[Mission: Seer, Clown, Magician.]
[You seem to have entered a dimension detached from reality, where countless voices cry out for miracles. But what is a miracle? The absurd performances of actors?]
[Status: Completed.]
[Mission Reward: This is a multi-stage mission. Rewards will accumulate. Note: Early withdrawal of rewards will reduce the final quality.]
[New mission updated.]
[Mission: The Theater Never Falls.]
[Marionettes, history, miracles.]
[Divination, performances, the grotesque.]
[Dismantling, piling, stitching.]
[Above the dome lies the essence of miracles. Beware—their power is not to be underestimated… Ah, and neither is the audience.]
[Warning: This mission is extremely dangerous. Proceed with caution.]
[Current Progress: Final Stage.]
Flames roared skyward, the searing heat so intense Don felt his skin might melt at any moment.
The sudden appearance of a demi-god-tier Law of Reality Enhancement had indeed dealt a heavy blow to the colossal theater's master, but it wasn't enough to shake its foundation.
Given time, the damage would quickly mend itself through the power of miracles.
But…
"There's a breach."
Don exhaled silently.
The medium it relied on had been ruptured—first by the Law of Reality Enhancement, then by the explosion's sheer scientific brutality. The marionettes had borne the brunt of the blast, pinned down by the Law, forced to watch as the flames devoured them and the surviving audience fled in panic.
A corner of the theater had been blasted open, revealing the blinding sunlight outside—a beacon of hope for the despairing Beyonders.
The ordinary people turned into marionettes dissolved into the scorching winds, their souls perhaps ascending to the realms of their worshipped deities. The remaining marionettes, those not outright annihilated, were missing limbs or hideously burned, their combat effectiveness crippled.
At least, that applied to those caught in the blast… and those below the demigod level.
Spirit threads writhed and tangled like frenzied serpents. Don rolled across the ground, then snapped his gaze upward.
Countless intersecting spirit threads coiled together as shadows rapidly spread, attempting to seal the breach connecting to reality.
From the corners, from the darkness, more marionettes emerged—their faces eerily blank, radiating deathly stillness.
Some immediately gave chase to the fleeing Beyonders, but most turned their hollow eyes toward the architect of this chaos.
Among them were deformed Beyonders, and at their forefront loomed a massive, horned devil reeking of sulfur.
The initial explosion had wiped out many, but countless more lurked in the shadows. Now, they advanced—slow, relentless, like pilgrims drawn to a holy site.
Not far from where Don had landed, an old woman clutching a crystal ball glared at him icily.
She raised her orb—but Don didn't wait.
The Golden Hammer's enhancement on the chains hadn't yet expired. He called to the System.
["Artisan" module preheated.]
[Loading complete.]
The chains wrapped around him—the same ones that had torn open the theater—vanished. In their place, an ancient bronze bell materialized behind him.
To forcibly alter the mystical properties of an already crafted artifact.
The power he sought to imbue?
"Death."
The Golden Hammer struck the bell.
Already elevated to a Demi-god-tier Law of Death, the bell received another demigod-grade enhancement!
His target?
The spirit threads controlling the marionettes.
To render all marionette strings 'dead.'
In other words—
"Marionette manipulation is forbidden here."
Dong—
Dong—
The bell's mournful toll reverberated through the horde of marionettes. From the dome above, the threads controlling them began to unravel.
The nearest marionettes collapsed, their bodies suddenly lifeless.
The sound spread like wind, sweeping across the entire theater.
Had he used this death decree from the start, it would've only affected the marionettes within the auditorium—leaving the hidden reserves untouched.
Facing a Sequence 2, and being of the same pathway himself, Don knew exactly how formidable a sealed artifact of this level could be.
He never expected the explosion to destroy the theater outright.
But if the remaining marionettes weren't dealt with, the worst-case scenario was being swarmed to death.
As the Golden Hammer faded, Don flicked a match into the air during the death decree's duration.
The match ignited, and his body blinked upward.
Now—while the miracle's power was depleted and the artifact focused on resealing the breach—was the time to strike.
And he possessed something with absolute certainty to seal this artifact.
The lingering Reality Enhancement and the rapidly strengthening Death Decree spread across the seemingly infinite dome.
Match after match flared as Don ascended.
At the heart of the converging spirit threads hovered a crystal-carved gem, dark and prismatic, pulsing like a heart.
It sensed his intent.
The space around him distorted—the distance to the gem stretching infinitely.
A miracle.
Another hammer appeared in Don's hand.
This one was dull silver.
[500 knowledge fragments consumed. Current weakening elevated to demigod tier.]
[Remaining fragments: 6,315.]
He swung downward.
The miracle's power flickered.
Space normalized. Riding the updraft of flames, Don closed in on the gem—
Then, beneath his clothes, an eerie luminescence stirred.
The shadows came alive.
They seized him—strangling, dragging him down.
Simultaneously, a figure materialized beside him: a middle-aged man who had ridden his own matches upward, unnoticed until now.
"Black Knight. Bizarro Sorcerer."
The System's analysis arrived just as Don's body disintegrated into a rust-stained paper effigy.
"A Marionettist," the man murmured, tipping his tall hat with genteel grace. His smile was polished, mocking—as if savoring how Don's efforts had paved his way.
"A pity. Your little artifact did render my marionettes… inconvenient."
(End of Chapter)