Chapter 45 : The Sacred Spear That Pierces Ten Thousand Demons

‘There’s no point in me charging into battle wielding this Moonglaive.’

It’s not that I’m underestimating Moonlight Duren’s skill—but my body, the hardware, is simply too lacking.

If I used the Celestial Spear, I might be able to take down one of Baron Squid’s tentacles, but it would just regenerate anyway.

That’s why I decided to use a Tier 1 Orin Language rune—something I had avoided until now due to its extreme Karma consumption.

You can guess the hierarchy from the fact that Titanium is Tier 3 and Sigillum is Tier 2—the higher the tier, the stronger the effect of the Orin Language, but the Karma cost increases exponentially.

I didn’t want to use it unless absolutely necessary, but this was no longer a situation where I could afford to play tactically, like I was in a game.

So, I dropped the Moonglaive beneath the barrier and reactivated the Constellation Ritual.

Iris, grab that spear with your right hand.

Then bite your left index finger to draw blood and transfer control to me.

“What is this spear, Nameless King?”

There’s no time to explain.

Just do as I say.

Iris lifted the Moonglaive as instructed, then bit her left index finger.

In that moment, I took control of her left hand and engraved a Tier 1 Orin rune onto the back of her right hand.

Futurium.

It was a very special power—one that bloomed one of the many possible futures connected to its wielder.

Unlike Titanium or Sigillum, its activation conditions weren’t simple.

But now, in this moment, all the requirements aligned like interlocking gears, and the hieroglyph shaped like an hourglass began to glow.

***

‘Someone is attempting to forcibly connect to my divine sanctuary. Who could it be?’

A different timeline—a distant future where Iris Lunai had learned spear techniques, not swordsmanship.

Iris, instead of forming a contract with a Constellation, chose to accept the spirit Moonlight Duren as her master.

Enduring countless trials, she ultimately achieved the feat of becoming a Constellation herself.

Her Constellation name—The Sacred Spear That Pierces Ten Thousand Demons—was a title feared not only during her lifetime but even now as a Constellation, engraved in terror into the minds of Devil Dolls.

Normally, a Constellation would use their fame to form contracts with gifted Stigma holders and rake in Karma.

But Iris, even after becoming a Constellation, took in no contractors.

Instead, she remained alone in her divine sanctuary, where renowned spears she had collected in life were embedded like quills in a porcupine, and there she simply endured solitude.

Now, an uninvited guest had arrived to disturb that long solitude—but Iris, intrigued, accepted the connection and spoke:”Who are you?”

I am Iris Lunai.

I don’t know who you are, but… would you be willing to lend me your strength?

“What!? Don’t mess with me…”

Even a battle-hardened Constellation like Iris couldn’t help but be shocked—a sudden contact coming from herself, through a Stigma terminal.

But the moment the connection was made through the Stigma, a flood of memories she had never known surged through her like a waterfall, and she realized—the person contacting her truly was her past self.

At that moment, Constellation Iris was forced to confront her own dark past.

Her younger self, who blindly believed protecting the weak was always the right thing, without considering her own capabilities, was once again repeating the same mistakes.

How much trouble had that naive sense of justice caused to those around her?

‘Even if I go back to that time and change the future, it won’t affect this timeline. But maybe… giving my past self a little scolding and having some fun wouldn’t be such a bad idea.’

***

Unlike other Orin Language runes, Futurium’s outcome was difficult even for me to predict.

There was a chance—however small—that it would end up being a complete waste, burning through a mountain of Karma for nothing.

But when I saw Iris, who had never even touched a spear before, now wielding it with remarkable skill, I finally let out a breath of relief and deactivated the Constellation Ritual.

“Her mana pool is barely a speck, but her physical training is decent enough. Well, being needlessly diligent was her only redeeming trait. Is Master Duren doing well?”

“Eh? Oh, well… sort of…”

“So in this life, it seems our paths never crossed. Maybe that’s for the best. He went through so much trouble cleaning up after my messes—it might be nice for him to finally rest in peace.”

Though she wore Iris’s face, the presence standing before me was entirely different.

The moment she glanced at my Stigma and recognized that Moonlight Duren resided within it, cold sweat broke out on my back.

It was true that I had guided her to wield the Moonglaive with some intent, but this future Iris—who had mastered spearmanship instead of swordsmanship—felt like a whole different entity altogether.

And to prove just how far above she was, Iris effortlessly bisected Baron Squid’s tentacles from afar, even while he had been dominating a 3-on-1 fight (against Agent Green, Lieutenant Colonel Anderson, and the female Instructor Han Seongryeong).

Moonlight Spearmanship, Sixth Form: Moonlight Flash Slash

Shlak!

Baron Squid—a grotesque creature with the body of a man and the head of a squid—had been relying entirely on his endlessly regenerating tentacle whiskers to fight.

But the sudden strike sliced them all clean off, and he stumbled backward in shock.

“Kuh! What the hell was that just now…? I was just playing around since it’s been a while since my last fight, but it seems someone’s taking things dangerously seriously. No more games!!”

Baron Squid suddenly vomited a massive stream of ink, thick with dark magic.

From the pool of inky liquid, hundreds—no, thousands—of pitch-black walking piranhas burst forth.

These weren’t ordinary creatures.

This was Squid Ink Spray, Baron Squid’s unique ability.

Not only did each one replicate the exact combat prowess of the original target, but the technique also endlessly produced clones until the dark magic ran out, making it a nightmare to deal with.

But Iris simply looked bored and shifted into a throwing stance.

Moonlight Spearmanship, Ninth Form: Moon Shadow .

“What a pathetic technique. I don’t have time to humor you anymore. Die.”

The moment Iris hurled the Moonglaive, the word “spear technique” became woefully inadequate to describe what happened next.

A massive explosion erupted, so overwhelming that it transcended conventional spearplay.

“Even more astonishing was that the blast harmed neither Agent Green, Lieutenant Colonel Anderson, nor Instructor Han Seongryeong—she emerged unscathed along with the others, while only Baron Squid and his minions were hit, with surgical precision.”

At the deepest point of the giant crater left in the explosion’s wake, Baron Squid lay in ruins—his torso completely obliterated, only part of his head remaining.

As he coughed up a mixture of blood and ink, he finally ceased regenerating and died.

The bloodbath—one they had been ready to sacrifice everything for, even Seoul itself—had ended so anticlimactically that Lieutenant Colonel Anderson muttered in disbelief:

“Well I’ll be damned. Live long enough, and you really do see everything.

I thought I was finally done with this cursed military life… but looks like I’ll be stuck another ten years now.

Let’s see… as expected of a high-ranking Devil Doll, this magic stone is pure as hell.

Hey, miss, I’ve got a dwarf buddy who’s a genius at crafting magi-artifacts out of refined magic stones.

Want me to introduce you?”

“If you’re talking about Grimlach the Shadow Smith, forget it. Everything that weirdo crafts ends up having a few screws loose—I can’t stand even looking at his artifacts.”

Iris blatantly spoke informally to Lieutenant Colonel Anderson, then casually gestured to retrieve both the Moonglaive and Baron Squid’s magic stone.

With a light step, she soared several hundred meters in a single bound, landing atop the barrier beside me.

She handed me both the Moonglaive and the magic stone.

“Take them.”

“Hmm… I can understand taking the Moonglaive, but isn’t the magic stone rightfully your spoil of war? I didn’t do anything to help defeat Baron Squid.”

“You think I don’t know that all of this started with you?

Try lying to my face one more time and I’ll split your tongue in half.

I never heard of a student like you during my time at Pantheon Academy—not during my enrollment, nor even after graduation.

I don’t know how you managed to contact me across timelines, but let me be clear—this trick won’t work a second time.

Don’t think you can get away with such underhanded tactics again.

And one more thing—pass this message on to the Iris Lunaai of this timeline: ‘Justice that charges ahead without thinking is nothing more than evil to someone else.’”

Having unloaded her message unilaterally, the future Iris quietly closed her eyes.

And when the real Iris regained control of her body, she collapsed against me, utterly drained of magical energy.

Her lips had turned a deep purple, a sign that the future Iris had used every last drop of her strength without the slightest regard for her past self’s condition.

I didn’t know how to perform qi-based healing or anything of the sort, so all I could do was offer my thigh as a pillow and let her rest quietly.

But that peace didn’t last long.

There was a sudden, unwelcome disturbance—reporters, somehow having found their way up the barrier, started snapping photos like mad.

Click click!

There was no way news of Baron Squid’s death had spread this quickly—these people must’ve really risked their lives to get here.

Still, hey—stop taking duo shots, you crazy people!