The World After the Bad Ending - Chapter 163

Vulcan Zebra.

He had an extremely unfortunate childhood.

Vulcan was a descendant born into the Zebra royal family.

However, he was born from tainted blood.

The King of Zebra was a womanizer.

And not just any womanizer—he was deeply obsessed with women.

So much so that he even had attendants whose sole duty was to abduct women for him.

These attendants did not discriminate when searching for women—even the slums were fair game.

As long as the women weren’t terminally ill, the royal priests could heal them.

Once they were cleaned up and fed, they became presentable enough.

So, the only thing the attendants cared about was appearance.

Vulcan’s mother was from the slums.

One day, an attendant approached her with a direct offer.

He would give her a fortune if she would offer her body to a certain man.

Her family was struggling to survive day by day.

When the offer reached her mother’s ears, her mother immediately agreed.

"Sell her! Of course, sell her!"

Just like that, she was delivered to the king.

She was subjected to the king’s depraved sexual tastes, and he took a greater liking to her than expected.

"That was quite entertaining. I like her."

As a result, she became the king’s personal plaything.

But that didn’t last long.

Over time, the king grew tired of her.

However, the problem was that by then, she was already pregnant with his child.

Carrying the king’s child was an unprecedented crisis.

Especially since she was a woman from the slums.

The likelihood of her being quietly killed was high.

By the time the king lost interest, her fate was sealed.

While she was desperately hiding her pregnancy—

"You’re with child."

Someone discovered her secret.

The person who found out was none other than the attendant who had abducted her in the first place.

"Follow me."

Ironically, it was with his help that she managed to escape the royal palace.

"Why did you help me?"

She asked the attendant why he had saved her.

He didn’t answer.

Perhaps he had grown fond of her—or perhaps it was self-loathing for the things he had done.

"Live quietly. Don’t draw attention."

She never found out, but she survived thanks to his whim.

She gave birth to the child soon after.

"Your name is ■■."

Though the child was the result of an unwanted pregnancy, she raised him with all her love.

But the child’s misfortune had only just begun.

One day, the house where the child lived caught fire.

He was around three years old.

Still unable to walk properly, he was swallowed by the flames and left to die.

"■■! No! ■■!"

His grandmother tried to rush into the burning house to save him, but it was too late.

The house burned to the ground.

But the child did not die.

Though his entire body was burned, someone had saved him.

And that same person was the one who had set the fire in the first place.

He was a knight acting under the orders of Count Idras.

By the time Vulcan turned three, the King of Zebra had died suddenly.

The king, who had indulged in women and alcohol for years, had long been in poor health.

Eventually, his heart gave out, and he met his end.

Count Idras learned of the child’s existence through some means.

And he decided to use the boy for his own ends.

The royal lineage lacked a proper heir.

The King of Zebra had been obsessed with women because he was physically incapable of siring children easily.

His womanizing was a reaction to his own inadequacy.

Thus, the only heir was a young princess—and even she was the child of a concubine.

Any other heir would have been a viable candidate.

"Remember this. From now on, your name is Vulcan Zebra. Forget your old name."

Just like that, the child was stripped of his past identity.

By the time Vulcan turned five, he was proclaimed a new prince by the noble faction, including Count Idras.

At seven, the noble faction failed in their attempt to monopolize the throne and collapsed.

They were executed en masse for rebellion.

Just before his execution, Count Idras fled the royal palace with Vulcan, escaping to the worst slums of Zebra.

"It’s your fault! It’s all your fault! A useless prince like you ruined everything!"

From that moment on, Count Idras became consumed by his obsession with the throne and descended into madness.

He blamed all of it on Vulcan’s incompetence.

"Worthless vermin! I saved you from your filthy bloodline, and this is how you repay me?!"

In truth, Vulcan was only seven years old.

The fallen Count Idras, terrified of being hunted by the royal family, subjected Vulcan to relentless abuse.

He justified it by insisting Vulcan had to inherit the throne, even resorting to sexual abuse.

This continued until Vulcan turned ten.

By then, Count Idras had aged drastically.

Plagued by extreme stress and cheap drugs from the back alleys, he began suffering from hallucinations and delusions.

In the end, he made a drastic decision.

He would take Vulcan with him in suicide.

"We’re not needed. This world has no use for us."

He forced a noose around Vulcan’s neck before hanging himself.

Then, with one last kick, he knocked over the stool beneath him.

Count Idras, already at his physical limit, died instantly.

But Vulcan did not want to die.

Though still a child, his will to live was strong.

So, even in that cruel moment, he struggled desperately to survive.

His eyes, swollen from the beatings he had endured, fought to stay open.

At that moment, the old rope suddenly caught black fire, and Vulcan fell to the ground, alive.

But the flames spread to the decrepit house.

Vulcan was too weak to move.

As he stared helplessly at the burning house—

An old man appeared before him.

"Kekeke… What do we have here?"

He was a sorcerer who practiced forbidden magic.

Hiding in the slums of Zebra, he had sensed the black flames and rushed to investigate—only to make a startling discovery.

"The reincarnation of the hero, Rozly."

He was a dark mage who had foreseen the hero’s rebirth.

And he had plans to exploit that hero for his own ends.

Now, he had found the very reincarnation he had been searching for.

Without giving Vulcan a chance to resist, the dark mage dragged him away.

He sought to extract Vulcan’s soul and talents.

He carved into Vulcan’s forehead and probed his brain.

Vulcan screamed in agony.

Having barely survived one ordeal, he now faced death at the hands of the dark mage.

Endless despair and hatred for the world poured out of him.

The dark mage attempted to forcibly extract the soul of the hero Rozly from within Vulcan.

And that led to an irreversible outcome.

"W-What is this?!"

The hero Rozly.

Though he had saved the world, he had failed to protect his own family—a tragic hero.

Consumed by hatred for the world, he had tainted his own soul with corruption.

The Corrupted Flames.

A fire born from his hatred for the world.

The other heroes had noticed his corruption and sealed his soul away—

But he had deceived even the Goddess’s eyes and reincarnated regardless.

And now, that hatred was reignited within Vulcan, fueled by the dark mage’s greed.

The Corrupted Flames consumed the dark mage.

Screaming, he burned away into nothingness.

Soon after, a new pupil formed within the gash on Vulcan’s forehead.

Vulcan stepped over the charred remains of the dark mage and walked out.

Black tears streamed from his eyes.

He wandered aimlessly.

As Rozly’s memories awakened, Vulcan remembered everything—even the moment of his birth.

Painful memories suffocated him, tormenting him endlessly.

Yet, his steps carried him toward only one place.

The only woman who had ever shown him kindness.

His mother.

Barefoot, he traversed the slums until he finally saw her.

A woman walking with a man and a child.

Though aged, she was unmistakably the woman from his childhood memories.

She had forgotten everything and was walking happily down the street.

Vulcan stared blankly at the scene.

"■■."

The name she had once called him with such warmth no longer belonged to him.

Perhaps that was why, though he remembered everything else, his true name eluded him.

Vulcan turned away silently.

He had no more attachments to this world.

He sacrificed his own life force to nurture the Corrupted Flames.

Through this, he drew upon the power of the fallen hero, Rozly.

Now, his eyes held nothing but hatred for the world.

A life where he was born, stripped of his name, rejected by the world, and nearly ended as a sacrifice.

He had no desire for such a world to remain intact.

"I will burn it all. Everything will be reduced to ashes."

He would set the world ablaze—even the Goddess herself would burn in the end.

It was the moment Vulcan had completely lost his mind.

This was the leader of Mysticism.

The tainted bloodline—Vulcan Zebra.

His goal was singular.

To burn the world.

To achieve this, he resolved to steal the souls of heroes blessed by the Goddess.

His eyes could distinguish souls.

Thus, he could identify heroes.

At first, things went smoothly—absorbing the first hero, Ord.

But after that, nothing went as planned.

He failed to abduct the Saintess, obtaining only half of her soul.

The White Woodworker began pursuing Mysticism, complicating matters.

Aquiline’s reincarnation, Musica, returned alive from Goezon.

Then, he failed to capture Jerion’s reincarnation.

Through Musica and the Saintess, they had somehow reached Mysticism’s stronghold.

And behind it all was one boy.

Hanon Ailey.

A boy with no notable background—just the bloodline of the Duke of Loblian.

Yet, he was connected to every incident.

And now.

Vulcan found himself in an absurd situation.

Before him stood that very boy.

Bizarrely, a strange boy who wielded ancient dragon magic.

He stood against Vulcan, accompanied by two girls.

At first, Vulcan scoffed at him.

No matter if he had the Goddess’s wings or was Jerion’s reincarnation—he was just a child.

Against Vulcan, who had consumed the souls of Rozly and Ord, he stood no chance.

Vulcan planned to quickly dispose of them, absorb their souls, and then deal with the exhausted White Woodworker.

But under Hanon’s direction, the two fought with terrifying synergy.

What trials had they overcome together?

With just a glance, they understood each other’s intentions and launched relentless assaults.

They moved as if they were one.

To make matters worse, Jenia, who had mastered spatial interference magic, joined the fight.

True to her status as Jerion’s reincarnation, she displayed exceptional magical prowess.

And she fought in perfect harmony with Hanon, like family.

The result?

Vulcan found himself in an utterly baffling situation.

"What… is this?"

Every one of his attacks was countered.

Meanwhile, their strikes landed on him without fail.

By all accounts, Vulcan should have been overwhelmingly stronger.

Yet, no matter how he attacked, they saw through everything.

It was as if—

They could predict his every move.

The difference in power was clear.

But Vulcan was the one being pushed back.

"How?"

Unable to comprehend the situation, Vulcan shouted.

In his eyes, Hanon’s soul was insignificantly small compared to the others.

Yet, he shone brighter than anyone.

"What are you?"

Before Vulcan could process the answer, Hanon emerged through the smoke, his hand raised.

"Hanon Ailey."

Mentioning the name he already knew, Hanon smirked through his sweat.

"If I had to dress it up, I guess you could call me an Agent."

For Vulcan, this was an unforeseen crisis.