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In the divine arts of the Godly Recursion, there were techniques like soul manipulation or dreamwalking that involved a person’s dreams.
However, such techniques that interfere with a person’s mind risk sweeping away their thoughts, causing confusion in their memories, and, in the worst-case scenario, the collapse of their ego, turning both the practitioner and the subject into mere breathing dolls.
In the first place, there was no divine art versatile enough to clearly see through the entire sequence of a dream.

Of course, it was also absurd that it completed a full circulation through Atalanta’s body so stably; these memories entering my mind were something I couldn’t understand even with all the knowledge of three lifetimes.

“Ughhh…”

“I’ll have to worry about it later.”

Regardless of this and that, the entire body of this fledgling young hero was occupied by the qi extending from me.
The fact that thoughts were flowing from her meant that her unconscious mind was completely open to me, just like USB administrator mode.
In other words, if I made even the slightest wrong move now, I could turn this perfectly fine young hero into a wreck.

“Ugh… I guess I have to.”

Even though I didn’t like this potentially crazy kid she was turning into, after looking into her background and fate, there was some room for consideration.
Moreover, if the Goddess of the Crescent Moon, who already didn’t have a good first impression of me, used this as an excuse to summon her brother or father, I’d be roasted into a crispy celestial horse steak before I could even try anything.

‘Even that guy in the next room was threatened by that tyrant and got hit by Lightning Strike while saving a dead person.’

According to the myth I remember, Artemis encouraged our Whitey, saying that he could save the corpse.
The myth said that the notorious goddess would have shot an arrow into his head if he hadn’t complied.
I could say I was in a similar bind.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

I brushed away the lingering illusion of the Heavenly Demon’s rare steak and pulled up a chair to sit.
Through our hands that stuck to each other as if we were one, the energy that had completed a circuit through Atalanta’s body came back into my body following the principles of Martial Spirit Cultivation Arts, passing through the hundred meridian points and reaching my upper qi field.

Blood soaked my hands.
The roar of thunder and the scream of moonlight shook my ears.

The stench of blood and the smell of burning corpses pricked my nose.
Even the creepy gazes clung to my spine.

The dreams, which combined with the events Atalanta personally experienced, became even more horrific, to the point where I could feel them with all my senses. Atalanta’s dreams had deeply penetrated me.

[“Shut up!!”]

Was this my voice?
Or was it Atalanta’s scream?
Whose hand is it now, sitting in the pristine treatment room, holding the hand of the beautiful young hero?
Whose hand was it that was slaughtering the glances and flicking tongues from all directions?
Scenes from all directions swiftly brushed past my body like a torrent.

‘Compared to when I went berserk in the past, this is pretty tame.’

Back then, it wasn’t just a horror game but a full-on hell.
As I steadied my breathing and focused on my qi, my consciousness began to delve into Atalanta’s dream.
It felt like my body and mind were being separated, as if I were experiencing sleep paralysis, and suddenly I found myself standing in the middle of a vast plain.

Behind me was the familiar entrance to the Forest of Heroes, and in front of me was a military camp.
This was the moment when Atalanta’s pride was shattered.

There were sentries laughing and spouting lewd jokes, soldiers openly eyeing me with lascivious looks.
And even a general, who seemed like an idiot, hurling taunting insults at me—no, at Atalanta—with no respect at all.
I already thought they were pathetic, but seeing it firsthand made me frown more.

‘Are they an army of clowns or what?’

The undisciplined troops here were nothing compared to the 108 Demonic Warriors of the Heavenly Demon Cult I once commanded.
Their ignorance was blatant as they openly mocked their lord’s kin, even if only nominally.
And their foolishness in underestimating the opponent before them based solely on appearance.
I couldn’t understand what the King of Arcadia saw in Atalanta to summon his kin and Chiron’s disciple, a young hero.

‘Their weapons aren’t bad, but… the ones wielding them are below average.’

If I were my past self, the Heavenly Demon, one finger point, no, before I even lifted my finger, my Four Heavenly Kings’ subordinates would have cut them down.
In the Forest of Heroes, even if not Chiron, Theseus, or Jason, given some time, even Actaeon and his hunting dogs could handle this ragtag group.

‘If you’re weak, at least be smart, and if you’re not smart, at least be kind.’

Powerless, ignorant, unholy.
An army of misfits worse than the worst of the Tang Dynasty.
These were men who would have died quickly anywhere, not just in Atalanta’s hand.

And then came Atalanta’s lesson.
The enraged huntress swiftly gouged out the eyes of the foul-smelling general and trampled on his screaming tongue.

‘About… 70 points?’

Her speed and accuracy in gouging his eyes were good, but it was too clean, causing less pain.
When pulling his tongue, it took her excessive force to twist and grab his slippery tongue.

‘I would just think of it as getting a bit more dirty and pierce his tongue with my fingers to pull it out.’

Still, considering it was a punishment and execution of the man who insulted her, the goal was somewhat achieved.

If it were me…?

‘Eyes gouged out, drawn and quartered, and annihilation of three generations—full course.’

This wasn’t 21st-century South Korea, but a world where strength was the only order, filled with martial arts, divine beings, and heroes. Hearing such an insult and letting it slide quietly was like advertising, “Look down on me and come at me.”
In that sense, the fact that Atalanta only gouged out the general’s eyes and tongue and simply beheaded him was quite merciful to me.

Well, that, too, was thwarted by the intervention of Chiron.
Atalanta, blinded and deafened, was carried in Chiron’s arms.
However, her heart was trembling with the thunderous roar and divine presence of the moonlight that shook the heavens and earth.

‘Things got tangled up from here.’

Since Atalanta started it, it would have been less troubling if she had ended it, whether the conclusion was good or bad.
From Chiron’s perspective, it was an action taken out of concern that the still-young Atalanta would commit murder and be consumed by guilt.
Rather than shielding her from the immediate shock of murder, it would have been more appropriate to let her judge herself and feel its weight.

‘Now I understand the cause of the nightmare.’

Atalanta ended the punishment she had started on her own by borrowing the hands of the gods, not her own.
She couldn’t cut off the evil herself, and she couldn’t reach the conclusion with her own hands.

For Atalanta, nothing had ended, but in reality, everything had ended and was buried in time.
As a result, the sinister gazes that clung to her back still hadn’t disappeared, and the insults that teased her ears clung like leeches, whispering in her dreams.
And her defense mechanism, in search of the cause of non-existent phantom pain, would have turned its arrows toward men around her who were similar to the soldiers back then.
Every time she saw them, like a trauma, she would sharpen her edge more and more at the sight of large-built men, recalling insults and gazes.

‘It’s just like when the Justice Faction caused internal strife among themselves and then blamed everything on the Heavenly Demon!!’

Somehow, this train of thought felt familiar.
It was similar to the thought processes of the Justice Faction members during the countermeasure meeting against the Heavenly Demon.
The only difference was that the target was men, not the Heavenly Demon.
However, in such cases, there was rarely genuine hatred towards the adversary created by the defense mechanism.
These guys…
When these unnecessarily prideful individuals bore such trauma, the ones they truly hated were always the same.

“Your weak self, the self that was at the center of the incident but couldn’t do anything, the self that seems to have done something wrong.”

Look at that.
In the middle of a nightmare filled with eyes and tongues, the would-be psychopath, Atalanta, was trying to cut her own neck with her own hands.

“Ahhhhhhh!”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

I lightly blocked Atalanta’s swinging knife with the top of my foot.

“Hey, stop being so pitiful and get up already.”

“You are…?”

Hey, look at this girl.

“Even if it’s in a dream, have you already forgotten me?”

As I said that, I realized something strange too.
Since coming to this world, have I ever worn such luxurious leather shoes?

The shoes that blocked the blade perfectly were not the Greek-style sandals I used to wear, but ornate leather shoes decorated with gold and divine iron.
Even though it was leather, thanks to countless times of tanning and the meticulously carved ornaments made of new iron by artisans, my feet were intact without any wounds, despite Atalanta’s blade.

“Wait a minute, this…?”

Only then did I lower my gaze and look at my hands.
The delicate hands of the pale boy I had lamented for so long were nowhere to be seen; instead, the rough, scarred, and rugged hands of a warrior were twitching.
And below, I could clearly feel the robust body hidden under the black robe with the Asura pattern woven with gold and silver threads.

“This can’t be…”

It was certain.
It was the body of the Heavenly Demon Emperor, who I had longed for so much, who unified the martial world and reached the pinnacle of the heavens.