Returning to the previous world is a must, but he was not going to return to how it was.

He would keep being better than his past; that is his promise to himself.

Breaking a promise to others was one thing—but breaking a promise to himself is an entirely different matter. The latter was far worse. That kind of thing would haunt him—without a doubt. If he failed the vow he made in his own heart, he wouldn't feel worthy of calling himself a man at all.

In fact, now that he thought about it properly, he'd rather die.

Marsha stared at him in surprise.

He was yelling to leave right until a few seconds ago, and now, he has suddenly changed his mind.

Unlike not too long ago, she was now closer to Deklan, but she never realized he was that indecisive.

"Are you really going to stay, young master…? Even if that'll kill you." She asked timidly.

Now it felt like she forced her to stay behind.

"Fuck me…"

"Young master?"

"This is a fucking bad idea," Deklan ripped the torn tunic that hugged his body loosely, exposing his torso for all to see. He now has muscles. Not that much—but his exercise didn't go to waste. "Fighting a silver-rank Ghost, and I'm still at five-star iron rank… People are going to call me a fucking moron."

Deklan would be a laughingstock if anyone found out what he was going to do right now.

But for the sake of my pride, and also for the sake of looking cool—Imma do it!

[That's the spirit, host.]

"What are you standing there for?" Deklan glanced at Marsha sharply. "Move your legs and start helping those people get to the red tower."

"R-Right!" Marsha yelped and immediately turned to do exactly that.

But as she took a step, Deklan caught her hand.

She looked at him and tilted her head in confusion.

"Young master?"

"If I die for real and you somehow survive…"

Marsha's chest tightened when she heard those words, not wanting to even imagine that happening.

She wanted to refute, to say that it wouldn't happen, but Deklan's face was serious.

And the words couldn't come out of her mouth.

"I want you to bury me properly… and then bury yourself beside me."

"Eh?"

"If I die, then it's mostly your fault, so don't even think about surviving, you hear me? Now, go."

Deklan shoved Marsha away before looking ahead again.

No sign of the Alpha Ghost anywhere.

Frankly, he was thankful for it to give him space to breathe, but it certainly had a more sinister intent than that. He didn't know what that intent was, but right now, he felt that something was watching him intently like a stalking crazy ex after a bad breakup.

It was still hiding, waiting, watching what he was going to do.

Now that I'm determined to kill it, I think I could sense where it was.

Deklan looked to his left with only his eyes.

He felt it was on the roof of the house to his left, and he didn't want to provoke it to attack.

Even though he didn't quite understand how the wooden roof could support the weight of that creature, that's besides the point.

I still have the Lethal Durian. It'll be detrimental to use it—on the Alpha Ghost, but that's hard to do. I can easily butcher that by missing. Right now, my best bet is to summon Sasaki. And to do that, I need Spooky Dollars.

Naturally, Deklan's mind was thrown to the Hellhounds and Flaming Skeletons outside.

It was the only way for him to gather the remaining 300 Spooky Dollars to bypass the Ward's cooldown.

But the question is how?

Deklan has to protect Marsha and the people behind him, so separating wouldn't be ideal.

At least until the people were rescued and brought to the red tower, there's nothing he could do.

Pumple… System, the Slosa Hamlet is within the Ward's territory, right?

[Yes.]

Put Pumple in prison and summon him near the edge. Have him kill the Flaming Skeletons.

For a good minute, Deklan stayed completely still.

But there were no notifications.

Deklan could feel the weight on his shoulders was getting heavier.

He was hoping that Pumple could at least kill a few Flaming Skeletons and gather Spooky Dollars that way without him needing to move, but he forgot that, like him, Pumple was also at the iron-rank. As for the Flaming Skeletons, they were at one-star bronze-rank.

Of course, Pumple wouldn't be able to kill them.

[Pumple has been killed and returned to the Ward.]

[Cooldown: 1 hour]

Fuck!

Deklan cursed inwardly, but the Alpha Ghost was already tired of waiting.

Swish!

Feeling the shift in the air, Deklan fired a couple of rounds at the Alpha Ghost that lunged towards him from the side. He might be standing still, but he already placed the Glock-19 between his body and arm, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

Bullets struck the Alpha Ghost, but it did nothing.

"Kaahkk!"

Deklan wanted to roll forward, but a tail already struck his side hard.

Its impact resounded loudly as one of his ribs snapped.

Rolling across the ground, Deklan immediately recovered—and raised his gaze, only to find the Alpha Ghost turning translucent. He witnessed it turning into its wraith form; its body evaporating into a thick streak of flames.

Before his eyes, the Alpha Ghost went into the nearby lantern on the ground and disappeared.

"Possession?" Deklan's pupils dilated in shock.

At the same time, the broken lantern suddenly glows with a blinding flash.

Swish!

[Major Presence: Burning Flash has affected the host!]

Deklan recoiled backward as the Spirit Talisman around his neck shattered almost instantly.

It couldn't block the overwhelming might of the Major Presence.

[Sanity has been decreased significantly!]

[Status Effect Applied: Blindness]

[Status Effect Applied: Anguish]

[Status Effect Applied: Burn]

Fighting a silver-rank Ghost; this is the first time for Deklan.

And naturally, he has never experienced the full brunt of a Major Presence.

"RAARGHKK!!"

Deklan's scream tore through the air, an animalistic sound that was born of pure agony.

It was as though every nerve in his body had been dipped in a furnace of flames—a searing, meticulous fire that cooked him from the inside out. But the physical torment was merely the gateway. Beneath the blaze, a deeper violation took root.

Somehow, the Major Presence also influenced his emotions.

It touched his grief and fear and brought it forth.

[Notice: the host's sanity is nearing a critical level!]

Anguish hollowed him out, scraped his spirit to resist, until the very concept of resistance—felt like a distant memory. Even when his throat was sore from the scream, he kept going as it was barely anything in comparison to the other pain he was feeling at this very moment.

But the Ghost made a mistake in resurfacing the memories of Paul.

Just the sight of Paul sitting alone in the living room surrounded by death brought Deklan back.

He gritted his teeth.

Even though he was blinded, his eyes glared straight at the broken lantern.

Deklan remembered where it was, and with a big struggle, he raised the Glock-19 and opened fire.

Each bullet drained his mana, but he kept going.

And when a lucky shot struck the broken lantern, the overwhelming sensation disappeared.

Deklan blinked his eyes as vision swam back.

But everything was blurred and useless.

Shapes bled into one another, impossible to define in an instant.

Across this smeared canvas, faint spirits swirled—not quite transparent, more like distortions in the air that slipped in and out of his view. Moreover, a sound pressed in hard to fill the void left by his fading scream.

A low, chattering whisper from countless voices layered over each other.

Deklan couldn't understand what they were saying; they spoke in a language of sibilant hisses and guttural murmurs. It sounded more like a chant, even if the words meant nothing. And quite frankly, the voices were very loud.

It vibrated his eardrums heavily and hammered the base of his skull.

Even though he was in battle, he was forced to cover his ears with both hands, trying to mute the loud whispers. But the Alpha Ghost doesn't care whether Deklan was ready or not as it flicks its muscular tail at him, sending him crashing away.

Flames burst from the Alpha Ghost's mouth as it pointed its snout upward.

And when it brought its snout down again, a fireball burst forth.

Boom!

Several houses near the explosion range were shattered instantly while the shockwave spread beyond.

Even Marsha, who was guiding the rescued people to the red tower, was pushed hard and slammed hard against the wall. She used too much mana to protect the rescued people that there was not enough mana for her to protect herself.

Selfless like always.

"Young master…" Marsha called as she held her hurting arm.

She looked at where the explosion came from as tears drizzled down her face.

One hit from the Alpha Ghost, and it almost crippled Deklan.

If Deklan was struck directly by this explosion, then the possibility of death became very real.

But though the attack was disastrous, Deklan survived.

"Huarghkk!"

Blood welled in his throat and spilled from his lips with a series of ragged coughs.

Deklan lies on the ground facing the golden sky that was already about to drown.

Fire surrounded him from all sides, as the fireball earlier landed almost perfectly on him.

"I guess there's no other choice," Deklan groaned painfully as he sat up, knowing full well that he would probably need to assimilate with Pumple and activate his persona. "I don't want to use it, but that's the only way I can see myself faring better against this thing."'

Back when he used the persona for the first time, it felt surreal.

Cold and immense power had flooded his veins, and with it came a detachment that was not his own.

He was not Deklan in those moments.

His body became a vessel for Pumple, and that's how he gained more power.

It was intoxicating to use—but that intoxication would also bring out the bad part of him, and that was more than enough reason to use it sparingly. His reluctance to use it constantly again was twofold when he heard Rock mumbling he being a gold-rank Exorcist.

If this form was a marker of that elite rank, then wielding it was a beacon.

Deklan would be drawing the exact attention he wanted to avoid, at least until he was ready to face his family. More than that, he starkly remembered that his form was quite unpleasant while the persona was active.

He didn't want to scare the people of the hamlet.

But that's the only option right now—unpleasant or not, he has to transform.

"Agna, you're up…"

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