Chapter 790 : Hypnosis

Southern Continent, Bainlair.

Late at night in the outskirts of Whitelinburg, capital of Bainlair, the roar of the earth echoed across the sky. Amid violent tremors, the once-solid ground cracked apart. Massive rocky spines and earthen spears burst through the surface, stabbing skyward and shredding the clawed, grotesque Anecdotal Bodies to pieces—startling Hafdar with a rare look of shock.

“What…”

Before Hafdar could even voice his surprise, a far more powerful tremor rumbled from beneath him. A massive serpent made purely of rock and earth erupted from the ground, soaring into the sky and lunging at Hafdar with its mouth wide open. Caught off guard, Hafdar was swallowed whole.

But just moments later, the giant rock serpent’s head exploded. From the cloud of dust that followed, an enormous burrowing worm emerged—and from its mouth, Hafdar escaped.

“Geomancer…”

Staring at the scene, Hafdar’s expression darkened. Just then, the rock serpent flicked its head, hurling Hafdar from its snout. It lunged at him again, maw agape. Hafdar swung his arm with a roar, conjuring a colossal red dragon with outstretched wings. The dragon caught him on its back, then immediately opened its jaws and launched a huge fireball at the incoming serpent.

“Ancient Anecdote…”

BOOM!!

The red dragon manifested by Hafdar stretched nearly 70 to 80 meters long—far larger than any Anecdotal Body he had ever created. The fireball it unleashed matched its size and power, detonating against the rock serpent in a thunderous explosion, blasting it apart.

But it wasn’t over.

The earth’s tremors didn’t cease with the serpent’s destruction. With one booming quake after another, more rock serpents erupted from the ground—larger, more fearsome than before. Massive horns jutted from their heads—they had transformed into Earth Dragon Heads.

The Earth Dragons opened their jaws, biting ferociously toward the red dragon Hafdar rode. Hafdar fought back, hurling fireballs in rapid succession, blasting one dragon after another apart. Occasionally, some dragons abruptly turned and attacked their own kind. This was Dark Coin Noble’s influence—he was actively purchasing powerful skills to force the dragons into betrayal.

Even so, Hafdar failed to gain any significant advantage. The battlefield of rubble and stone acted like fertile ground—new Earth Dragon Heads continuously emerged to replace the destroyed. The defectors, once they turned, were immediately torn apart by the others—unable to shift the tide.

It was then that Hafdar realized: if this continued, he’d be worn down. Fighting these spiritual projections was pointless—he had to find and eliminate the true body of his opponent.

With that thought, Hafdar conjured dozens of burrowing worms in midair, sending them crashing into the ground to tunnel rapidly below, attempting to flush out the master of these earth dragons.

But not long after drilling in, the worms were crushed to dust—annihilated by the overwhelming pressure of the surrounding rock from all directions.

“Such overwhelming control over the earth’s strata… they’re not just hiding in the earth… they’ve become the earth itself?”

“This is no ordinary Geomancer… this is a master of elemental earth—a supreme elementalist!”

Realizing the fate of his worms, Hafdar finally understood the truth of his foe. And with that truth came clarity: even with Dark Coin Noble’s assistance, this was not an enemy he could overcome easily.

Changing tactics, Hafdar turned his gaze toward Dorothy, who hovered midair some distance away.

He immediately activated his powers, conjuring a new story world—dragging Dorothy into it and deliberately excluding the powerful Geomancer from its bounds.

Suddenly, Dorothy’s surroundings shifted dramatically. The moonlight above vanished, and the raging earth dragons disappeared. She now stood in a vast underground space.

Massive stone columns nearly a hundred meters tall supported an ancient subterranean palace. Rows of pillars stretched into darkness, lit only by the faint flicker of eternal lamps casting a dim glow.

At the center, the layout of the columns changed, forming a vast circular plaza. There stood four enormous stone coffins, arranged in a ring. As Dorothy entered, the engraved lids tilted forward and crashed to the ground, shattering with a deafening boom—and from within, giants slowly stepped forth.

They were nearly seventy meters tall—desiccated like mummies, clad in broken, ancient armor. Their helmets glowed faintly, and they carried colossal broken blades and axes. With heavy steps, they emerged and fixed their glowing gazes on Dorothy.

All across the floor of the tomb, countless more giant corpses—some ten meters, some twenty—also began to rise. They howled toward Dorothy in the air, raising fractured weapons and preparing to hurl them.

“Ancient Anecdote… Tomb of the Giants…”

Hafdar had conjured a legendary tale—summoning death giants from ancient myth. He commanded them to leave their sarcophagi and wield their decaying weapons with overwhelming might to attack Dorothy.

This was his plan: isolate Dorothy in a separate story world, remove the Geomancer’s influence, take her down, seize the divinity of Heaven’s Arbiter—then deal with the rest later.

But as the death giants approached, Dorothy barely reacted. She did not rush to unleash her power. She knew that if she acted recklessly, Dark Coin Noble might forcibly rent her abilities again—complicating everything.

Rumble…

As expected, the entire story world of the Tomb of the Giants began to shake violently—just like the Night Demon’s domain in Tivian. Only this time, the tremors were even stronger.

Dimensional Shocks. Even more intense than those released by Alberto, they ravaged the space of the tomb. In an instant, the smaller giants collapsed, towering pillars crumbled, and the tomb split open with massive fractures. From these cracks, hordes of Earth Dragon Heads howled and burst forth, lunging toward the four largest death giants.

The giants raised their massive weapons, smashing the dragons apart—but more kept coming, erupting from the ever-growing fissures in endless waves.

What Hafdar had hoped would defeat Dorothy now found itself busy fighting dragons.

His story world—intended to isolate Dorothy—was being ripped apart by dimensional shockwaves stronger than Alberto’s. He could no longer maintain his world intact. He couldn’t isolate the White Craftsmen’s Guild Gold-rank operative from reaching Dorothy.

Confronting a master of earth like this was taxing. And it wasn’t just the enemy’s strength—Hafdar also felt it because Dark Coin Noble’s support had dwindled to almost nothing.

Dark Coin Noble was clearly facing a dire situation of his own—he had no time left to help Hafdar.

“Looks like… things are going well on that end, too…”

Seeing all this, Dorothy smiled.

…

Whitelinburg outskirts, around Otto’s secret manor.

Within the shadowed woods, deadly flashes of blades and steel danced across the space in an instant. The impostors disguised as Court agents were torn to shreds in a blink by the Cardinal's swift blade. Only Dark Coin Noble himself remained, facing the shadow clones attacking from all directions, his expression a mix of shock and fury.

“Useless corpse! Worthless plan!”

While cursing Hafdar’s failed scheme yet again, Dark Coin Noble stretched out his hand and activated his divine power, forcibly purchasing all the attacking shadow clones. The girl-shaped shadows collapsed into wisps of darkness, which then converged into a small black cube in his hand. Only a single shadow remained—that of Artcheli’s true body!

Dark Coin Noble immediately released his newly acquired power: the shadows from the cube flowed back out, becoming his own shadow, and then transformed into several shadow clones. These quickly armed themselves with various weapons and launched an assault against Artcheli’s shadow.

But as Dark Coin Noble’s clones reached their target, Artcheli’s true form leapt out of her shadow. With a swift motion, she pulled her shadow off the ground and wielded it as a pitch-black shadow saber.

Having turned her shadow into a weapon, Artcheli became “shadowless.” This rendered all the clones’ attacks meaningless—they had no shadow to strike. In a spinning arc mid-air, she shattered every one of Dark Coin Noble’s shadow clones.

Then, with a focused glare, Artcheli gripped her shadow-saber tightly and rushed toward Dark Coin Noble. Seeing this, Dark Coin Noble tried to forcibly purchase the saber—but failed.

This weapon was not merely a projection of Artcheli’s ability—it was her own shadow, a part of herself. While Dark Coin Noble could easily buy abilities she cast outward, he couldn’t buy something directly bound to her essence. Purchasing the shadow-saber would be equivalent to buying Artcheli herself—a Gold-rank powerhouse. That was beyond his reach.

Realizing he couldn’t disarm her by purchase, Dark Coin Noble switched tactics. He opened a pale blue box, and from it emerged a freezing beast head of solid ice. It enveloped him in protection and spewed a wide-range blizzard toward Artcheli in an attempt to freeze her solid.

While Artcheli’s combat style let her avoid losing powers to forced acquisition, it also limited her offense. She was like a high-speed assassin with a specialized blade—effective but vulnerable to sustained encounters. Even without using his purchase abilities, Dark Coin Noble could still handle her.

Just then, from the dark sky above, a fiery orange-red beam crashed down, piercing the ice beast’s head and detonating on impact. The ground trembled violently as a fountain of molten lava erupted from beneath!

“What…!?”

Blasted into the air at close range, Dark Coin Noble flew skyward. The searing heat and shockwave were tremendous but couldn’t tear through his hardened form. But in the very next moment, Artcheli’s shadowy figure flickered before his eyes—and before he could react, the shadow saber had cleaved his body into nearly a thousand pieces.

Yet, as the fragmented pieces fell, they melted like molten metal under the intense heat, then swiftly coalesced into a single molten mass. By the time it hit the ground, it had already re-formed into a humanoid shape.

Dark Coin Noble’s figure once again stood on solid earth—but his face was twisted with rage.

“Reforge through remelt… a convenient ability for those whose lifeform has become pure gold… but I doubt this is from the Gargoyle Path. How much more of it do you have left?”

Suddenly, a loud male voice echoed across the battlefield. Hearing it, Dark Coin Noble froze and turned sharply toward the source.

There, at the site where he had summoned the ice beast, the earth cracked open with lava, and a massive twenty-meter-long polearm had embedded itself into the molten pit. Glowing red-hot from the heat, the weapon was covered in intricate engravings and adorned with dazzling gemstones from tip to shaft.

It was absurdly over-ornamented—engraved with countless delicate runes, reliefs, and sculptures. Jewels glittered from every surface. It looked less like a weapon and more like a divine art piece.

Standing atop this lavish halberd was a man—stocky and short, clad in brilliant, gleaming armor with a matching helmet. Though not old, he sported a well-groomed, decorated beard, and his small eyes sparkled with intelligent light.

This was clearly the owner of the weapon—the one responsible for the earlier ambush.

“Yellowstone… Dorn…”

Dark Coin Noble gritted his teeth. The man, whom he called Dorn, stroked his beard and answered slowly.

“Dark Coin Noble Franco… Long time no see. We’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.”

Elsewhere, Artcheli landed softly with her shadow saber in hand, fixing her eyes on Dark Coin Noble and speaking gravely.

“You survived again with that ability… What exactly is it?”

“That’s Reforge through Remelt, Cardinal,” Dorn answered grimly.

“That bastard once stole it from us through disgraceful means. It’s troublesome, yes—but don’t worry. The number of non-native powers in his possession is limited. Just keep destroying him.”

As one of the Golden Triad of the White Craftsmen’s Guild, Dorn explained solemnly. Dark Coin Noble’s narrowed eyes gleamed dangerously.

“Destroy me…? Hmph, you won’t get the chance!”

With a wave, three different ability boxes appeared before him and opened.

From a sky-blue box, torrents of water poured forth, forming a colossal water serpent.

From a dark red box, thick blood mist seeped out and wrapped around Dark Coin Noble—forming blood armor and a crimson spear.

From a black-green box, fine black threads emerged and wrapped around his left hand, staining it black.

He launched a counterattack.

The water serpent lunged at Artcheli. She sliced it into pieces with her shadow-saber—but, being made of water, it quickly reassembled, coiling to entrap her. She flashed away, but without externalizing too much power, she found herself pressed.

Using the serpent to pin Artcheli down, Dark Coin Noble flew toward Dorn with dark wings sprouting from his back.

Mid-charge, he hurled his crimson spear. As it flew, it split—one became two, two became four, four became eight—until countless blood-spears filled the sky and rained toward Dorn.

Dorn calmly rose into the air, then raised his hand.

With a boom, the ornate halberd beneath him rose from the lava and swept through the storm of blood-spears with blistering heat—seemingly able to clear them all in a single swing.

But Dark Coin Noble seized the moment—he activated his divine power: forced acquisition.

He targeted Dorn’s magnificent halberd. Instantly, the weapon vanished mid-air, transforming into streams of orange-red light and coalescing into another ability box before Dark Coin Noble.

Acquisition successful!

And yet… Dark Coin Noble’s expression remained grim. There was no triumph—only something ominous in his eyes, as if he sensed something was wrong. But he didn’t act immediately—still mid-combat, he turned back toward Dorn.

That’s when it happened.

The newly acquired orange box suddenly began to tremble violently. Before Dark Coin Noble could react, it emitted a blinding light, then rapidly expanded—

BOOM!!

A massive explosion ripped through the night sky.

The blinding fireball swelled rapidly like a second sun, lighting up the heavens. The shockwave gouged a crater in the earth below, toppling trees. Even the myriad blood-spears that Dark Coin Noble had thrown were vaporized in an instant.

When the light faded and the boom subsided, and darkness returned, Dark Coin Noble’s battered form was seen hovering above the devastated battlefield.

His blood armor was gone. His clothing was in tatters. A gaping hole had been blasted through his chest and left shoulder—molten gold around the wound still wriggling as it tried to heal.

Golden hair disheveled, face twisted with rage, Dark Coin Noble glared up at Dorn—who casually stroked his beard, gazing down with a calm smile.

“Well? Enjoying the product I sold you, Franco? Especially the price and power… That piece was a treasure of the Furnace Realm, possibly even related to the ‘Radiant Core.’”

“You… You dared to trick me?!”

Furious, Dark Coin Noble snarled through gritted teeth.

Now he understood—the White Craftsmen’s Guild had come fully prepared.

And they were targeting him specifically.

Dorn was a forging artisan—one of the finest craftsmen in the world beneath the gods. That massive halberd just now was one of his own creations.

First of all, that weapon was something Dorn had poured an immense amount of time and energy into. In the material world alone, he spent a hundred years forging it. Then, in the slow-flowing time of the inner realm, he spent several hundred more. Altogether, centuries of labor were invested into meticulously refining every detail of that halberd.

To complete the weapon, Dorn scoured the inner realms for the most beautiful and precious gems to embed in it. He referenced the artistic aesthetics of the old Goddess of Beauty’s faith when carving its motifs. He even invited the help of divine beings for some stages of its construction, making the weapon one of unparalleled luxury and rarity in the world…

Yes—luxury and rarity—but not necessarily power or practicality.

Dorn spent centuries of work and countless resources crafting a halberd with extravagant artistic and collectible value. While its power as a mystical artifact wasn’t weak, it was far inferior to its monetary and symbolic worth.

In simple terms, Dorn’s halberd was ridiculously expensive—but expensive because of its artistic and collectible value, not because of practical combat utility. It was like a priceless artwork bought at a billionaire’s auction—costly, but no one expects it to function as a weapon.

But for Dorn, cost equals function.

Yes—Dorn’s halberd was so absurdly expensive that even Dark Coin Noble winced after forcibly purchasing it. Worse, not only did the halberd’s abilities not match its price, but it actually backfired on him.

Why? Because when Dorn imbued it with mystical power, he intentionally designed it to be unstable—in other words, the halberd’s power source wasn’t Dorn himself or even the weapon, but rather a legendary energy source from the Furnace Realm known as the Radiant Core, said to have been created by the God of Forge.

For most mystical abilities, the source of spirituality is the caster. After Dark Coin Noble forcefully acquires such powers, he becomes the source. Since he can melt down treasures to generate spirituality, this isn’t usually a problem. Additionally, powers stored in boxes already contain their own spirituality.

But Dorn’s weapon was different—its power source was external, the Furnace Realm, and it was specifically designed to only accept power from there. Once ownership was transferred, the weapon could no longer receive energy. Dark Coin Noble had no way to power it.

Without sustained energy input, the halberd triggered its final mechanism: self-destruction. The stored energy was released—not haphazardly, but in a focused blast aimed directly at a target. While the explosion might have seemed modest, it was more than enough to punch a hole straight through Dark Coin Noble’s body.

“I’ll make you… pay…”

Grinding his teeth, Dark Coin Noble relied on his regenerative ability to rapidly recover from his injuries. But just as he prepared to counterattack Dorn again, he saw over a dozen ornate weapons floating beside Dorn.

Intricate artistic engravings. An abundance of embedded gemstones. These sword- and blade-shaped weapons, though smaller than the halberd—only a few meters long—were clearly more “custom-made merchandise” from Dorn. Seeing them, Dark Coin Noble’s face turned grim.

With a wave, Dorn launched the glittering weapons at high speed. Dark Coin Noble responded by extending his pitch-black left hand and casting a curse using only line-of-sight as a medium, forcing the incoming weapons to veer off. But the weapons curved midair and resumed their pursuit, forcing Dark Coin Noble to evade again.

Faced with these tailor-made “products,” Dark Coin Noble was temporarily at a loss. On one hand, each of them was absurdly expensive—every time he forcibly acquired one, it put enormous strain on his already depleted treasury. Worse, once acquired, they were unusable and prone to explode.

On the other hand, the weapons were still powerful enough that he couldn’t simply ignore them.

To prevent Dark Coin Noble from acquiring them, Dorn refrained from using any personal abilities—he simply directed his arsenal of “merchandise blades” to harass and attack. This was a long-prepared counter-strategy by the White Craftsmen’s Guild—specifically crafted for Dark Coin Noble. It disgusted him.

Thankfully for Dark Coin Noble, disgusting didn’t mean unbeatable…

Seizing an opportunity, Dark Coin Noble opened a power box and released an extremely cold blizzard, freezing most of the merchandise weapons.

Just as he moved in to destroy the frozen blades, he felt a cold presence at his back—then his body was once again sliced into fragments.

A flicker of shadow—and there was Artcheli, expression cold, shadow saber in hand.

Having finally dealt with the water serpent, she returned to the battlefield.

Meanwhile, the frozen merchandise weapons reignited from internal heat, melting off the frost and resuming their assault, forcing the still-reforming Dark Coin Noble to once again hastily defend himself.

What followed was Dark Coin Noble fighting both Dorn and Artcheli at once. Dorn’s merchandise weapons and Artcheli’s shadow saber were both immune to forced acquisition, leaving Dark Coin Noble to rely solely on his own power and stored abilities.

Fighting one opponent was manageable. Two was clearly too much.

He unleashed waves of ice, flame, curses, blood mist—varied abilities in succession. But Dorn’s weapons blocked most of them, leaving Artcheli free to press the attack. Her shadow saber struck from every angle—breaking through defenses, slicing his form apart, forcing him to burn through his limited abilities stock again and again.

Dorn could only deal significant damage through his twenty-meter-grade self-destruct weapons. The smaller ones lacked that punch. Knowing this, he focused on supporting Artcheli, whose saber was capable of penetrating Dark Coin Noble’s defense with every strike—relentlessly shredding his body.

Dark Coin Noble’s only viable defense against her was a divine armament—a legendary bell—but he had already used it back in Tivian to save himself. He no longer had a way to stop her.

When facing Anna and Artcheli in the past, Dark Coin Noble had remained relaxed—controlling the fight with ease. But now, facing prepared countermeasures from Dorn and Artcheli, he was being completely overrun.

As the battle dragged on, Dark Coin Noble realized he was losing.

At this rate, he would be exhausted to death.

According to the original plan, this was supposed to be the moment when a reversal would occur—but that reversal had yet to show. Growing desperate, Dark Coin Noble cursed furiously in his mind.

“Even that plan’s been exposed?! Useless corpse! And you dare call yourself a Sage King? More like a Fool King!”

The reversal he was hoping for… was tied to a ritual prepared by Hafdar—the Armoring Rite.

Originally, Dark Coin Noble and Hafdar had expected that Regent Otto would undergo the ritual at a crucial moment, transforming from acting regent into the official king of Bainlair, and offering the nation to Dark Coin Noble as a bargaining chip.

But because Otto was so conspicuous and prone to mishaps, they had prepared a fallback—Prince Sigmund. If Otto failed to complete the ritual, Hafdar would manipulate things so Sigmund would kill Otto, fulfilling the myth of the Masked Prince and becoming king in his place.

Previously, Deer Skull, disguised as Rudolf, had already signed a contract with Sigmund. On the surface, it appeared to offer the White Craftsmen's Guild a favorable deal—but the contract was laced with concealed clauses. Once Sigmund ascended, Dark Coin Noble would have the means to make him surrender the country.

With the whole of Bainlair in his grasp, Dark Coin Noble had countless ways to solve his current predicament.

But now?

The ritual hadn’t even started—and Dark Coin Noble realized Hafdar’s setup had failed.

Dorothy had long anticipated the Armoring Rite due to her prior conversation with Setut, and she made preparations accordingly. Otto had already been sealed by reinforcements from the White Craftsmen’s Guild and was now incapacitated.

So was Sigmund. Once Dorothy understood the Masked Prince’s legend, she recognized his potential as an alternate ritual node. And given his closeness to “Rudolf,” she had the guild seize him too.

With both key players neutralized, the Armoring Rite—their hidden card—remained inert.

Trapped and beaten, Dark Coin Noble felt darkness creeping over him. He had only a few defenses left. Worse, the escape card he used in Tivian was gone. Now, even fleeing would be hard.

In that despair, a trace of madness gleamed in his eyes.

At that moment, Dark Coin Noble made the decision—

—to use his final trump card.

Beneath the dark sky, after once again barely repelling Dorn and Artcheli, he summoned a new ability box.

This one was a deep violet-black.

Gazing at the ominous box floating before him, Dark Coin Noble fell into a recent memory…

It was not long after he and Hafdar had fled defeat in Tivian.

…

“So this is your so-called flawless plan? And this—this disaster is how it turned out?! Your so-called wit and power are leagues below what you boasted!”

In a luxurious residence resembling a royal palace, beneath the hazy reflection of sunlight beyond the window, Dark Coin Noble spoke in a furious tone, lashing out at Hafdar, who sat calmly across from him. Hafdar answered in a composed voice.

“I admit I underestimated her… I didn’t expect she could draw upon such a powerful dark-night divinity. So the speculations about her divine lineage… turned out to be true.”

As he spoke, Hafdar turned to look at Dark Coin Noble, then narrowed his eyes and continued.

“Underestimation is one issue. The second is that I may have slightly overestimated your ability to control the divinity of Commercial Gold. It’s not quite as stable as you claimed…

“For someone who possesses such a quantity of divinity, why do you wield it so hesitantly? In theory, you could reach the level of an Apostle—or even beyond—not remain stuck at the rank of a mere Blessed.”

Hafdar asked curiously. His tone toward Dark Coin Noble was far calmer than it had been during the emergency in Tivian. His demeanor had shifted drastically—he now even addressed Dark Coin Noble with cautious respect, fully aware that this man held divinity.

“Hmph, are you mocking me? You old fossil, you know the reason better than anyone…”

Dark Coin Noble growled.

“The Dark Gold fall was far from clean. The flesh perished, but the divinity remained fractured and tainted. If I absorb it all, I’ll go insane from the residual influences… I’ve no desire to become a mad demigod.”

“If you’re not a natural-born divine heir… then your capacity to contain and adapt to divinity will always be limited. For someone who hasn’t reached the Apostle rank, trying to wield so much divinity purely by willpower is indeed difficult.”

Hafdar nodded slightly, then chuckled.

“Heh… So you don’t want to become a vessel for the rebirth of the God of Commerce. What you truly desire… is to ascend the divine throne by your own will. But the way things are now, I doubt the world will let you slowly plan your path to godhood anymore…

“After all, the God of Forge has already made their move. I believe you should prepare for the worst.”

Hafdar’s words were calm but firm. Dark Coin Noble’s eyes narrowed sharply as he stared at Hafdar.

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

“What I mean is: if we face another desperate situation, absorbing more of the Commercial Gold divinity might be our—your—only option. But to avoid losing your mind when that moment comes, we may be able to make preparations in advance…”

Hafdar’s tone remained composed. Dark Coin Noble responded with a low voice.

“You’re saying… you have a way to suppress the lingering corruption of Dark Gold?”

“No way to purge it… only to suppress it. You know my abilities. If you fully accept my intervention, I can use my complete hypnosis techniques to strengthen your will and sense of self, allowing you to resist more of the divinity’s influence—at least long enough to get you through a critical moment.”

Hafdar narrowed his eyes as he laid out the idea. Dark Coin Noble paused—then sneered and shook his head.

“Heh? You want me to drop my defenses and fully accept your hypnosis? That’s delusional… You think I’d actually do that?”

Indeed, if Dark Coin Noble lowered his defenses, Hafdar could instantly hypnotize and profile him into a servant. That was utterly unacceptable. Hafdar seemed to know this as well, so he continued.

“I understand—you don’t trust me completely, nor would you ever drop your mental guard. But we can work around that. There is another method—one that would let you safely accept my ability.”

“Another method? Interesting… Let’s hear it,” Dark Coin Noble said with intrigue.

“I can use my profiling hypnosis on someone else—strengthening their self-awareness only—and you can purchase that ability and store it. Then, in a critical moment, you can use that ability on yourself, hypnotizing yourself to reinforce your will and contain more divinity.”

Hafdar laid out the plan slowly. Hearing it, Dark Coin Noble paused, then after a moment of thought, replied.

“It’s a feasible method… But I can’t be sure you didn’t embed something else into the hypnosis. If you slipped even a hint of hidden suggestion…”

Dark Coin Noble’s voice was wary. Hafdar calmly responded.

“Then verify it yourself before buying. Test the target thoroughly—see if any hidden influence remains. If there is—don’t buy it.”

Hafdar spoke confidently. Dark Coin Noble thought in silence for a moment… then nodded.

…

Back to the present.

In the fierce battle against Dorn and Artcheli, Dark Coin Noble manifested a violet-black ability box. It was clear what it contained—Hafdar’s powerful hypnotic profiling ability.

This box’s hypnosis effect contained only one function: to maximize the subject’s self-awareness, allowing them to resist external mental interference with immense tenacity.

Dark Coin Noble had rigorously verified the contents. After selecting a subject and having Hafdar hypnotize them, he subjected the person to a battery of tests—questions, conversations, stimuli—all designed to check for any mental alterations beyond self-strengthening, especially any loyalty triggers to Hafdar.

The subject was one of Dark Coin Noble’s most loyal confidants, and despite every test, he showed no issues. No hidden triggers, no subtle brainwashing—only enhanced self-awareness.

To rule out the possibility that Hafdar had turned the subject into a puppet secretly manipulating the responses, Dark Coin Noble even had him detained in a treasure vault sealed against all external powers, yet still found no signs of tampering.

Convinced, he purchased the hypnotic ability and stored it in a box—for emergencies.

He just didn’t expect the emergency to arrive so soon.

Staring at the violet-black box now, Dark Coin Noble still felt apprehensive. After all, using it would require lowering all mental defenses and accepting hypnosis. It was a gamble.

But the current situation left him no choice. He needed powerful willpower—now—if he wanted to control more divinity and turn the battle around.

“I’ve run every test… it should be safe…”

With that final thought, Dark Coin Noble used another defensive box to buy time, repelled Dorn and Artcheli once more, and opened the violet-black box—activating the hypnosis upon himself.

During the process, he pulled out a delicate hand mirror from his spatial storage and stared into it to observe the hypnotic effects.

Then… something strange happened.

After just two seconds, the reflection in the mirror—originally his own face—transformed inexplicably into that of a stern, elderly man with narrowed eyes.

The old man smiled gently as he stared back. Cold sweat poured down Dark Coin Noble’s back.

“Haf—”

Just as the word left his lips, his mouth snapped shut, and a twisted, unnatural smile curled at the corners of his lips.

At the same time, that same smile appeared on Hafdar’s lips—within the story world, in the midst of battle.