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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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Chapter 159
Three knights clad in gray armor were driving a priest into a corner, their poleaxes raised.
Yet, the priest, smiling brightly, showed no signs of being pushed back against the knights.
His spear techniques, learned from some unknown source, were wielded with dazzling precision. He even scraped the ground, launching slashes upward.
"Amazing."
One of the knights watching from behind murmured in genuine admiration.
Bishop Tarminan, also unable to take his eyes off the scene, responded.
"All the time and money spent on purification… it was meaningless."
"Pardon?"
"Arteinan’s Poleaxe. A relic estimated to be from the era of Rogolrod, capable of elevating its wielder to the level of a master spearman. A Rank 3 Cursed Weapon."
"That’s correct. You still remember it."
Tarminan let out a wry chuckle.
"I was the one who retrieved it personally. Of course I remember."
"What do you mean by meaningless?"
"It’s been two years since we placed it here. And yet, it continues to radiate such thick dark mana. What do you think that means? It means all our efforts were in vain."
If anything, the situation seemed worse than before. Perhaps this space was drawing out the weapon’s power to its very limit.
'Otherwise…'
Tarminan’s gaze shifted to the priest locked in combat with the three knights.
The priests who resided in the Gray Sanctuary were not battle priests.
They had learned basic martial arts for self-defense, but that did not mean they had rigorously trained their bodies.
Even if that cursed weapon had the ability to impart knowledge of spear techniques, it would be useless if the wielder’s body was not prepared to handle it.
'That’s how it should be.'
Yet, an impossibility was unfolding before their eyes.
If the priest were in his right mind, the strain on his body alone should have made him scream in pain.
But due to his mental corruption, even proper thought was impossible. His actions were unrestrained, devoid of any guilt.
'Then how is he using holy power?'
In essence, he was no different from a madman.
As the thought crossed his mind, a murky golden halo emerged above the priest’s head.
The sudden phenomenon made everyone watching widen their eyes in shock. In the next instant, the halo shattered into tiny fragments.
At the same time, the priest’s body came to an abrupt halt, as if forcibly stopped.
The knights seized the opening and struck. His arms and head were severed in one swift motion.
“…The Sovereign.”
Bishop Tarminan lifted his head to the ceiling. The dull and featureless appearance of the Gray Sanctuary loomed above.
Though its form differed greatly from his memory, that was not what he was focusing on.
Beyond it, in a place unseen by the eye, there was a presence. Not cold, not warm—an eerie yet comforting sensation. A strong presence resided there.
"He is… watching over us."
As he murmured those words, a brilliant golden radiance rose like pillars around those who had retained their sanity.
"This is…!"
The silent Holy Knights unconsciously gasped, murmuring the name of the Sovereign.
The mental exhaustion that had accumulated since entering this labyrinthine Gray Sanctuary seemed to wash away, like dirt carried off by flowing water.
The eerie stillness no longer felt discomforting or oppressive.
"Advance."
The bishop knew exactly where he needed to go.
He just had to follow the periodic waves of mana emanating from deep within the labyrinth. That was where the culprit behind the current state of the Gray Temple would be.
* * *
Ian looked down at his sword, engulfed in roaring flames.
The blade glowed red-hot, radiating intense heat, and the hilt was no longer something he could hold onto.
The ornate gold and gemstones that once adorned it were the same. The constant hum had also fallen silent.
The weapon had lost all of its functions as a relic.
‘…….’
Just as he was about to step forward, Ian sensed the darkness that had settled over the temple beginning to wane.
At the same time, the surroundings brightened, and an unknown yet immense power enveloped his body.
Whoooosh—
With a pleasant resonance, golden light surged around him.
“This is…?”
It was divine power. A blessing so powerful that it made any comparison to a priest meaningless. And within it, he could sense a will.
Restrained fury.
He knew immediately whose it was. This had to be the Silent Sovereign, Damrak.
One of the Twelve Sovereigns who guarded the world had turned his gaze to this place, and the ominous energy of the Gray Temple-turned-labyrinth was rapidly dissipating.
However, those who had already suffered mental corruption would not return to their original state.
‘…Hm?’
Traces of life, previously concealed by a shroud that even mana detection couldn't penetrate, were suddenly appearing one by one.
Some were fighting in the void, while others wandered aimlessly through the labyrinth.
It would have been ideal to join up with them and proceed together, but they weren’t exactly close.
‘It’s not like I can go out to meet them.’
Waiting was also awkward given the distance. And he had no idea how long the Sovereign’s blessing would last.
‘I should hurry.’
There was no need for guidance. Even though the Gray Temple had turned into a labyrinth, all that mattered now was getting inside.
If he held out for a bit, someone would eventually catch up.
──────!
The moment he made up his mind, another powerful wave of mana erupted from within, but it wasn’t as intense as before.
It was proof of why they were called Sovereigns—there was no longer any mental interference at all.
Ian let out a faint smile and began walking forward.
‘This feels… like I’m a hero.’
No, more like a warrior.
Normally, he wouldn’t let himself get carried away like this, but how often in one’s life did they receive a Sovereign’s blessing?
On top of that, conquering a labyrinth alone was something he never would have attempted before his regression.
Of course, it was more that he had never had the chance. Before meeting the Hero, he had always moved with a group, and after meeting the Hero, he had gained many capable allies.
Tap tap tap—
The sound of footsteps rushing toward him echoed.
When he turned his head, he caught only an afterimage, but he saw the figure gripping a pair of short daggers, their entire body cloaked in mana.
Invisibility magic.
Feigning surprise, he looked around as if searching for them.
Thinking they remained unseen, the figure approached him without hesitation.
“Hehehe!”
They let out a snicker and swung their reverse-gripped dagger.
Ian deflected it with ease.
Clang!
Even in their corrupted state, their emotions remained intact—eyes widened in shock.
Ian smirked and cut them down.
Splat!
Blood gushed violently from the open wound, splattering a few drops onto the clothes, but it didn’t matter. A little blood during a fight was nothing unusual.
However, the attacker wasn’t alone. Armed foes charged in, each wielding different types of weapons.
Swish—
A dagger was drawn from the waist and gripped in a reverse hold before being driven into the opponent’s nape.
“This is excellent.”
The Lord’s Blessing. Its effects were far greater than expected. Much better than taking Wigner Gamma.
No side effects, and even accumulated fatigue faded quickly.
Highly satisfactory. With this level of physical ability, it felt like victory was assured regardless of the opponent.
But—
"I was told I passed..."
When the supposed gatekeeper said entry would be granted, it seemed like there wouldn’t be any obstacles.
Yet here they were, swarming in, like bees drawn to a fragrant flower, even though they hadn’t stepped into the restricted area.
The only fortunate thing was that they were coming one at a time.
“Hm?”
Ian paused. A dense aura of hostility spread through the air.
A foul energy exuded from the dead.
A clattering sound rang out, and from the darkness, pale white skeletons began to emerge.
“Oh. Of course.”
It wasn’t going to end this easily. No surprise there.
Now armed, the skeletons held swords and shields. Their weapons, conjured from dark magic, were elaborate—a sign of a skilled Dark Mage.
Perhaps even an entity of high rank.
Ian kicked off the ground and plunged into the midst of the skeletons.
His holy sword, wreathed in Bane of Evil’s flames, slashed through them. The moment they were cut, the flames spread, consuming the skeletal forms.
Fwoosh!
It was as if a massive bonfire had ignited. Leaving the blazing skeletons behind, Ian pressed forward.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Surprisingly, the fully revealed skeletons were attacking the ones wielding magic weapons.
"Aren’t there a bit too many of them?"
The Dark Mage’s location was unknown, but even just the magic signatures detected numbered in the hundreds.
And their combat prowess was extraordinary.
A priest wielding a two-handed blunt weapon was smashing the skeletons with frenzied strength, but they didn’t stop even when their limbs were severed.
Instead, they lunged more aggressively, snapping their jaws menacingly. Outnumbered, the priest was overwhelmed, falling to the ground and getting butchered to death.
“……”
Ian watched as a skeleton took the priest’s magic weapon.
The master of these undead was unknown, but their goal was clear—to retrieve all the magic weapons within the Grey Temple.
Naturally, they would take the "Queen" inside as well.
Ian’s pace quickened, turning into a full sprint.
"There?"
The temple entrance finally came into view.
Skeletons stood guard, and beyond the collapsed doorway, a barrier shimmered.
There was no need to fight his way through.
Bending his knees, Ian gathered strength in his thighs and launched himself into the air, channeling his magic.
[Bane of Evil - Second Form: Comet]
Like a streak of fire, he shot toward the open doorway.
The skeletons seemed to be capable of communication, as one raised a shield to block his path.
“Hah.”
How absurd.
Ian extended his foot and stomped down on the shield.
A single skeleton couldn’t possibly withstand it.
It had braced itself, but in the end, it was merely a stepping stone, losing balance entirely.
Scrape! Scrape! Scrape!
At the very least, its shield had remarkable durability.
Sliding across it, Ian smoothly entered the Grey Temple.
The barrier didn’t seem designed to keep out intruders, as it allowed him to pass without resistance.
Inside, the Grey Temple was in ruins.
Signs of a fierce battle were everywhere—cracked columns that looked ready to collapse at any moment, floors stained with pools of blood, severed corpses, and scattered piles of bones like grotesque ornaments.
Ian slowly shifted his gaze toward the temple’s depths.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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