On the seventh floor of the Core, an old man named Vassago stood silently, staring at the entrance. His eyes were sunken, giving his face a skull-like appearance. Black smoke billowed from his body and became translucent, flickering between visibility and invisibility. He was waiting for Do-Jun. Based on the messages posted on the Core forum, Vassago had concluded that Do-Jun would soon reach the seventh floor, and he was preparing for their confrontation. Of course, Do-Jun had no idea. Vassago laughed ominously. As the third-ranked among Solomon’s Seventy-Two and fourth overall in the Deep Realm, he was confident of victory. Considering how other strong opponents had stormed Earth and never returned, it was clear that Do-Jun’s power exceeded expectations. Vassago wondered how strong Do-Jun really was as he eagerly looked forward to Do-Jun’s arrival. I’m going to make sure he dies here. The weather was quite chilly. At 1 AM, while everyone else was fast asleep, Do-Jun sat alone at the dining table, drinking coffee and reading a book. Normally, he would either be in bed or practicing his breathing techniques at this hour, but tonight, he planned to go to the seventh floor of the Core. A short while later, his SpacePad finished charging. Do-Jun unplugged it from the charger, and just as he was about to use the Core talisman to teleport directly to the sixth floor, he paused and took out a black bag. He packed it with snacks like chips, drinks, and bread. “Here, have some of this,” Do-Jun said. Ryzagal gratefully accepted the black bag that Do-Jun handed him. Peering inside, he saw it was filled with Earth’s food. For Ryzagal, who hadn’t had a proper meal in a long time, it felt like a ray of light. Nearby, the Water Serpent cautiously approached, inspecting the snacks with curiosity. It grabbed a can of drink and began reading the Hangul printed on its surface, one character at a time. Do-Jun chuckled. The creature had now learned enough Korean to read simple words, although he often didn’t know their meanings. Ryzagal opened the can of sikhye and took a big sip. “Heh. Sikhye is the best.”[1] Sikhye was Ryzagal’s favorite drink. He couldn’t resist the unique combination of floating rice grains and sweetness. The Water Serpent also followed suit, drinking the sikhye. It seemed to enjoy it as well. “Well, see you guys later.” With that, Do-Jun prepared to head to the seventh floor. The Water Serpent suddenly panicked and ran over to Do-Jun. With rice grains stuck to its mouth, it cried out, “W-wait!” “Hold on. There’s something I need to tell you.” “Tell me?” Do-Jun asked quizically. The Water Serpent caught its breath and then reached out toward the seventh-floor entrance. When it muttered a spell under its breath, the pitch-black entrance gradually cleared. Through the now-transparent gateway, the figure of a skeletal old man with sunken eyes became visible. “That’s Vassago. He’s waiting for you, Lee Do-Jun,” the Water Serpent said. “How does a demon of Solomon even know about you? What the hell did you do on your way to the sixth floor to make a Deep Realm demon target you?” Do-Jun shrugged. He had a vague idea but didn’t care enough to dwell on it. In truth, Do-Jun wasn’t particularly concerned with the affairs of the Deep Realm and saw the Core as just another one of Earth’s many Fissures. As for the monsters within it, he considered them no different than the D-rank orcs in a Fissure in Seoul. Their internal struggles over kingship and rankings meant nothing to him. “Well, thanks for the heads-up.” Do-Jun stepped into the gateway. The Water Serpent, alarmed, cried out in panic, “H-hold on!” The entrance spat out a man, who landed lightly on the ground and turned to face forward. He wore a leather jacket, pulling the hood low over his face. Vassago instinctively realized that the man before him was the infamous King of Earth. Despite the rumors, he seemed pitifully weak and unimpressive. “Keke, so you’re the King of Earth,” he said. As he stretched his body, a cracking sound echoed. Soon, thick black smoke filled the air around them. Faint, eerie laughter reverberated, and Vassago’s form vanished into the gloom. “I truly don’t understand why the Rankers of the Deep Realm fell to someone like you.” Even so, he didn’t lower his guard. Vassago had meticulously prepared for this confrontation with Do-Jun. This place was now entirely his domain. There was no way he could lose. Why isn’t he moving? Vassago thought as he studied Do-Jun carefully. It didn’t seem like fear. In fact, Do-Jun appeared almost unnaturally calm. Vassago revealed himself again. However, Do-Jun wasn’t focused on him. His eyes were fixed on something in the distance, somewhere else entirely. “Keke, where are you looking? I’m right here.” Finally, Do-Jun turned his head to meet Vassago’s gaze. Vassago struck the ground twice with his staff. Instantly, countless demonic claws shot out, rushing toward Do-Jun. Their crimson eyes spun wildly before locking onto him. Flames erupted as the claws advanced. Just as Vassago thought he had him, his face twisted in irritation. Do-Jun had already escaped, reappearing twenty meters away. Strangely, though, Do-Jun still hadn’t attacked him back. “Ah, I see it now,” Do-Jun said with a smirk. “What’s so funny?” Vassago asked. Do-Jun replied with dry indifference. “You’re a fake.” Vassago’s eyes widened in shock. Do-Jun was right. Vassago’s true body wasn’t on the seventh floor. It was hidden deep within the Deep Realm, in a true abyss. The Vassago before him was merely an illusion projected through an artifact. In other words, this was a copy. “H-how do you know that?!” Do-Jun answered calmly. “You’ve put some effort into your preparation. I’ll give you credit for that.” Unlike other demons, Vassago initially paid little attention to Earth or its inhabitants. He believed the Encroachment process would eventually be complete, heralding the start of the Great War. However, as time passed and Earth remained unaffected by the Encroachment, restless demons descended upon it, only to be killed one after another. Rumors circulated in the Deep Realm that the King of Earth was responsible. Vassago, dismissive of humans, assumed that killing Earth’s king would be easy. However, to be cautious, he used his skill, Illusion, to meet Do-Jun remotely. Learning that Do-Jun was heading to the seventh floor, he waited there. Though initially taken aback, Vassago burst into laughter. “Credit? Keke. You pathetic human. This changes nothing.” He was confident. This was the Core’s seventh floor, not the Deep Realm where his true body was. Heck, even if it were the Deep Realm, Do-Jun wouldn’t know where he was. Therefore, Vassago could attack without fear of retaliation. Deeper darkness descended. Vassago unleashed his magic, blanketing the area in black smoke and blinding visibility. Let him flail in the abyss, he thought. Countless demonic claws erupted from the darkness, aiming to gradually wear Do-Jun down. At the perfect moment—after Do-Jun was drained of energy from swimming in the darkness and fighting off the claws—Vassago would deliver the final blow. Hundreds of claws shot forth from the darkness. Do-Jun closed his eyes. He didn’t need to see anything. Infusing his internal energy into his vision could clear the smoke; he simply didn’t need to. As the claws multiplied and tightened around him to limit his movement, Do-Jun evaded them with effortless precision. Even as their numbers grew to thousands, then tens of thousands, seemingly covering every bit of space he could maneuver in, they couldn’t even scrape his clothes. “Y-you slippery rat!” Vassago exclaimed in frustration. How was this possible? His breathing grew ragged—not from exhaustion, but from an unknown fear slowly creeping up on him. Do-Jun couldn’t see anything, so why couldn’t he get him? The claws struck the ground, gouging deep scars. Do-Jun’s movements were uncanny. It was as if he knew the claws’ paths, his steps precise and controlled. The most perplexing thing for Vassago was Do-Jun’s passivity; he hadn’t launched a single strike. Regardless, Vassago thought the situation was in his favor. That was his mistake. He realized the truth soon. “Found it,” Do-Jun muttered. As Do-Jun drew his sword, Vassago could no longer feel confident. “K-keke, found what?” Do-Jun smirked and replied, “The source of your confidence.” The demonic claws froze. Shocked, Vassago stopped attacking, recalling his true body hidden in the Deep Realm. That was where all his confidence in this battle was coming from. “Y-you found me?!” he asked in disbelief. Do-Jun adjusted his grip on the sword. Vassago broke into a cold sweat and then burst into frantic laughter. “K-keke, so what? There’s nothing you can do! This is the seventh floor! To reach the Deep Realm, you’d have to...” Do-Jun smirked. “I don’t need to go there.” “W-what do you mean...?” Do-Jun slashed his sword horizontally. As if it had never been there, the sword disappeared, fading away like a mirage. Along with it, Vassago’s illusion also vanished. Deep Realm, Mount Yeongryunsan. Wei Zhongqi was practicing sword techniques in his front yard, holding a wooden sword. He was focusing on the seven sword techniques he had learned from the Heavenly Demon Sect. Although he knew all the mnemonic phrases, executing them properly was no easy feat. “Mastering even one of these seven techniques could let you dominate the world.” This was something often said among the leaders of the Heavenly Demon Sect during his time there. However, not a single person in the sect had managed to fully master even one technique. The seven forms, collectively called the Cultivation Sword Techniques, were created by the Heavenly Demon himself. Among all practitioners, Do-Jun was the only one capable of using them properly. “Wei Zhongqi!” Murmu came rushing over, panting heavily. Wei Zhongqi sighed and stopped his practice. It was an unspoken rule in the martial world not to disturb someone during training, but this was the Deep Realm, where such customs often meant little. “What is it?” he asked. Vassago was a Solomon’s Demon ranked fourth in the Deep Realm, directly above Murmu. “Killed by?” Wei Zhongqi asked. “They said his body was suddenly split in half,” Murmu said. Such an occurrence was unheard of. “His subordinates mentioned that he had gone to the seventh floor using Illusion...” “The seventh floor?” Wei Zhongqi asked. “They said he went to fight the King of Earth.” A moment of silence passed, then Wei Zhongqi muttered under his breath, “Soul sword...” “Vasaago may have fallen to a soul sword.” Wei Zhongqi shook his head. “I don’t know much about it myself. But the Heavenly Demon once described the soul sword as the sword within one’s heart. He said that as long as the wielder’s will was strong enough, they could kill their target regardless of distance. It’s an unimaginable level of mastery.” Murmu’s eyes widened in shock. “T-that’s insane.” At that moment, Murmu’s face turned pale. “T-then... does that mean the king of Earth can kill everyone here just by willing it? Without even descending to the Deep Realm?” 1. Sikhye is a traditional Korean rice beverage! Think of it as sweet rice juice with rice bits :) ☜