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The stars were moving.

Jinseong sat in the center of the Salt Flat, which had transformed into a mirror, quietly gazing at the sky. His pupils had changed to the clarity of a glass, capturing the sky’s stars, while the spot where he sat glimmered with water altered by magic, reflecting the cosmos down to the earth.

“Oh, stars. The grandeur of the starry procession…”

Jinseong murmured to himself in awe of the moving stars. Sadly, the voice that escaped him sounded as if it were ripped to shreds, crushed beneath a bottomless pit. It was the sorrow of vocal cords and lungs that could no longer function due to prolonged illness and endless battles.

He grimaced slightly at the pain from his suffocating lungs and the burning sensation in his vocal cords.

‘Is this how it ends?’

Even after consuming a near-lethal dose of fentanyl and injecting various narcotic painkillers into his body, he could still feel the unbearable agony.

Having been a mercenary, he had endured numerous wounds and even faced torture at the hands of the enemy, yet he could never become accustomed to this pain.

‘Oh, fragile flesh…’

It was terror that descended upon him—a pain so vast that it felt as if his nerves were being pulled out and rubbed with sandpaper, and his brain seared with a heated branding iron, leaving him too stunned to even faint.

The most horrifying truth was that this pain was gnawing away at his lifespan.

Pain could only be transcended through the mind, but it was a monster devouring his very spirit.

The suffering manipulated his body, making him grind his teeth unconsciously, shattering the once-sturdy enamel of his teeth and twisting his jawbone from its rightful place.

Even in bed, the sudden bursts of pain would expose all his nerves during the moments of sleep, activating every bodily function, preventing him from maintaining control over his flesh, making those episodes a form of torture that robbed him of any chance at restful slumber.

His brain had become overwhelmed by excessive pain, distorting even the most basic senses of humanity. There were times when saltwater tasted of nothing, when he could smell grilled flesh despite there being no food, or when his legs felt like they were shattering without a sound, even when a hole pierced his stomach without him feeling a thing.

He experienced blackouts where the world would turn dark without a blink, and the pain would return, rekindling consciousness and denying him even a moment of relief.

This agony of the flesh drove the very soul embedded within him to madness, and the tortured spirit sent shockwaves back to his body. In turn, the body and soul inflicted pain upon each other endlessly, resulting in a frayed spirit and a corpse-like body.

It was the worst synergy that could only lead to death.

Body, mind, spirit.

The tragedy stemmed from the powerful interplay of these three due to the nature of magic.

‘If only I had strengthened my body beforehand…’

Had he not given up, or at least made some effort…

Jinseong looked down at his cracked body, resembling the parched earth of a drought-stricken field. Cracks marred his body, and the veins and muscles where the fissures appeared were dried and twisted, lacking even blood.

The worst of it was that at the ends of these cracks, white bones were visible, making him appear anything but alive.

But what good was a sigh in such a state?

Jinseong was dying, his life now reduced to less than an hour remaining.

When he gazed up at the sky, the very star that heralded his birth ominously glowed, proclaiming his death, and when he looked down at the mirror-like ground, the aura of the underworld enveloped him in darkness. His palm bore no lines signifying life or future, and the soul that should have peacefully slumbered within his flesh was now raving, struggling to break free.

Jinseong was about to die.

There was no escaping fate.

In the afterlife, there was no registry, and the grim reaper did not come to collect souls.

To him, who did not believe in religion, there were no angels, nor did demons show any interest in someone who had learned magic.

He would meet his end, entirely rooted in his own karma, traveling the world solely through his own power.

Thus, his soul would return to the world, his body would be pickled in the Salt Flat, and his consciousness would vanish without a trace.

That was death and the inevitability he faced.

“How regrettable… what a pity…”

Jinseong felt a sense of detachment with the approaching death. However, if anything tethered him, it was the fact that he had not fulfilled his purpose.

He was unable to realize the childhood dream of mastering all the magic in the world and transcending through it.

Having touched magic by chance in his youth, he had lived solely for it, yet it was ironically through magic that his life would be cut short.

Jinseong felt the irony of his fate.

“All I can do is choose my process… since it cannot be avoided.”

Jinseong believed that as he had lived a life for magic, it should end in magic as well.

Therefore, he intended to conclude his life with the most horrific and alien form of magic, ‘human sacrifice.’

‘To whom does one offer their life, and to what purpose does one extend their flesh?’

Yet, he did not know ‘who’ this sacrifice was meant for or ‘what’ it was intended for.

He had obtained this magic in a crumbling ruin during his time as a mercenary.

The ruins were partially destroyed, and the murals were weathered beyond repair despite the latest scientific technologies.

All that remained were a few lines of records and the method of the human sacrifice magic. It was wrought with indistinct drawings scratched onto the rough cave surfaces and inscribed in some unknown ancient hieroglyphs—none could predict the side effects or effects it would yield, so he merely committed it to memory, refraining from taking action…

‘If it’s the last, it might be acceptable.’

After all, Jinseong was destined to die soon.

What price could be heavier than death?

Moreover, thanks to having mastered magic to a considerable degree, he had become impervious to the baptism of transcendent beings, so he would surely be spared from seeing the horrific state of being unable to die or live.

In that case, resolving the uncertainty with his life was the right choice.

Jinseong genuinely thought so.

Therefore, even while soaking the firewood in oil, stacking the wood and straw into an altar, and knowing that in the closing moments he would have to incinerate his living self while chanting the spell.

He could do all of this without hesitation.

For him, magic was everything, and it was worth sacrificing everything for.

“Hmm…”

Suppressing the agony that felt like being torn apart, he slowly walked to the altar he had prepared.

The altar was made of straw and firewood soaked in oil, and in the center of the altar, a pool of oil that shimmered like water swayed with the salty breeze.

Swish.

He tossed aside the layer of clothes draped on him, immersing himself nude into the oil, lying down comfortably while gazing at the sky.

“Grand Alignment…”

What appeared before him was the slow alignment of the stars finding their rightful places.

The grand cross, where all the planets of the solar system lay in a straight line.

“Oh, stars…”

The planets formed a cross, the grand alignment.

Astrology claimed that when this arrangement occurred, it would inevitably lead to a significant event.

As the stars aligned, Jinseong cried out.

“With the forgotten magic discovered in the ruins, I adorn my final moments, stars! Accept my death…”

Whoosh.

And as if on cue, the altar ignited, flames painting patterns as they leapt and danced across its surface, resembling an evil serpent flicking its tongue or a nebula swirling its gaseous form, as if a star exploded, crying its last cries.

Soon, the flame gathered countless shapes and symbols, reaching Jinseong, and igniting him with the azure flames atop the small oil pond.

The flames spread delicately across Jinseong’s body, first singeing the hair, then the skin, and finally the muscle…

What began as blue flames transformed into a furious crimson, engulfing him in a searing heat that made the fire look as if it were a vast candlelit offering. It evoked both horror and reverence.

In the midst of that raging blaze, he felt the pain that no drug could suppress, allowing a grin to form.

“ॐ–”

t, tT, Ttt, T-

Yha’sy thalap, Byyyyyyyyyyy——-

“ॐ——–”

The flames engulfed his lungs, reducing them to ashes, leaving behind naught but remnants.

His esophagus ignited, rendering even its passage ineffective, as his organs shriveled away.

Even so, his voice continued to emerge.

If low, it was far too high, and if high, it was like a voice echoing along the ground.

It resembled the sound made by an incessant wind deep inside a cave.

Even though Jinseong could no longer breathe, air continued to escape him, and despite having no tongue, sounds emerged as if something was writhing in his mouth, resonating uniformly.

Ypag-sothepppppppppppt——–

Yi-t, t, ttttttttT…

The sound spread.

A burning candle, blackened charcoal, a body closer to an object than a human.

His consciousness lived on, animating a corpse he could never speak from, its mind fully aware, yet its body was a shell of ash.

The frenzied spirit had long since escaped, scattering into the world, while the body disintegrated in fire, yet the mind persisted, forming shape.

“ॐ———–”

And so, as the flames moved without a breeze and took shape, devoid of kindling, their elongated forms transformed into flowers, adorning the sky.

Tear—————–ing!

With a sound that ripped through the world, the altar shattered into a cloud of ash that scattered in every direction.

And in the heart of the altar—where there should have been a presence—nothing remained. The last sparks of consciousness vanished without a trace.

As the planets deviated from their spots, so did Jinseong vanish from the world.

That was the last of a sorcerer once strewn across the earth.

A pitiful sorcerer’s inconsequential end, who had wandered battlefields, labeled a parasite, yet endlessly yearned for transcendence.

Just that.

Death was this meaningless.

Just that…

 

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