"Good afternoon, Aluka. Have you eaten?"

"That roasted whole lamb last time was really delicious."

Moen stood on the squirming flesh and blood beneath him, gazing down at Aluka.

All his killing intent was concealed, all his hostility discarded. Moen smiled gently, wiping the blood off his face, as if he were visiting an old acquaintance. His eyes were tender and warm.

The sunlight was soft and comforting, and he stood backlit, enveloped by a divine corona.

"Ah..."

Aluka gazed at Moen numbly, as if the smile at Moen's lips had smoothed over her anger. Her fair and strikingly beautiful face now appeared tranquil.

"Mr. Moen, are you finally here to accept my love?"

"I will never accept your love," Moen replied.

"Why? Could it be... that my love isn't enough?"

Aluka's eyes widened in confusion.

"But I've given everything—my blood, my flesh, my soul. Are those... still not enough?

I just want you all to stay with me forever. I just want you all to accept my love.

But why? Why is it that neither my master nor you are willing?"

"Of course we aren’t willing," Moen murmured softly, lowering his eyes.

"Because that's not love at all."

"Not love..."

Aluka whispered, then her expression twisted into fury, as though she'd suffered immense humiliation.

"Nonsense! Nonsense! This is love! This is love!

Look—everyone who's accepted my love is so happy!"

The countless faces surrounding Aluka erupted into furious screams once more, and a cacophony of "I love you" merged into a tidal wave of sound, drowning everything in its path.

The dismembered bodies, shattered by the man earlier, regenerated again, like predatory sea anemones, surging toward Moen.

"Come now, Mr. Moen, let's be together forever! My love is infinite!" Aluka smiled, obsessively staring at Moen's face. Her expression was that of a girl gazing at her beloved.

But how could Moen possibly be her beloved?

Her true beloved should’ve been someone else.

Moreover, love could never be infinite.

Only love for the one truly cherished could be called love.

"As I thought, trying to wake you up with mere words was a naïve dream," Moen sighed softly.

He lifted his eyes, the gentleness wiped away, replaced by cold resolve.

He no longer paid attention to the dangers behind him, confident that Ann, who had freed her hands, would protect his back without fail.

Thus, Moen tightened his grip on the short knife and stabbed it fiercely into both sides of Aluka's head.

"Ah!"

Aluka's face contorted with a horrific scream, as if for the first time ever, she was truly experiencing pain.

The immense body of the monster thrashed violently, and the squirming flesh beneath Moen's feet moved wildly, like ocean waves stirred by a tempest.

It sought to throw Moen off balance.

"Ann!"

No detailed words were needed. A bridge of steel suddenly pierced through the monster's flesh, halting firmly under Moen's feet.

With solid footing, Moen took a deep breath and swung his twin blades downward viciously.

Massive wounds were slashed into both sides of Aluka's head, and the interwoven crimson flesh within frantically regenerated, far faster than anywhere else, as if it was hiding something.

"It looks like this is the right spot," Moen murmured, a faint smile curling at the corners of his mouth. He abruptly released his grip on the short knives and plunged his hands into the grotesque wounds.

The monster's blood corroded his arms, yet Moen seemed entirely unaffected, his hands searching continuously through the flesh.

The monster screamed, growing increasingly manic, but all its attacks were desperately blocked by Ann, who clenched her teeth tightly—she would never allow any harm to come to her young master again.

At last, Moen felt something hard.

"No! No! No! No! Stop! Stop!"

The moment his fingers touched the object, unprecedented terror filled Aluka's eyes.

She shrieked frantically, desperate to make Moen stop. But, reduced to just a head, what could she possibly do?

She could no longer even grasp her beloved wand.

And the one who swore to protect her had become one of those lifeless faces mindlessly chanting "I love you."

Moen's smile grew brighter, though his gaze was tinged with sorrow.

"I finally got you, you damned dark god!"

Moen withdrew his hands from the flesh.

In his palm, he held tightly onto a statue.

It was of a girl embracing a heart, as though she were trying to press it firmly against her chest.

Although plucked from blood and gore, the statue bore no trace of blood. Instead, it emanated a sacred light, creating an irresistible urge to kneel and worship.

Yes, this was undoubtedly the source of the corruption!

Now, it only needed to be destroyed, and everything could be brought to an end.

"Ann!"

In truth, Moen’s shout wasn’t necessary at all. Ann had been closely monitoring him, ready to act the moment the statue was thrown into the air.

As soon as Moen hurled the statue upward, a metal forest collided into it, crashing like runaway trucks on city streets.

Endless iron enveloped the statue, twisting and compressing with force, as though a massive hydraulic press was grinding repeatedly. Finally, sharp blades spun rapidly, shredding the statue along with the metal into fragments.

The metal reformed swiftly under Ann’s control, but the statue’s remains could not regenerate. Scattered to the wind amidst the autumn roar, its remnants disappeared entirely without a trace.

True annihilation—nothing was left behind.

"It’s over."

Moen finally exhaled deeply at the sight.

It was over, at last.

But as soon as he relaxed mentally, exhaustion swept over him like a tidal wave.

He stumbled, nearly collapsing to the ground.

Thankfully, he managed to steady himself against the monster’s corpse.

"Disgusting."

Moen straightened his stance, shook his hand with revulsion, and looked around for something to clean off the monster's blood and slime. It was then that he suddenly realized—

He was still wearing that darned beast-skin skirt.

"Honestly, how did Ann manage bitch about this?"

The thought of being a heroic figure clad in tiger-skin was utterly unbearable.

But, ultimately, no one would care.

After all, the living creatures here... it was only Ann and himself left.

Moen glanced at Aluka's closed eyes and the faces that had stopped chanting "I love you." Bitterly smiling, he waved toward the approaching Ann in the distance, ready to say something—

He suddenly froze.

Wait, something wasn’t right.

If the medium through which the dark god projected its power had been destroyed, why was the monster’s body still intact?

This abomination was clearly a patchwork creation held together by the dark god’s power. Without that force, shouldn’t it have disintegrated immediately?

Could it be that—

"Don’t come any closer!"

Moen shouted at Ann before swiftly turning his head.

And as he turned, he heard a faint dripping sound.

A drop of pure black liquid, from an unknown origin, fell onto Aluka’s forehead.

There was no time to stop it.

Aluka’s eyes opened.

Her eyes were wholly black—no whites, no pupils, just an abyssal void.