How To Live As A Writer In A Fantasy World

Chapter 393: Clark (2)

Kate departed for the underground temple, and I slowly began organizing the content for the next volume and a side story.

The next volume will focus on post-war recovery, Lily’s worsening condition, and Jin and his companions’ desperate efforts to save her.

The Archdemon Diabolos, in his final outburst, drove a spike into Lily, destroying her vessel.

Unfortunately, the spike pierced her heart, creating a situation even the gods find challenging to resolve.

While it’s difficult, resolving it is not impossible.

The problem is that the process inevitably includes Lily’s death.

Since her vessel is already corrupted and beyond saving, the only solution is to extract and preserve her soul, transferring it to a newborn.

However, in this process, all her memories will be erased.

This tragic outcome has led them to take a stance of saving her at any cost, but even that proves futile.

If left as is, Lily’s body will be entirely corrupted, turning her into a demon.

Demonic birth happens through this very process, and her corruption is so severe that even the World Tree cannot withstand it.

This situation raises deeper questions: even if they manage to bring her back, is it right to tamper with someone’s life so casually?

If her soul remains but all her memories vanish, can she still be considered the same person?

Both practically and philosophically, this issue poses numerous dilemmas, leaving Jin and his companions in deep anguish.

Paradoxically, to save Lily, they must kill her.

Yet, this means she would no longer be Lily but an entirely different person.

Despite fighting to save lives, the ultimate situation forces them to kill a comrade.

Naturally, this tragic reality causes disputes among the group.

Zenon is half-resigned, while Jin passionately insists on finding a way to save her.

As time drags on with no solution in sight, Jin stays by Lily’s side without sleep as her body begins to turn black, starting from her heart.

Unable to bear it any longer, Jin makes a significant decision—one that unknowingly sets the stage for another tragedy.

‘If not for the corruption, her memories could have been preserved.’

You might wonder, if even I can retain memories of a past life, why can’t Lily?

The reason is simple: I didn’t require purification, whereas Lily’s ongoing corruption makes purification essential.

Purification involves cleansing a soul so thoroughly that no trace of it remains—essentially resetting it to a blank state.

Of course, my arrival in this world was also an accident, so I couldn’t do much about it.

Luminous once mentioned that the gods of Earth protested fiercely, saying Earth’s natural order was in chaos because of this.

Honestly, from the gods’ perspective in this world, it’s understandable they’d feel wronged.

After all, it wasn’t their fault but that of a demon-worshipper who caused a massive catastrophe, and yet, they bore all the blame.

Still, if Clark hadn’t tampered with the summoning ritual, the demon war would have erupted, making the situation even worse.

A truly unfortunate situation on all sides.

‘I’ve already planned out the story until the conclusion. All that’s left is…’

The backup side story and a recently conceived one—these two.

The backup side story, being more of a ‘what if’ scenario than canon, can be developed slowly.

However, the recently conceived one, based on Clark, requires significant thought.

The most critical aspects are the protagonist and the timeline.

I’ve already planned the protagonist’s fate: a desperate struggle to preserve hope versus the Seven Deadly Sins, who have lost all hope and desire the world’s ruin.

The tricky part is deciding which of the Seven Deadly Sins the protagonist encounters.

The candidates are Wrath and Envy, both of whom lost their cherished things in an instant and now long for the world’s destruction. In contrast, the protagonist fights desperately to preserve even a sliver of hope.

‘Maybe I should include both?’

That’s not a bad idea.

While victory may not be guaranteed, it would sufficiently highlight the protagonist’s strength in the side story.

What’s fascinating is that Clark singlehandedly defeated the highest-ranking demon worshippers.

In some ways, you could say he achieved more than the novel’s events.

Of course, given how important the underground temple was to the demon worshippers, they likely couldn’t commit their full strength.

But that doesn’t diminish Clark’s prowess.

Having sketched the overall framework, I became curious about Clark as a person and decided to ask my father about him.

I knew Clark was a passing hero, one who abandoned the duties of a hero, but beyond that, I wanted to know more about the man himself.

“A relentless smoker,” my father replied calmly.

I widened my eyes in surprise and asked, “A smoker?”

“Yes. The kind of man who’d smoke a cigarette even if the world were ending.”

Hearing my father’s immediate answer, I realized just how much Clark must have smoked.

But in my dream, he peacefully closed his eyes and passed into the arms of the gods.

Unlike a movie cliché, he didn’t enjoy one last puff on a cigarette.

‘Maybe there weren’t any cigarettes around at the time?’

The thought crossed my mind briefly before I dismissed it.

Anyway, in this world, cigarettes are both a leisure item and a treatment tool.

However, medicinal cigarettes, like cannabis, are strictly regulated by temples, and anything beyond that is treated as a drug, leading to severe punishment.

One temple was even caught distributing addictive cigarettes in what turned into a significant scandal before I was born.

Returning to the present, cigarettes remain a popular leisure item regardless of gender, class, or even race.

Even elves have smokers, and there are cigarettes made from the dried leaves of the World Tree, which are reportedly a primary export of Alvenheim, though highly addictive.

Still, given the era, there are no convenient cigarettes like modern cigarettes—only cigars and pipe tobacco exist.

‘Wasn’t there a region that specialized in making cigars, like Cuba? Where was it again?’

I couldn’t remember exactly, but I knew it existed.

Cigars were a globally popular commodity before the Age of Zenon, so distribution networks are diverse.

And if the side story gets published, cigarette sales would likely skyrocket.

A lone cigarette smoked after safeguarding the last bit of hope, just before closing one’s eyes for good.

‘Or perhaps, like Grandfather, smoking one after taking revenge on all enemies?’

It’s hard to decide on such an ending.

In that case, Wrath or Envy might observe from a distance, while a subordinate serves as the antagonist.

As I was pondering the conclusion, my father, who had been quietly watching me, spoke up.

“Isaac.”

“Yes?”

“Are you thinking of smoking cigarettes as well?”

He must have thought I was deep in thought for a reason.

I blinked and quickly shook my head. I didn’t smoke in my previous life, and I don’t intend to start now.

“No, not at all. I was just curious about what kind of person Grandfather was.”

“I see.”

“So, aside from being a heavy smoker, what else can you tell me? What about his personality or hobbies?”

“His personality… Well, it’s hard for me to say as his son, but he was quite eccentric.

Surprisingly, his hobby was writing a journal.”

“A journal?”

“Yes. But he burned all of them before he passed, leaving no trace behind. Likely to erase as much of himself as possible.”

I was surprised.

People who keep journals often have a philosophical side, reflecting deeply on their lives and growth.

Journals also hold historical value as records of events.

The fact that he burned them was unfortunate, but it gave me some insight into Clark’s character.

“He must have been a thoughtful person.”

“How do you figure?”

“Writing a journal is a way of recording oneself. It takes effort to write daily.”

“Hmm…”

Father seemed to ponder this for a moment, looking at me with his golden eyes that mirrored my own reflection like a mirror.

Then, he chuckled softly and gently patted my head with his large hand.

Though I was already grown, I suppose in his eyes, I was still his youngest child.

“Perhaps you’re right. Before he left, he apologized for not being a good father.”

“…”

“If he were to return, I’d like to have an honest conversation with him. There’s so much I want to say.”

There was a lingering sense of regret in his voice. I quietly listened as he expressed his feelings.

Grandfather had erased all traces of himself to protect Father, yet this left him unable to convey his true feelings.

Father, in turn, had suspected there was a reason but couldn’t find evidence, leaving unresolved emotions in his heart.

I hope this opportunity can help ease the tension between them as father and son.

“He must have had his reasons. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have trained you.”

“That’s true. Speaking of which, let’s head out for some training.”

“Oh, but I need to work on my writing…”

“Haha. Do you think that excuse will work? No more words—come along now.”

And so, I didn’t get to write that day.

★★★★★

Around the time Isaac began receiving special training from Hawk, a small change occurred in the underground temple where Clark had been waiting.

Originally, the investigation team would attack Clark without hesitation, treating him as a monster.

However, as time passed, they began to grasp the situation, even if only slightly.

This skeleton was vastly different from any other entity.

Even if attacked first, he would only render his opponents unconscious, never taking a life.

Though his manner of speaking was a bit rough, his actions were polite and respectful.

It was clear to anyone that he was not an evil being.

Thanks to this, the investigation team gradually calmed down and managed to have a “conversation” with him—not a physical confrontation, but the true conversation Clark had been eagerly waiting for.

[Is this the Chronicles of Zenon?]

“Yes, yes, it is.”

Clark gazed at the book lying on the ground—the Chronicles of Zenon.

Apparently, it had been brought along to keep him entertained during breaks.

For reference, beneath him, a knight was still being used as a makeshift chair.

Ordinarily, Clark would have let the knight go, but his defiance had been so irritating that he left him there as punishment.

The other investigators wanted to rescue the knight, but they couldn’t.

Clark was absurdly strong, and they couldn’t afford to give him any reason to take offense.

Clark sighed, biting down on a cigar as he picked up the first volume of the Chronicles of Zenon.

Smoke curled upwards and dissipated into the air.

He had no eyes but could see, no ears but could hear, no lungs but could breathe.

The same applied to taste.

As he took a long draw from the cigar, its distinctive refined flavor filled him deeply, as though he had lungs.

For reasons unknown, he could feel all five senses.

Leisurely smoking, Clark stared at the cover of the Chronicles of Zenon.

[If only something like this had been written while I was alive…]

Clicking his tongue, Clark expressed genuine regret.

Though he hadn’t read the book, he knew from it how the world had changed.

The book chronicled the defeat of demon worshippers who had been lurking in the shadows, dragging them into the light.

Many other remarkable achievements were recorded within its pages.

One particular event brought him great satisfaction—the elimination of a corrupt cardinal.

That cardinal alone had led to the destruction of the organization Clark had once belonged to.

Back then, it had been unthinkable to suspect even a cardinal of corruption.

How could a servant of God ally with demons? Such an idea defied common sense.

However, the demon worshippers had been far more cunning and resourceful than Clark had anticipated.

As a result, everything had fallen apart one step at a time.

[Before I return to dust, I should finish reading this.]

Clark was about to start reading the Chronicles of Zenon in earnest when—

Murmur, murmur—

Suddenly, the underground temple became noisy.

The investigation team, reassured by Clark’s calm demeanor, had resumed their work, but the rising commotion clearly indicated that something was happening.

Sensing this, Clark closed the book and looked ahead.

His gaze narrowed, the golden glow in his hollow eye sockets dimming slightly.

A powerful presence emanated from the temple’s entrance.

“Do not fight him. That skeleton is different from the others…”

“He has defied the order you set, and he seeks to meet Isaac and Sir Hawk. His intentions must surely be impure.”

One voice, filled with hostility, belonged to a woman.

Another, desperate to calm her down, belonged to a man.

Clark sighed and quietly closed the book.

A disturbance seemed inevitable, judging by the growing tension.

It didn’t matter.

The energy emanating from the source was strong, but he could handle it like he had handled others before.

And so—

“Is it that one?”

“Yes, yes, but…”

The loyal apostle of God and the skeleton revived by divine grace finally came face to face.

[Hey, chair.]

“Yes, sir!”

[Move aside for a moment.]