Chapter 176 – Molang Fantasy (14)
[Chapter 9 – Section 7] Return to Reality
Ranuvel.
The goddess who guides Earthlings unable to adapt to society to another world.
To the powerful who found reality boring, she offered the ability to dream of their ideal world, and she was adored everywhere.
“Ahh! Ranuvel! This world is far too dull! I offer all my wealth. Send me to the land of heroes! A world where strong enemies never cease!”
“I shall grant that wish.”
“I miss my mom. I can’t live without her. Goddess, send me to where my mother is. I’ll offer my wives who hated her as slaves! Their palace too!”
“I shall let you meet your mother.”
At first, she limited it to one or two days in the dream to avoid straining their bodies.
Bolt upright!
“Ahh! I saw the heroes! Their banquet! Cheers! Duels! They invited me to the Hall of Heroes!”
“Is that so…”
“Goddess Ranuvel! Send me back to that land! Even if I can never return!”
It was so vivid that no one thought it was merely a dream.
Flash!
“I saw Mom! She told me she died early from heartache because of my daughters-in-law! Mom…!”
“Calm yourself.”
“Goddess! Give me just a few days! I can’t forgive those bitches who tormented Mom! Guards! Assemble the army! I’ll wipe out these traitors! Mom! It must have been hard. Wait just a little longer! Your son will come back soon!”
Dreams are not reality. They only show what one wants to see. But that was enough for her once she gained their trust.
Those who mistook a dream containing everything they desired for reality willingly offered their wealth and chose eternal rest—a happy death.
“Goddess Ranuvel!”
“Goddess Ranuvel!”
Ignorant humans believed their souls had left their bodies and departed for another world.
What happened to the bodies left behind?
They were merely asleep, but those who believed the soul had departed waited until the ruler died of malnutrition, then placed them in magnificent tombs.
Pyramids, royal tombs, dolmens…
She lived as a goddess in this way for a very long time before passing the role to the next generation.
Ranuvela.
Only one person ever received the name ‘Ranuvela,’ carrying the meaning of inheriting the blood of Goddess Ranuvel.
Children born from the wet dreams of outstanding heroes were exceptional in ability and appearance, but the inheritance of power was not easily achieved.
Money, fame, men, power…
Ranuvel, reigning as a goddess, obtained everything she wanted, yet the one thing she truly desired remained out of reach.
“Another failure.”
For the family to prosper, a son was essential. Giving birth was no easy task for a woman.
What about men?
All a man had to do was plant his seed in a woman’s body! If inheritance was difficult, simply produce more children.
If one success out of ten births?
Then ten successes out of a hundred.
A woman couldn’t bear a hundred children, but if fifty women each bore two, statistically ten successes!
In other words, for Ranuvel’s ambition to be fulfilled, a son was necessary.
“Drink the goddess’s blood and gain eternal life!”
“The goddess must disappear! This land belongs to humans…!”
“That woman is no god! I saw her take a shit!”
Her own children, coveting her wealth, staged a rebellion. Pregnant and unable to move freely, she met a futile end.
“Find the successor!”
“Where did she disappear to?!”
“Capture her at once!”
Those who denied the existence of gods frantically tore into Ranuvel’s flesh and blood, screaming for immortality in absurdity.
Ranuvela, who witnessed her mother’s horrific death, was gripped by terror.
And she learned a lesson.
“One cannot be a god.”
That lesson proved useful during the height of witch hunts.
Despite thoroughly concealing her abilities, Ranuvela was reported by jealous women for her beauty and faced death.
In that moment, she displayed quick wit and praised the glory of a ‘god’ she didn’t even believe in.
“Bishop. Have you ever met God in person?”
“Filthy witch cavorting with demons! Do not dare speak His name lightly!”
“God has given me an oracle. He commands that I be granted an audience with you, Bishop.”
“Nonsense!”
“If it is not nonsense, then you will incur His wrath.”
“Wrath? Hah! The witch is flailing to survive. God loves His lambs.”
“Have you ever heard God’s voice, Bishop—”
Slap!
Her cheek stung from the slap.
“Silence! How dare a witch try to test me!”
“If you could hear His voice up close, even the cardinal would no longer be able to ignore you, Bishop.”
“……”
“What will you do?”
The sweet whisper of a devil.
If she gave him the wrong dream, he would meet the same horrific end as her mother—but there was no other way.
“If you try anything foolish…”
“I have received an oracle. There is no falsehood in what this girl says.”
“…Very well.”
The bishop dreamed, and his faith combined with his ambition for honor guided him straight to the dream she intended—without deviation.
Splash!
When he awoke, tears of emotion streamed down his face as he gazed upward.
“Ooh! I have seen Him! My father spoke! The One who never answered my desperate prayers for forty years…!”
“…Do you believe now?”
“I believe! Forgive this humble servant’s ignorance! You fools! What are you doing? Carefully lower the Saintess!”
Saintess.
Not a god, but God’s representative.
By humbling herself, Ranuvela could walk a different path from her mother.
Clothing, food, sleep…
She obtained a life free of any discomfort, and safely at that.
On the other hand,
“I’m not a witch!”
“Please spare me! Please! Please!”
Those who flaunted their abilities like Ranuvel were branded witches and could not escape torture and burning at the stake.
“Saintess. How should we deal with these witches?”
“I leave it to His Eminence the Cardinal, who has heard His words.”
“Haha! He has spoken. There is no place in this land for heretics.”
“As God wills…”
Haunted by the trauma of her mother’s death, Ranuvela always kept herself low.
Saintess.
That single word became the ultimate shield. Religion was absolute regardless of nationality, so no one could touch her. And since she coveted neither fame nor wealth, no power-hungry figure envied her.
“Ahh! I have seen Him!”
“God has forgiven me!”
Periodically, she used her ability to show people God—the God they wanted to see.
Even the most power-hungry became docile lambs after meeting God in person, and dormant faith erupted like a volcano.
“Saintess!”
“The true Saintess…”
To harbor malice or lust toward the very embodiment of that title—Ranuvela—had become blasphemy!
Her frugal lifestyle, born from trauma, only made her appear more saintly.
Then one day!
“Ranuvela! Save me!”
“…I have no intention of speaking with a pagan.”
“We’re friends, aren’t we!”
“……”
Her friend had been captured and accused of being a witch.
“Ranuvela, have you already forgotten? I saved you! Just say one word—I’m not a witch! I’m just a special human like you!”
“I am an ordinary human. I merely convey the will of the great God.”
“It’s your ability! Why bring up a God you don’t even believe in…!”
“……”
Her friend was a prideful fool.
“Saintess.”
The inquisitor asked for her decision.
“…Seeing my friend’s fallen state pains my heart. I leave the rest to you.”
She was a precious friend.
But she could not be saved. If branded as a pagan seduced by demons, not even a king would escape unscathed.
“Coward!”
“……”
Insults changed nothing.
“Ranuvela! You said your dream was to bear a son, right?”
“……”
It was her mother’s dream. Though she had no other ambitions, Ranuvela wanted to fulfill her mother’s wish.
“I will curse you with everything I have.”
“What…?”
“Ranuvela. Your God and my curse. Watch which one proves stronger.”
From that moment, ‘Ranuvela’ had to stake her life on childbirth.
***
“Hmm… An extremely sophisticated curse. The motive is a bit pathetic, but the skill is near divine.”
So Un-hyeon, having removed his hand from Ranuvel the 10th’s head, admired her technique.
“Huh? How…?”
Startled by a voice that shouldn’t have been audible, Ranuvel the 10th opened her eyes in confusion.
“How are you still alive?”
“…Who are you?”
“So Un-hyeon. A god currently possessing your son’s body.”
“……”
“Dying at the hands of the son you love so much—paying for your sins. A classic, old-fashioned method only someone born in the distant past like me would think of.”
“This time a human?”
“A god who was once human.”
“You knew that and still spared me?”
She didn’t understand how, but the important thing was that she hadn’t died at the hands of the son she so desperately wanted.
“I saw your memories.”
Including the reason witches stubbornly passed down the name ‘Ranuvela.’
To avoid repeating the mistakes of their predecessors, they transmitted ancestral memories through dreams to the next generation.
“Then there’s no need for explanations. I’m a human who abandoned my husband and son. Even if it wasn’t by my own will.”
She had been captured by the intelligence network of the Holy Roman Empire and dragged here.
A farewell?
Impossible. The Holy Roman Empire would never tolerate the noble witch bloodline leaking outside.
“There could have been a way to live together in the empire.”
“If I’d wanted that, I wouldn’t have hidden my identity and would have moved to the empire from the beginning. My wish was for an ordinary husband and an ordinary daily life…”
“An ordinary husband isn’t kind to his wife. With your appearance, any man you meet would end up the same.”
“You’re not a god—you’re a nagging old man.”
“Take this chance to remember: gods get hives all over if they don’t scold frustrating mortals.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I saved you, so I have to send you back to reality. Just like Ranuvel and Ranuvela I did.”
“Was that your doing?”
“Yes. Borrowing your son’s body. His head’s a bit slow, so it’ll take time, but someday he’ll manage it too.”
Ranuvel the 10th looked down at her own body—completely bare, without a thread.
A human body.
Not an avatar in the virtual reality game <Molang Fantasy>, but real flesh and blood.
Forced assimilation.
Or in other words, expulsion.
Forcibly assimilating someone merged into a dream back into reality to awaken them… Among surviving witches, only the elder Ranuvela the 7th could do it.
“Why…?”
“Why help you? Self-centered egoism runs in the mother-son pair. If you died, would that kid be happy? Especially once he learns he killed his own mother with his own hands—could he bear it?”
“……”
“That’s enough lecturing the frustrating auntie. They’re starting to gather.”
Creak—
Creak—
Sword Demons who didn’t want Ranuvela the 10th to leave this world swarmed in with menacing auras.
“A lot of specters want to make you their comrade. Go on.”
“You…”
“I’m the Blood God So Un-hyeon. Go act like an adult—act like a parent. Tell him I’m doing fine too.”
Tap.
So Un-hyeon’s fingertip lightly pushed her forehead.
***
“Ah…”
Ranuvela the 10th had returned from the virtual reality to reality.
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