A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

"Breaklas!!!" Wiltron's snow-white body began to turn black, a sign of His wrath.

"Where did you get this thing from?! Where did this thing come from?!"

Wiltron should be the master of this false dream; no one but Him can interfere.

No one should be allowed to interfere.

Is it Hakumian? No, Hakumian doesn't have that ability, so where did this sword hilt come from?

Wiltron had observed Bray's entire life but had never witnessed him obtaining the sword hilt.

To Him, the sword hilt seemed to have appeared out of thin air.

However, the hilt of the sword, Bray, had already been found long ago, when he was in his fifties.

The "swan song" that should never have appeared in a dream was created out of nowhere.

However, the person who first obtained the sword was not Bray; Bray went to the cemetery when he was thirty years old but did not find the sword.

By the time Bray found the "Final Echo" sword, which consisted only of its hilt, at the junk market, he was already fifty years old.

But Wiltren knew none of this.

Although the will of the world cannot protect Bray from the Golden Seeds, it can still return the "ring" that originally belonged to Bray to him.

"Anyone can stand before God with this sword, even with only the hilt remaining, and do something."

This sword, which was not capable of killing gods, suppressed the concept of Willtron when he appeared.

It was only a tiny bit of suppression effect, just that little bit of effect—

It truly creates a clear dividing line between "dreams" and "reality".

Bray waited his whole life for Wiltron to arrive.

If it doesn't work in this life, then it will be in the next life; he will eventually be able to wait for Wiltron.

"Mortal, you've schemed against me!" Wiltron's body continued to swell, showing no signs of stopping.

If it were to expand to fill the entire dream world, it wouldn't be surprising.

The path that was split open is the path to the true world.

The path to the real world can be opened anywhere—as long as it doesn't exist in reality but is connected to it.

The world within the stone slab is like this, and so is the dream world created by Wiltren.

"What scheming? It was just good luck."

“The people around me are all very lucky, so I just benefited a little from it.” Bray said, strictly speaking, that the concept of the hilt suppressing Wiltron would be useful after confirming it.

Because the effect of suppression is very weak on gold seeds.

He just wanted to take a gamble and see just how much importance would be placed on people who practiced the precepts, who were essentially just tools.

The door to the real world is very close, really close; it only takes a walk of about a hundred meters.

However, for the elderly Bray, those hundred meters or so were actually a long way.

"Ha... Huff..." After walking only a few steps, Bree, who was leaning on his cane, began to pant, and his whole body was covered in cold sweat.

His slow pace doesn't mean Wiltren will let him go.

“I’ve changed my mind. You must die.” Wiltren realized the gravity of the situation.

While Wiltron wasn't sure what Bray's journey to the real world would change, it would definitely affect the Golden Seeds.

Who knows, Brey could potentially drive the Golden Seeds out once again.

Wiltron was unwilling to be expelled from Capras again.

They've all come back, but now they're being kicked out again! Absolutely not!

“If you want to expel the Golden Seeds, I won’t stop even if Themifik says so!” Willtron’s body could crush Bray’s aging body in the next second.

"It's really worrying... I don't want anyone else to go through the same cycle as me, like driving out the Golden Seeds." Despite death looming in front of him, Bray remained surprisingly calm.

If you are killed by Wiltron here, you will never wake up.

Bray has always been like this, both in his youth and in his old age.

In any case, everything was eerily calm. The sea breeze blew, and the old man struggled.

Bray wanted to reach the other side of the real world, but he was moving far too slowly.

"What are you struggling for? No, what are you all struggling for?" A deep voice came from Wiltron's massive body.

After developing murderous intent towards Bray, Wiltren's arrogance was revealed without reservation.

Contempt for inferior species and absolute affirmation of one's own existence are both inherent traits of deities.

"You people who have never lived a proper life, why are you trying to take over the world that belongs to us?"

"Why are you allowed here, but we are being expelled?"

"Crack, crack—" The sound of bones breaking rang out.

Wiltron's swollen body crushed Bray's bones and engulfed him completely.

The walking stick, which was used to assist walking, was flung into the sea and sank instantly.

The door to the real world is so close, yet that distance seems insurmountable.

"It's no use, mortal, your death is inevitable."

"After all, you are nothing."

In the eyes of the Golden Race, those below them are nothing.

Just as ants are nothing in the eyes of humans.

Lower species are not something to be affirmed.

Kindness? No... Their attitude towards lower species has never been kind; it's something else entirely.

"Crack—" More of Bray's bones were crushed.

Soon it was his waist, then his head, and finally his hands.

Even so, he still forcefully reached his hand towards the door.

"There's no point in struggling anymore, just let me crush you like this."

Bray listened to Wiltren without any emotional reaction; all he wanted was to get there.

Even though he didn't know where he was going or what he could do, he still wanted to go.

This is the last chance.

“None of what you’ve said is a reason for me to give up,” Bray said in a hoarse voice.

If he hadn't struggled, he would have left this world a long, long time ago.

It's not about struggling for anything in particular, but about struggling simply to survive in this world.

No matter what reasons the golden race might have, or how helpless the lower race might be, none of them are reasons for him to stop.

Bray's hair was gray, and his hands were covered with wrinkles.

This is not a body that can be used for fighting.

“It’s utterly absurd. You talk about the future, but who will give us back our past?”

"We are the children of the world, and you are nothing but defective products."

"you..."

Wiltron's voice grew fainter and fainter in my ear—

Bray's consciousness was fading... or was it just a final burst of energy before death?

Bray opened his eyes.

The surroundings were a vast expanse of white, much like the places where he had previously come into contact with the "divine source".

That place was just like here now, empty of everything, just a blank space.

However, Bray knew that this place had nothing to do with the "source of the gods".

Because no one else is trying to persuade him to accept the power of the gods.

His body is here, unharmed, still the same elderly person he once was.

He struggled to sit up and stand in this space.

Although it is a white world, there seems to be no distinction between light and shadow here; rather than "white," it is more accurate to say "empty."

A swordsman in white armor stood silently beside Bray—Whiteface.

His armor was covered in dust and blood, and he carried a broken sword on his back, forged from who-knows-how-many scrap iron.

Not how Bray saw the other person at the end, but how they were much older, much older.

"Breaklas," Whiteface called out to Breklas.

“I’m here,” Bray replied in an aged voice.

Whiteface and Bray looked at the empty space ahead at the same time, as if there was something there.

"Now you know what the end of the world really looks like," the pale-faced man said quietly.

He told Bray time and time again that the end of the world would only be late, but it would never be absent.

"understood."

“I’ve already told you, you can’t stop it. We’re not heroes at all.”

"I know too."

"The apocalypse you see is just one of countless times I've seen it."

“…” Bray fell silent.

So Baimian said she was tired, so Baimian said she didn't want to say anything more.

But he still restarted time one last time, and encountered a final Ray.

They were subsequently defeated.

Suddenly, Bai Mian started humming a song.

It's not grand music, nor is it tragic music; it's just a rural folk song.

A light, simple melody rang in Bray's ears.

The white-faced man hums a very nice tune; I wonder how many times he has hummed it before.

Even after Bai Mian finished listening, the song still lingered in Bray's ears.

After all, this song has always resided in his heart; after all, it is a folk song from his hometown.

He had heard this song since he was a child.

"Are you tired?" Bai Mian asked.

"Not tired," Bray replied crisply.

“I think so too.” Bray’s answer was exactly what Whiteface had expected.

I said...

"If you could cross that door, could you save the world?" Hakumian rarely used the word "save."

Because he knew all too well how difficult this was, something that no one could do alone.

“I can’t do it,” Bray replied without hesitation.

"A matter of course... huh."

"You can end this cycle."

"To break this cycle without ending in destruction."

Bai Mian stated this in a declarative tone.

“I don’t know, but if we don’t try, we definitely won’t be able to,” Bray said.

"Hmph." The white-faced man snorted softly, but there was no hint of disdain in his voice.