ll only break you enough that you won’t die.
Those who, like Awakened Ones, forgot their first selves through 「Selflessness」 and were reborn as new beings were even more vulnerable to Eight Gates of Hell. Their forgotten selves returned.
Sirwen had used this technique to subdue early-stage Awakened Ones several times before.
Something ran down from her nose in the next moment.
“Huh?”
The liquid flowing from Sirwen’s nose passed over her philtrum and dripped onto Jaehwan’s shoulder. Silver particles scattered from the corner of her lips.
“...W-what is this?”
A nosebleed?
That could not be right.
A nosebleed while using an illusion-type skill meant the caster’s mental energy was reaching its limit.
That’s impossible. I’m reaching my limit?
Normally, mental energy was proportional to the years a caster had lived. The stronger a dream demon’s mental energy, the more powerful the Eight Gates of Hell they could use.
But illusion-type skills had one weakness.
Rebound.
If the target’s mental energy exceeded the caster’s, the illusion’s mental damage would return to the caster in full.
That can’t be. I’ve lived for over two thousand years!
The amount of silver liquid running over her philtrum was increasing. The world spun, and dizziness swept over her. Sirwen focused her mind.
What in the world was happening inside for her to end up like this?
The instant she looked into Eight Gates of Hell, every hair on her body stood on end.
Thousands of selves were fighting a single self.
Thousands of selves?
It was unbelievable.
The number of selves seen in the seventh gate was proportional to the years the target had lived. Someone who had lived fifty years faced roughly one hundred selves. Someone who had lived a hundred years faced roughly two hundred selves.
But thousands?
Just how many years has he lived?
Sirwen felt her consciousness gradually fading. At this rate, she would be the one to collapse first.
Eight Gates of Hell changed in the next moment.
Something had begun happening to the seventh gate, which had remained perfectly intact until now.
This was not a matter of mental energy.
A chilling sensation ran down her spine.
No... How could this possibly...!
A rumbling sound came from somewhere.
Her seventh gate was collapsing.
Footnotes:
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