"Aaaahhhh──!"
The dark prison echoed with piercing screams, rippling like waves across the midnight lake. To the mages of the Violet Tower who orchestrated these experints, the sound carried a twisted beauty.
How could they not rejoice? The agony of children symbolized progress in their grand endeavor. Just as a diligent farr thanks the crowing rooster at dawn, these mages extended their gratitude to the wailing children.
In their minds, this was neither inhumane nor cruel. After all, their actions were guided by the pursuit of esoteric truths. And besides:
Do not farrs also cut down living rice stalks with a sickle, expressing gratitude for the harvest?
The first stage was now complete.
Through repeated oppression, the children had been driven to internalize—down to their very bones—that escape from the tower was impossible. Rebellion was now a concept they dared not even dream of. It was ti to move on to the main experint.
Within the circular prison, the magical formations embedded in the twelve cells began to activate.
"It’s hot, so hot I’m dying. Damn it, I can’t stop sweating! Let out of here!"
"I’m starving. How am I supposed to survive on just this piece of bread...?"
"Ow, ow, it stings! Why are there suddenly spikes on the floor...?"
Small pains.
Everything began with small pains. Each of the twelve cells was equipped with a magical formation tailored to a specific concept. For now, the suffering was minor, but soon it would escalate to the point where the children would feel driven to abandon life itself.
This was a critical process. The essence of what they sought—illusion—was rooted in impermanence. At least, that was the theory.
The goal was to erode the will to live until it was nearly nonexistent, placing the children in a state where they were neither truly alive nor entirely dead. Only in this liminal state could a child beco a Door, capable of manifesting imagined constructs into reality.
But pain alone was insufficient to reach this state. The children needed to experience utter disillusionnt with everything in the world. To achieve this, the mages of the Violet Tower prepared a ga.
"Now, in the center of this circular prison lies the ‘Golden Key,’" the mage declared.
Though called a "Golden Key," it was nothing more than a flimsy piece of paper, lazily scribbled with a crude drawing of a key. Yet the children instinctively understood its significance.
The lead experinter, known as "Mountain Goat," explained the rules to the twelve children.
"Every hour, one cell will be opened in sequence. This ans anyone can obtain the ‘Golden Key.’ Using it will imdiately halt the torture in the corresponding cell."
However.
"In exchange, the intensity of the torture in another cell will double. The ‘Golden Key’ will regenerate once per day. Do you understand?"
It was a rciless ga. To use the Golden Key for one's own relief ant condemning another child to greater suffering.
The twelve children split into three factions:
No one should use the key. Don’t fall for their tricks.We must take the key for ourselves. Survival demands it.We should serve the ones who made the key. Perhaps they will grant us salvation.In this grim scenario, Yuna Yurensto––
"──That’s how it is."
"To summarize, the martial arts world is cursed by the Heavenly Demon’s Curse. The only way to break it is by using the ‘Golden Key’ from the Heavenly Demon’s Tomb. But when one faction uses it, the curse worsens for the other two factions. Is that right?"
"Correct. The ‘Golden Key’ is, in essence, a prisoner’s dilemma."
"No wonder the three Orthodox leaders are so desperate to storm the Heavenly Demon’s Tomb."
I was able to get a thorough explanation of the backstory from Aisha, who was sitting properly with her chest modestly covered by a silk blanket.
When I asked how she knew all this, while Woo Chaerin and Oh Hye-in remained clueless, she said she had conducted a thorough investigation while half-conquering the Demonic faction. As expected of my daughter.
"So, what exactly is this Heavenly Demon’s Curse?"
"Over ti, the body begins to decay slowly. When the curse reaches its final stages, it’s as if the victim’s flesh and bones are being ripped apart—agonizing and horrifying, they say."
"Holy hell."
What a godforsaken world this is.
But at least now the context was clear. I also understood my role in this narrative. The player’s task in this story was to decide the fate of the ‘Golden Key.’
I still didn’t know why Stellaria and Magical Girl storylines had been shoehorned into this, but with a general direction established, all that remained was to act.
Seeing that I had organized my thoughts, Aisha scratched her temple with her pipe and asked:
"So, what’s the plan? If you’re going the Orthodox faction route, should I stir up so infighting in the Demonic faction for you?"
"No, I’m not taking the Orthodox faction route."
"Then are you going to show your dark side and take the Demonic faction route? Just say the word, and I’ll prepare the beautiful ladies who’ve mastered demonic arts just for you. I’ve arranged enough for three per day on a weekly rotation."
"I’m not suicidal, and I have zero interest. I’m not going the Demonic faction route, either."
Whichever path I chose, soone would inevitably suffer. The ‘Golden Key’ worsened the curse for the other two factions not using it.
For the sa reason, I wouldn’t go the Unorthodox faction route, either. I was going to forge a fourth path.
"We’re all just playing into the curse’s hands, aren’t we? If we resolve the curse itself, there’ll be no need to fight."
"The curse is a map gimmick, Dad. It’s a foundational part of the session’s setup. Do you even know if it’s possible to resolve? What if the opportunity never arises?"
I knew.
The odds were high that lifting the curse wouldn’t be an option. This wasn’t a session with as the protagonist—it was Yuna’s mory disguised as one. But even so, it didn’t matter.
"Even if I can’t resolve the curse, fighting over ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) the ‘Golden Key’ is the wrong answer. The outco is obvious. If the Orthodox faction seizes and uses the key, what happens next? The Unorthodox and Demonic factions, on the verge of death, won’t just sit by and take it."
They’d think, If we’re going down anyway, we’ll drag them with us, and bloodshed would follow.
Though they initially explored the Heavenly Demon’s Tomb and clashed for survival, this story would end with all three factions sinking into oblivion.
So the best solution was harmony.
"A peaceful crossover that unites the Orthodox, Unorthodox, and Demonic factions."
I made a cross with my fingers, declaring a path of unity and peace. Aisha, looking unimpressed, nodded slightly with her pipe.
"...I’d say that’s easier said than done, but knowing you, you’ve already got a plan in place, right? Let know when you’ve explained it to Oh Hye-in and Woo Chaerin. I’ll follow your instructions."
"Yes, Sura Blood Ghost Rakshasa Baekcheonma, your will be done."
"...Hmph."
When I teased her a little, Aisha scowled at , clenching her pipe between her teeth. While she managed to suppress the redness on her face, her ears turned bright red, sothing she couldn’t control. Her ears were blushing.
Right, it had been about six months since Aisha was "born." This was around the ti middle-school syndro kicked in and kids started wanting cool-sounding nas.
I wasn’t in a position to criticize anyone’s naming sense, but still, I had to say it:
"You need to study the aesthetics of subtlety. Just showing everything off doesn’t make it appealing. It’s all about the tease, you know? Like this—just a little."
"Ugh, shut up, Dad! I’ll handle it myself!"
"And if you’re going with a na like Sura Blood Ghost Rakshasa Baekcheonma, you should’ve considered the color sche. If it were , I’d start with the color of the underwear—"
"HEY! I said I’d handle it!!"
I bolted imdiately. Judging by the fury in her voice, this was one of those topics that could lead to full-blown family violence.
Aisha, like a tiger, chased after with her pipe in hand, gracefully using her martial footwork.
If I were at full strength and free to use my magic, I might have been able to shake her off. But in my current state, constrained by the session’s restrictions, I ended up getting smacked around with her pipe. Classic WWE.
As I endured Aisha’s moves, a thought crossed my mind.
Sotis, people face unavoidable challenges—like the unpleasant roommate sealed in my head.
Looking back, the reason we managed to navigate our fight against "it" was because we chose to care for each other instead of taking the easy way out.
Had we chosen to point swords at each other, thinking, What if it escapes soday? What if the Mad Wizard goes insane and becos a monster? we’d have ended up in a miserable wreck.
Instead, we loved and supported each other, and sohow made it this far. I believed that this ti, too, a path that seed like a detour at first would ultimately prove to be the shortest route.
Whether it’s the Orthodox, Unorthodox, or Demonic faction, I’ll bring them together and break through. Let’s aim for the ultimate happy ending.
Just as we always have.
Yuna Yurensto spoke firmly.
"We need to co together. We can’t let ourselves be swayed by the ‘Golden Key.’ We can’t fall for the mages’ manipulations. Let’s convince everyone and make a promise—not to use the ‘Golden Key.’"
Her decision echoed the sa judgnt as that of the Mad Wizard from a distant future. One of the other children, listening intently to Yuna’s plea, nodded heavily after a mont of deep thought.
The motion caused a pair of earrings to sway.
"Alright, I get it. You’re right. No one should use the key. I’ll talk to the others, too. But... what about the greedy ones? And those kids who follow those cursed mages? Can we really convince them?"
"...I’ll try."
They needed to unite every child, freeing them from the temptation of the ‘Golden Key.’
For everyone’s sake. Even in this hell with no escape, Yuna Yurensto clenched her small fists, believing in the possibility of a better tomorrow.
I returned to Oh Hye-in and Woo Chaerin, ready to spill the bag of information I had gathered—the Heavenly Demon’s Curse and the effects of the Golden Key.
After listening to the details, both Oh Hye-in and Woo Chaerin fell into their own contemplative silences.
"A curse, huh... It reminds of ‘Corrupted Demon King Lucifer Zechniel.’ Monsters feed off the despairing emotions of humans, so maybe the Heavenly Demon’s Curse is part of his plan."
"A curse, you say...? It makes think of the traits of the ‘Great Beasts.’ They were entities born of pure malice that tornted humans. Perhaps my summoning here is a sign of the Great Beasts’ revival..."
"......"
Their gazes shifted toward . It seed they were reflecting on the fact that it was who had brought figures like the Great Beasts and Zechniel into the session in the first place. I turned my head and stared at the distant mountains, pretending not to notice.
It reminded of Abraham’s case. Once people realized that I was the one indirectly responsible for ruining their worlds, the atmosphere always got... awkward.
Oh Hye-in broke the silence with a pointed question.
"By the way, boss, do you have a thing for self-sacrifice?"
"Huh?"
"You know, like Chaerin’s world, and Centra’s world, too. Even here, Big Bro Dae-su blew himself up at the end. I was wondering if you’re into that kind of story where one person takes on everything and sacrifices themselves for everyone’s happiness."
"...I wouldn’t say I’m into it. I do think it’s cool, though."
But stories that end in sacrifice aren’t happy endings.
I prefer a flawless victory if possible. Even if the logic falters a little, I’d rather see everyone alive and laughing together at the end.
Back when my sessions were just stories, I thought that’s where it should end—after all, illusions are illusions. I wanted to conclude things this way to send the players back to reality.
But everything changed when I realized the NPCs had gained self-awareness. The protagonists deserve to find happiness: to marry, have children, and live their lives in bliss. That’s the least I can do for them.
So no, this isn’t the end of Iride’s story, nor anyone else’s. This isn’t the finale—it’s a retracted ending. I’ll keep the narrative going until they all cross the finish line to happiness.
The sa applies to Yuna’s story and mine.
I clapped my hands to draw their attention, then began explaining my plan.
"Alright, the goal is simple. Right now, we’ve got an ally in each faction: Orthodox, Unorthodox, and Demonic. We’ll use this advantage to unite all the factions, stop the fighting, and ensure no one touches the Golden Key."
"It’s an excellent plan... except for the missing ‘how.’ Care to share how you’re going to unify these factions, Administrator?"
"With the power of love."
"......?"
Exactly.
No matter how much you negotiate, redistribute benefits, or even resort to threats, the embers of conflict don’t die easily. Even if I beat everyone into submission, the sparks would remain.
But people in love don’t point swords at one another.
And conveniently, we have the perfect stage for fostering romance: the Heavenly Demon’s Tomb. It’s a confined space filled with chanical traps, hazards, and danger—a place where love is bound to blossom.
A bit of setup, so subtle guidance, and modified traps are all it takes. As long as there’s a pair of potential lovers, the rest is easy. I solemnly raised my hand and declared the operation’s na.
"Operation ‘Heavenly Demon’s Tomb: Heart-Pounding Date—The Room You Can’t Leave Until You Beco a Couple.’"
"......"
"......"
If we pair everyone off into couples across factions, they won’t be able to fight. Problem solved!
The Heavenly Demon’s Tomb—Cheonma Chong.
Once, there was no one in the martial world who didn’t know the na of this monstrous evil. Its malice and strength were so great that rumors claid it could turn day into night with its power.
Surely, the tomb was rife with horrific and malicious traps. Perhaps poisoned needles that would rot flesh on contact or razor-sharp blades that could sever a neck in an instant.
But for the sake of their sect, and to lift the curse that lood over the martial world, they had no choice but to press onward. They must break through!
...At least, that was the solemn determination of the Orthodox warrior who vowed to succeed even at the cost of their life.
"Wh-why the hell am I doing this with a damn Demonic faction lackey...?!"
"Silence! You Orthodox dog, your yamring is making the water balloon shake!"
Why, oh why, were they playing so bizarre ga where they had to carry a water balloon wedged between their chests? Why were there so many suspiciously cooperative two-person traps in the Heavenly Demon’s Tomb? And above all... why was their heart racing?
.......
"Alright, that’s another area modified. Next."
"What mini-ga should we add next? Twister?"
"Oh, that’s a good one."
The Orthodox warrior had no way of knowing that the tomb was being actively remodeled in real-ti by a genius scientist, a Mad Wizard, and a magical girl working together.
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