I Start with 13 Hidden Traits Chapter-389

**389. I Hate This World**

—

Hands moving without rest.

What was reflected on the computer screen was unmistakably a *game*.

The game—*Pangaenia*.

The beginning of all these changes.

And the two eyes watching Pangaenia shone like starlight.

“Reverse pattern? Don’t tell me it’s learning *my* pattern?”

The one who had sparked the Grand Expedition was now facing the Seventh Lord of the Demon Realm, Basara.

A single misclick could lead straight to defeat—and death.

Yet there was not a trace of tension in him.

No hesitation, either.

Only—

*He was enjoying it.*

Enjoying the fight against a powerful opponent, enjoying Pangaenia itself.

Basara observed him closely.

Park Hyun-myung.

The puppeteer who moved Wilhelm.

But that wasn’t all.

Scenes flashed by—countless moments where, amid incomprehensible situations, numerous characters had survived.

Dozens, hundreds—so many figures of Pangaenia that they were impossible to count—passed through his hands and gained new lives, new meaning.

He never gave up even once.

He enjoyed adversity, and found joy in survival.

It was something Basara could not understand.

To him, it should have been nothing more than a *game*.

A world on a screen—played briefly, then discarded, entirely unrelated to himself.

*He loves Pangaenia.*

…He truly loved Pangaenia.

He longed for the world beyond the game.

And thus reached the pinnacle called **Phantom**.

Only now did she understand.

Why she had come to feel something toward the puppeteer beyond Wilhelm.

The emotions Park Hyun-myung was feeling at this very moment were being transmitted to Basara —just as they were.

—*I love this world!*

Ah……

Perhaps that was why.

Because he was so utterly different from her.

*I hate this world.*

She had never met anyone who held emotions so opposite to her own.

No one had ever loved Pangaenia this deeply.

Feeling the emotions flowing from him, Basara had been thrown into confusion.

Persecution she had suffered since birth.

Discrimination.

There was no place in Pangaenia for a mutant.

She was welcomed nowhere, and wherever she went, the Dragon Gods’ scrutiny followed.

They never allowed Basara to settle in their world, in their lands.

No one loved her.

Sometimes she was called a witch, sometimes a demon, sometimes a monster, sometimes……

She did not know how cursed her own *invincibility* was.

To not die, not be hurt, not be violated—

Meant not knowing respect, not knowing emotion, and likewise being unable to share them.

—*Basara, this place is your ideal world.*

After wandering for a long time, when she finally reached the Demon Realm, the Demon King had said that.

After countless fierce battles, she became one of the Seven Lords.

It was only natural—fighting was the only thing she knew.

A realm where only power ruled everything.

Was that not worthy of being called an ideal world?

But life in the Demon Realm quickly grew dull as well.

Excessive selfishness, contempt and mockery of the weak—everything felt monotonous.

“I heard the humans’ Grand Expedition has begun?”

“Grand Expedition? What’s that—can you eat it?”

At some point, demons began whispering among themselves.

A large-scale human invasion was expected.

Humans had always intruded into the Demon Realm, but a full-scale assault had not happened for centuries.

“But why are humans suddenly attacking us?”

“Did someone kidnap a princess again or something?”

“Tch, humans invading—what a joke.”

The demons scoffed.

They mocked humans, saying they weren’t even worth stepping on.

Throughout history, humans had attacked the Demon Realm countless times—

But never once had they succeeded.

They would slaughter them all.

“Undead King Ahram has been defeated.”

Ahram’s defeat was unsurprising.

He was stupid, and aside from sheer numbers, utterly unimpressive.

But the news that followed made her tilt her head.

“Lord Issera has……”

Her younger sibling, Issera, had died.

The humans had discovered Issera’s irregular weakness.

Issera could freely change his own “weak point”—how they found it was baffling.

And that wasn’t all.

Not long after Issera’s defeat—

“Lord Mammon has……”

Mammon died, followed by the deaths of the Fourth and Fifth Legion Commanders.

The lords of the Demon Realm were struggling against humans.

Even though the Demon Realm itself should have been hell for humans.

Amid countless adverse conditions, they continued to expand their foothold.

And at the center of it all—

Was one man.

At that point, even Seventh Lord Basara grew curious.

*Wilhelm.*

Who was he?

What kind of man was conquering the Demon Realm?

Basara silently watched him.

“Knight King, press forward!”

“You must not stop!”

“Do not let our sacrifices be in vain!”

Everyone believed in Wilhelm and followed him.

They offered themselves up, devoted everything they had, all to push Wilhelm forward.

“…Very well. I shall.”

Wilhelm took their faces into his eyes.

Then, turning his back, he silently swung his sword.

From that moment on, he never turned back again.

As though he cared nothing for what happened behind him.

That was how deeply he trusted them.

He had entrusted his back to everyone.

Seeing that back, humans placed even greater faith in him.

…Basara had fought on countless battlefields, but she had never seen anything like this.

To her, humans were creatures of distrust.

They pretended to believe you to your face, then stabbed you in the back.

Basara herself had suffered countless betrayals at the hands of humans.

Those who coveted her power inevitably grew afraid of her—and tried to kill her.

Those who are too strong are always rejected.

Faith?

Trust?

Devotion?

All meaningless.

They were things people only ever demanded *from* her.

And yet…… Wilhelm—what of him?

“My name is Wilhelm. I am called the Knight King who leads these people. What is your name?”

He was in tatters.

By the time he stood before Basara, his body was drenched in blood, one eye barely able to open.

The neat appearance he must have had at the start of the Grand Expedition was now completely disheveled.

It was a miracle he was still alive.

And yet he asked her name—with courtesy.

What kind of man was this?

“None of your concern.”

“Your name—what is it?”

“….”

Instead of answering, Basara raised her sword.

They were enemies destined to kill one another.

What use was knowing each other’s names?

She had never once given her name to someone she intended to kill.

*Clang—!*

The clash followed.

With just a single exchange, one could understand their opponent.

She instantly realized how astonishingly refined his swordsmanship was, how sincere his attitude toward the blade.

“You.”

More astonishing still—

“With each exchange—”

Wilhelm—

“What is your name?”

Kept asking her name.

Was he insane?

…Or did it mean he had that much Leeway—even while facing her?

Basara drew out more power.

She replicated Wilhelm’s swordsmanship perfectly.

This was why every swordsman who faced her fell into despair.

Completely grasping an opponent’s technique—and going one step beyond it.

“I asked you your name.”

“…You’re persistent.”

“Answer me. Otherwise, I’ll keep asking even after the battle ends.”

“…?”

“T-bagging…… no, never mind.”

What nonsense was he suddenly spouting?

Why was he acting so awkwardly?

As their exchanges grew more frequent, Basara felt increasingly strange.

Behind Wilhelm—

It felt as though *someone else* was there.

But it was only a guess.

She could not see it, not even with her ability to pierce all phenomena.

*Someone even I cannot discern?*

Curiosity stirred.

She *had* to find out.

Basara devoted all her focus to tracing that unknown presence.

Wilhelm could not kill her anyway.

How could he discover a weakness even she herself did not know?

Unlike her brother Issera, Basara had no weakness.

At least, that was what she believed.

And so—

Seventh Lord Basara imitated *everything* about Wilhelm.

Not just his swordsmanship.

The minute tremors of his muscles, even his breathing.

She read everything as though predicting the future, deducing his thoughts.

She felt that then she would see it.

That she would sense what lay beyond him.

A perfect reverse pattern.

She had never concentrated this intensely in her life.

—*Thump.*

…That was when it began.

Her heart, long motionless, began to beat.

She felt it.

A line of emotion she had never experienced before.

This was not Wilhelm’s emotion.

It was the emotion of the one controlling him.

The presence he was emitting.

That being seemed delighted while watching Basara.

More than that, it felt like it wanted to see how far she could push herself—how far she could follow.

*Thud!*

At last—

When the sword pierced Basara’s heart—

Only after being pierced did she see it clearly.

The being beyond.

She felt it unmistakably.

At that moment, Basara wanted to tell someone—

Not Wilhelm, but the one beyond him.

“My name is……”

Her name.

Seventh Lord Basara.

She died like that—

Realizing the weakness she herself had never known.

“Stop it, you mad god……!”

…With the last thing in her sight being Wilhelm dancing atop her corpse.

*

*

 

Where is this place?

—*You are a Dragon God.*

A gentle, tender voice spoke.

It was likely her mother.

—*A guardian of the world. A truly magnificent being.*

Is that so?

—*Cherish this world. Love it.*

…Is this world worth loving?

No.

No one loves a world like this.

She does not consider herself a Dragon God.

Seventh Lord Basara.

Commander of the Seventh Legion of the Demon Realm, the one who burns the world.

—*Thump.*

Yet she cannot forget that tremor.

Once more, her vision changes.

She sees a man facing the Demon King.

Here was a man who loved Pangaenia so deeply that he sought to save it.

His name was Park Hyun-myung.

The presence beyond—unknown at the time—

Now stood clearly before her eyes.

“You showed me.”

Now she understood.

What her weakness truly was.

At first, she thought it was because she loved Park Hyun-myung.

And that was not entirely wrong.

Her weakness—

“Is someone who truly loves Pangaenia…… that is my weakness.”

Only one who sincerely loves this world can disarm Basara.

No—only one who makes *her* come to love this world can kill her.

At the same time, she realized—

Her dream.

Her forgotten memory.

“I think…… I wanted to become a Dragon God.”

…From the very beginning, she had wanted to be a Dragon God.

She wanted to love this world—even if she had to force herself to do so by setting such conditions.

That was why it became even clearer.

Why Park Hyun-myung was accepting death.

The one enjoying Pangsenia before her now, and the Park Hyun-myung she had seen in reality, felt like entirely different people.

…At some point—

Park Hyun-myung had stopped enjoying Pangaenia.

“I want to see you enjoying it again.”

Seventh Lord Basara placed her hand on Park Hyun-myung’s shoulder.

The two goddesses looked at her with strange expressions.

Wilhelm, Randolph—even the Primal Heavenly Demon.

No matter.

She did not care.

Instead, Basara asked him—

“My name is Basara. What is your name?”

She returned to him the same question he had once asked her.

Until he answered.

Again and again.

Relentlessly.

Because this—

Was the only way to bring him back to life.