Something spreading uncontrollably from an unreachable distance. The process varied, yet the result was always the same. People called all such things a ‘calamity.’
A black wave that shattered the pinnacle of the Demon King’s castle, surged to the edge of the sky, and soon began spreading across the entire continent. Perhaps it was natural to label this chilling torrent of dark magic as a calamity.
“We couldn’t stop it…?”
The hero had only one goal. To defeat the Demon King and prevent magic from corrupting the world. Countless lives had been risked for this sole purpose.
“Did you truly believe you could stop me?”
An arrogant, cruel voice hammered an unwanted truth into reality.
Though the Demon King’s voice echoed directly behind him, the hero could no longer raise his sword.
The sacred sword had already shattered.
“Pathetic. And here I thought you were my sole adversary.”
Demon King Daerex—he who shattered the boundary between life and death, who returned from death itself, stretching out his hands in revenge against the world. By destroying the hero’s sacred sword, Daerex had broken his final restraint, surpassing the realm of demon kings to become a Demon God.
The hero’s instincts, forged through countless battles, screamed not to provoke him further. One slight gesture from Daerex would mean certain death.
But was there any choice other than fighting? Escape was impossible. Even crawling shamefully and begging for his life would mean existing in a world corrupted by dark magic—a literal hell.
There was no choice.
Even if there were, the hero’s choice would not change.
In the next moment, the hero’s hand gripped the dagger that had been strapped to his belt.
Despite his wounded body, his movements were swift and agile.
Refusing to miss his final chance, the hero summoned every last ounce of strength, thrusting the dagger toward Daerex’s throat.
However…
Crackle—
The dagger disintegrated into ashes before it reached Daerex’s throat.
‘Impossible…’
A moment earlier, it might have connected. No, it certainly would have.
But now, against the current Daerex, it was impossible.
“How shameful. To think I struggled against this…”
It was only natural. Human tools couldn’t harm someone who ascended to the realm of gods.
Despair flashed through the hero’s eyes.
Yet Daerex didn’t kill him. Instead, he turned his back on him.
Four grotesque pairs of black wings spread simultaneously from Daerex’s back.
Their mere gust split the floor of the Demon King’s castle.
“Ugh!”
Simply remaining standing felt like it would shatter every bone in his body. The hero shouted desperately.
“Where… where are you going?!”
“To Heaven. I have no further business on Earth.”
Daerex’s wings curved momentarily, then launched him skyward with a gale-force wind.
The hero’s eyes trembled in despair.
Heaven was where the Creator Goddess dwelled. Daerex could not be allowed to reach it.
“Come back, Daerex! Your fight is with me! Now—”
His desperate cry was cut off by violent coughing. He repeatedly spat blood onto the castle floor.
The dark magic spreading throughout the continent was invading his body, causing excruciating pain to wrack his form.
“Cough… Ugh!”
“The time to fight has already passed.”
Enduring pain as if his nerves were burning, the hero barely raised his head.
Daerex floated in mid-air, backlit by radiant light.
Though Daerex’s eyes should have been obscured by shadows, somehow, the hero felt their gazes meet.
“Now is the time to end everything.”
“At the end of it all… nothing will remain! Not even you!”
“Yes, precisely my wish.”
The hero flinched.
Daerex, seemingly losing all interest, turned away from him.
“Die in the realization of your helplessness, Hero Marcel.”
With those final words, Daerex vanished.
Simultaneously, Marcel’s vision stained red as blood filled his eyes.
He wept tears of blood, sobbing.
He failed.
Because he was weak, lacking strength.
The journey thus far, the countless sacrifices—all had come to nothing.
Just as Marcel was about to surrender to overwhelming despair…
Crackle—
Vitality began to surge through Marcel’s body.
“…!”
Platinum hair swaying gently with each step, small stature often mistaken for youth, eyes that never ceased shining regardless of circumstances.
That woman walked forward through the torrent of corrupted magic, still radiating pure light.
Bearer of the staff imbued with Goddess Sunya’s power, the master of Angelos Rod.
Saint Isabel.
“Isabel… You’re alive…?”
“Trust me, Hero.”
Marcel wiped away his bloody tears, looking clearly at Isabel for the first time.
Only then did he realize Isabel was just as gravely wounded as he was.
Blood continued streaming from her eyes, nose, and mouth. Moreover, one of her eyes had already been lost in her battle with Daerex.
Yet, despite it all, Isabel smiled innocently as she always had throughout their journey.
“I can resolve this.”
“You… resolve this?”
Impossible.
The Demon King had become a Demon God and begun an assault on Heaven.
This was exactly what the Creator Goddess Sunya feared most.
Daerex would kill Sunya, and the world would collapse without its god.
So, how could Isabel—a saint but ultimately just a human—solve this?
Yet Isabel’s next words were shocking.
“The Goddess has answered me. She will send back to the past, before all this began, to save everyone with my own strength.”
Marcel’s eyes widened in shock.
“To the past…? Is that even possible?”
Did he mishear? Isabel clearly said ‘with my own strength.’
Her own strength?
Marcel felt a dreadful premonition, familiar whenever Isabel spoke carelessly.
Isabel smiled brightly, clenching her fist.
“Hero, I’m going back to the past. Please cheer for me!”
“What?”
Terror filled Marcel’s face.
This was something that absolutely must not happen.
Marcel sweated more profusely now than when witnessing Daerex’s transformation.
“If… if someone must go back… it should be me rather than Isabel—”
“You can’t, Hero. You’re not a saint. This miracle comes directly from the Goddess.”
“Then someone else… or another priest—”
“We’re the only ones left alive, Hero. All the other priests are dead. Don’t you remember?”
“Then…”
“Then… it really has to be me, Isabel…”
Bloody tears streamed down Marcel’s face.
Now, he felt a despair deeper than before.
“Don’t worry! I’ll change the future. I’ll ensure everyone survives and smiles again!”
Marcel staggered, collapsing onto his hands.
“Why… why does it have to be Isabel…?”
Repeating “why,” Marcel slowly lost consciousness. Isabel gently stroked his head.
Yet Isabel wondered—why did the hero make such a face? She thought he’d rejoice at the news.
Her questions ended there. She didn’t even ponder the meaning behind Marcel’s “why.” Such was simply her nature.
***
Heaven—the Divine Realm, situated in its deepest part. From there, alongside the Goddess, I watched as the world faced destruction.
People, their bodies corrupted by dark magic, melting away without even the strength to scream. The earth cracking open, lava surging forth, and liquefied dark magic raining from above—a literal hellscape.
It was a horrifying sight. Simply witnessing it was painful enough.
Thus, I turned my eyes elsewhere—to Saint Isabel, the sole remaining hope of this world now that even the hero had fallen.
Yet, watching Isabel didn’t exactly ease my mind.
“…Are you really planning to send her back in time?”
“Yes, Watcher.”
Surrounded by mystical radiance, the Goddess offered me a sorrowful smile.
Sunya, the Creator Goddess from the web novel “An Old Tale,” looked exactly as described in the book.
Her dignified yet beautiful features, gently lowered eyelids, and benevolent smile.
When I first awoke after losing consciousness, I found myself face-to-face with Sunya.
At that moment, I realized I had entered the world of my favorite novel.
Initially, I celebrated, believing my tedious life of illness was finally over. But now…
‘I can’t smile…’
Indeed, I couldn’t smile at all.
I was the only reader who followed “An Old Tale” right up until its serialization abruptly halted near the ending.
Thus, I knew—anyone else returning to the past would undoubtedly handle the second attempt far better than Isabel.
“Goddess, reconsider your decision. No matter how I look at it, sending her back isn’t right.”
“Didn’t you hear Isabel’s explanation? She’s the only one capable of receiving my power to return.”
“I know, but…”
Damn it, even sending back a random goblin would be better.
“She’s just an idiot. Aside from overflowing divine power, she’s clueless and naive.”
“She’s not a child. Isabel is an adult, though her stature might be small.”
“Who doesn’t know that? Anyway… you’re seriously sending back the girl who thinks spiders grow on trees?”
A look resembling resignation briefly crossed Sunya’s face.
Ridiculous.
“Come on, Goddess. Honestly, even you don’t trust her.”
Sunya subtly turned her head. Even the almighty Creator Goddess could feel embarrassed, it seemed.
I understood why the hero cried. How could one not despair when the world’s fate depended on someone like her?
“Watcher, that’s precisely why your help is needed.”
“What?”
Still desperately avoiding eye contact, Sunya spoke calmly.
“By my authority as Creator Goddess Sunya, I appoint you as Isabel’s Personal Angel. You, who’ve watched their journey from another world, guide Isabel onto the correct path.”
Ah, a Personal Angel.
So, that’s why I was summoned.
In “An Old Tale,” a Personal Angel was an angel who directly communicated with a single chosen priest among many on earth.
If I became Isabel’s Personal Angel, she’d represent my will on earth.
So Sunya was asking me to help Isabel through her second chance.
It made sense. If time rewound, even the Goddess herself wouldn’t remember these events, so my knowledge from reading “An Old Tale” multiple times would be necessary.
But why would I do that?
“That just means babysitting that idiot. No thanks!”
It was absurd—both Sunya’s offer and her expression upon my refusal.
With such sorrowful eyes, she made me feel like the villain.
“You really… won’t help?”
Sunya’s pleading voice weakened my resolve.
I understood why she had shown me the corrupted world—to burden my conscience.
But still, I refused.
If it were helping the hero, maybe. Assisting Isabel would only drive me insane.
“Yeah, no way. Why put myself through that misery? I’d rather wait for my disease to heal—”
But at that very moment—
Crack!
The Divine Realm shattered.
Suddenly, a black hand pierced through empty space, shattering the barrier separating Heaven from the Divine Realm, and stabbed Sunya through the back.
“Sunya!”
I shouted in shock.
The gentle warmth vanished instantly through the fissure, which grew larger, engulfing the Divine Realm in murky darkness. A massive, black shadow slowly emerged.
Sunya closed her eyes in agony.
Demon King—no, Demon God Daerex appeared in full form, bursting into wild laughter.
“Ahahaha—!”
Just like in the novel. Grey skin, intimidating eyes, fiery black armor—a living disaster whose mere presence invoked death and terror.
The embodiment of absolute evil, who had overcome death itself by believing that killing a god required becoming one first, now stood before me, having impaled the Creator Goddess.
It was shocking.
I had felt an immutable transcendence from Sunya, confident nothing could ever harm her or invade her sacred realm.
Yet Daerex easily shattered that belief. Witnessing a truth I considered unshakeable collapse before me felt utterly terrifying.
Yes, I was afraid.
Ah, Daerex, previously merely a fictional character, was genuinely terrifying.
Yet oddly, Daerex didn’t attack me—he didn’t even seem to notice me. Laughing while still impaling Sunya, he covered his mouth with his other hand.
“I can’t stop laughing, Sunya, you helpless creator. Were you watching the world’s ruin from here?”
Sunya didn’t respond. Instead, she turned her head desperately, gazing at me.
She expected something from me.
Damn it, what are you doing? Just send Isabel back already!
Sunya was still alive. She could reverse time, erasing Daerex’s invasion.
But she hesitated, waiting for me to change my answer.
‘What a cheap move…’
Knowing Isabel alone couldn’t manage a second attempt, Sunya awaited my consent.
A plea for help.
That gaze wasn’t directed solely at me but also reflected the world’s destruction behind me.
Damn it, what do you expect from me?
Dragged suddenly into this novel’s world, was she threatening to let us all die if I didn’t help?
Blackmail at its finest.
“I’ll do it.”
I said it aloud. Daerex didn’t seem to hear, so I shouted again.
“I said I’ll do it!”
Sunya’s eyes trembled.
I had to admit, her tactic worked perfectly. I truly loved “An Old Tale.”
Watching it crumble hurt deeply.
I’d desperately wished for a satisfying ending.
I didn’t know how the novel ended since its serialization stopped abruptly.
But as its sole reader, I couldn’t accept Daerex destroying the world.
I would stop it.
I didn’t yet know how to guide Isabel, but I’d find a way.
At least, as Sunya said, being a Personal Angel would ensure my survival.
Compared to languishing in a hospital, awaiting death, this was infinitely better.
“I’ll take responsibility for that idiot’s growth, so hurry up! Before you die from having your stomach pierced!”
“Thank you, Watcher…”
“Watcher? Who are you speaking to, Sunya?”
Daerex, previously confident, now showed suspicion. As Sunya raised her hand, Daerex swiftly severed it.
“Sunya!”
“Whatever you’re planning, it won’t succeed.”
I thought all was lost. But Sunya’s severed hand didn’t fall—it floated upward, radiating blinding light that engulfed the shattered realm.
“How…!”
Daerex’s shocked voice, Sunya’s silent smile through tear-filled eyes—
These were my final memories before consciousness slipped away.
Cliche Novel 