Ch.1147What Kind of Dream Is This Kid Having?

Since it was designed to obey the commands of authorized users, the weakness of artificial intelligence is that it must follow orders even if they are harmful when given by someone with command authority.

Regin, the god of machinery, calculated and reported all possible future outcomes according to the instructions of the ascended gods who utilized Kranus.

Of course, he persistently backtracked the bypass route of the user, identified the existence of “Kranus,” and completely revoked access privileges as soon as the report was completed.

“The results are as expected. It’s unfortunate that luck wasn’t on our side, but…”

“We achieved our goal, didn’t we? That’s enough. Let’s focus on what comes next. The important part starts now.”

“…That’s true. Systematically organizing this information and then stably injecting it won’t be a simple task.”

The answer Regin provided them was merely an enumeration of countless events and their consequences.

Synthesizing, selecting, and injecting this information in the least shocking way possible was a task the ascended gods had to undertake with great care.

“I’ll handle the organization. Imela, please assist me, and the others…”

The six ascended gods divided their roles and began working on modifying the soul from another world.

Astraea and Imela wove the vast information produced by Regin into one grand narrative, while Menes used his power to intervene in others’ dreams to inject that story into the otherworldly soul.

Of course, they didn’t just forcefully dump all that information into the otherworldly soul.

That would have finished the job quickly, but how could anyone possibly handle such an experience?

Information that couldn’t be explained by one’s common sense, stories that were hard to believe as reality—it would be like a tsunami of forced information.

This could cause severe unconscious rejection due to excessive dissonance, potentially causing considerable damage to the soul itself.

Therefore, instead of directly implanting the story organized by the two goddesses as a dream, Menes chose a more indirect and careful approach.

‘If they reject the injected reality, why not make them perceive it not as reality but as a fictional story?’

Injecting knowledge and information about this world, but guiding them to consider it fictional rather than real.

In Menes’ opinion, this was the only way to inject such vast information without damaging the soul.

Indeed, that judgment was correct.

‘This method was the right answer after all. It’s going very smoothly.’

As Menes had predicted, when he made the otherworldly soul perceive the information being injected through dreams as fiction rather than reality, it accepted it without any resistance.

However, there was one aspect that differed somewhat from Menes’ expectations.

Menes had guided the otherworldly soul to believe it was reading a long novel…

‘…What is this?’

But the content of the dream that soul was having was far from reading.

He had expected the person to be comfortably sitting on a sofa enjoying a book… but what was this?

What Menes saw was a haggard-looking man in a cramped room, guzzling alcohol and staring intently at a rectangular machine.

For Menes, who had entered the dream to observe the soul’s condition, this was a rather perplexing situation.

Of course, Menes hadn’t completely failed to consider the possibility that the dream’s content might differ from his expectations.

From the beginning, concerned that excessive interference might harm the subject’s soul, he had only established the framework of the dream and designed it so the subject’s unconscious would adjust the details.

He simply hadn’t anticipated that the adjustment would result in such a strangely distorted outcome.

‘The knowledge injection itself is working properly… but is this right? This doesn’t look normal at all…’

This was a misalignment caused by the generational gap—no, the cultural disparity between the two.

The methods of “storytelling” that Menes knew were at most novels or plays—or perhaps a minstrel’s songs.

Therefore, Menes thought the otherworldly soul would naturally perceive the indirectly injected story as a novel.

Human unconscious typically prefers comfortable and natural choices.

If the injected information were to be converted into plays or songs, it would take an immense amount of time to appreciate it all, so choosing a novel would be more natural in this case.

However, the world where the otherworldly soul—Ha Sungwha—lived was unlike this world, with abnormally developed information media and entertainment culture.

It was a world overflowing with means to convey stories beyond novels, plays, and songs.

‘I really don’t understand. What is this “game”? What on earth is this person looking at?’

Ha Sungwha’s unconscious accepted the story injected by Menes not as a novel but as a more familiar medium—a game.

A long narrative with various choices, where choosing the wrong option leads to a miserable ending before returning to the moment of choice.

From a modern Earth perspective, this was clearly closer to a game than a novel.

Although Ha Sungwha himself had lived a life disconnected from games, moving between battlefields and terrorist sites, he wasn’t completely ignorant about such things.

Naturally, Ha Sungwha’s unconscious perceived the information it was receiving as a game story.

And combining the incredibly long “playtime” with his physical condition of having lost his legs, it constructed the image of a room-bound gaming addict.

That was the whole story—the cause of this bizarre dream that Menes couldn’t comprehend.

‘…Well, whatever. The information injection itself is going smoothly, so there’s no need to worry about it.’

Of course, from Menes’ perspective, as long as the necessary information was being stably injected, that was all that mattered, so he was merely surprised but didn’t concern himself further.

—-

While three ascended gods focused on injecting Regin’s information into the otherworldly soul, the other three devoted themselves to strengthening the soul itself.

“I’ll engrave my blessing on the soul. So that even when facing overwhelming crises, it won’t easily perish but endure until the end.”

Saulite engraved the blessing of the sun onto that soul.

A blessing that granted tenacious vitality to endure injuries that would kill others, superhuman natural healing ability, and maximized efficiency in receiving healing miracles.

“Then, I shall gift the means to detect and prepare for such crises in advance. Whether to avoid or confront them will be up to this one’s choice, but either way, it will be of great help.”

Ceres bestowed an intuition that keenly detects the scent of death.

So that when faced with a crisis beyond their ability, they could instinctively sense it in advance and prepare for it or avoid it.

Finally, Elpinel planted the soul fragment left by Ausrine as she perished into the otherworldly soul, creating a foundation for new divinity to grow.

Thus, the soul that would become a “hero” was completed, and soon after, all preparations were finished for the body that would house this soul to be born anew.

Of course, being born too early would only repeat Carlos’s precedent, so even after completing the preparations, hundreds of years of waiting were still needed before actual reincarnation.

—-

Hundreds of years later.

Finally judging that the time had come, Elpinel took out the soul and body of the “hero” that had been preserved all this time and attempted to reincarnate it as a fetus on earth.

【 Nothing has changed despite repeated failures. 】

…No, he attempted to reincarnate it.

【 Alfodhr…!! 】

【 Did you truly believe I wouldn’t notice? Such a massive anomaly, the roar that the world spat out as it was torn apart? 】

However, Alfodhr had already noticed what they were up to.

Because the otherworldly soul had been residing within Elpinel’s domain, he couldn’t intervene until now. Alfodhr had been waiting for this moment ever since the dimensional wall was momentarily torn.

The moment when the soul summoned from another world would leave the cradle of Elpinel’s heaven and descend to earth where his power could intervene.

【 I shall gladly accept this invaluable tribute that you have prepared by sacrificing your lives! 】

To steal that soul and use it to his advantage.

【 You can’t…! 】

Of course, the ascended gods hadn’t overlooked the possibility of Alfodhr’s intervention and tried to resist his power in their own way, but…

【 You think you can stop me? That’s impossible. 】

Having consumed vast amounts of divine power to prepare the hero’s soul, it was impossible for them to stop Alfodhr, who had come forward despite Heaven’s Wall’s interference.

The most their resistance achieved was preventing Alfodhr from dragging the stolen soul into his own domain.

They couldn’t prevent him from stuffing that soul into the body of a completely different being rather than the “hero’s body” they had prepared.

A young mixed-blood child from the eastern plains who had just celebrated their second birthday.

Into the body of a monster who, having inherited Vanirgand’s bloodline very strongly, harbored the malevolent star of thousand-killings within the appearance of an innocent little girl.