Chapter 145: The Ultimate Winner

"The diary is visible yet untouchable, but if it exists somewhere, it must be within my spiritual body."

Saul focused on sensing the diary’s location.

Almost instantly, he felt an indescribable connection—one end attached to his left shoulder, the other stretching into an endless abyss of darkness.

"Found it!"

But just as he made this discovery, Morten’s massive hand swung toward him. Saul had to dodge the attack, and the moment he lost focus, the mysterious connection was severed.

Morten’s palm struck the ground as Saul evaded, shattering a corner of the already damaged circular platform. The falling debris vanished into the darkness below.

If Morten still had his sanity, he might have continued attacking the platform, destroying the ground until Saul had nowhere left to evade.

But he seemed completely oblivious, focusing only on attacking Saul.

"Good thing this guy has lost his mind," Saul muttered, resuming his attempt to summon the diary.

Yet again, Morten’s tail lashed out, forcing Saul to leap away, breaking the connection once more.

"This can't go on!"

Though Morten’s movements had slowed slightly due to his occasional bursts of pain, his two claws and tail launched relentless attacks, giving Saul no chance to concentrate.

As another claw swiped toward him, Saul gritted his teeth and stopped dodging. Instead, he lunged forward, closing the distance between them.

With a few quick leaps, he climbed onto Morten’s back and wrapped his arms tightly around the creature’s neck, avoiding its massive crocodilian jaws.

Morten’s claws and tail immediately reached back, his grotesquely twisted body allowing him to attack from all angles.

As long as it wasn’t Morten’s all-devouring maw…

Saul clung tightly to Morten’s thick neck with both arms and legs, using all his strength while focusing his mind once more on calling the diary.

This time, he refused to dodge. Sharp claws pierced into his flesh.

Saul clenched his teeth and forced his eyes open.

He could feel it!

A gust of wind howled as Morten’s tail stabbed downward from above.

Dodge, or… not?

In the most perilous moment, a hardcover book suddenly appeared in Saul’s hands.

There was no time for questions, no moment to process the absurdity of it. Saul gritted his teeth, tilted his head left, and swung the book with all his might—its sharp corner smashing into the back of the wraith’s skull.

"Pfft!"

Morten’s razor-sharp tail impaled Saul’s right shoulder, exiting through his left abdomen.

"Hiss…"

A faint hissing sound escaped from Morten’s skull.

Saul’s body trembled violently from the pain, his teeth chattering.

But he reminded himself—this was the consciousness realm, not his physical body. He could still move!

Saul yanked the diary free, spotting a gaping hole in Morten’s skull, where tiny soul fragments were now escaping.

A grin spread across Saul’s wounded face.

He struck again.

Another deep crack formed in Morten’s skull.

"AAAAHHHH!!" The wraith let out a deafening scream and lashed its tail, flinging Saul away.

With a loud smack, Saul crashed onto the ground, rolling until he slammed into Hermann’s headless corpse.

Gritting his teeth against the agony, Saul turned his gaze toward Morten.

The wraith’s body was convulsing—expanding and contracting erratically. Countless fragments of its soul spilled from its skull, only to be desperately sucked back through its mouth.

Morten was struggling to reclaim his lost fragments, oblivious to the fact that his body had reached its limit.

"It’s about to explode!" Saul realized.

He seized Herman’s metal body and used it as a shield.

BOOM!!!!

BOOM—BOOM—

Explosions rocked the space, their force overwhelming.

Saul gripped Herman’s back tightly, curling himself up as much as possible.

Shards of soul and debris whizzed past him, vanishing into the abyss behind.

Even Herman’s body couldn’t withstand the repeated blasts and was ultimately shattered into pieces.

In the next second, Saul was caught in the storm, barely managing to grab onto the edge of the platform to avoid being flung into eternal darkness.

Time passed.

When the explosions finally ceased, Saul hung in mid-air—one hand clutching the diary, the other gripping the platform’s edge.

Ignoring the pain, he pulled himself up.

The battlefield was littered with dismembered limbs and floating soul fragments.

Cracks ran across the platform’s surface.

"My spiritual body is definitely injured… I wonder if there will be any lasting effects."

Saul cradled the diary and began walking toward the center of the platform.

"A legendary artifact, yet I’ve been using it like a brick. I thought the diary was just a locator, but I was too naive. A true locator is much more than that. If I want this diary to serve that purpose… it won’t be easy."

Pain slowed his steps.

Suddenly, a glimmer of purple caught his eye.

It was Bill’s last remaining fragment—a small, wriggling purple foam that had somehow avoided being destroyed.

Tiny tendrils extended from the foam, pulling it toward the platform’s center.

Bill’s face appeared on the foam, grinning.

"Saul, you’re finished this time! I’m about to take control of your body!"

Saul’s expression remained calm, but he subtly quickened his pace.

"When I get there, I’ll crush you."

Bill’s grin stretched wider, nearly splitting his face.

"Hahaha! You’re too late! The moment I take over your body, I’ll self-destruct! If I’m dying, you’re coming with me!"

"Shit! You bastard!" Saul’s face darkened, sprinting forward.

But Bill was closer to the center.

"Hahaha! So what if you’ve been to Grindstone Town? That decayed old mentor of yours will never guess what we’re really up to! Hahaha! Once we—"

Bill’s voice became frantic as he neared the platform’s center, his excitement mounting.

Then, he noticed a shadow looming over him.

Something was descending from above.

"What…? Saul can’t cast magic here."

Before he could react, a thick hardcover book slammed down with a loud "PAH!", smashing the purple foam into tiny fragments.

Bill’s laughter cut off instantly.

Saul hobbled forward, picking up the diary.

He let out a long sigh.

"Shit… that scared the hell out of me!" He patted the diary, stepping into the center of the platform.

"That was a total fluke. So, diary bro… you aimed that throw, right?"

Saul hugged the diary, sighing.

"Still the most reliable thing I’ve got."

He stood in the center.

Silence.

As if confirming something, the platform began to collapse.

Shattered soul fragments, floating whispers, and scattered limbs dissolved into specks of starlight.

Most of the starlight dissipated into the darkness. A small portion, however, was drawn to Saul, healing his wounded spiritual body bit by bit.

"The pain is gone? Actually… I feel full somehow."

At that moment, Saul’s body began to fade, but he remained calm.

He instinctively understood—he was returning to his physical body.

After all, this consciousness realm was merely a mental construct.

Now that it was no longer needed, it would return to nothingness.

In the end, only the diary remained, floating in the void—the one true constant in this realm.

As the space emptied, the diary’s cover slowly flipped open.

Pages turned rapidly until reaching the final entry.

From the depths of darkness, three black shadows descended, merging into the diary’s pages—three irregular black sheets added to its contents.

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