The World After the Bad Ending
Chapter 270

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Chapter 270

In front of Wolfram,

Zerion stood in silence.

The moment her lover asked to be sealed away—

the emotions she felt then were clearly visible on Zerion’s face.

Wolfram told Zerion that what they had researched together was the tenth attempt.

But the “tenth” was only the number of times with Zerion.

In truth, he must have tried countless other methods for a much longer time.

Zerion looked at Wolfram.

He was smiling, but behind that smile, she could see the weariness.

Wolfram, who had always been bright and strong.

Even he had been worn down by endless regressions.

Could she tell him to regress once more?

Zerion couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Because he was the one she loved most in this world.

“Fram,”

Zerion opened her mouth with difficulty.

She already knew.

With her magic, she could give Wolfram what he wished for.

And if it was Wolfram—the man who had already defeated Demon Sovereign once—

he would surely succeed again.

Regression is not eternal.

Wolfram wanted this to be his final regression.

And Zerion wanted to be the last woman by his side.

Before she knew it, Zerion had embraced Wolfram.

His embrace, once so big and warm, now felt so small.

It was time for the worn-out Wolfram to finally rest.

“Fram, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“That’s why I don’t want to let you go like this.”

“I know. Better than anyone.”

“It doesn’t have to be this generation. In the next one—or the one after that—if I can be with you in any form, then I’m okay with that.”

Zerion buried herself deeper into Wolfram’s arms.

She tried her hardest not to forget his warmth and scent.

As long as Wolfram kept regressing, he would never have a “next.”

So Zerion decided to give him a “next.”

“I want to be your forever, and your family.”

A child is a symbol of love—a continuation of one’s bloodline.

And that child would carry their bond into the future.

Zerion looked up at Wolfram with tearful eyes.

He looked down at her and smiled.

The lovers made a vow of love and promised each other a future.

Someday, in the far-off future—

they vowed to meet again.

Zerion prepared her celestial magic.

A spell capable of deceiving even the gods, just to grant him a future.

Wolfram, meanwhile, faced Demon Sovereign’s army once more.

Though many twists and turns lay ahead,

his expression was brighter than ever.

For someone who had no “next,”

a future had been born.

No one else could truly grasp how precious that was.

But I understood.

I could feel the heartbeat echoing deep within me.

The war accelerated.

New heroes emerged.

One even toppled the Whitewood.

The world changed—

moving toward a future no one had seen before.

More and more people began to follow Wolfram.

His sincerity had the power to move hearts.

Even within kingdoms once blinded by their own self-interest,

various incidents began to unfold.

For Wolfram, who sacrificed himself to block the path ahead,

people rose up to change their nations.

Those in power were ousted,

and new leaders emerged.

They truly saw Wolfram as a hero

and swore to follow him to defeat Demon Sovereign.

Eventually, a warrior chosen by the goddess was born.

With the goddess's warrior joining the fray,

Demon Sovereign's army could no longer hold on and began to collapse.

At last, Wolfram reached Demon Sovereign,

whose long black hair spilled to the floor.

Demon Sovereign roared—

a desperate scream to the world.

Wolfram strode forward with unwavering determination.

His fists and hands extended.

A body far beyond the limits of humanity clashed with Demon Sovereign.

Demon Sovereign laughed in ridicule.

“There is no next for you. Your regression only moves because of me.”

He whispered despair endlessly into Wolfram’s ears.

But Wolfram was long used to those words.

That’s why he had already stood up from despair long ago to reach this moment.

Beside Wolfram stood countless heroes.

They defeated the apostles born of Demon Sovereign’s nightmares and helped him advance.

Demon Sovereign poured every ounce of his power to kill Wolfram—

but he could not reach him.

“What a tiresome story.”

Only someone like Wolfram, who had repeated the same tale too many times, could say such a thing.

This scenario had repeated endlessly.

And now, he stood here to bring it to its conclusion.

“Demon Sovereign,”

Wolfram smiled.

A truly light-hearted, joyous smile.

“Let’s go together.”

His hand sliced through Demon Sovereign’s heart—

piercing deep into his very soul.

At the same time, the spells engraved on his skin all activated at once.

Demon Sovereign screamed.

It was only then that Demon Sovereign realized what Wolfram was trying to do.

【You intend to die with me?】

To die together?

No.

"I’m simply… moving forward."

To the next chapter he had never seen before.

Wolfram was not dying.

He was stepping forward toward that next chapter—brilliant and unknown—where countless heroes unlike himself might one day be born.

Wolfram and Demon Sovereign’s souls intertwined.

Finally, their perfectly merged soul became entangled and fell.

Thud—

Upon the silent battlefield.

A single small orb dropped to the ground.

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A woman picked up the rolling orb and held it to her chest.

Tears streamed from her eyes, unable to be wiped away.

But she still had something to do.

Demon Sovereign had been sealed away with Wolfram.

But that didn’t mean they were dead.

Wolfram’s soul, now fused with Demon Sovereign’s, would live on for eternity.

However, the power of regression would slowly wear away through the process.

The long rest Wolfram had yearned for—this was it.

On the other hand, Demon Sovereign would do everything he could to break free.

As a divine being, his immense power couldn’t be sealed by a simple barrier.

But in the struggle to escape, he would continue to burn through his strength.

Eventually, he would fall from godhood, becoming weak enough for a human to defeat him.

That is the promise this seal held—for a distant future.

A day when another hero would rise to defeat Demon Sovereign.

Zerion, holding the orb close, moved forward with the warrior of the goddess.

Deep, deep underground—

Demon Sovereign and Wolfram were imprisoned together.

“Fram.”

Zerion looked down at the orb resting on the altar.

“See you again.”

Cradling her belly, she smiled through her tears.

Time passed.

The heroes, including Zerion, fulfilled Wolfram’s wish and brought peace to the world.

There was a moment when Rosli fell into darkness, but the heroes stopped him too.

Zerion’s child grew up strong and healthy.

That child would meet someone, fall in love, and pass down the legacy to the next generation—and the next after that.

Zerion made only one request to the only disciple she had ever raised: Midra.

She asked him to live on for the future that her child and Wolfram dreamed of.

Midra accepted Zerion’s request.

He watched over her children from afar, living through the ages in secret.

Longing for his beloved teacher, he kept the blueberry-scented perfume she once wore.

He witnessed the continued lineage of Zerion and Wolfram.

That bloodline, spreading in many directions, became known far and wide, rising to noble status in the new empire.

They named their house Niflheim.

The children continued to be born.

Some showed extraordinary talent in magic.

Others displayed unmatched skill in martial arts.

But as the world favored magic, those with martial skill were often overlooked.

The children grew up, became adults, and had children of their own.

The bloodline continued—and continued—

Until finally, two children were born.

One was a boy with no magical talent at all: Vikamon Niflheim.

The other was a girl with a unique gift unlike any seen before: Xenia Niflheim.

They each walked different paths.

And then—

Crack—

A fracture formed in the orb that sealed Demon Sovereign and Wolfram.

Something began to leak out through the crack.

It slipped through the gate that bound them and slowly rose to the surface.

It wandered the world, without aim.

Until at last, it found a man.

A man holding a newspaper.

Vikamon Niflheim.

The boy who once made a promise while at the academy now stood with wide eyes.

His lips trembled.

A bitter lament escaped—his lack of power, his failure to keep a promise.

“…If only I…”

He muttered as he looked up at the sky.

“If only I had power… I could have changed this pitiful life.”

His lifelong sorrow and helplessness reached the heavens.

“O God, anything… anything will do.”

He pleaded.

“If only I can fulfill my promise.”

He wished for it—desperately.

“Please.”

And in response, it came to him.

It merged with Vikamon.

And at last, he opened his eyes.

No—I opened my eyes.

Because the one who reached Vikamon that day—

Was me.

The Great Hero, Wolfram.

People called him with grandiose titles, but in truth, he was just a man who wanted to move on with his life.

That man was me.

The Slayer of Demon Academy.

The series I had played in the past surfaced in my mind.

But it wasn’t just a game.

It was a part of the world I had watched while being sealed together with Demon Sovereign.

The eternal time tangled with Demon Sovereign was something my mind couldn’t endure.

That’s why I had to forget myself.

I didn’t just watch the flowing world through my eyes—I created a world of my own.

I told myself it wasn’t an eternity, but a fleeting moment.

And to erase the regression, I had to erase my very name.

I had to live on forgetting even my own name and existence.

In the process, the regression continued to wear down.

The Demon Academy Slayer I saw kept repeating cycles.

It was the aftereffect of Demon Sovereign trying to change the situation again through regression.

But the worn-out regression spread the world again and again.

From one Demon Academy Slayer to the next, and then to the next series.

To me, it appeared in the form of clearing a game.

Regression wears down over time.

And when it finally vanished during the Flame Butterfly arc—

Demon Sovereign forcibly released me.

All that remained for both him and me was the power of our souls.

Demon Sovereign’s body had long since rotted away and disappeared from this world.

He knew that too.

So he must have released me on purpose.

Our souls had been intertwined for an eternity, regression included.

That’s why our soul states were nearly identical.

Which meant Demon Sovereign saw an opportunity.

If my soul could settle into a body, then so could his.

It was I who opened the door to Demon Sovereign’s return.

There will be no more regression.

Not a speck of it remains for Demon Sovereign either.

What remains for me is to move forward, down a single path.

I lifted my head.

Above me, I saw the sky slowly collapsing.

“Demon Sovereign.”

A faint smile unknowingly crosses my lips.

“Tired of it all, aren’t you.”

You and I—we’ve been entangled far too long.

Even now, I don’t know what Demon Sovereign truly wants.

Is he trying to sacrifice this world to return to the divine realm?

Or is it simply destruction born from the madness of being cast out?

I don’t know.

The only thing I do know is that he will destroy this world.

And I intend to stop him.

I raised my hand like a blade.

Sensing my presence, Demon Sovereign descended from beyond the sky, dragging the roots of a nightmare behind him.

Now, he and I are bound together too tightly to be separated.

Which means, for Demon Sovereign, the only option is to suppress me—no matter how.

“You’re heading to Dungeon to find your soul, aren’t you?”

I figured out Demon Sovereign’s plan too.

The soul currently entangled with me is only a fragment.

His true soul is sealed beneath dungeon.

I won’t be able to stop him.

Just like Demon Sovereign, I’ve been tied to him for far too long.

My power is too weak to reach him.

But I know other heroes who uphold this world.

They can stop him.

They will stop him.

In my hand is a small case.

Inside it is the collective effort of those moving forward to defeat Demon Sovereign.

“Let’s go, then. I’ll live through this to the bitter end.”

So I’ll endure.

I’ll hold on with everything I’ve got so Demon Sovereign can’t fully suppress me.

If there’s one thing I excel at, it’s enduring.

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