NOVPUB
Chapter 231
There were three primary ways humans responded to excessive exposure to mana.
The first was adaptation—a successful adjustment to mana, which often awakened special powers.
The second was no reaction at all—a response typically seen in those who were naturally insensitive to mana’s influence.
The third was rejection—a complete inability to adapt, which often led to death.
Eternal Slumber was a product of the third response, where the soul of the individual was lost, eventually leading to death. Without life-support devices, those who failed to adapt to mana would have no hope of survival.
Eternal Slumber could be viewed as a state where people left their bodies behind. Medically, it resembled brain death. Just as a body in a brain-dead state could be kept alive through machines, life-support systems kept the bodies of Eternal Slumber victims intact.
The key difference, however, was far more grim. The odds of a soul returning from Eternal Slumber were significantly lower than those of a brain-dead patient waking up.
Suho knew of another phenomenon that was very similar to Eternal Slumber—mist burn.
Mist burn occurred when those incapable of handling mana inhaled the blue mist that poured out of the gates. Prolonged exposure to the mist caused their bodies to burn from the inside out, leading to an agonizing death.
On the surface, mist burn and Eternal Slumber seemed similar, but there was a critical difference in the type of mana that was involved.
The Outer Gods, intending to invade, had planned to spread mist burn across Earth, effectively searing through the entire dimension. To achieve this, they polluted the mana flowing into Earth with the deadly blue mist. This mixture of mana and poison resulted in a state far more horrific than Eternal Slumber. People who were exposed didn’t just have their souls dragged away—their bodies burned to ash as well.
The Outer Gods weren’t the only beings trying to kill humans, however.
“Those are the nightmare bulbs,” Antares said. He looked to have aged at least a few decades from Suho and Beru’s threats.
“The World Tree isn’t the only thing growing in the Sea of the Afterlife,” he muttered. “All sorts of strange weeds feed on the souls drifting there.”
Suho’s gaze hardened. “Weeds that feed on souls? What happens to the souls they feed on?”
“What else? They are already dead. What more do they have to lose? The weeds drain whatever nourishment remains in the souls, and after that, they keep floating around like before. There are many types of these weeds. Greedier varieties will attach themselves like parasites, latching onto souls as they feed.”
“Parasites...” Jiwoo murmured.
Her face grew paler with every passing second. Antares was describing something that could have happened to her as well.
“The nightmare bulb is particularly aggressive,” Antares said. “Unlike the others, these weeds can extend themselves into other dimensions to suck souls directly from living bodies.”
“M-may I ask... why?” Jiwoo stammered. She spoke politely now, as though trying not to offend Antares.
He seemed satisfied by this and gave a mischievous smile. “Simple. Fresh souls are tastier than the ones that have been picked clean by other weeds. These are the gourmets of the weed world, you might say.”
Jiwoo looked as if she’d seen a ghost.
Suho asked, “So even if someone is awakened, they can still succumb to Eternal Slumber if targeted by the bulbs?”
“Of course,” Antares replied smoothly. “In fact, they prefer awakened souls. The more nourishment that is packed into a soul, the tastier it is and the longer it lasts.”
Jiwoo’s face became grim. Until now, she hadn’t realized just how lucky she had been.
No matter how much she tried to comb the fragmented dreams she’d had about the dark sea, she could not remember doing anything there that could have contributed to her waking up. She had simply floated, following her instincts, her mind in a perpetual haze. By pure chance, she had bumped into the roots of the World Tree.
“I-if I hadn’t encountered the World Tree back then, by now I’d be...”
Her face, now drained of all color, resembled that of a corpse.
Antares smirked and delivered a merciless response. “If you’d stayed longer, The World Tree would have eaten you instead of the weeds.”
“P-pardon?!”
“What?” Suho echoed, his face a mask of disbelief.
“Why do you both seem so surprised? I told you from the start. The World Tree isn’t the only thing growing in that sea. It’s the biggest weed of them all. A damnable one, too, planted by the Absolute Being himself.”
Antares ground his teeth. Whatever memory had come to him clearly wasn’t a pleasant one.
Beru’s eyes gleamed as if he had realized something. “The Absolute Being...”
“This will be a long conversation,” Suho said.
He had already heard parts of the story from Beru, but some details could only be provided by Antares, the Monarch of Destruction and the King of Dragons. He was one of the few beings who knew the origins of the universe itself.
“In the beginning, there was an Absolute Being who created the universe we live in today,” Antares began.
His eyes drooped, his gaze distant as if staring into an ancient past. He was still in the body of the small and adorable Ragna, but his deep eyes, at least, betrayed the uncountable years he had lived.
“As he created the universe, the Absolute Being planted the World Tree in the Sea of the Afterlife. Its purpose was to create balance.”
“Balance?” Jiwoo asked, her head tilting in confusion. She had never heard any of this before.
Suho, on the other hand, nodded. As he considered what Beru had said about the war between Rulers and Monarchs, something clicked.
“The fruits of the World Tree produce soldiers for the Rulers, right?” Suho asked.
“Yes. Those cursed fruits!” Antares said, gritting his teeth angrily. “Those fruits prevented the war between the Monarchs and Rulers from ever ending! Every time we gained the upper hand, that wretched tree would drop its fruits, and the Rulers’ armies would instantly be replenished.”
Suho remembered the vision that Beru had shown him when he returned from the Outer Universes for the first time—a vision of a war raging since the beginning of time.
Antares continued, “In that war, we traded victory and defeat endlessly with the Rulers’ armies. Countless sacrifices were made, but the war never came to an end. It never could. The Absolute Being’s sole entertainment was watching that pointless struggle.”
If either side showed even a slight indication of winning, the Absolute Being always stepped in to correct the balance using the World Tree.
“The World Tree had plenty to feed on, of course. The souls of those who died in the war flowed into that sea, strengthening it. And the Absolute Being used the fruit to create heavenly soldiers.”
“Since that being is now dead, the World Tree no longer produces soldiers,” Beru added, cutting Antares short before he could continue his long-winded tale.
He then pointed out a very practical concern.
“Young Monarch, even as we speak, the Outer Gods are gathering their forces from various worlds. Meanwhile, the Rulers have no way to replenish their armies. Their supply chain has been severed because the World Tree no longer bears fruit.”
Beru didn’t care about the human souls floating aimlessly through the Sea of the Afterlife. From his perspective, this was simply the way things had worked since the beginning of time. It was simply part of the natural cycle of the universe, a fundamental principle that sustained all existence.
However, the balance was broken at the worst possible time, with the beings from the Outer Universes now attacking. That was a grave problem.
“What about my father’s army?” Suho asked.
“He is managing just fine, of course,” Beru responded. “He kills the Itarim’s soldiers and turns them into his own. But that only increases the foot soldiers, so to speak. The higher followers of the Itarim cannot be extracted as shadows.”
“So it’s like the Monarchs—there are no shadows to extract.”
“Indeed. That’s why the longer the war drags on, the more unfavorable it becomes for us. But we have no way to make the World Tree bear fruit again either. Only the Itarim have that ability, and the World Tree itself is one of the main reasons why they are invading in the first place.”
“I see. So the World Tree, which has been feeding on the souls of our entire universe, will probably be the most satisfying food of all,” Suho remarked.
Jiwoo was a bit lost in confusion, since the conversation had long since moved beyond the scope of her understanding. There was so much she wanted to ask, but she didn’t seem to know where to start.
Suho had no intention of answering all of her questions. Instead, he focused on what mattered most to her—awakening her companions who had fallen into Eternal Slumber.
Everything will be solved once I create the Life-Giving Elixir, he thought. But to create it, I’ll need a fragment of the World Tree, which means I need to go to the Sea of the Afterlife.
He turned to Antares. “So if I understand correctly, you’re saying that I can use these nightmare bulbs to get to the Sea of the Afterlife?”
“Yes. The bulbs drag the souls of the living into the sea. But if you manage to enter, the real challenge is finding your way back. You’ll drift in that vast sea like she did until you discover the World Tree. You could wander for eternity.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Suho said. “The situation is complicated enough already. We can only take it one step at a time. Jiwoo?”
“Oh! Huh?” Jiwoo responded, startled.
“Is that double dungeon you mentioned still around, the place where you and your teammates fell into Eternal Slumber?”
“No. It disappeared long ago.”
“Was it cleared?”
“No. We discovered it by accident inside another dungeon that had already been cleared. A follow-up party found us after we’d fallen asleep inside it.”
“So the gate closed after that,” Suho noted.
“Yes,” Jiwoo confirmed. “The original dungeon had already been cleared, so it closed naturally, regardless of the double dungeon inside.”
She had asked about it after waking up. The party that found her explained that there had been no signs of monsters in the double dungeon. It was completely empty, with only Jiwoo and her companions inside, unconscious and collapsed on the ground.
“Hmm. I see. Suho gathered his thoughts for a moment, then spoke to Jiwoo again. “Will you tell me where the gate was located? I’d like to check the place myself.”
“You want to go there? But it’s closed.”
“True, but there might still be traces of the double dungeon. If I’m right...”
“You think the double dungeon might have been a void gate,” Beru said.
“Exactly.”
Suho nodded, his face filled with certainty.
“Let’s pay the place a visit. In the meantime, the public can approve my trip to North Korea.”
