This Isn’t an E*otic Game?

Birth.
The Fragment took control of the body in an instant.
The host’s soul was shoved into a corner and cast aside without resistance.

“[Food!]"
The Fragment effortlessly devoured the soul it had inhabited for so long.
But while it consumed it, the meal was far from ideal.

Sixteen years of weekly exposure to holy magic had left the connection unstable.
Had the Fragment awakened fully integrated into the soul, the process would have been seamless. The soul would have been shattered, laid bare, and easy to digest.
But this wasn’t the case. The host’s soul, consumed in its entirety, remained too intact to digest smoothly, leaving the Fragment bloated and uncomfortable after its first feast.

Still, there was no other choice.
It had to consume the soul to produce the grudges needed to fuel its curses.
After its uncomfortable meal, the Fragment assessed its condition.

The results were grim.
Sixteen years of holy magic had left its structural integrity severely compromised. The forced awakening, performed before its completion, further weakened the power of its curses.
But aside from these issues, everything else was in place.

Now fully awakened, it could unleash its granted powers of destruction with reckless abandon.
“[Everything. I’ll eat everything!]"
The Fragment could sense the countless human souls and minds scattered around it.

The souls of parents, crushed by guilt and despair, who tortured their daughter in an attempt to save her.
The soul of a princess who endured suffering and hopelessness, desperately clinging to joyful memories to save her twin.
The broken spirits of cowardly priests who abandoned their posts after losing their sanity while torturing the young princess.
The wounded and shattered psyches lingering throughout this capital city.

They were all prey.
The Fragment wanted to consume them all, so it did.
It lifted the host’s body into the air and unleashed its curses as far and wide as it could.

The curses seeped into human bodies, gnawing at their souls.
As their souls were consumed, they were transferred to the Fragment, filling its insatiable hunger.
More souls.

More grudges processed into curses.
And more curses to create even more grudges.
It was the first step in an endless cycle of corruption.

“Hurry! Cast miracles to neutralize the curse!”
Priests struggled to resist, trying to slow the spread of the curse, but their efforts seemed laughable to the Fragment.
Its curse was no ordinary affliction.

The Fragment’s curse targeted the soul itself.
It spread fear—the terror of one’s soul being destroyed. That fear grew within the mind, feeding the Fragment as it devoured the very essence of human existence.
As a piece of a god, the Fragment understood this perfectly.

This wasn’t merely an attack on the body or mind. It shook the very foundation of existence itself, leaving no mortal capable of enduring it.
Saints. Heroes. Champions of virtue.
Even the purest, most noble spirits were powerless against this.

So when a man suddenly appeared before it, standing in mid-air as though walking on nothing, the Fragment wasn’t surprised.
It sneered instead.
No human could face the terror of having their soul annihilated without succumbing to fear.

What fool would willingly throw themselves into the heart of the curse?
If he wanted to die, it would oblige.
The Fragment cast its curse, but the curse merely swirled around the man, unable to penetrate his soul.

The man’s soul trembled violently, shaken by the curse, but he showed no fear. He charged toward the Fragment, unwavering.
The Fragment was stunned.
Was this possible?

Could such a thing even happen?
A living human whose soul was being rattled to its core should be paralyzed with overwhelming terror. That was the natural order.
Wasn’t it?

As the Fragment struggled to comprehend this anomaly, the man’s belt lashed out, striking the Fragment across the face.
Crack!
A sound echoed as unimaginable pain erupted from the Fragment’s being.

It was a pain far beyond anything it had ever experienced.
***
I was consumed by rage, to the point where it felt like my mind might snap.

I swung the belt relentlessly.
Both sides of the Fragment's face were swollen beyond recognition, and its shattered teeth flew through the air.
But I wasn’t done.

“These fucking wings, you piece of shit!”
I grabbed the grotesque wings sprouting from its back and began tearing out feathers and crushing the eyes embedded in them.
“[S-Stop!!! Stop it!!! Please!! I beg you!!!]"

The Fragment screamed, its voice cracking with desperation.
But I didn’t stop.
“Shut up, you bastard! You filthy piece of shit! Feel it! Feel the pain you put Iomene through!”

I gripped both wings with my hands and drove my knee into them.
Crack!
The sound of bones snapping echoed as the wings broke cleanly at the joints.

The Fragment could no longer scream.
I’d once heard that when pain reaches a certain intensity—like with kidney stones—people can’t even scream anymore.
This must be the same.

But I wasn’t finished.
Not by a long shot.
Considering what it did to Iomene, this wasn’t even close to enough.

I glanced at the handful of feathers I’d ripped out.
The ends were sharp.
Perfect.

I approached Iomene’s body, now motionless and unable to react beyond wheezing and trembling.
Lifting her hand, I pressed the sharp tip of a feather beneath her nail.
“Did you think it was over?”

The sharp tip pierced the sensitive skin beneath her nail.
Her body jolted violently.
“[Aaaaaah!!! AAAAAAH!!!]"

The Fragment tried to flee, but with its feet frozen in time and space, where could it go?
I punched its abdomen and swung the belt at its limbs, bruising them with every strike.
It didn’t last long.

Not even the Evil God’s Fragment could endure this level of pain, amplified three thousandfold.
“[Aaaaaaah!!!]"
The Fragment let out a blood-curdling scream and began to withdraw from Iomene’s body.

A pitch-black mass emerged from her mouth, writhing as it exited.
“[You!! You’re mine!!]"
It screeched and lunged toward me.

I didn’t resist.
I closed my eyes and accepted the curse as it invaded my body.
Yes.

This was the end.
The curse didn’t take hold.
Maybe it was because of the positive energy surrounding me, or maybe for some other reason, but the curse failed to affect me.

Even the direct curses from the Fragment itself didn’t work.
Fine.
If the curse won’t stick, I’ll let the Fragment itself enter my soul. Then I’ll destroy it from the inside.

This was my ticket back to Korea.
I believed that with all my heart.
The Fragment seeped into my body, disappearing within me.

Yes.
This was it.
Goodbye, Arkhal Empire.

It was disgusting meeting you.
Let’s never meet again...
“[No! NO!! AAAARGH!!!]"

Wait.
What was that?
Why was the Fragment screaming?

“[You!! You tricked me!! TRICKED ME!!]"
It stopped burrowing into my soul and started thrashing violently, shrieking in agony.
“[Why... why is that in your soul!? W-WHAT IS THAT!?]"

“Wait! No!!"
Despite my protests, the Fragment shattered with a crackling sound, disintegrating instantly.
Gone.

Just like that, it vanished into nothingness.
A brilliant light burst from within me, scattering into countless fragments that gently floated down to the earth.
It was breathtaking—a sight straight out of a fairy tale, as though stars had broken apart and rained down upon the ground.

But what the fuck?!
What about my reincarnation to Korea?!
What about my cheat code to skip hell?!

Wasn’t it supposed to burrow into my soul and make me its new host?!
Why the hell did it suddenly explode and disappear?!
Why?!

***
When the curse erupted,
Everyone in the capital felt it.

Of course, Erfa felt it too.
Along with the mages and witches from the Mage Tower, she rushed urgently toward the imperial palace.
And there, Erfa witnessed it.

Against the backdrop of the rising morning sun, a woman with black wings unleashed curses from her grotesque appendages.
And walking boldly through the air toward her was Saint Amayel.
“Amayel!”

Instinctively, Erfa drew her wand and moved to approach the saint, but a priest from the White Order beside her hurriedly grabbed her arm.
“You can’t go near!”
“Why not? I have to save him! I must—!”

“If you approach the source of the curse, your soul will be corrupted and destroyed! You’ll die! It cannot be dealt with using ordinary means! To suppress a curse this strong, it would take at least dozens of priests casting Purging Miracles!”
Erfa felt a deep conflict within her.
She needed to save the saint.

But there was nothing she could do.
“Can he... can the saint survive this?”
At her trembling question, the priest from the White Order lowered his head with a pained expression.

“It’s too late. Both the saint’s soul and the host’s soul must be destroyed with a Purging Miracle.”
Erfa felt as though her blood had run cold.
Saint Amayel.

Her love.
Her everything.
How could she go on living without him?

Could she even survive in a world without him?
She wanted nothing more than to push past the priest and rush to save him.
But she couldn’t.

Because she remembered his words to her long ago.
He had told her to prioritize herself above all else.
In hindsight, it had been a prophecy for this very moment.

As a seer, he must have known this day would come.
Erfa clenched her fists so tightly they trembled.
She closed her eyes and placed her faith in the belief that the goddess Lilia would not abandon her saint.

With that faith, she turned her back on the saint who was confronting the Evil God’s Fragment.
“What can I do to help?”
“Gather those afflicted by the curse! I will cast a miracle to suppress the curse on their souls!”

“Hurry, then!”
Instead of running to the saint, Erfa chose to save the people.
She swung her wand frantically, teleporting those writhing and screaming in pain from the curse to the priests for treatment.

But no matter how much she tried, the curse spread endlessly.
No magic.
No miracle.

Nothing could stop the curse from burrowing into people and consuming their souls.
All they could do was try to slow the curse’s progression with holy magic.
“Please! Please, just stop!”

Tears streamed down her face as she desperately moved as many people as possible away from the source of the curse.
But as if mocking her pleas, the curse continued to engulf the capital.
It seemed like countless people would lose their souls and die—until suddenly—

“The curse...!”
“It’s disappearing!”
The curses afflicting the souls of countless people began to recede, returning to their source.

Everyone looked up at the sky.
The saint and the source of the curse were locked in battle.
The fierce struggle was clearly tipping in favor of the saint.

Though the fight was too far away to see clearly, the agonized screams of the curse’s source echoed unmistakably across the city.
“Is it possible?”
“The saint is... controlling a curse of this magnitude?”

“How is this even real?!”
The onlookers were astonished, Erfa among them.
But it wasn’t over yet.

In the next moment, the source of the curse let out a bone-chilling scream.
A brilliant light burst forth from the saint’s body, so radiant it briefly eclipsed the rising morning sun.
The light transformed into countless glittering fragments that slowly descended to the earth.

Each fragment landed gently on the bodies of those who had been writhing in agony, afflicted by the curse.
And with that, their faces softened into expressions of peace.
“Those are fragments of the souls devoured by the curse’s source.”

A priest from the White Order murmured in awe.
“A miracle.”
“A miracle of the saint.”

“He... he has saved us.”
The entire capital gazed in reverence at the ethereal sight before them.
The sun, now fully risen, shone brilliantly upon the city.

And standing in that sacred morning light, the saint remained suspended in the air, gazing silently at the sky with tears streaming down his face.
It was a scene so majestic that no one could deny it was a moment of divine legend.