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Chapter 259

First and foremost, it was imperative to determine what kind of illusion enveloped him. With that thought in mind, Choi Yeon-woo discreetly observed his surroundings.

Though he casually referred to it as an illusion for convenience, there were indeed various types of illusions.

The most commonly encountered one was those induced by drugs, while the rarest was an illusion formed through the structure of buildings.

Among the countless varieties of illusions, the easiest to distinguish was a “dream.”

Just by ascertaining whether the illusion he was ensnared in was a dream or not would exponentially increase his chance of escaping it.

‘Let’s see…’

With narrowed eyes, Yeon-woo gazed at the world as vaguely as possible. Dreams are fundamentally more akin to being blurry rather than clear or distinct.

In the realm of dreams, attempting to look clearly with wide-open eyes results in nothingness; conversely, the more one tries to see by closing their eyes, the more visible it becomes.

However, completely shutting his eyes would mean blindness, so the key was to observe with as vague a vision as possible.

If he could find only that, it would confirm that this illusion was indeed a dream.

‘Where are you, endpoint?’

The endpoint. Finding the point where the dream concludes was the simplest method to determine if it was indeed a dream.

Except for himself and the central figure of the dream, everything witnessed within it was blurry and indistinct.

It was somewhat akin to game graphics. While the visible parts are meticulously crafted, the details of rocks by the roadside or the inner workings of an owl soaring in the sky are rarely well-designed; dreams share that same trait.

After all, since one forgets upon waking, there are indeed parts that feel rushed or carelessly finished.

Usually, the moment one realizes this presence, they awaken from the dream, which hunters labeled as the endpoint. The endpoint of a dream and the endpoint of a trap.

Yet, at this moment, it likely was not the endpoint. Yeon-woo intended to linger in this illusion for a while longer even if he found it.

Such traps were typically the kind that fed on the pain of others.

In other words, as long as Yeon-woo displayed a semblance of suffering, they wouldn’t genuinely seek his death.

That depended on his acting skills, but if he were caught, escaping then would pose no issue.

‘…Found it, endpoint.’

Everything around him melted into a foggy space that entered Yeon-woo’s vision, resembling a shoddy graphic blob. It was the kind of thing that would make anyone laugh and say, “Oh, this is a dream.”

However, Yeon-woo did not face it directly. There was no need to awaken right now. With that thought, he moved forward. The reasoning was simple.

‘Training in a dream? This is the ultimate cheat!’

Who would have thought that instead of him seeking the Room of Mind and Time, it would come looking for him? Ah, this is what a life well-lived feels like.

*

The clown found something odd. The boy, clearly trapped in the dream world, was cowering from the series of enemies that appeared before him.

It was only natural; these beings were all manifestations of the boy’s trauma.

Humans find it difficult to easily overcome trauma. Even if one has become vastly stronger since then, the psychological terror etched in their memories can still hold them back.

Nonetheless, the boy had already surpassed various instances of trauma multiple times. Was this indeed the makings of a hero?

While pondering that, the clown couldn’t even imagine how sweet the fear would be to feast upon from a future hero.

[Ugh, it’s scary, it’s scary…!!]

Right, even if the negative emotions harvested were minuscule, in the final moments, they would erupt into something tremendous. Believing that, they unleashed a continuous stream of trauma.

From Goblins to Minotaurs, bizarre corpses to elegant reptiles, numerous traumas continued to manifest before the boy, yet he faced them head-on and shattered them.

“…Wait, why does he have so many traumas?”

Strange. What kind of trauma could a mere boy of barely a dozen years possess? Had he been living in the wild?

And what about that dinosaur? Did primitive humans freeze and then come back to life or something?

“What’s he doing?”

The clown’s eyes quivered anxiously as he gazed at Yeon-woo, who was sprawled out in reality. Was something going wrong? Should he eliminate him now?

But the sunk cost was just too high. Trauma or whatever, creating this dream world wasn’t free either.

‘Shall I… watch a little longer?’

The clown, falling into the typical sunk cost fallacy, reluctantly pulled his gaze away.

Even while thinking that something felt off, he was bound to the mindset that he had to gain something from it, resembling a stock market amateur entirely.

*

Yeon-woo had a lot of traumas. While from his perspective it felt almost ambiguous to label certain moments as trauma, being utilized in this illusion made him feel recognized.

The reason was simple. Before his regression, Yeon-woo had crossed the threshold of life and death countless times.

Naturally. Without mana, he had to stake his life every time he wanted to hunt monsters.

Ultimately, he had emerged victorious each time, but the emotional fluctuations from back then still resonated in his memory.

Perhaps due to such experiences, he felt that most things were trivial in nature.

Clop, clop, the sound of hooves echoed as a Skull Knight appeared before Yeon-woo, brandishing its spear.

He remembered it well. A high-ranking Undead he had encountered in the Graveyard War. Its prowess was considerable, probably utilizing the remains of knights.

No matter how much the spear was its primary weapon, facing it alone was immensely challenging.

Somehow twisting his body, he spilled holy water to purify his horse and endured endlessly. After a lengthy struggle, just when he could no longer hold on, a reinforcement arrived from another side to save him.

“Gah…!!”

Feigning terror on the surface, Yeon-woo was trembling with exhilaration. Memories allowing for direct comparisons between the pre-regression self and the now-persistent presence materialized before him. Naturally, he shifted his aim at the Skull Knight, changing his White into a spear.

Nothing visible within that abyss. Only a burning darkness roiling within it. The thought always crossed his mind—it was quite an impressive sight.

“Long time no see, my knightly friend.”

Clatter, the sound of an unresponsive jaw echoed in the air.

It was merely a presence from his memories. There was no way it could comprehend or respond to Yeon-woo’s words. It could only replay the past once more.

In battles devoid of a martial artist, the most straightforward precursor was breath. One could not help but partake in this vital activity of life, marking the onset of combat. Usually, anyway.

But the Undead required no breath. They would instinctively breathe, yet the timing could not be discerned.

Thus, the sole initiator of combat was Yeon-woo’s breath alone. Realizing that, he shortened his breath.

“Ha!!”

In essence, he intended to act about half a beat quicker. Continuing the fight, he would disrupt the rhythm his opponent had adjusted to, breaking their anticipation.

Though it was only a brief few seconds’ difference, once one reaches a certain realm, even those few seconds can become an absolute advantage.

Yeon-woo’s thrust forced the Skull Knight’s horse to step aside in panic. It was frightened by the release of the aura radiating from him.

‘Wait, aren’t horses that can sidestep incredibly rare?’

Had becoming an Undead actually made things easier…? Thinking that, he forced the spear he was thrusting to sway.

As long as he managed to make contact with the horse, whether or not the Skull Knight was affected was secondary.

However, the altered trajectory caused the spear’s speed to decline, and it came to a halt right before its target, having been blocked by the spear swung by the Skull Knight.

Looking down at Yeon-woo with an expression that seemed to say “No more allowances,” the Skull Knight’s face was visible.

Grinning, Yeon-woo rotated the spear inward. With a swift flick of the spear now in an elevated position, he bounced it upward lightly, causing his spear to elasticize, thereby pushing away the opponent’s spear.

Though the Skull Knight instantaneously retrieved its spear, in that interval, Yeon-woo had already driven his spear into the horse.

Swiftly pivoting to evade the horse, this time, he had no intention of losing the opportunity as he pushed in with his left hand, letting go of the right.

Down came White, smashing the horse’s skull to smithereens. The Skull Knight, which fell upon the pulverized remains of its horse, lunged its spear at Yeon-woo.

“Yike!”

He succeeded in dispatching the horse, yet Yeon-woo found himself in a less-than-ideal stance.

With his grip only on the spear handle with one hand, he had no way to defend himself, so he let go of White and rolled to the side.

The spear continued to stab into the spot where Yeon-woo had just been.

As Yeon-woo rolled, the spear followed him relentlessly, stabbing into the ground beside him. There was no chance to recover White.

Evading the Skull Knight’s relentless assault, Yeon-woo sprang back up like a spring.

Seeing that, the Skull Knight tried to kick away White. However, in a most ridiculous oversight, its kick failed to land.

This was because a black whip extending from Yeon-woo’s right arm seized the spear’s tip, pulling it back toward him.

The Skull Knight silently adjusted its grip on the spear. Yeon-woo seized the opportunity to catch White, aiming it at the Skull Knight.

It was a pity for this Undead. Had its opponent been a human, it would have displayed some form of reaction; however, the highly programmed Golem-like Undead was inherently less responsive.

“Don’t worry, I’m in a hurry because there are lots of people waiting for me.”

No reply returned. He expertly evaded the thrusting spear. Twisting and spinning, he countered.

The direct thrusts of the Skull Knight’s spear felt the desire to suppress Yeon-woo’s piercing attacks.

The two engaged in a relentless exchange of thrusts.

Yeon-woo employed soft, fluid strikes, while the Skull Knight responded with powerful, singular thrusts, each confident in their own style to dominate the encounter.

And the outcome of such pride manifested itself in Yeon-woo’s exquisite feinting.

The implications of such feints endlessly extended the trajectory of his thrust. After countless evasions, the culmination of this led to a single decisive strike.

Thud, the spear smashed through bone and sunk deep into the Skull Knight’s chest.

“Thrilling.”

Surpassing his past self was a profoundly gratifying sensation.

(To be continued in the next episode)

 

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