Chapter 785: Departure

“It’s over...”

Someone’s murmur echoed through the vast, silent space. Only then did Muen snap back to himself from the vanishing sea of starlight, and he sighed as well:

“Yeah. It’s over.”

Another long affair. Another tense, twisting ordeal—demonfolk, thrones, pursuit and counter-pursuit, a noble suicide, the remnants of a Demon God... all of it layered atop the life-and-death dangers they’d just endured. It felt so vivid it had been carved into his bones, something he would never forget no matter how many years passed.

And yet after several million souls dispersed... all that remained was a faint, drifting sigh.

“By the way... where do all these souls go?”

With the throne shattered and the relic destroyed, Muen gazed at the empty surroundings and couldn’t help asking.

After all, several million demonfolk souls—far more than the million he’d burned in the Lost Land before. They’d turned into distant sparks of starlight and scattered away. The sight was deeply, almost overwhelmingly, moving.

“Who knows? Probably back into the world,” Mela said.

“Back into the world?”

Muen thought for a moment. “Reincarnation?”

“Similar. But that wording isn’t precise.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever heard any stories about some top-tier powerhouse reincarnating and starting over?”

“...Huh.”

Muen froze. It was true—after so long in this world, he’d heard all kinds of strange adventure tales. Heroes and Demon Kings with tangled relationships. Heroes and princes with tangled relationships. Princes and Demon Kings with tangled relationships... But he’d never once heard of some supreme expert reincarnating to cultivate again.

“Because strictly speaking, this world has no true reincarnation,” Mela said. “Once any soul returns to the world, it’s completely broken down and recombined into a new soul. That’s one of the most fundamental rules of this world—the very basis that keeps it running. The Myriad-Age Cycle was nothing more than a crude imitation of it.”

Her tone turned teasing.

“So whether it was those Origin-Rank archmages a thousand years ago, or the overconfident fools of today, what they pursue is only true immortality. No one gambles hope on so-called reincarnation. Because once you enter reincarnation... you’re no longer you.”

“...Is that so?”

A strange thought stirred in Muen’s chest. He thought of himself. So he didn’t really count as reincarnated either—just a soul from another world that had happened to cross over into this body.

And Ariel’s teacher—the hidden powerhouse reduced to a soul—still clung to existence by every possible method. Perhaps for the same reason: unwilling to face the fact that she would completely vanish.

“So in the end... only in death is this world absolutely equal...”

“Well... not entirely,” Mela added.

“Hm?”

“This world runs on absolute rules, yes—but it’s not as cold as you imagine. These several million souls returning also counts as a kind of restoration. It lets this broken world catch its breath. So afterward, in some respects, it might still grant certain people... gifts that lie within the rules, yet beyond expectation.”

“Gifts?” Muen blinked in confusion.

“Who knows?” Mela smiled. “Even I can’t guess the will of the world. Besides, the world rather dislikes me.”

“...Teacher Mela, why are you acting like a riddle-speaker again? Is this another taboo or something?”

Muen ground his teeth and turned around. Just thinking about this ancient faux-loli constantly speaking in half-sentences made him want to grab her cheeks and pinch them swollen.

But the moment he turned, he froze.

Huh?

Wait.

Where was the proud little ancient woman from his memory?

The white-haired, red-eyed, thousand-year-old loli who loved pink strawberry pajamas and strawberry lollipops—usually arrogant as anything yet forever pretending to be cute?

Why was there now only...

“...a head?”

Muen rubbed his eyes, thinking he’d misseen.

“What’s going on? Teacher Mela, have you gone into power-saving mode this far?”

“What power-saving...”

Mela’s head on the ground wobbled. The moment she saw Muen turn toward her, she immediately put on a pitiful act and sobbed:

“Isn’t it because some unfilial disciple arrived so late that his adorable, beautiful-girl teacher was cruelly mutilated by villains and reduced to this pathetic state? And now he’s even being disrespectful to his teacher...”

“Stop. Enough!”

Muen cut her off directly, sneering.

“The one who should be crying is your pitiful disciple—me. You were clearly here already, yet you ignored your handsome, charming disciple and let him plunge into mortal danger. If nothing else, my life happens to be stubbornly resilient—otherwise I’d probably be dead without even a corpse left to find.”

“Oh my, oh my...”

Mela’s gaze drifted. “How can you say that? This was training for the disciple I value most. It’s all overflowing with your teacher’s love!”

“Training? I’d love to let my dear teacher experience a bit of training herself!”

“Wait!”

Mela’s little head shot into the air, dodging Muen’s pouncing grab. “I know my dear disciple has been starving after being separated from his teacher so long, but you should have something more important to do, shouldn’t you?”

“...”

Muen drew a slow breath and lowered his hands.

Forget it. Even if this old faux-loli was just a head right now and looked miserable, if he seriously pushed it, he definitely wouldn’t come out ahead.

Who knew what tricks she still had hidden? He had no desire to end up with his own head flying around too.

This wasn’t the moment to squeeze loot out of the old monster.

And she was right—he did have something more important to do.

Thinking that, Muen wasted no more time. He straightened, spread his arms, and with a gentle smile looked toward the other side.

There, a figure had long been poised to leap into his embrace.

“I’ve come to take you home, An.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

A familiar fragrance rushed toward him. An flashed forward in an instant, appearing before him. Her composed, lovely face was flushed with irrepressible excitement. She threw herself at him with such force he could even hear the air tearing.

“Ghk—my back...”

“Are you hurt, Young Master?”

“I’m fine.”

Muen lowered his head and softly kissed the girl in his arms on the forehead.

“It feels just the same.”

“Young Master...”

An greedily inhaled his scent. She’d gone too long without drawing in her master’s energy, and now her senses were fully open. If the situation were different, she’d already be pushing her beloved master down for a passionate release.

Muen, too, cherished the girl in his arms. The joy and relief of knowing the one he loved was still safe and sound gave him the courage to face any disaster in this world.

“Young Master...”

“An...”

Hearing the shy murmur of the little maid in {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} his arms, Muen couldn’t help holding her tighter.

Surely An would like this closeness as well—

“Young Master... your chest is very big.”

An hesitated. “It’s pressing me a little.”

“...?”

Muen froze.

Slowly, he lowered his head. His gaze slid downward. After passing An’s faintly flushed face, sure enough, what he saw was not his proud pectorals...

...but the two long-forgotten mounds of... magic rubber.

Soft. Springy. Perfectly shaped. Even comparable in size to An’s own...

rounded magic rubber.

Oh no.

Muen’s mind went blank.

The disasters he’d meant... definitely hadn’t included this kind of social death...

“Damn it, I forgot to drink the antidote! An, wait—we’ll redo this in a moment!”

Overcome with tragic fury, Muen fumbled out the antidote he’d repeatedly failed to drink before.

“An, believe me—I wasn’t deliberately keeping this form! This was all an accident!”

“It’s fine. If it’s you, Young Master, I can accept having this sort of preference.” An wore a determined expression.

“But I can’t accept it!!!”

Under Mela’s teasing gaze from the side, Muen bitterly cursed the fact that he still hadn’t fully mastered the Eternal Clock. If he had, he could rewind time and erase this mood-destroying black history completely.

...

...

“Damn it...”

Elsewhere, Ariel silently watched the scene of master and servant embracing in celebration. A strange surge of bitterness rose in her chest.

And jealousy.

“Damn that Muen Campbell—he gets to hold Miss An just like that. It’s so infuriatingly enviable!”

Why was he the only one who got to embrace the beauty?

She’d participated in the rescue too!

“...But... never mind. Their relationship isn’t something I should comment on.”

Ariel puffed her cheeks. In truth, she and Miss An weren’t that close—just companions for a stretch of shared action before. She couldn’t insert herself here anyway, so she decided out of sight, out of mind, and simply turned to leave.

But before she went, she couldn’t help glancing back one last time.

That glance happened to catch the moment Muen shifted from Miss Muse’s form back into Muen Campbell’s. Something stirred in her heart. For some reason, an inexplicable emotion rose again.

“Farewell...”

Ariel’s eyes shone with complicated light as she murmured blankly:

“Miss Muse...”

...

Muen, still basking in the feeling of his restored masculine body, lifted his head just in time to see Ariel’s departing back.

He was about to call after her when Mela suddenly floated over and bumped him irritably.

“How long are you going to keep narcissizing? Hurry up and do the proper business!”

“Oh...”

Forget it. He’d talk to her later about that hundred-million matter.

Muen crouched and, under Mela’s direction, began collecting the black, viscous substance left inside Shenyi’s former body.

This stuff wasn’t residue from Shenyi’s death.

It was... inactivated Demon God blood.

After taking that godslaying strike earlier, the Demon God blood—which had inherited the Demon God’s immortality—naturally hadn’t truly died. It had simply lost all activity.

But it no longer emitted pollution. Instead, like an ordinary lump of congealed black sludge, it now possessed tangible color and form. It could even be picked up by hand, with no trace of the fact it had once belonged to that Evil God.

“Is it really okay to store it in an ordinary metal box made by An?”

Thinking of how terrifying the Demon God blood had been before, Muen couldn’t help doubting the old faux-loli’s storage method.

“It won’t revive halfway, will it?”