Chapter 310

Words : 2461 Updated : Oct 13th, 2025

Chapter 310 Rustle- A thin, dry texture brushed against Se-Hoon’s face. Feeling it, he instinctively moved his hand to pull it off his face before slowly pushing himself up from the sofa. Looking out the window, Se-Hoon could see a view of nearby buildings and a bright sky. The desk in the room was cluttered with papers and miscellaneous items, and boxes were stacked haphazardly like small mountains all around, leaving the space in chaos. An office, worn and musty to the point of resembling a storage room, greeted him with its familiar, yet deeply irritating, sight. “...” Se-Hoon stared blankly at the scene, silent. But soon, that silence was broken by the sound of a door creaking open and the following soft chime of a bell. “Phew... I’m so tired.” The voice sounded so languid that it seemed to sag in the air on the way to his ears. Then, upon hearing the ensuing footsteps, Se-Hoon turned his head toward the owner of the voice who was approaching him. Thwack. A worn jacket flew at his face. “...” His vision abruptly darkened again, but it came with a faint, fresh scent that tickled his nose, making him feel as if his head had become somewhat clearer. Peeling the jacket off his face, Se-Hoon looked at the person who had just passed by him. “Ugh...” With a groan, the woman, clad in a floral-patterned shirt, slumped into a chair, propped her feet up on the desk, and leaned back casually. In Se-Hoon’s eyes, the woman was someone oddly familiar, and yet like a fond memory at the same time. “Master?” Se-Hoon muttered under his breath, recognizing her. Hearing his call, the woman—Meirin, his master—opened one eye lazily to look at him. “What?” “Well... Uh...” Her pointed response made him hesitate. He had just called out to her without thinking, but he couldn’t quite recall why. My head’s not working right. He couldn’t remember what he had done before falling asleep, nor could he piece together his recent thoughts. His mind felt foggy, as if shrouded in mist. And upon seeing him fumbling to make sense of it, Meirin waved her hand dismissively, closing her eyes again. “If you’ve got nothing to say, hang up that jacket first. And bring me an ashtray.” “Oh, right. Yes, ma’am.” Se-Hoon rose from the sofa, hanging the jacket loosely on a nearby standing coat rack and then retrieving an ashtray from a cupboard. It was a routine he had grown accustomed to whenever Meirin returned from work. But while it felt familiar, it also felt strangely nostalgic. What’s with me today...? Scratching his head in confusion, Se-Hoon placed the ashtray on the desk. Meirin, meanwhile, had pulled out a silver cigarette case from her pants pocket, took out a cigarette, and placed it between her lips. But just as she was about to light the cigarette with a flame she conjured on her fingertip— Fwoosh! Se-Hoon reached out first, a small flame at the tip of his finger. “...What are you doing?” “Uh, well... it’s just...” Startled by her incredulous gaze, Se-Hoon stared at his hand, baffled by his own actions. Not that long ago, he’d been scolded for failing to create a simple flame. Yet, he had done it instinctively just now? While Se-Hoon just stood there, bewildered by his unexpected actions, Meirin’s narrowed eyes focused on the flame before her. And moments later, her expression shifted to one of surprise. She glanced between the flame and Se-Hoon. “...Interesting. So that’s how it is.” With a faint chuckle, she leaned forward, lit her cigarette with the flame, and took a long drag before exhaling a plume of smoke. She then held the cigarette out to him. “Here.” “...What?” “Take it.” Se-Hoon recoiled at the offer, a look of disgust crossing his face. “That’s the one you already smoked! That’s just—” “If you complain again, I’m going to bash you with this ashtray.” “...” Still holding the cigarette out, Meirin’s expression was unyielding. So, with a sigh of resignation, Se-Hoon just relented. “Do I have to finish it?” “Just take one puff from it. You’ll see what I mean.” “Hmm...” Though he didn’t know what she was talking about, it seemed he had no choice. Taking the cigarette, Se-Hoon reluctantly placed it in between his lips and inhaled. “...!” The fog clouding his mind vanished in an instant. “...Do you mind if I smoke a bit more?” “Do as you wish.” Scratching his head, Se-Hoon perched on the edge of the desk and continued smoking the cigarette, now fully engaged. In the meantime, Meirin had lit a new cigarette and was now leaning back in her chair. A serene silence settled over them, and Se-Hoon’s gaze began wandering across the office, his expression subtly shifting. Something feels... off. His mind now clear, Se-Hoon remembered how after overextending himself in battle with a heretic, he had sustained serious injuries from overusing the Demonic Blood Art. It was an inevitable consequence of fighting such an opponent, at least to others. In truth, it was partially deliberate. Had he emerged from the fight completely unscathed while also defeating Ten Evil flawlessly, he would have drawn the suspicion of not just the Demon Force but also the Heroes Association. The worst case also let me take care of a few troublesome things along the way. One of those was the spontaneous combustion syndrome, believed to be linked to Li Kenxie’s power. Another was the impurities in his soul that caused the collapse of his synesthetic mindscape. During his fight, Se-Hoon had judged it possible to tackle both problems simultaneously—and things had unfolded largely as he intended. With the collapse of his synesthetic mindscape, his soul started burning so furiously that his entire body felt like it was being consumed by flame. Inducing spontaneous combustion syndrome was part of the plan, but... how did it lead to this? He had planned to study Li Kenxie’s power while observing the flames engulfing his body. Yet he found himself waking up in what appeared to be a memory or a dream of the past—a situation he hadn’t anticipated. Confused, Se-Hoon carefully analyzed the unexpected turn of events, trying to piece together what had gone wrong. The Demonic Blood Crystal doesn’t seem to have caused this.... Could it be a problem with my soul, causing me to lose consciousness? Given that he had grasped the Verdant Lotus Spear before entering the dreamscape, his body wouldn’t completely collapse. Still, he knew better than to let his guard down. Finishing the cigarette Meirin had handed him, Se-Hoon stubbed it out in the ashtray and asked, “What exactly is my current situation?” “Hmm...” Meirin tapped the tip of the new cigarette she was puffing thoughtfully. “The ‘Meirin’ you remember from before your regression and the ‘me’ who handed over the Demonic Blood Crystal... think of it as those two individuals blending together.” “The dominant personality right now is the one who gave me the crystal, I assume.” “Of course. Your memories are just impurities to me, after all. To put it simply... it’s like you’re watching a long drama where I’m the main character.” “Hmm...” Se-Hoon studied Meirin with curiosity, intrigued by the phenomenon—a manifestation of her soul shaped by his memories, now existing as an unexpected amalgamation. She seemed completely unbothered by the situation, just surveying the messy office nonchalantly as she exhaled another puff of smoke. “Well, at least I don’t feel like cutting it off like other impurities. In fact... Hmm...” Though she was clearly on the verge of saying more, she stopped herself, shaking her head. “No, never mind. I don’t think it’s my business after all.” “Then you shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place,” Se-Hoon muttered, his tone tinged with exasperation. “Hey, if you have any problems with me, you be the master.” Hearing her casual reply, Se-Hoon’s expression twisted into something between amusement and disbelief. Does she really think of this as “impurities”? Her behavior was so eerily similar to the Meirin he had known that it felt as if she were completely immersed in his memories, mirroring them perfectly. Ignoring him, Meirin just flicked her cigarette ash into the tray and changed the subject. “So, what’s your plan? Did you figure out where we should start?” “Well... first, I need to deal with Li Kenxie’s power rooted inside me. If I can purify those impurities, his powers won’t be able to take control of me.” “Do you have a clear strategy?” “Not exactly. It’s... complicated.” His original plan to study how the Sacred Flame burned his body and what it reacted to had taken a strange turn, and now he found himself inside a dreamscape. I could probably also figure it out once I get out of here... but something tells me that’s not the right move. As Se-Hoon wrestled with his dilemma, Meirin stubbed out her cigarette with a casual motion and stood up from her seat. “Then let’s head that way first.” “...What?” Without answering, Meirin started walking out of the office. And after a brief hesitation, Se-Hoon grabbed her jacket from the coat rack and followed. The hallway outside was as old and worn as the office itself, with scars from bullets and blades scattered across its walls. It was clear the building was in a rough part of town. “This place has a nice vibe. Why don’t you tell me to move here the next time you see me outside?” “Would you actually listen to anything I say?” “Hm. Good point.” Catching up to her, Se-Hoon held out the jacket, which Meirin slipped into with practiced ease. It was such a familiar routine for him that Se-Hoon couldn’t help but smile faintly. Even though I know this is a dream, it feels... so real. He belatedly realized that if Meirin hadn’t offered him the cigarette earlier, it would have taken him much longer to regain his clarity. Leading Se-Hoon, who was lost in thought, Meirin started descending the stairs and broke him out of it with a question. “What do you think Li Kenxie’s power is?” “For now... I suspect it’s the power of Offering.” A power that strengthened the flame by offering it something in return. It made sense as a manifestation of the will of a blacksmith, and Se-Hoon had even experienced a similar effect himself. When I first awakened the Sacred Flame, it burned brighter and stronger when I offered a bond as sacrifice. Mana wouldn’t have triggered such an intense reaction. The act of offering something had seemed to amplify the flames, convincing Se-Hoon that was the key to understanding Li Kenxie’s power. “Offering, huh...? Then what do you think he offers?” “What?” “You can’t just offer anything. What exactly does the flame accept as an offering?” The pointed question made Se-Hoon pause, his expression thoughtful. She’s got a point. What exactly did the Sacred Flame and Li Kenxie’s power consume from an offering to burn so fiercely? As he descended the stairs with Meirin, Se-Hoon tried to puzzle it out. The first thought that came to mind was souls, similar to how the concept of offerings often involves spiritual essence. But that answer didn’t feel complete. It might include souls, but there’s definitely more to it—some kind of specific condition. With the answer eluding him, Se-Hoon returned to the basics. What kind of synesthetic mindscape must Li Kenxie possess to manifest such a power? Although they hadn’t interacted too much, Se-Hoon had observed enough of Li Kenxie’s demeanor and actions to gain some insights. He hoped that when combined with what he understood of the Sacred Flame, he could uncover the answer. While he was mulling over it, Meirin stopped abruptly, raising her hand toward the stairs. “This should do it.” She flicked her hand in a sharp motion. Demonic Blood Art: Outer Gate Splash! Blood sprayed from her fingertips, tracing lines across the floor, walls, and ceiling. Then, as if following those lines, a crimson door materialized, slowly creaking open to reveal a forest on the other side. “That’s...” Se-Hoon stared at the doorway, which seemed to connect the staircase to a dense woodland. He glanced at Meirin. “Did you recreate Li Kenxie’s synesthetic mindscape using my imagination?” “Wow... sharp, aren’t you?” Meirin’s amused smile widened, clearly entertained by his accurate deduction on the first try. Se-Hoon gave her a wry look. Recreate? This feels more like induced psychosis. When most people talked about mental breakdowns, they thought of mana or physical rampages. But mental fragmentation—a disintegration of the psyche—was also one of the most common symptoms. It was like breaking open a box of toys; each fragment could develop its own incomplete sense of self and wreak havoc. But using that to recreate Li Kenxie’s synesthetic mindscape? That’s insane. It was a daring and unconventional approach—one Se-Hoon hadn’t even considered. He couldn’t help but reevaluate just how resourceful Meirin truly was. “Will you take responsibility if this spirals out of control? It’s a bit much for me to deal with alone.” “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t confident. Don’t worry about it too much.” Hearing her relaxed tone, as though the situation was no big deal, Se-Hoon felt reassured. He nodded. “Then let’s head in.” Together, the two stepped through the blood-forged gate, emerging into a lush forest. The scenery was both familiar and unfamiliar. Squinting at the terrain, Se-Hoon observed it before murmuring, “...Is this Huangshan?” It was the mountain Li Kenxie had used as his home for many years. The details differed from his memories, but the overall geography and plant life were unmistakable. It must’ve been reconstructed from my own imaginations. Marveling at the intricately crafted environment, Se-Hoon soon heard a metallic clang ring out in the distance. Clang! Turning to the source of the sound, Se-Hoon and Meirin headed in its direction. And soon, they arrived at a wide clearing that bore unmistakable signs of human activity—a massive stone forge standing in the center, flames roaring as they consumed the stacked firewood. “...Kill me now.” Looking toward the voice, they found a middle-aged man sprawled on the ground like a piece of meat on a grill with his hammer discarded at his side. Li Kenxie, in his prime as an S-rank hero, was before them.

Chapter 310

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