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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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Chapter 157
“Wow….”
Ian let out a hollow laugh.
It had been a long time since he experienced something like this. It was a relief that he hadn't fallen straight into enemy ranks. He slowly looked around.
He wasn’t sure what kind of structure he had merged with, but the irregular protrusions from the walls and floor made movement highly inconvenient.
Reaching out, he touched the wall to his left. It felt cold and rough, like an old basement. Clenching his fist, he lightly struck it.
Boom!
With a loud impact, the wall caved in, sending fragments scattering.
It wasn’t as sturdy as he expected. Bringing it down wouldn’t be too difficult.
‘Would it be better to just summon Pamael and carve a path?’
However, what concerned him was the presence of the Holy Knights somewhere within this labyrinth.
Considering how he had been dropped into an unexpected location the moment he passed through the temple’s barrier, it was likely the others had experienced the same.
If he recklessly threw Pamael, there was a high chance someone in its trajectory would get caught up in the attack.
“Hmm.”
If that happened, unless it was a truly desperate situation, he would undoubtedly be criticized.
Even if he couldn’t be a hero, he still wanted to hold onto the dream of becoming one. He couldn’t bring himself to do something that would weigh on his conscience.
Letting out a small sigh, he closed his eyes and heightened his senses.
Wooom!
Mana spread from beneath his feet, transmitting the shapes of surrounding objects to his mind. With brief concentration, he could perceive details even beyond his line of sight.
It gave him a slight headache, but nothing unbearable.
What stood out was how, as if painting on a blank canvas, certain areas appeared as voids—like holes poked through with an awl or a pen.
These voids varied in size, almost as if they were marking territories, and some of them were even moving.
‘…If I go this way, I’ll definitely run into something.’
After a moment of deliberation, Ian headed in that direction.
Perhaps due to the temple’s barrier, there were no Holy Knights nearby—he couldn’t hear the clash of weapons at all.
With their numbers, at least one or two should have ended up in this area.
“Hehehe.”
A laugh echoed. Someone was there.
Ian gripped his Holy Sword and rested his hand on the dagger at his waist.
As he reached the passage and peered inside, he saw a priest holding a sword, laughing as he stared into empty space.
His shoulders were slumped as if he had just suffered heartbreak, and his unfocused eyes gazed into the void while he let out hollow chuckles.
Ian observed him. The man was skin and bones, as if he hadn't eaten in days. It seemed that what he had perceived as voids were actually people wielding cursed weapons.
It was something he had vaguely anticipated. He could judge how dangerous an opponent was based on the size of the void.
Sensing a presence or perhaps feeling Ian’s gaze, the priest suddenly snapped his head around, locking eyes with him.
“Hehe.”
“…….”
His empty eyes began to glint with murderous intent, and the next moment, he kicked off the ground, launching himself forward.
Instinctively, Ian pulled out his White Jade Tower dagger and threw it.
The instant it left his fingertips, sparks flared in midair, and the dagger was deflected.
Clang!
‘He deflected that?’
His reflexes were sharper than expected. His emaciated body looked far from trained, yet he wasn’t just agile—he was quick enough to scale walls.
Ian let out a hollow laugh as he thrust his holy sword forward. A heavy, weighty strike came crashing down.
Kaang!
It was rare for cavalry to possess any special abilities. Most of them relied on enhanced physical prowess, focusing heavily on brute strength.
The priest he was facing seemed no different. Ian could tell just from crossing swords—his skills weren’t all that impressive. Not that it was surprising.
“……”
After all, he was just a mere priest. His physique was far from that of a warrior, likely having learned only basic self-defense techniques at best. His swordsmanship was nothing more than wild, reckless slashes with no form or finesse to speak of.
Yet, for someone so unskilled, he must’ve picked up a thing or two somewhere. After striking and retreating, the priest circled around, grinning widely as he slashed upward from behind.
Ian sidestepped the attack with ease, reached out, and grabbed his opponent.
“!”
The priest’s eyes widened in shock as Ian seized his collar. He struggled frantically, trying to break free.
“How pathetic.”
With a snort of disdain, Ian hoisted him up and slammed him hard onto the ground.
Thud!
“Gah—!”
No matter how out of it someone might be, a hit like that would force a sound out of them reflexively.
While the priest was gasping for air, choking on his own breath, Ian casually kicked his hand.
Clang!
The priest had been gripping his sword tightly, but the sudden jolt caused him to lose his grip.
However, losing his weapon didn’t bring him back to his senses. On the contrary, his attention became fixated on the fallen sword. Ignoring everything else, he twisted his body desperately to reach for it.
“…How pitiful.”
Ian stood there, silently watching. There was no sign of the priest regaining his sanity.
Whatever time he’d spent in this place had severely corrupted his mind. Even if Ian subdued him now, it was unlikely he’d return to normal later.
As the priest scrambled to grab his fallen sword and push himself up, he suddenly froze.
Unbeknownst to him, he had stepped into a crimson circle.
A moment later, flames ignited.
Fwoosh!
“!?”
A fiery blast erupted violently, engulfing the priest in an instant.
Whoooosh!
The towering pillar of flame roared, its intense heat illuminating the surroundings.
It wasn’t even some elaborate technique. It was simply fire, drawn from the ground and unleashed skyward.
At that moment, a sound like the very fabric of space quivering echoed, followed by a powerful surge of magical energy crashing in from deeper within, like a shockwave.
It wasn’t aimed at any specific target.
In response, faint ripples burst forth around Ian, emanating from what he referred to as the Void, quickly enveloping the area.
—Shiiiii…
Ian frowned. He heard something—an unnatural sound that couldn’t have occurred naturally.
‘Mental contamination?’
That couldn’t be it. While the ominous atmosphere and oppressive air of the labyrinth were certainly unpleasant, they weren’t enough to cause psychological distress.
More importantly, not much time had passed since he entered the temple.
Though unsettling, his mind remained sharp, and his sense of self unwavering.
The priest’s blessing was still intact, the Holy Sword in his hand performed flawlessly, and Bane of Evil functioned without issue.
Above all, the star shining within his mental landscape—his Spiritual Star—radiated with brilliant light.
‘Then what is it?’
He had no clue. But at the very least, he could sense where he needed to go.
No—this wasn’t just a vague hunch. Whatever was unleashing that surge of magical energy deeper inside the temple was clearly drawing something in.
Come here. I’m waiting right here.
Without letting his guard down, Ian advanced. The space resembled a labyrinth, but thanks to his ability to detect magic, he could navigate without the risk of getting cornered.
Most of those he encountered inside the temple were priests.
They all wore the same eerie expression—grinning vacantly into the air. It felt like they’d soon start drooling before collapsing dead on their own.
Ian conducted several experiments to subdue them, hoping to restore their sanity, but none had any meaningful effect.
“…Hmm?”
While moving forward absentmindedly, after several brief skirmishes, the faint scent of blood drifted to his nose.
It was faint, but unmistakable—someone was fighting nearby.
Through magical detection, Ian could sense the layout of the surroundings. Ahead was an unusually large open space.
He approached cautiously. The narrow corridor gradually widened, revealing a violently devastated area.
The walls had crumbled, pillars—whose purpose was now unclear—stood broken, and splashes of crimson blood stained the ground.
The corpses of ashen-clad Holy Knights lay strewn across the floor in grotesque states, their bodies still warm.
Their swords were shattered, and their armor lay in pieces, scattered like discarded scraps.
In the dim light, figures clashed in silence—silent but deadly.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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