In the Central Continent, three full weeks had passed since the death of the Magic Emperor Aster Guilford. In the aftermath, Bulgord Kethali was appointed ruler of the Kethali Duchy, while the Guilford Duchy was absorbed into the De Molière Duchy.
Complex issues arose from the fact that the former Duke—Magic Emperor Aster Guilford—had been a leader within the Scorpion Organization's Inner Council and a pivotal figure in the Arcana Empire. This situation left Emperor Gunhars Gunlvin and Crown Prince Arthur Gunhars fearful that civil war might erupt within the empire, rendering it vulnerable to rebels and rival empires.
Consequently, the Grand Duchies and the Gunhars Gunlvin Empire held numerous meetings to resolve current crises and avert further complications; however, these discussions yielded no tangible results.
Meanwhile, in the western region of the Arcana Empire—specifically within the Kingdom of Altherias, where the trouble had originally begun—Yuta was relaxing in a chair at the Casiral family estate in the city of Berhais. He was gathering his thoughts on his immediate next step: upgrading his Dragon, Angel, and Demon genes to Level 2. With only six days remaining before his departure for the Northern Continent—specifically to the Hua Yu clan—he needed to bolster his strength. It was not out of fear of Seol Haoran or Seong Yeong-ting, but rather caution regarding the Venerable figure rumored to reside in the North, as well as the events awaiting him in the Dragon Realm; he had an agreement with the Ruler of the Afrios Dragons to visit during the summer break.
He let out a deep sigh, set his teacup on a nearby table, and gazed calmly at the sky, resolving to take that crucial step today.
He walked over to his small library and pressed a button hidden among the books, revealing a passageway; he entered immediately, without a word or a moment's hesitation.
As Yuta made his way through the tunnel, he sensed someone watching him with a calm gaze and a faint, harmless smile. He stopped and turned around to find the Exalted Venerable—Isalabeth, Venerable of the Heavenly Pool—regarding him serenely, a soft chuckle playing on her lips.
Yuta looked back at her with a mix of annoyance and a sense of grave danger. After all, Isalabeth was no opponent to be easily deceived; she had lived through three full eras and had only six hundred years remaining of the fourth. Yuta, by comparison, had a combined lifespan of 50.7 million years across his past and present lives. He decided to feign a lack of surprise; after all, few would see through the act—save for the Venerable "Heaven's Blessing" Islabith standing beside him, or perhaps the ever-kind Chloe and the sharp-tongued Madeline.
"How are you, Mother? Why are you here? I'm a bit curious."
Yuta's tone was calm as he glanced at the Venerable Islabith, who was currently pretending to admire the tunnel's design.
She turned her gaze toward him, wearing a faint, confident smile that made it impossible for Yuta to read her thoughts.
"Why am I here? Hmm... why *am* I here? That's a terribly difficult question! I suppose the answer is simply that I wanted to watch you evolve. Is that a problem? Oh, and a little tip: you'll turn into an egg when you evolve to the second stage. Wouldn't it be lovely to cuddle my little one while he's in egg form?"
Yuta didn't say a word in response; he simply stared at her, his expression betraying a mix of bewilderment at his mother's remarks—and perhaps a silent question regarding her sanity.
He continued on his way without another word, having only a few steps left to reach the site where the second-stage evolution of his dragon, angel, and demon genes would take place. Inside a room filled with runes and arrays—crafted specifically for the mana core, the sacred aether, and the roots of the Dragon Self he had slain at the Ain Al-Sultan café—Yuta sat in the center of the hall. He released his *Kono*—a fusion of dragon, angel, and demon essences—into the air, blended with aether. The runes absorbed this energy and channeled it back into Yuta's body, concentrated to five times its original intensity.
A composite light began to radiate from his body: the red of dragons, the gold and violet of demons, and the white of angels.
Yuta's body began to crack as the light intensified rapidly; yet, neither Yuta nor the "Revered Blessing of the Heavens," Islabith, showed any signs of anxiety or tension. This was a sign that the dragon, angel, and demon genes within him were evolving to the second level.
Yuta snapped his fingers, summoning the remains of a dragon carcass and the bones of a fallen angel-demon. He transmuted them into a multicolored mist that began to flow into his body, causing the four colors of light to flare with even greater intensity. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he struggled to maintain the stability of the *Kono* within his body. He was managing the flow of mana, *Ki*, and *Qi*—specifically the *Qi* of the Primordial Sea. While these energies are usually stable, Yuta's situation was exceptional; he was blending Aether, ordinary *Qi*, Primordial Sea *Qi*, and *Ki*. This mixture was volatile and difficult to stabilize. For anyone else, failure would mean death—much like what nearly happened to Grey on Jeju Island, where the use of Aether to enhance his body generated energy far beyond his physical limits.
Yuta's case, however, was different. A loss of control over his power would trigger a massive explosion capable of completely obliterating this fantasy world—a catastrophic outcome he wished to avoid.
His core began to glow with a pale crimson light, and Yuta's body started transforming into incredibly complex narrative algorithms. At the center lay a pale crimson shard representing Yuta himself, while the surrounding algorithms represented his physical form; the body was actively restructuring itself to withstand the immense power he was channeling—a magnitude representing 20% of his total strength.fully complete at the moment.
Elsewhere, the revered and majestic "Blessing of the Sky," Islabith, gazed at him calmly with a warm smile. In her right hand, she held an envelope representing her special ability—"The Scribe's Facilitation"—which had helped Yuta complete the genetic development of dragons, angels, and demons without interference or side effects.
Meanwhile, in a small village, Yuta stood in the middle of the street, looking around with a calm yet bewildered expression; it was a truly bizarre place.
It was completely deserted—devoid of a single soul or even the faintest sense of habitation. As he wandered through the area, he came across a stone water tank with a cylindrical top, a mosque to its right known as "Al-Masjid Al-Atiq" (The Ancient Mosque), and another cylindrical water tank made of rusted metal.
Yuta didn't dwell on it and decided to continue exploring, yet he still found no one. The streets were empty, carrying a lingering sense that people had once been there, but he found no trace of them—save for the vacant houses, whose interiors appeared as nothing but a blank, white void.
He decided to return to House No. 11, which stood directly before him; for some reason he couldn't fathom, he felt a profound sense of familiarity there.
"A rather strange place! In all my fifty million years, I don't recall ever seeing a place like this in any fantasy world. I wonder where this is taking place—Seoul in Korea? A cultivation world? Tokyo, Japan? Or perhaps a completely different realm altogether?" "I suppose no main characters inhabit Arab nations—or are even born there—simply because writers sideline the Arab element! Since when did having a Korean, Chinese, or Japanese protagonist become a requirement? There are hundreds of countries in the world!"
Yuta's tone was laced with sarcasm as he looked around. He felt a strange sense of familiarity with the place; after all, he was a fragment of the Great Outcast. If he originated from here, that feeling of connection made perfect sense.
As Yuta headed toward House No. 11, he sensed an overwhelming aura of death. He found a young man—matching his own height—with cold features, wide black eyes, and dark black hair reaching his neck. The figure wore loose white clothing and a scarf that completely covered his mouth and nose; he was the Master of the Path of Death.
Yuta paid little heed to the other's death aura, for a different aura—one radiating the authority of a Ruler that commanded everyone to kneel—was emanating from his own body.
"How are you, BO 00 01? It seems you're here, too."
Yuta spoke calmly as he walked toward the house in question, only to be taken aback by BO 00 01's words—delivered in a tone that was cold, yet subtly so: "I have lived here ever since I merged with you; it seems you were unaware of my existence. Someone comes to visit me from time to time—a man named Boutaleb, or what we call the Great Outcast." Yuta remained silent for a few moments before speaking in a questioning tone—prompting BO 00 01 to cast a look of deep skepticism his way: "Does 'Nameless' come along too, or does he always come alone?"
BO 00 01 offered no reply as they walked toward the house—located just thirty-four paces away—making it clear to Yuta that the other never accompanied him. After all, they were two sides of the same entity: Yuta embodied the concept of the Ruler, while BO 00 01 embodied the concept of Death.
They entered the house—BO 00 01 possessed a key, a fact that deeply puzzled Yuta, who had believed himself to be the village's sole resident.
Yet, BO 00 01 made no move to explain or offer corrections; he simply walked into the nearest room—originally a guest room, but now converted into his own private sleeping quarters.
The second room, however, was shut tight. Yuta approached it with curiosity, but his wonder quickly turned to anxiety when he realized the room's aura had vanished completely.
He slowly opened the door to find a young man fast asleep inside, an image that left him utterly bewildered. He flicked on the light, yet nothing changed; the young man remained in a deep slumber.
"Boutaleb, wake up, you lazy Ruler—wake up!"
Yuta's voice was sharp as he pulled back the covers. He was startled to find himself uttering that name instinctively, realizing then that his own memories were muddled and far from clear. He aimed a kick at Boutaleb, only to feel as though his own leg—not Boutaleb's back—had snapped. He decided to back away and make no further moves; if this was indeed the "Great Outcast," then he himself was nothing more than an insect daring to strike him.
Meanwhile, Boutaleb began to open his eyes as his body underwent a complete transformation: his black hair turned long and white, and his brown eyes shifted to a shade of ash-gray. He looked incredibly handsome—rivaling the beauty of Yuta himself.
He rose, yawning with evident annoyance, and found Yuta staring at him in bewilderment—a look that, in turn, left him puzzled.
"How are you, Exalted Majesty—the Great Creation, Yuto? A pleasure to meet you."
The Great Outcast spoke in a calm tone as he placed his hand on Yuta's shoulder. Yuta regarded him calmly, particularly noting the title "Exalted"—for he was still merely an "Exalted One" and had not yet reached the fifth level required to become a "Great Exalted One" like "Exalted Majesty Lotus Flower Jihao Yuxuan," the "Absolute Great Exalted One" known as "Heaven's Pool Islabeth," or the "Great Exalted One" known as "Queen of Hunters Kyonai."
Nevertheless, he decided not to ask why he had been addressed that way. He knew the answer would simply be, "You will find out for yourself." It was better to leave the question unasked than to hear a long-winded explanation for something that might, in reality, be entirely mundane. He decided to follow the Great Outcast into a very ordinary kitchen. The Outcast sat on a piece of cloth, sipping coffee and eating some *maqrout*—a traditional Algerian pastry.
His confusion deepened as he observed the behavior of the very entity who had created the world of "I'm Inside My Novel"; the figure acted with complete ease, like an ordinary young man enjoying a light morning snack.
He sat on a chair opposite him, and the Great Outcast poured him a cup of coffee without a word—a gesture he repeated for Yuta as well.
A few seconds of silence passed before the Great Outcast spoke in a calm voice: "Do you know what true freedom is, Your Majesty, the Great Creator Yuto?"
Yuta continued to gaze at him with a look that was calm yet filled with bewilderment He was unable to answer, for a reason he couldn't quite grasp; a deep-seated feeling told him that the answer was not meant for fictional entities like himself.
This prompted the Great Outcast to offer a faint, mocking smile as he replied: "True freedom lies in breaking the mold of behavior—being cold, acting impulsively, devising plans that either succeed or fail, making mistakes, losing, winning... It is something no fictional character, of any kind, can ever attain. After all, if a major character were to die a natural death, it would simply be dismissed as a lazy plot device by the author!"
"If an intelligent character does something stupid, or acts in a way inconsistent with their established nature or writing style, people say the author is ruining the character—or that it's just a cheap trick to let another character win! If that same logic applied to real life, then every human being—past or present—would be considered a terribly written character."
"But here is what I really mean to say: You are nothing but a trivial fool who imagines himself a magnificent entity destined for greatness. In reality, you exist solely to advance the plot—nothing more, Your Grandiose Majesty, Yuto. Wake up to reality! The world you inhabit holds entities far more dangerous than the enemies you plot to defeat; there is the reader—the one reading this right now. I say 'reading,' but they might well order a character's death simply because they don't like them!" "Like someone fed up with something, asking with annoyance—and you might well be one of them. After all, the novel isn't currently focused on you; there could be over seventy chapters where you don't appear at all, or where you're merely a background character. Be honest with yourself: this is a story, and you are just a concept—like time or space—existing within it, but not everything revolves around you."
Yuto remained silent as he listened to the Great Outcast. The words were unexpected coming from someone like him; Yuto was, after all, just an ordinary character—though in the world of "being a novel's protagonist," such a thing was entirely normal, given the infinite number of novels within the Ruler's Path.
Yet, he found the insight useful. After all, events wouldn't always revolve around him, and this meant finding time to rest and calmly contemplate what lay ahead.
He sipped some sweet, still-hot coffee, a faint, wry smile playing on his lips as he glanced at the Great Outcast, who was drinking his own coffee as if nothing unusual had been said.
"You're right, and I know it. In the end, I'm not a protagonist, a supporting character, a bit player, or even an extra. I'm simply nothing—a concept embodied in a crystal that was given a physical form. That is who I am: the Ruler of the Ruler's Path, the Venerable Great Creation, Yuto."
The Great Outcast didn't reply to Yuto's words, but a faint smile touched his face as he looked at him. "It is time for you to grow stronger, Venerable Great Creation Yuto. Consider this a gift from me for the time being—a small compensation for the many penalties you've incurred." The world around Yuta began to shift into stark contrasts of deep black and bright white. This state persisted for a few moments before he found himself asleep, cradled in the embrace of the Venerable Sky's Blessing, Islabith—held just as he had been when he was merely an egg.
A faint smile touched his lips as he felt the return of the power "Jiba" had taken from him back when they were still bound together; he could now wield 40% of his strength—a far cry from the mere 20% he had possessed after previously recovering 3% of his total 6%.
He let out a sigh that was a blend of relief and contentment, sensing the faint smile on Islabith's face as she continued to hold him. After all, the bond between mother and son is a thread that can only be severed by death—or by a wife who drives a wedge between a man and his mother, turning him into a fool who forgets every sacrifice she made for him, or by a wretch who sees moral depravity in everything.
A mother embraces and loves her son regardless of his age; he remains a child who longs to sleep in her arms—even at a hundred years old—though he might be too shy to ask for it.
Yuta closed his eyes, surrendering to his mother's embrace. To him, living life on his own terms was paramount; what use were power and status if one lived like a foolish puppet? Yet, he was no mere human; he would do whatever it took to achieve his goals, harboring no regrets and ready to repeat his past actions if they served his purpose. However, he will not deny himself the pleasures of worldly life, for he wants to live as he pleases and do whatever he wishes, whenever he wishes.