Decades ago, the Spell descended upon the world. It infected humanity and forced them into trials called Nightmares.

Soon after, gates began to appear, and monstrous creatures from the Dream Realm spilled into reality, turning the world upside down.

To survive in such an age, one had to train relentlessly, enduring Nightmare after Nightmare in order to grow stronger.

Most people chose weapons according to their talent; sword, hammer, shield, spear, and so on.

But Amon firmly believed that such methods were flawed. The Cowardly Pathways never relied on crude, barbaric tools of steel. As a Beyonder or an Awakened of that very pathway, he felt he should honor the ways of his seniors, who had already walked this path and paved the way for juniors like him.

Still… Amon was broke. Despite all his "great talents" at stealing, it had never once crossed his genius mind to, you know… steal a few guns and toss them into Fraud's Bag. An amateur mistake so embarrassing that he had to blame himself loudly, dramatically, and preferably in front of no one.

Klein, his wise lampooning senior, had used revolvers until the bitter end. Even as a god, he'd fired off supernovas like some eldritch cowboy. And here was Amon, calling himself a cowardly pathway practitioner while brandishing a glowing green Jian like a discount swordsman in a second-rate wuxia drama.

Amon sighed, puffed his cheeks, and declared to no one in particular:

"Clearly, I'm a disgrace. A fraud. A walking contradiction in a very stylish robes."

But then he tilted his head, smirked, and added,

"…Still, I did steal this sword. So technically, I'm innovating. Who says cowards can't be trendsetters?"

But it was fine! Amon knew that to truly understand his fears and advance along the Dao of Cowardice, he had to face a monster. And so, here he was, standing heroically in front of the Carapace Scavenger.

He struck a dramatic pose and even just for flair licked his Jian like some kind of anime swordmaster.

Then, of course… the universe said no. Second scavenger appeared. Then a third. Fourth. Within seconds, eight of these nightmare-crab-centaur abominations were lined up, staring him down like he was dinner.

Each creature stood two and a half meters tall, a grotesque fusion of demonic crab and centaur. Four pairs of segmented legs ended in scythe-like claws, a human-like torso jutted out from the armored carapace, and the head... no neck, of course, loomed atop it all. Two narrow, menacing eye slits. Slimy mandibles for a mouth. Instead of hands? Huge, horrifying pincers.

Amon stared at them blankly, expressionless. Slowly, his Jian dissolved into white sparks and returned to his soul sea. Then, with all the poise of a bewildered nobleman, he bowed deeply, saluting the beasts.

He wasn't about to throw himself recklessly into danger. Sometimes, understanding the path of cowardice meant… knowing when to step back. Perhaps that, too, was part of being a coward.

But then, a deep voice thundered from behind, brimming with valor and righteous rage.

"Without stepping into danger, you can never overcome fear! Only by dancing with despair can one truly understand the dao of life!"

Amon spun around, eyes wide, staring at Medici. His expression grew solemn as he nodded in understanding. He didn't have the faintest idea what the hell this fucker was talking about, but… Medici was stronger, so it was probably fine.

Giving a weak thumbs-up, Amon watched Medici stride past, Flag of Life in hand and Cherished Armour Breaker gleaming, radiating absolute confidence. Meanwhile, Amon had plenty to reflect on. He needed to process this… experience.

Then, as if the universe had perfect comedic timing, a Carapace Centurion lumbered into view.

And so, both of them did the only sensible thing: they bowed respectfully to the monstrous creatures, fist-palmed in salute, and said in unison,

"Apologies for bothering you."

Sometimes, honesty and extreme cowardice was the best policy.

Around two months ago, Amon and Medici reached the Builder's statue just in time after killing the Cursed Herald. Well… they barely managed it, but it was still a success. And, as a bonus, they had two Shard Memories. A tremendous achievement, considering two of them had accomplished what the entire cohort had struggled to do.

Their journey was, more or less, peaceful. Fate must have decided they'd had enough character development, because it didn't pull any diabolical nonsense on them. The Builder's statue moved along serenely, dutifully, as always.

Medici and Amon bowed in gratitude when they reached their destination. Sure, the Builder had been an asshole when alive, but politeness and eloquence were virtues of a Swindler. After all, it was a colossal statue carrying them across more than a thousand kilometers, some respect was in order.

Oh, and Amon had swindled a good number of nightmare creatures along the way. He had especially enjoyed tricking intelligent beings like demons and devils. The arrogance of thinking a little intellect would make them harder to fool… Ha! That only made them easier prey.

And right now, he was fulfilling his destiny: hiding from nightmare creatures to avoid being eaten.

Truly, Amon was living the life of the Error Pathway beyonder, embracing all its virtues… and laughing all the way.

After the nightmare creatures finally dispersed, the duo made their way toward a towering landmark that rose starkly against the crimson coral and ashen sky. It was built from the skeletal remains of a colossal sea beast, its spine arching high above an enormous mound of chaotically growing coral.

They climbed the leviathan's bones with practiced ease, soon reaching their small camp tucked beneath its massive spine. The camp was crude, fashioned from the hides and bones of slain nightmare creatures. A modest bonfire crackled in the middle, with a pot hanging over it where Medici usually cooked whatever meat they managed to scavenge.

Amon, of course, had strung up his hammock nearby. Many might call it ridiculous, a waste of effort in a place like this… but did he care? Not in the slightest.

"In this world," Amon muttered as he settled in, "only my pleasure and displeasure exist…"

"Stop being a fucking plagiarist and come help me," Medici shot back flatly. "You ain't Sukuna."

On that point, they were in perfect agreement. Whatever else Amon was, he wasn't the kind of monster who'd eat women and children. Nightmare Creatures would do just fine.

Amon, of course, didn't help. Why would he? He was destined for higher things... like cultivating the Dao of Sloth. Some dreamed of swordsmanship, some of enlightenment, others of immortality. Amon dreamed of never moving unless it was absolutely necessary.

Medici, meanwhile, actually showed progress. His Attribute advanced, morphing from Hunter to Provoker. Naturally, this happened right after they'd clawed their way through a brutal fight at their latest destination. Difficult? Sure. Impossible? Please. No way two seasoned Transmigrators would lose to a bunch of filthy monkeys who couldn't even use Jujutsu.

"Tragic," Amon muttered, staring at the horizon. "I miss Lobotomy Kaisen."

Still, he couldn't help but notice his own growth had slowed down. Maybe it was the lack of swindling opportunities in this coral graveyard. Back when he was a Marauder, things had been smooth. But now, as a Swindler, the grind felt… sluggish. Almost like the heavens themselves were punishing him for his lack of scams.

He sighed.

"Yeah, probably that. Or maybe I just peaked early."

There was another problem too. They were close to the Ashen Barrow, where the Soul Devouring Tree lurked. Amon shivered every time he glanced at the colossal thing and then, like a proper gentleman, quickly looked away. Staring at senior trees was rude. And he wasn't racist.

The tree was magnificent, though. Its onyx-black branches stretched wide, heavy with vibrant scarlet leaves that shimmered like fire. Between them hung plump, glowing fruits; round, ripe, and almost smug about it.

Amon swallowed hard. Something about the sight made his chest feel tight. A strange, gnawing sense… No! Persevere! He clenched his fists. I won't steal those fruits. I'm righteous, I'm dashing, I'm heroic, a lover of justice...

His stomach growled.

"…fuck. I'm just a greedy-ass kid who's sick of eating meat."

Medici gave him a long look, taking generous portions of meat for himself while slyly dumping the scraps he didn't like into Amon's bowl… which, naturally, was a skull of some unfortunate beast.

Then he cleared his throat, straightened his back, and smiled faintly as though he was standing on a celestial stage.

"My fellow Daoist, heavens are cruel indeed. We are mere mortals… But does that mean we should surrender? No! Don't be discouraged! We must persevere! We must strive to ascend, to become great immortals, to choose our own destinies instead of bending to fate!"

Amon sniffled, wiping away a single tear. though, it wasn't clear if it was from emotion or the smell of charred meat. Then he stilled, letting out a long, weary sigh.

"Bored?"

"Yeah…"

"Shit… same here."

Then they started eating in silence.

At some point, Amon caught himself missing his old world. He often longed for the comforts of his previous life. Now he was living in shit… literally. Apparently, Nightmare Creatures needed restrooms as well.

How did Amon know that? Well, they had slaughtered plenty of scavengers, and as the paragon of curiosity, Amon had decided to check if they had asses for some strange reason… apparently, they did.

But that wasn't what kept the two of them sitting on the bone ridge.

Amon stared at the horizon for a while, then sighed.

"Don't care, I'm stealing those fucking fruits."

Medici nodded at first, but then froze, his eyes widening in disbelief and horror.

"Nooo! We've talked about this a hundred times already! Don't let the Heart Demon win!"

Amon snorted and shook his head.

"Don't care. Anyway, Sunny and the others already left. Eh, I wanted to steal the Blood Weave, but alas… the Heavens spared that little shit from my wrath. Regardless, we're both aware of the Soul-Devouring Tree's mind hex and can resist it. And if that doesn't work… well, pain is a way to resist it too."

He paused, glanced down, and muttered shyly, his expression suddenly bashful.

"P-please… be gentle."

Medici stared at him for a long moment, then broke into a radiant smile.

"Don't worry, junior brother. I'll make sure to destroy your jaw."

Amon felt strangely reassured.

After they'd had their fill of fooling around, the two finally shifted into serious talk. Amon already had a dozen plans lined up to counter the mind hex.

As expected of himself. Truly, he was a Beyonder of the Error Pathway, contingency plans casually tucked away like loose change in his pockets. Nothing could slip past his eyes… well, maybe if he had a monocle it would look more impressive. Shame he didn't. Still, no despair. He moved forward with relentless... well, let's call it "reasonable" speed.

The fruits were too valuable to ignore. They could raise the numbers of his soul fragments and accelerate his progression. Medici was only about two hundred fragments short of forming his second core as well.

Amon also kept searching for Luna. They used Hawk's Eye to scout daily from the statue of the Builder, and one reason they moved so slowly despite knowing the Dark City's location was that they checked every possible place she might be along the way. She wasn't in the Labyrinth. She wasn't anywhere else.

That reassured Amon. If Luna was in the Dark City, she'd at least be safer than out here. Of course, the city itself was deadly but at least it wasn't the Labyrinth. That was comfort enough.

Out of habit, he summoned Hawk's Eye. The spyglass manifested in a shimmer of pale sparks from his soul sea and turned it toward the Colossal Tree.

Nothing new. Just the same oppressive stillness… Amon and Medici had arrived early enough to spot Sunless and his cohort, but by then they were already leaving. Sure, they had wanted a ride too, but alas, fate had denied them even that. All they could do was watch the makeshift boat drift swiftly away from the Ashen Barrow.

Why was fate so cruel? If not for their great intelligence, they would never have survived such harrowing trials. Heh. Truly, the Transmigrator Trio were the main characters of this era.

But amusement was fleeting. Both Medici and Amon had already realized the truth: their greatest enemy wasn't the monsters, or the trials… but boredom.

So they drowned it in nonsense, tossing out every scrap of ridiculous banter just to pass the time. That's life, isn't it? If you don't chase a little joy, you'll sink into the abyss of despair.

He smirked at the irony, but the expression slowly withered. The humor bled from his face, replaced by cold dread. His eyes narrowed, the weight of disbelief pressing down on him until even breathing felt wrong.

He slapped his cheeks, hard, as though trying to banish some illusion or hex. He checked his runes, his perception, everything yet found nothing out of place.

It was real.

Luna was real... And she was dying.