Warning: This chapter contains scenes of violence that may be disturbing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.

[He was merely roaring at the phantoms of the past]

What are these people even doing?

Albert stood silently in place, watching as players continuously charged forward, got critically injured, were dragged back for treatment, and repeated the cycle until they either passed out completely or were killed by the anomalies. Only then did they finally stop.

Warm blood splattered toward Albert, passing through his semi-transparent body and landing on the ground.

Don’t these people feel fear?

Is it because they’re in a dream where death isn’t permanent, so they act recklessly?

No. In this memory, the longer one stayed, the more their memories would blur. The fear of death wouldn’t diminish in the slightest, as there was no guarantee their minds would remain intact upon waking in reality after being killed.

Or perhaps… it is because the god they worship has brainwashed them and makes them so fanatical?

Albert glanced at the red-haired boy at the edge of the battlefield, who was supporting the players’ efforts with his gun. Though his marksmanship wasn’t as good as Albert’s, he was doing everything he could.

The moment this thought crossed Albert’s mind, he shook his head.

No, that isn’t it. Albert, more than anyone, knew the demeanor of those brainwashed by faith. He had once been part of such a fanatical organization. The minds of true zealots were completely numbed, dominated, their entire beings devoted solely to their god. Such people…

Would never display such a radiant demeanor.

*Crack—*

Through the combined efforts of the students and faculty, the auditorium’s bulletproof glass was finally shattered. The trapped Miskatonic students let out a collective sigh of relief, and someone immediately shouted, “Get the injured out first!”

The others sprang into action. The Miskatonic students quietly prioritized the injured players, especially those just brought back from the battlefield.

A player lying on the ground, waiting for treatment before jumping back into the fight: …?

No One Stays Sane had barely lain still for two seconds when she felt herself being lifted, as if she were being carried.

Opening her eyes, she saw that a makeshift stretcher had been placed beneath her at some point. The Miskatonic students had formed a human conveyor belt, passing her one by one toward the window before lifting her out of the auditorium.

No One Stays Sane: “? What are you doing? Just patch me up, I can still fight!”

Tabletop RPG players like her, even with just 1 HP left, could keep going for a few more rounds as long as they passed their Constitution checks and didn’t fall unconscious. With first aid and medical skills combined, they were far from done.

Who retreats from the battlefield just because they’re injured?!

“No, you can’t!” a Miskatonic student said with a serious expression. “You’ve already sacrificed enough. We can’t leave you here. Don’t worry, you’re definitely in the first group to evacuate the danger zone.”

The players: ? ‘But we haven’t finished fighting the monsters!’

“No, no, you’re too kind. You should go first,” a player said, waving their hand. “You’re all students with bright futures ahead.”

“No! You should go first. You’ve already sacrificed too much for us!” a Miskatonic student declared loudly, with their classmates behind them nodding in unison, not one dissenting.

A player said earnestly, “No, no, no, we really don’t want to leave. You go. Don’t worry about us—we have too many injured.” They figured that in any case, it would be fine for them to leave after their injured received first aid.

The students’ eyes reddened. “How can you say that? If you don’t leave, we won’t either!”

“Exactly! Let’s fight these monsters to the end!”

“I was going to become an investigator after graduation anyway. Protecting people is our duty.”

In the livestream chat:

[Lmao, are they trying to kill me with laughter? What’s with this bizarre situation?!]

[It’s hilarious, tear-jerking, and so damn epic all at once, ugh!]

[Seriously, the vibe at Miskatonic is amazing. Every single person is so great! QwQ I’m in love with this Miskatonic!]

[My emotions are a mess. I know the players are staying and fighting to grind monsters, but I still feel proud and fired up by their bravery. I know the students are misunderstanding, thinking the players can’t die, but I’m still moved by their gratitude.]

[This must be what humanity’s all about (collapses).]

[Anyway, I just have one thing to say: when’s Miskatonic sending me my admission letter?!]

[When’s Miskatonic sending me my admission letter?!]

[When’s Miskatonic sending me my admission letter?!]

[When’s Miskatonic sending me my admission letter?!]

[I’m different—I can go pick it up myself! QwQ Please, devs, save my Miskatonic!]

[Sob, thinking about how in the original timeline, all these adorable professors and students would’ve died here… I’m not okay. Why is this dungeon a reenactment?]

[Don’t remind me, upstairs! I was just hyped up, and now I’m emo again.]

[Yeah, it’s a reenactment script. Without the players, this auditorium would’ve been a graveyard for countless students and professors…]

The players and students were at a stalemate, with the players caught between amusement and exasperation. Still busy fighting anomalies, they couldn’t spare hands to stop the students, who were diligently transporting the bewildered injured players out.

Then, a sudden change occurred.

The C-level anomaly, Death Scythe, which had been kited to another corner of the auditorium by the players, abruptly turned toward a specific corner of the hall. Not just it—the other two D-level anomalies did the same. Ignoring the players taunting them in their faces, they all moved in the same direction.

That direction was… Professor Aldous?!

At the same time, Aldous’s casting bar was reaching its final stage. Perhaps sensing the threat, the anomalies abandoned their original prey and surged toward Professor Aldous.

Druid: [All units, attention! The anomalies are coming! Find a way to draw them away!]

Cosmic Engine: [Got it!]

Cosmic Engine and his buddies fearlessly rushed toward the Death Scythe, positioning themselves close enough to glimpse the withered corpse-like face beneath its hood, then uniformly pulling mocking faces.

Yet, unlike before when it would prioritize attacking such players, the Death Scythe now completely ignored them. It only swung its scythes to kill players directly blocking its path, otherwise marching with clear intent toward Professor Aldous.

Druid grew increasingly anxious. Even if the players sacrificed their lives, they could only delay the anomalies for a few seconds.

“Professor Alexis, what spell is Professor Aldous casting? Why have the anomalies’ behavior patterns completely changed?!”

“It’s a variant of an ancient deity-invocation spell,” Alexis said, his gaze equally grave. “The original version communicates with the nearest god, sacrificing all nearby life to summon the god’s descent. After Aldous acquired this spell, he made modifications, changing the sacrifice to all surrounding mana and spirituality. And instead of praying for the god’s descent, he exchanged it for a single gaze, thereby reducing the cost.”

“Mana and spirituality…?”

“Exactly. Mana exists in all of us to varying degrees, tied to the strength of our will and mental fortitude. Draining it all at once is exhausting but won’t kill you. This way, the mana converted by that ritual will also be consumed…”

“And the anomalies will die,” another voice interjected. Alexis turned to see the red-haired boy, Ranen, who gave a faint smile. “I’m not wrong, am I, Professor?”

Alexis gave him a deep look. “No, you’re not. Based on our prior research, anomalies are fundamentally different from humans. They don’t exist in the physical dimension and are likely creatures from the Dream World. For reasons unknown, they’ve been migrating to the physical dimension for a long time… Ahem, that’s a topic for another time. If you’re interested, you can sign up for my class. For now, what’s clear is that anomalies are primarily composed of something akin to ‘spirituality.’ In the physical world, they’re colorless and formless, nearly indistinguishable to the naked eye.”

Ranen recalled the substance he could extract from anomalies. So that’s why—they shriveled up when it was drawn out. It was like extracting the blood and flesh from a human.

“They must sense the threat, which is why they’re frantically trying to kill Aldous now.”

“Then let’s stop Professor Aldous quickly!” Druid said urgently. “The windows are already broken. If we hold out for just a few more minutes, all the students and professors can evacuate. There’s no need for Professor Aldous to use this spell.”

“It’s too late. Once this spell is successfully cast, it can’t be stopped, or it’ll trigger even graver consequences,” Alexis said, shaking his head. His gaze toward his old friend was complex—likely, from the moment Aldous began chanting, he hadn’t planned on surviving.

“You all need to leave now,” Alexis said, heading toward Aldous. “The anomalies are fully focused on Aldous. Take this chance to get out of the auditorium.”

“Professor!”

“We’re not leaving!”

“Stop being foolish!” Alexis glared at Druid. “This has nothing to do with you anymore. Get out! Your volunteer shift is over! Do you think you’re some kind of savior? Is sacrificing yourself fun? Once you’re dead, there’s nothing left!”

Druid opened his mouth, but before he could respond, Ranen spoke calmly, “But Professor, your students haven’t left either.”

Alexis: ?

He whipped around, only to see that after evacuating the injured, the Miskatonic students hadn’t left. Instead, they gathered in front of Aldous, forming a human wall of their own accord.

The outermost layer was still the players, but they were no match for the Death Scythe’s harvest. Each swing of the anomaly’s massive scythes bisected several players, their entrails spilling across the ground. Alexis’s eyes turned red with fury, his voice roaring:

“What are you doing?! The windows are open—why aren’t you leaving?!”

The little old man was practically hopping in place with frustration.

Ranen’s calm voice came from behind, “Because if they leave, their professor will die. The people holding the line will die. If the anomalies get out, others still on campus might die too. But if they stay and let the professor’s spell succeed, the sacrifices might be fewer.”

There was one thing he didn’t say: the auditorium was now permeated with an atmosphere of selflessness.

It started with the professors and was amplified by the players. Perhaps not every student was purely altruistic at first—some were scared, some were cowardly, some were driven by raw survival instinct.

But as one noble act followed another, that selflessness became a model, infecting everyone present.

The kinder the person, the more deeply they were touched.

His voice softened, and he smiled faintly, pressing his lips together. “You’ve taught a remarkable group of students.”

Even he, in this moment, felt a powerful urge to change this predetermined fate.

But how to do it? He had no clear idea yet.

“What do you mean I have remarkable students?” The little old man gave the red-haired boy an odd look. “Aren’t you a Miskatonic student too? Aren’t you my student?”

Ranen froze, but before he could respond, the old man had already bolted toward the fray. “Want to kill my students? You’ll have to get through me first! Who’s got a gun or a stick? Hand it over!”

A player holding a wooden stick tossed it to Alexis. The little old man leaped to catch it, shouting, “Don’t attack from the front! Go from behind or the sides, watch the scythe’s arc, and try to get in close—this kind of weapon struggles in close combat!”

“Easier said than done! How do we even get close?!” The player with the ID Passerby A wailed, on the verge of tears. Gritting his teeth, he and another player approached the Death Scythe from behind. The Death Scythe didn’t turn, but it was as if it had eyes in the back of its head. Its scythe, carrying the aura of death, swung toward them.

[Dodge: Success]

Passerby A managed to dodge, but the other player wasn’t so lucky. Their head flew high, blood spraying from their neck onto Passerby A’s face. Passerby A’s heart pounded like a drum:

‘System, request to burn Luck, roll Agility!’

[Agility: Failure]

[Burning Luck, Luck -21]

[Agility: Success]

Spending 21 Luck points to make up for the failed Agility roll, Passerby A tumbled and crawled, miraculously reaching the Death Scythe’s feet just before it swung again. He clung desperately to the anomaly’s leg, trying to throw off its balance.

[Strength Contest: The gap between both sides is too vast, requiring a Hard Success]

[Strength: Failure]

Miracles, it seemed, wouldn’t happen twice in a row. Passerby A thought tearfully as the Death Scythe showed no sign of stumbling despite the player’s pushing and pulling. It readjusted its stance, the blade of its scythe already grazing Passerby A’s back.

At this moment, the little old man leaped high into the air. Seizing the opportunity created by Passerby A’s distraction, Alexis thrust his wooden stick with a deft maneuver, striking the anomaly’s shoulder.

The Death Scythe, which had been standing firm, suddenly wobbled. Sensing their chance, the surrounding players swarmed in to attack.

It might just work!

But then, a shout from another player rang out from a distance, seemingly warning of something. Before the players attacking the Death Scythe could react, they were sent flying by a force from behind.

Players: ?

The D-level anomaly, Giant Ogre, which had been engaged by players on the other side, had somehow gone berserk and charged over. Wielding its massive club, it sent players flying one by one, instantly relieving the pressure on the Death Scythe. A player, spitting blood, gasped in shock, “Do anomalies have intelligence?”

How could they cooperate like this?

Without the players’ momentum, the Death Scythe merely swayed before steadying itself again. This time, no miracle occurred. Its scythes harvested player after player. The little old man’s eyes reddened as he frantically swung his stick at the anomaly, but a player behind him abruptly shoved him out of the way.

In his place, the player’s arm was severed. Alexis’s body crashed to the side. The old man’s frail frame, already pushed to its limits by leaping so high earlier, couldn’t stand up after the fall.

“This is impossible. How could a D-level anomaly have this level of intelligence?”

The Death Scythe continued its march toward Aldous, cutting down the players in its path like they were nothing. Ranen’s eyes reflected the scene, and doubt crept into his mind, causing him to murmur, “Could it be because reality has anchored the fate of Miskatonic’s students and faculty dying in this auditorium, so no matter what, this scene can’t be changed?”

He hadn’t entirely dismissed Albert’s earlier words. However, Ranen had his own understanding of the so-called “fated destiny” in this dream. From previous points in the story, he had proven that the details of this narrative could indeed be altered. What might be unchangeable was perhaps only the “outcome” in reality.

For instance, in reality, Albert would never suspect the Bureau and would continue his undercover work with the Outsider. No matter how many details were changed in this dream, the outcome would remain the same—only the process would differ.

If that was the case, the key was to identify which outcomes were already anchored and which processes could still be altered, then strive to change those processes without disrupting the predetermined outcome.

Though Ranen wasn’t yet sure what the point of doing so was, at the very least, he couldn’t stand by and watch such a lovable group of people die before his eyes.

He had made up his mind: even if it meant exposing his identity and getting kicked out of this node, he would save the students and faculty here.

At this moment, Ranen suddenly felt something odd. Upon reflection, he realized the voice that had been dousing him with cold water in his ear had vanished.

Huh, where’s Albert?

“Aaaaaaaah!”

The volunteers up front had fallen. The players had already split into groups, and with some of the injured players evacuated early by the Miskatonic students, few remained standing. The line of players shielding the students had thinned, exposing the human wall of students behind them. As the terrifyingly sharp scythe loomed close, a student let out a scream, instinctively crying out but refusing to move, only closing her eyes in tears.

*Bang—Bang—*

Bullets wreathed in golden flames repeatedly pierced the anomaly’s body, attempting to halt the Death Scythe’s advance. An invisible, spectral figure stood in front of the Miskatonic students, its expression ferocious as it fired relentlessly at the Death Scythe.

But the bullets passed through the anomaly’s body, dealing no damage whatsoever. This wasn’t a “node”—it was still a memory of the “past” that had already occurred.

Ranen watched as Albert roared, trying to intercept the anomaly. The coldness and numbness in his eyes were gone, replaced by a blazing fire.

Or rather, the earlier coldness and numbness had merely been a mask he forced himself to wear.

“As expected…” Ranen murmured, “The kinder the heart, the harder it is to witness this scene.”

But the cruel truth was that Albert knew he could do nothing, as this scene was a past that had already happened.

And Albert was an adult living in a future that had already been lost.

He was merely roaring at the phantoms of the past.

The red-haired boy walked toward the anomaly, ready to act even if it meant being forcibly ejected from this memory. At this moment, Aldous, who had been chanting with his eyes tightly shut, suddenly opened them.

Blood streamed from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, the backlash from forcibly skipping part of the spell. An overwhelming sense of weakness surged through his body.

He wasn’t oblivious to the outside world, but the casting process couldn’t be interrupted, or all his efforts would be for nothing.

Deity-invocation spells, regardless of their origin, had extremely strict requirements for the casting process and incantations. Some even required accompanying actions, dances, or sacrifices to appease the deity. Aldous had deeply studied these rituals. In simple terms, these seemingly superfluous actions were designed to minimize the deity’s displeasure and protect the caster.

Aldous’ spell was derived from a standard deity-invocation spell, which was why it required such a long preparation time. Otherwise, angering the deity could lead to unpredictable consequences.

But in the end, he couldn’t bear to watch his students die before him.

If the deity was to mete out punishment, let it fall on him alone.

Under the spell forcibly activated ahead of schedule, everyone present—students, teachers, and players alike—collapsed in confusion, feeling as if they’d stayed awake for three days and nights. Their eyes couldn’t stay open, and their brains screamed with exhaustion.

This was the sensation of having all mana drained in an instant. Every ounce of mana in the auditorium had been sacrificed, leaving it completely depleted. The D-level and C-level anomalies, standing motionless, ceased their attacks. Their bodies suddenly began to disintegrate as the spell forcibly extracted their spirituality, just like the anomalies Ranen had attacked with his staff before. Their bodies shriveled, eventually collapsing into thin, empty husks.

The students present let out weak smiles, some closing their eyes in relief. But Aldous and Alexis didn’t. They knew this wasn’t the end—at least not an ending to celebrate. Alexis gazed at his old friend with sorrow, while Aldous returned his look with calm, a faint, contented smile on his lips.

“Don’t worry, my friend. Death is just another long journey.”

“You’re awfully smug about it,” Alexis said. “Tch, turning the tide like that and dying so heroically—it’s almost enviable.”

Aldous chuckled, his gaze serene as he stared into the void, awaiting the deity’s glance and the punishment that might come at any moment.

One second passed… two seconds passed… nothing happened.

Alexis: ?

Aldous: ?

Aldous sensed a gaze upon him. He whipped around, only to find a red-haired boy staring at him.

Ranen: ‘I don’t know why, but I felt like I should look over there for a moment.’

Also, his MP (mana) seemed to be full now, didn’t it?