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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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Chapter 137
- ……
Ian fixed his gaze on the unexpected figure that had suddenly appeared.
Within the hood, whether it was due to magic or some kind of sorcery, only pitch-black darkness could be seen.
However, he could feel a gaze coming from where the eyes should be.
The party, fully tense, stood ready to engage in combat at any moment.
Ian cautiously tried speaking.
“Hey.”
- ……
“Why aren’t you saying anything?”
- ……
“Are you the one in charge here?”
- ……
The unidentified figure remained silent but continued to stare intently.
With hands hidden in their long sleeves, they didn’t budge an inch.
Ian frowned. It seemed they were reacting to his voice.
If they could just say something, it might provide some information about this place.
But watching silently after suddenly appearing was undeniably irritating.
“Diem.”
No response. But realizing the implication of calling their name, Ian quickly aimed his bow and shot without hesitation.
Ping!
With a sharp sound, an arrow flew fiercely.
Though ghostly in appearance, they dodged by tilting their head, as if the attack might still hurt them.
The arrow, imbued with magic, must have been exceptionally fast, yet they evaded it.
Ian, however, didn’t just stand by. The moment he saw the arrow dodged, he drew a dagger from his belt, hurled it, and dashed forward.
“Ian!”
Gawain urgently called out at the sudden break in formation, but Ian didn’t respond.
Once he had started moving, stopping and turning back was absurd.
He couldn’t waste time waiting from afar for the opponent to act.
At that moment, the figure drew a hand from their sleeve. In their right hand was a sharp dagger, emanating a sinister aura.
Ting!
The thrown dagger was deflected. It didn’t matter. That was just a ploy to keep the opponent in place.
In an instant, Ian closed the distance and swung his holy sword upward in a diagonal slash.
The magic imbued in the blade was released, forming a cutting arc that carried a powerful slash along its path.
Kwaaaaaa!
The figure leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack. Then, as soon as they steadied themselves, they vanished into thin air, as if scattering.
“……!”
They were fast. Immediately, Ian heard the rustling of fabric to his side. The figure reappeared ghost-like, unleashing a rapid series of sharp strikes.
Ian quickly parried the attacks and swung his sword again as the opponent caught their breath. There was no time for probing tactics.
[Blood Claw Style: Sky-Piercing Strike]
The magic-imbued blade accelerated instantly, extending explosively in length.
Piiiing!
The attack pierced the shoulder of the figure’s robe. However, no blood spattered.
Even the sensation at Ian’s fingertips felt as if he had merely pierced a thin layer of fabric.
Ian frowned. The enigmatic opponent retreated and seemed to scatter on the spot once again. Even their presence became faint.
"Behind you!"
Gawain's voice rang out.
He already knew—he had seen it. The flow of magic was vividly clear in Ian’s eyes.
As he turned his head, he saw the figure lunging from behind. The distance was minimal.
Barely a step ahead. In that fleeting moment, countless options flashed through Ian’s mind.
The decision didn’t take long. The dagger held in a reverse grip was aimed at his heart.
Ian, without hesitation, extended his bare hand toward it.
[Bane of Evil Sixth Form: Sacred Flame Armor, Partial Deployment]
Whoosh—
Flames erupted from his hand, forming the shape of a gauntlet that grasped the dagger.
The flames were not mere heat but possessed a hardness akin to metal.
Crack!
The sound of the dagger scraping against the gauntlet echoed. The sharp blade could press no further, blocked entirely.
The subtle tremor running through his arm signified a contest of strength.
- ……
Normally, one would panic in such a situation, but the opponent showed no sign of disturbance.
Ian’s gaze reached into the hood, but it was filled with pitch-black darkness, offering no clue to their identity.
The figure of the "Faceless One" came to mind, but this being’s presence was far too faint to be an Outer God.
Holding the dagger firmly in his left hand, Ian raised the holy sword in his right and drove it forcefully toward the opponent.
Bang!
But the holy sword struck only the ground.
Ian lifted his head to look forward. The opponent had retreated about ten paces in the blink of an eye.
‘What kind of person is this?’
Ian was baffled.
The strike just now was at an angle that couldn’t be avoided. Yet, at the moment the blade touched their robe, the figure disintegrated like thousands of flower petals, scattering.
When Ian saw the petals reassemble into their form, the figure before him felt more like an illusion than reality.
‘Are they completely unharmed?’
That couldn’t be. The act of scattering was undoubtedly a magic-consuming technique.
What Ian wielded wasn’t just any sword—it was a holy sword. When imbued with magic, even spiritual beings could be harmed.
And yet, they had retreated unscathed? There had to be a cost. The dagger in his left hand was proof that the figure was indeed present in reality.
Crack—
As Ian applied force, the blade fractured and crumbled into dust, dispersing with the wind. Perhaps they could ignore damage below a certain threshold.
‘If that’s the case….’
Just as Ian was about to draw more magic, the figure slipped their hand back into their sleeve. It was a gesture that seemed devoid of combat intent. Then, the figure spoke.
“Stop.”
Ian paused. It was a soft, feminine voice. The robed figure’s build appeared imposing, making it unexpected.
“…What?”
“There is no point in continuing this fight.”
“Who are you?”
“Cyphry. One of the priests who serve the gods. So do not fear. I am not your enemy, nor the enemy of your group.”
“Then why did you attack us?”
“Do not distort reality. Was it not you who attacked me first?”
That was true. Suspicious as they were, Ian had called Diem to fire an arrow. And he had been the one to charge in immediately after. No one could argue otherwise.
However, that didn’t mean Ian was going to apologize.
“If you had an issue with it, you should have said so from the start. Who’s at fault here for staying silent even after being asked several times?”
“I admit it,” the figure replied. “But to clarify, I simply didn’t want to waste my precious time.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t have much time. Even having this conversation is pushing my limits. And what meaning would there be in speaking to those with insignificant skill? They face nothing but death ahead—just like the ones who entered earlier.”
It was clear the figure referred to the mercenaries sent in advance by the Inoria Foundation.
“What happened to them? Are they all dead?”
If they were, there would be no point in searching for them. Ian could focus directly on locating the Angel’s Key. He hated to admit it, but part of him hoped none had survived. However, the figure’s answer was far from satisfying.
“I don’t know. I am neither a prophet who can see the future nor in a state to observe this defiled temple. But it’s not difficult to predict they’re on the brink of death.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“They were weak. Both mentally and physically. They wrapped themselves in the guise of duty, but their weakness was undeniable.”
“What do you mean by a ‘defiled temple’?”
“Exactly as it sounds. The scum from the Outer World have polluted the sanctity of this temple and twisted the teachings of the divine. Don’t you feel the unease? The nausea? It will only grow worse as you proceed deeper.”
“Even so, I have to go. I can’t turn back now, not after coming this far—no matter if there are Outer Gods waiting inside.”
The figure immediately reacted with displeasure.
“The divine is singular. Those scum cannot be called gods. They must not be called gods. Words carry power. They are impure beings, preying on human desires and fears to interfere with this world.”
“I know that.”
“…I’ve answered your questions, so now it’s my turn. Are the ones behind you as skilled as you are?”
Ian nodded. “In some ways, they’re far better than me.”
“That’s good. Then what is the reason for your visit to this defiled temple?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“Because I can assist you—if you help me in return.”
“It’s not like I need your permission to enter here, is it?”
The figure shook its head. Though its face was hidden, the movement of the hood made it clear.
“You’re right. The temple doesn’t reject those who come to it. Even though it’s been polluted and corrupted, its essence remains unchanged.”
“So you’ve even accepted those scum?”
The sarcasm in Ian’s voice was evident, and the figure seemed momentarily agitated. However, it quickly restrained its emotions and continued.
“…That’s a misunderstanding. They weren’t accepted; they invaded. Just like in the past. We’ve talked too much already. I don’t have time. I know your intent here isn’t pure. You seek something—artifacts or treasures left in the temple. I know where they are and will give them to you.”
“In exchange for dealing with the scum?”
“Yes. It’s a transaction. Of course, you’re free to refuse. Either way, you’re going to enter. That won’t change.”
“We could just leave.”
“Heh, really? Though I’m bound to this place, I know you cannot leave. With your current strength, you don’t stand a chance of breaking through the barrier.”
Ian’s expression turned subtle. That wasn’t entirely true. With Geokchang Pamael, he could probably punch a hole through the barrier. But he didn’t feel the need to reveal that.
“I wouldn’t ask for your help lightly. If you could leave, I’d tell you to bring someone of higher caliber. But since you can’t, I’m asking for your cooperation. I don’t like it, but there’s no more time to waste.”
The figure’s identity remained suspicious. While it claimed to be a priest, Ian wasn’t naive enough to take its word at face value. For now, he decided to observe the situation.
“Fine. So, will you guide us?”
“Yes. At the very least, I can ensure you don’t get lost in this maze of a temple. It’ll save time and help you avoid unnecessary complications. But don’t expect an easy path.”
Grrrrnnnn—
The tightly shut temple doors began to creak open with a deafening noise.
The figure melted into the darkness revealed by the opening doors, its voice lingering behind.
“Enter.”
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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