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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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Chapter 166
Riorg Ribella.
The Necromancer of the Ten Thousand Demons War.
“!”
Ian's eyes widened.
A heavy magical force pressed down on his shoulders and head, as if he had stepped into another space.
If he hadn’t steadied himself, he might have collapsed face-first into the ground. His body flinched instinctively at the sensation.
He recognized the opponent the moment he saw him, but his sword did not stop. Instead, he tightened his grip on the hilt.
Whether intentional or not, the old man who appeared before the wraith showed no sign of surprise.
“……”
He simply shifted his gaze indifferently, as if he had been watching everything unfold.
Kakakakak!
At that moment, a silver-tinged magical blade scraped against Ian and Abella’s swords.
It wasn’t blocking them—it was repeatedly scraping their blades from top to bottom, forcibly twisting their direction.
Like a ship caught in a storm, the swords lost their course.
If only they had struck the staff, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but instead, they embedded themselves into the ground.
Abella and Ian immediately pulled back.
Shashashak!
A thin line was drawn in the air, followed by a translucent blade slashing through the empty space.
Twelve strikes in total. At first glance, they seemed random, but if one retraced their previous stances, it was clear that every attack targeted a joint.
Ankles, the back of the knees, pelvis, waist, elbows, shoulders, neck—any of these being cut would have been fatal.
Ian’s lips curled into a smirk.
‘Terrifying.’
There were signs before the magic was cast, but the speed of the spell was absurd.
It was far faster than physical movement. This was why he despised mages.
Those below a certain level were useless, but those who had reached mastery could single-handedly overturn a battlefield.
Depending on their area of expertise, their capabilities varied, but at the very least, Riorg Ribella—this old man—was capable of anything.
One-on-one combat, multi-combat—none of it would be an issue for him.
But the real problem was the wraith.
‘The domain’s expansion…’
The wraith’s mental image was being projected into reality, altering the environment.
However, the activation had halted midway.
The eerie light that had been seeping from the ground was also fading.
Furious at Ian and Abella’s combined assault, the wraith had been unable to control its emotions and resorted to its trump card—deploying its Unique Domain.
Yet the moment Riorg Ribella appeared, it fell completely still, as if nothing had happened.
“…Hmph.”
Riorg Ribella exhaled and raised his staff.
Though it seemed deeply embedded, it slid out effortlessly, as if it had merely been buried in the sand.
He had not spoken a word nor made any particular move.
Simply appearing was enough.
But that didn’t mean he was unscathed.
Wherever he had fought, it had been intense. His robes, likely enchanted with powerful magic, were slashed to rags, leaking mana profusely.
It was clear that their protective properties were gone.
Yet rather than making him seem vulnerable, it only added to the overwhelming pressure he exuded.
Old Monster.
That was the only way to describe this necromancer.
Even Abella hesitated, unable to recklessly charge forward—so unlike how she had fearlessly attacked the wraith.
She knew as well.
This was not an opponent to be provoked lightly.
If they rushed in recklessly, there was only one possible outcome.
Defeat meant death.
It didn’t just mean death—it meant that one of the few Heroes in the world had fallen into the hands of an Outer God.
Even in death, there would be no rest. The soul would become a trophy, a spectacle for the beings of the Outer World, while the body would be cast aside in a miserable state.
This wasn’t a curse—it was a certain and foreseen future.
The fact that she stood her ground, blade pointed forward, without stepping back, was proof of her unwavering resolve and courage.
However, Riorg Ribella seemed entirely uninterested in the Hero. For a necromancer, she would undoubtedly be an exceptional material, yet he didn’t spare her a glance.
Instead, he fixed his gaze on Ian and spoke.
“So we meet again, Ian Berger.”
“I don’t think we were ever close enough to exchange greetings like this.”
At Ian’s retort, Riorg Ribella let out a deep chuckle, as if amused. His eyes and smile carried a dangerous glint.
“To think a mere child, barely past his youth, would remain this insolent. I should be grateful for your consistency.”
“That won’t change anytime soon. Not for you, especially—you who have allied with the Outer Sea.”
“Is that so? By now, you should have experienced firsthand what this world truly is. Yet, it seems you still haven’t realized. How pitiful. I’m surprised you haven’t died a meaningless death already.”
There was no need to entertain his words. This was nothing more than idle chatter. But that didn’t mean it was without meaning.
“Were you hoping I’d die?”
“Of course not. If anything, I’m quite grateful that you’ve survived this long.”
Judging by Riorg Ribella’s state, it was clear that his battle with Hero Gailgron had ended unresolved.
He must have come here to regroup, drawn by the presence of the wraith.
If Ian could just stall for time, Gailgron would arrive soon. Or perhaps he was already here, holding his breath, waiting for the right moment to strike.
That was likely the reason Riorg Ribella hadn’t made a reckless move yet.
It was only a vague assumption, but knowing that a strong ally was either nearby or soon to arrive gave Ian some room to breathe.
“That’s a relief.”
“A relief? That I’m alive?”
“That goes without saying. But more than that, I’m relieved that your attitude hasn’t changed. If you’d shown fear upon seeing me, I would’ve been quite disappointed.”
Riorg Ribella tilted his head, cracking his neck. A sharp, grinding noise echoed.
Then, with cold eyes, he stared Ian down and continued.
“More than anything, I truly appreciate you interfering with my work once again.”
“Hm? I don’t know what you mean. We haven’t crossed paths since that day, have we?”
“You don’t need to see my face to get in my way.”
Ian let out a dry chuckle. Judging by his tone, he wasn’t just saying that for effect.
What could he be referring to? If it was something related to necromancers since their last encounter at the ruins, the only thing that came to mind was stopping Avia from reviving the corpse dragon in Gehiel.
But even that could hardly be called true necromancy.
Avia had used the lingering thoughts of the dragon, sacrificing countless monsters to resurrect it as a new being.
While the act of raising the dead was similar, strictly speaking, it was closer to a chimera than proper necromancy.
Or had they been working together?
“For someone your age, you sure come up with some fresh nonsense. If that’s the case, you should’ve handled it yourself instead of leaving it to Avia.”
“…?”
A flicker of confusion crossed the old man’s face.
“Avia? Why are you bringing up that woman’s name?”
“…Weren’t you talking about what happened in Gehiel?”
“It’s extremely unpleasant to be associated with that woman. I’m talking about Flaming. Ben Jinniman. You’ve killed yet another one of my disciples, following Yan Etodi. You also ruined the plan I was preparing.”
“Do you not remember?”
“Well, I’ve caused so much trouble everywhere I go.”
“You’re truly a scoundrel. Running wild without a care for the heavens.”
Ian was dumbfounded. Did he think Ian was causing havoc because he wanted to?
“What kind of nonsense are you spouting?”
Wherever he went, there were Dark Mages. Every request he took was connected to the Outer Sea.
It meant the world was nearing its end. The problem was that Dark Mages were crawling inland like cockroaches, hiding in the shadows and operating in secret.
It was ironic that they were getting angry when they were the ones causing the problem in the first place.
Ian continued speaking in a voice filled with suppressed anger.
“To others, it might look like I’m intentionally targeting you. But who’s the one sneaking around, hiding their identity, acting like this land belongs to them? Are you upset that I’ve disrupted your business?”
“Hah, so you didn’t even realize these matters were connected to me.”
“If that’s a problem, then start labeling everything—your projects, your disciples. I’ll make sure to interfere with every single one. Instead of peddling crude drugs in the shadows, why don’t you come out in the open?”
The moment Ian displayed his hostility, the wraith standing behind Riorg Ribella made its move.
With a flick of its hand, shadows stretched across the ground and slashed upward like a rising blade.
Kwa-ka-ka-kak!!!
Abella was the first to react. She slashed her sword diagonally, and its radiant light erased the shadows.
“Stop.”
The wraith raised both hands, preparing to unleash magic, but halted the moment Riorg Ribella spoke. It didn’t even ask why.
“If I wanted to fight, I would have done so already. I may be a bit tired, but killing you wouldn’t be difficult.”
“I thought your grudge against me was deep. Seems like you’re holding back. Did you just come here to see my face?”
“You could say that. I was curious about who took down Sir Galan. To think it was you.”
Riorg Ribella glanced around, as if searching for someone. However, there was nothing visible at the moment.
“Ian Berger. Consider yourself lucky. If not for that loudmouthed nuisance, I wouldn’t have let you off so easily. No… since you even defeated Sir Galan… perhaps I should wait for you to grow a little stronger.”
“Are you planning to use me as a replacement for that skeletal knight?”
“You took down the sword that protected me. It’s only right that you take its place.”
Riorg Ribella lightly tapped his staff against the ground.
Tap.
With that light motion, a complex magical array etched itself into the ground. It was a feat only a high-level mage could accomplish.
He was clearly preparing for spatial teleportation. Just as the magic was about to activate, a gray light washed over the world.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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