Refining Returning Moment Nyx was relatively easy—at least on the surface.
Compared to the deeper variables of time path, it barely scratched the surface of what the path truly represented. The paradoxes, the causal collapses, the self-put loops
referential loops that erased even immortal minds… those were the real nightmares. Returning moment was simple in comparison.
…
The refinement was easy for Naro especially, because he had spent an unfathomable amount of time studying time path. In his previous life, time itself had been his teacher. He had wasted years. Countless immortal resources had been burned away just to slightly raise his understanding, just to upgrade himself a fraction further within time path.
That knowledge had never disappeared.
The refinement took half a day.
When it ended, the Nyx settled inside him with unsettling smoothness, as if it had always belonged there, as if time itself acknowledged him.
Naro opened his eyes.
He was ready.
Dracula, however, felt none of that confidence.
He was worried—not for Naro, but for himself.
Who knew what would happen once returning moment was activated? Who knew if the two of them would be trapped inside an infinite loop of death? Dying again and again, with no exit, no end, no mercy.
Dracula would have done anything to stop this. But he had no power.
All he could do was trust Naro.
And endure whatever pain followed.
…
Naro returned to the Asrith Sacrifice Nyx cave.
Blue gem-lights bloomed across the cave walls once more, identical to before.
He reached the water reflection area.
The surface was perfectly still.
Then as he walked—
Step.
Naro stepped into the other side of the reflection.
The world inverted.
The gem-lights turned red again. The air grew heavier. The guardian's eye shone with gold; piercing with a merciless gaze.
The guardian stood in front of Naro.
It was back to its first phase.
White-golden armor.
This time, Naro passed it easily—far easier than before. He had learned. He had memorized. He recognized pitch sounds here and there, dodging before attacks even fully manifested.
Then—
The second phase.
The white armor melted away, flowing like molten metal, revealing black and gold beneath.
Naro activated returning moment Nyx.
His intent was absolute.
It will not break until I beat this guardian.
There was no escape now.
No way to retreat.
Naro had to memorize the guardian's patterns perfectly, or else he would be trapped inside an infinite death loop.
"Sigh…" Dracula sighed deeply.
"What kind of fucked-up fate did I stumble myself into…."
"You brought this on yourself." Naro replied, smiling faintly. His eyes were filled with determination.
"Don't worry. Just endure… we WILL die a couple of times."
The guardian sang.
Many pitches played at once.
It was almost beautiful.
Almost.
The melody was different from last time.
Naro didn't recognize the rhythm.
The attacks began.
He was overwhelmed.
There was no escape.
Naro was beaten into meat paste.
Naro was dead.
…
A flash of light.
A sound so loud yet so incomprehensible that it couldn't be called sound at all tore through Naro's and Dracula's minds.
They were back.
Then now for the second phase—
The white armor melted away as the guardian entered the second phase. It was black and golden again.
"That was very messed up," Dracula muttered, his voice shaking.
"But… the rebirth felt nicer than I thought it would."
The same angelic song played.
Naro focused.
He had already memorized the first couple of attacks.
He dodged.
Again.
And again.
He knew what was coming—
Then—
A new sound orchestrated.
Naro was beaten into meat paste.
…
Light flashed.
Incomprehensible sounds played.
Again.
This time, Naro endured slightly longer.
New pitch.
Death.
Again.
Death.
Again.
Death.
Naro kept dying.
At times, he screamed at Dracula to memorize the pitches, to help when he was overwhelmed. At other times, doubt crept in—maybe using returning moment nyx had been a mistake.
But he never stopped.
Sometimes, even when he knew the pitch, he still died.
A delayed step.
A wrong angle.
A moment of hesitation.
Death.
…
Weeks passed.
Dracula and Naro worked together now.
Dracula memorized the pitches—not for Naro's sake, but for his own survival. If this loop never ended, he would rather understand it than drown in it.
They dodged more.
They survived longer.
Still—
A new pitch.
Naro was dead.
…
Months passed.
The mental torture reshaped Naro.
His martial arts evolved, not through training, but through repetition. Pure instinct replaced thought. He began predicting incoming moves without even recognizing the pitch sounds.
At this point, Naro had died over 100,000 times.
Still, he died.
But his progress was undeniable.
The guardian's helmet cracked.
He was close.
…
More days passed.
Death followed death.
Then—
Light flashed, Naro was rebirthed by returning moment.
The second phase began again before Naro's eyes.
White and gold melted to Black and gold.
The first pitch played.
Naro didn't open his eyes.
He dodged.
Perfectly.
Second pitch.
Third.
Fourth.
Evaded.
Countered.
Struck.
His movements flowed like water, seamless and calm. A rank 5 Nyx mortal moving with reflexes capable of contesting immortals.
Strike after strike landed.
The helmet cracked further.
The guardian's attacks grew ferocious.
Dracula shouted callouts.
Naro adjusted mid-motion.
Not once was he hit.
This was the run.
Months of death condensed into a single flawless sequence.
For the first time—
They were not dying nor taking any hits.
And in that moment, both Naro and Dracula felt that they had a chance.
Naro continued to flow like water, dodging wave after wave of incoming pitches. Some attacks he avoided cleanly, others he parried, and at times he met the guardian head-on, the two clashing until they reached deadlocked ground, neither backing down.
The sound of metal echoed endlessly.
The fight had been going on for two full hours now.
Then—
The guardian released a new pitch.
Neither Naro nor Dracula recognized it.
Naro had been through this mess for months.
More than one hundred thousand deaths.
Even with his abnormally strong mentality, he was reaching his limit. Not physically—his body had died too many times for that to matter—but mentally. If he lost after coming this far, after surviving such a clean run… Naro didn't know how deep his mind would crack next.
Dracula was in an even worse situation.
At times, he stayed completely silent, distant, as if he wasn't even there anymore. At other times, he forced himself to speak, to shout, to help—clearly struggling to stay sane. There were runs where Naro deliberately ran away again and again, fully aware that doing so would reset the loop, just to give Dracula time to recover mentally.
Every time Naro retreated, the loop reset.
Progress erased.
But at least Dracula survived.
Naro didn't do this for Dracula's sake. He still needed Dracula's soul. Without it, he wouldn't be able to withstand the burden of Immortal Light Travel Nyx in the future.
It was cruel.
With every pitch memorized, they got slightly further.
But with every step forward, their mental state worsened.
Now—
A new pitch rang out.
Dracula's soul wavered.
Naro panicked.
There was no preparation. No memory to help.
He had to face this sequence completely blind.
The first attack came instantly—a kick, the guardian slamming both arms into the ground and launching forward. Naro ducked downwards, barely evading it.
The second attack followed immediately. The guardian twisted mid-motion, using the momentum from the first kick to chain into another. Naro barely dodged again.
The third attack—
A feint.
Naro almost reacted.
Almost died.
But months inside this loop had carved instinct into his bones. His body screamed that something was wrong. He stopped himself just in time.
Then—
The guardian struck with its sword.
Naro parried.
Clang.
In that instant, realization hit.
Three notes…
Same spacing.
Same tone.
Sword-based follow-ups.
Naro adapted mid-battle.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Each strike was parried one after another. Dracula's soul gasped inside Naro's mind, shocked.
Naro countered.
Again.
Again.
Again.
His staff smashed into the guardian's helm repeatedly—
Until—
BOOM.
The helmet cracked.
For a moment, everything went silent.
The guardian staggered.
Then—
A loud orchestra of sound erupted.
"No—no way!" Dracula shouted in fear. "There's no way it has a third phase!?"
But this time, the music felt different.
It wasn't violent.
It was calm.
Almost soothing.
Like the guardian was saying something.
Then the music faded.
The guardian melted away.
Naro felt the Returning Moment Nyx release him.
The loop was over.
…
Silence.
Then—
Naro fell to the ground laughing like a madman.
Dracula laughed with him.
Both of them had officially lost it.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—WE BEAT IT!" Naro shouted.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—YOU CRAZY BASTARD—WE ACTUALLY WON!" Dracula screamed.
They laughed harder and harder.
Five full minutes passed.
Eventually, Naro snapped back to his senses, breathing heavily, chest rising and falling.
He stood.
Walked forward.
And—
Darkness swallowed him.
In the next moment, he stood inside a geode of purple light. Amethyst crystals glowed everywhere, lighting the cave in a soft but ominous hue.
As he walked deeper, a massive hallway revealed itself.
Dark-purple, black structure with gold-veined marble.
The space was enormous.
Both Naro and Dracula felt their souls grow heavy. There was a presence here—one that could shake realms.
"Naro…" Dracula said quietly, his tone serious. "This aura… this is an Immortal Nyx."
"Hm." Naro replied calmly. "Yeah."
Their hatred toward each other had dulled slightly. The death loop had forced cooperation. Still, the resentment—especially from Dracula—had not disappeared.
At the center of the hall stood a pedestal.
On it rested a black mask.
Skull-shaped.
Sharp teeth.
Four narrow, demon-like eye sockets.
Thick dark purple-red tears flowed endlessly from its eyes.
The Asrith Sacrifice Nyx.
Its aura felt like claws gripping their hearts.
Naro ignored the pressure.
For the first time, his expression held genuine happiness.
He reached out.
The mask trembled, as if responding to him. It felt like it was calling him.
Naro placed it on his face.
The mask shook violently. Spikes burst from its sides, piercing into his head, locking it in place. Golden light erupted, accompanied by a powerful sound that echoed throughout the hall.
Slowly—
The mask disappeared.
It fused into Naro's essence.
Dracula exhaled.
"You actually obtained two Immortal Nyx… as a mere mortal," he said, voice heavy. "Marvelous. Truly marvelous."
Then his tone shifted.
"But to ascend… you still need to activate it."
"Don't worry," Naro replied calmly. "I have plans."
Dracula felt uneasy.
Because he knew exactly what kind of Nyx this was.
And he couldn't help but to think—
How far will this boy go… to activate it?