Chapter 45

Chapter 45
## Chapter 45: The Primary Barrier

It was, without a shadow of a doubt, a creature of nightmare.

There was no room for denial, no space for debate—it was a flawless specimen.

“…You are currently in your human state, are you not?”

“You certainly have refined tastes.”

*Gulp.*

The essence was consumed once more.

Bony structures and sinew wove across his frame as dark plumage erupted. Dramat recoiled, witnessing my sudden metamorphosis into the Sovereign of Grave Ravens.

“H-How? By what means can a mortal transition into a beast?”

“It is merely a facet of my repertoire.”

“A talent that allows a person to literally become a monster…!”

This was no mere illusion or surface-level trickery; I had fundamentally shifted into the creature itself. Even the legendary shape-shifting of an ancient dragon could not yield a flawless human facsimile. By that same token, no matter how skilled a sorcerer might be, they could never truly become a perfect monster. They were limited to imitation.

To an untrained eye, the deception might hold, but once the process was observed, the tiny inconsistencies would become glaring. Yet, this transformation was seamless. There was not a single trace of discordance. The individual standing before me had effectively dismantled a fundamental law of existence.

“Dramat. Relinquish every piece of information you possess.”

“…Refrain from issuing commands while you are squawking.”

The human likeness was far more tolerable. Observing a Grave Raven caw out directives was a far more stinging insult than listening to an unlucky human, no matter how grating the voice.

—

Dramat surrendered his entire cache of knowledge.

He explained the purpose behind the assembly of the Star Guardians within Kramdel’s borders. It was, as suspected, due to the emergence of the 33rd star. However, the shifts in Kramdel had initiated a full year prior, and the Guardians had only recently descended for a completely separate motivation.

“This particular star is fundamentally distinct from the thirty-two that have historically existed on this landmass.”

“Are they not the remains of fallen goddesses turned to celestial bodies? How could there be one that is entirely different?”

The inquiry was logical. The “stars” were simply the remains of the divine. If that were the case, how could something that was not part of a goddess’s physical essence manifest as a star?

“The thirty-two known stars originated from the Goddess Lea. However, she possessed a twin sibling, Pina.”

“That sounds like a narrative I’ve encountered before.”

“A narrative?”

“Disregard that. Proceed.”

I had little patience for the foundational myths of Pangeniar. I had skimmed the lore previously, and it felt strangely repetitive. Dramat tilted his head in confusion before resuming his tale.

“…Goddess Lea formed the earth, while Goddess Pina sculpted the firmament. During the ancient conflict against ‘Extinction,’ Lea perished. Before her end, she fractured her essence into thirty-two fragments and broadcast them across the world.”

Those were the thirty-two stars—the catalysts required for a human to achieve transcendence. Competitors and champions alike had fought bitterly over them. Even with the right potential, failing to secure a star meant one’s path to higher existence was barred. Furthermore, if a transcendent were to fall, their star would return to the world.

This cycle birthed the practice of ‘transcendent culling.’ Unless one possessed the terrifying strength of someone like Wilhelm, average transcendents were merely targets for powerful organizations.

‘That explains why high-ranking players required guilds.’

One major incentive for forming coalitions was the collective defense of their stars. Independent operators like myself were naturally destined to collide with those groups. In fact, some of the characters I had guided to transcendence had met their end at the hands of such alliances.

Dramat continued his explanation.

“Before the Abyss could swallow the entirety of the continent, Pina salvaged the remaining territories. These untainted lands were torn apart but remained linked through ‘warping.’ We owe that to Goddess Pina.”

This was the origin of the world’s fragmentation—the reason why traveling between cities necessitated teleportation. In truth, the continents were no longer anchored to the floor of the world. They drifted in the clouds. The original surface was now the domain of the Abyss, and beneath that lay what the malicious called the ‘Infernal Realm.’ Without the intervention of the twin goddess Pina, Extinction would have wiped everything away.

“So, is this benevolent Goddess Pina also deceased?”

“…I am uncertain. That uncertainty is exactly why the Star Guardians mobilized so abruptly.”

“Then why are they still lingering here aimlessly?”

“A shroud of the highest ‘enigma’ encapsulates the area surrounding the star.”

The Crimson King had alluded to this as well. A Unique-tier enigma had been established, obstructing even his ability to investigate the interior.

“So the solution is simply to dismantle that enigma?”

“The method for doing so is unknown, and even if it were possible, one must tread carefully. The presence of an enigma implies that a specific entity is guarding the star.”

An enigma served as a signature. A common stone on the path could not manifest such a thing. It required a living soul—something that had proven its inherent worth to be granted such a power. A Unique-tier enigma signaled that a being of equivalent, massive power resided within.

I traced the line of my jaw in silent thought.

“If such a powerful enigma has been cast near the star, it might be the work of a Star Guardian.”

“…That is doubtful.”

I grasped the situation. Even the Star Guardians were paralyzed, halted by the Unique-tier barrier guarding the celestial object. No one knew what kind of creature was hiding inside.

‘They are just as blind as I am.’

They had no advantage over me. However, I possessed a distinct edge over the Guardians.

“Dramat. I have the means to shatter that ‘enigma.'”

“Ha! An enigma is a manifestation of absolute reality. How could you possibly break it?”

Dramat erupted in mocking laughter, essentially telling me to recognize my own insignificance. It was pure condescension.

“Especially one of the Unique grade. Even the Crimson King, the master of Kramdel, and the most powerful among the Star Guardians reached a stalemate. And you think you can?”

“Did the news not reach you that I neutralized the Imugi’s enigma at the Sanctuary of Secrets?”

“That caused quite a stir. …Hold on. That was your doing?”

Dramat’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Even the Guardians who cared little for local politics would have heard of the massive disturbance at the Sanctuary.

“A lone Grave Raven forced the Imugi to submit and went to face the Crimson King alongside the Four Sovereigns…”

“That person was me.”

“…”

Dramat was struck dumb. In retrospect, the figure at the center of that chaos had indeed been a Grave Raven. There were rumors circulating about the destruction of a Legendary-tier enigma. Most Guardians had laughed it off as an exaggeration, deeming it a physical impossibility. Yet, here stood the culprit.

Randolph, the master of the star he was sworn to protect. He had donned the skin of a scavenger bird and turned Kramdel upside down, and now he was fixated on the 33rd star.

“…Can you truly nullify it?”

“Without fail.”

The answer was immediate. Dramat’s thoughts began to whirl. This man had always been an enigma himself, appearing from nowhere. Looking back, when he first claimed his star, he had been chosen by the divine without undergoing the standard trials. Usually, those without the mandate were incinerated upon contact, but Randolph had simply reached out and become its master. If he could genuinely tear down that wall, the implications were staggering.

‘My own reputation would soar.’

His lowly position among his peers would be elevated instantly. He would be the one to facilitate a feat that the strongest of them could not manage. The only drawback was the consequence of falling short.

“If you move toward the wall, the other Guardians will be alerted. There is no path for subtlety.”

“And then?”

“You will have to perform your task under the collective gaze of every Star Guardian. But… be prepared to pay with your life if you fail.”

The Guardians were fanatical regarding anything related to the stars or the goddesses. They would not tolerate an unsanctioned approach. Even if they allowed it, failure meant a death sentence.

“That is a trivial concern.”

I gave a casual shrug, but Dramat’s expression grew even more somber.

“I can facilitate your path to the barrier, but I cannot shield you from their wrath.”

“That is all I require.”

Seeking out Dramat had been the correct move. Had I attempted this alone, I would have been swarmed and executed by the gathered Guardians. Knowing the Crimson King had already failed meant a stealthy entry was off the table.

“Very well. Remain here.”

Dramat exited the chamber to negotiate with the rest of the Guardians.

‘I must ensure I am fully equipped.’

I needed to be ready for any variable.

‘The patrons of the Great Uprising. The boons they offered directly.’

These were the prizes for completing the fifth Major Objective. I had yet to make my selection.

‘I should prioritize the patrons who view me most favorably.’

The entities with higher affinity likely offered the most practical rewards. These were the 500-point milestones—each an earth-shattering artifact, yet worthless if they were incompatible with my current state. A careless choice could easily be a setback.

* 《The Chronometer of the Clockwork Patron》
* 《The Signet of the Voyager Patron》
* 《The Talisman of the Fortune Patron》
* 《The Javelin of the Conflict Patron》
* 《The Plate of the Radiant Patron》
* 《The Apparatus of the Transmutation Patron》
* 《The Strand of the Unnamed Patron》
* 《The Schematic of the Forge Patron》

…

Reviewing the catalog, I meticulously picked a single gift from the patrons’ offerings.

—

The subterranean thermal springs.

Within the deep tunnels where the heated waters surged, a massive ‘barrier’ stood firm.

“Is it truly possible for that bird to dismantle the ‘enigma’?”

“If this turns out to be a fabrication, Dramat, you will suffer the consequences alongside him.”

Nearly a dozen Star Guardians had congregated. Their irritated stares were locked onto a single figure: the Sovereign of Grave Ravens. Every eye was fixed on whether this creature could actually dissolve a ‘Unique-tier’ enigma. But the Guardians were not the only spectators.

“…The Crimson King and the Four Sovereigns.”

“What business do you have here?”

The Guardians bristled at their arrival. It was a natural reaction. The Crimson King simply leaned back.

“Is it a crime for a lord to walk his own territory?”

“We permitted your presence once, but we made it clear that another approach to the ‘star’ would be viewed as an act of war.”

The most formidable Guardian, the ‘Behemoth of Corrupt Ruin,’ shifted his gaze. As one of the few surviving giants, his race claimed the title of the goddesses’ protectors, being the strongest terrestrial force.

“I am merely here to observe. If even a witness is forbidden, then there will be bloodshed.”

The Crimson King stood his ground. He was genuinely intrigued to see if a Grave Raven could actually shatter a ‘Unique-tier’ enigma.

‘I didn’t expect him to act before the Council’s decree.’

The bird’s decisiveness was startling. He also wondered how the creature had managed to talk the Guardians into this arrangement. But above all, he wanted to see the enigma fall. It was Unique-tier; it had blocked everyone, including himself.

“Hmm.”

…Under the weight of those gazes, I could not help but grimace. What loomed before me was indeed an enigma, but the issue lay in the data it projected to me alone.

**[The 1st Wall (Unique-Tier Enigma)]**
**[Pangeniar Decay Rate: 9.96%]**
**[Progress toward the first ‘Planar Breach’: 0.04%]**
**[The ‘1st Wall’ dissolves when decay reaches 10%.]**
**[Upon the dissolution of the ‘1st Wall,’ the ‘Primary Planar Breach’ to Earth will manifest.]**
**[ ‘Major Objective ???: Slay the Monarch of Planar Breaches’ is imminent.]**

Simultaneously, I could see through the barrier. It was a star—but it was held by the Monarch of Planar Breaches, and it was stained black. Within that barrier, an endless swarm of terrors led by the Monarch lay in wait.

Major Objective ???

Could the others not perceive this? Aside from the technical data, the number of nightmares within that space far exceeded the monsters currently occupying Kramdel. Furthermore, the Monarch holding the corrupted star radiated an undeniable, suffocating presence.

‘Only I can see what’s inside.’

If they could see it, they wouldn’t be standing around so casually. Whether it was because of my status as a player, the specific content and the monsters within were visible only to my eyes.

The 1st Wall.

‘That is the gateway to the first breach.’

When the decay hits the 10% threshold, the wall falls and a rift opens toward Earth. This was the ‘breach’ that had been emphasized since I was pulled into Pangeniar—the true beginning of the invasion and the erosion of my home.

‘Why here, beneath Kramdel?’

Why were there so many nightmares concentrated in this specific location? The star was clearly the source of the goddess’s tears that fueled the springs. The weeping of that blackened star was what had revitalized the city.

‘It summoned me.’

That star had been calling out to me. Back when I first met Isaac and stepped into the waters.

**[The Reach of the Sightless Goddess begins its search for you.]**

The Reach had caused the spring to erupt while trying to find me. It was bizarre. I had no significant history with the goddesses. Wilhelm, despite his five stars, was merely a ‘Knight,’ yet there was no direct lineage. Since arriving as a player, the goddesses seemed strangely obsessed with my presence. Or perhaps that star was inherently tied to me?

One thing was certain: breaking the enigma would release those countless horrors.

‘…There is only 0.04% remaining anyway.’

Even if I did nothing, the seal would break soon. I had no way to stop the decay if I didn’t know what caused it. At this pace, it would hit 10% within a week regardless.

In that case…

‘This might actually be an advantage.’

I shifted my perspective. It was far better to open the breach on my own terms and confront it prepared than to wait for an unknown moment of collapse. No, it was objectively the superior choice.