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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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Chapter 178
Clap, clap, clap!
Someone was applauding.
"Impressive."
As Ian turned his gaze toward the source of the voice, he saw a man. It was the same person who had appeared as an illusion earlier.
He stood still as if time had stopped, his palms pressed together.
A deep smile played on his lips, and his expression was excited, as if the sight of blood had thrilled him.
"You possess a skill far beyond my expectations. Even if my brothers were lacking in ability, they shouldn't have fallen so easily… That confidence in your skills—it wasn’t just empty talk."
"……."
Ian listened to his words as he threw the dagger in his left hand at the man clutching his side, desperately trying to hold in his spilling entrails.
Thud.
"Urgh."
The blade sank deep into the man's heart. With a short groan, he collapsed forward.
Ian flicked his hand lightly. The three corpses lying on the cold ground, bleeding out, were soon engulfed in raging flames.
Fwoosh!
"Y-You blasphemous wretch!"
"Defiling rest and salvation!"
"How dare you! Do you not fear divine punishment?"
"The Morning Star will never forgive this!"
The mercenaries watching from a distance shouted, their voices filled with outrage.
Their voices overlapped, their raised tones and hostile glares meant to intimidate. But Ian remained indifferent.
He wasn’t burning the bodies to desecrate them. He simply had no desire to witness their corpses undergo transformation under the blessing of the Outer Gods.
A ritual that activates upon death—
Whether it was a curse or a blessing depended on one's perspective, but given that it required blood and souls as sacrifices, it was not something to be taken lightly.
The true terror of dark magic lay in its efficiency—it could achieve great results with little mana, but the risk of falling into madness was always present.
And if it demanded life as a price? Then its potential was even greater, not lesser.
Fwoosh!
Ian tore his gaze away from the burning corpses. Many were watching with wide eyes.
A thick, oppressive aura of dark mana crept closer, trying to coil around him like a vice. But it could not affect his body.
The flames of Bane of Evil wavered like a heat haze, shielding him, while the radiant star within his mind warded off fear and all other negative emotions that sought to invade his thoughts.
"Brothers, what are you afraid of?"
A man who had been silently observing from behind finally spoke in a clear voice. The mercenaries around him, as if entranced, turned their ears toward him.
"The Morning Star we serve… is watching over us at this very moment! And in such a moment, do you hesitate out of fear of death? Open the path for Him through martyrdom!"
The atmosphere shifted. The hesitation disappeared from the fanatics disguised as mercenaries.
They clenched the weapons in their hands so tightly that their grips trembled, ready to charge at any moment.
The man shouted loudly.
"Now is the turning point—"
Ian, who had been watching quietly, had no intention of listening until the end. He launched himself at a mercenary standing at the flank.
Even as he saw Ian move, the man continued speaking without stopping.
"—it is upon us!"
A mercenary raises his sword to block the attack. He seems skilled in swordsmanship, immediately launching a technique, but Ian scoffs and turns it against him.
Slash!
The armor splits apart, and the platinum blade cuts deep into the mercenary’s body.
It was likely made from the tough hide of a magical beast, but the issue wasn’t its poor defense—it was the overwhelming offensive power at play.
He searches for the next target.
Right beside him. Though the mercenaries are briefly startled, they quickly respond.
“The other Outer Gods are merely watching! But our Morning Star! Our God! Is different! He is watching over us!”
It is not mere rhetoric. The mercenaries begin to move, as if proving the man’s words true. As if the Outer God had heard them.
Wooooong—!
A faint radiance starts emanating from their bodies. Unlike a sovereign’s blessing, it carries a somber hue.
But color is irrelevant.
What matters is that the god they serve answers their call. That He is watching. What more could they need?
His attention is upon them, and the Outer God's blessing manifests from their backs.
Shhhk!
Wings of solid black unfurl with tangible form. The "Fallen Morning Star" bestows blessings and divine protection upon His followers—
And to those who do not serve Him, He grants a curse. A weighty force presses down from above, crushing and suffocating.
No, this is a gaze.
“Go forth! Bring down the heretic who dares to obstruct our sacred mission and offer him as a sacrifice to the Morning Star!”
“Uwaaaaaah!”
Before the man even finishes speaking, the mercenaries erupt in a frenzied roar.
Ian frowns at the piercing cries, yet does not stop swinging his platinum sword.
Dozens of mercenaries charge toward a single man.
“Hm.”
The wings growing from their backs do not seem to be mere symbols.
Their physical abilities are dramatically enhanced, and perhaps due to the mental elevation they experience, a glint of madness flickers in their eyes.
Their wide, grinning smiles are nothing short of eerie.
‘How interesting.’
Rather than fear, Ian feels curiosity.
Wings are not a part of human anatomy. If someone were to suddenly gain wings or a tail, how many could realistically control them with precision?
It would feel foreign and unfamiliar—one would likely forget their very existence.
Mastering such an appendage would require extensive training, yet the mercenaries showed no such struggle.
Fwoosh!!
“Hahaha!”
Despite that, they wield their wings as if they were an extension of their own limbs, attacking without hesitation.
They glide through the air with ease and even release razor-sharp feathers.
Moreover, for something supposedly made of pure mana, the wings possess formidable physical strength akin to a mage’s barrier, making them all the more troublesome.
Ian throws a dagger to create an opening in his opponent’s defense, then lightly leaps, raising his empty hand above his head.
Fwoooosh!
[Bane of Evil, First Form—Meteoric Spear.]
The gathered flames take the shape of an elongated spear, gripped in a reverse hold. Without hesitation, he drives it into the back of a mercenary passing beneath him.
Crash!
The moment the spear pierces its target, it explodes like gunpowder meeting fire, engulfing the surroundings in flames.
Fwoooosh!!!
Bane of Evil, the foundation of the Berger family and the very symbol of the Red Spear Knights, was a fundamental technique. However, when wielded by a transcendent who had reached the hierarchy, its power became overwhelming.
“Guaaaahhh!!”
Just because one was consumed by madness did not mean pain disappeared. The moment flames engulfed him alive, a scream burst forth.
The mana forming his wings resisted the flames of Bane of Evil, but in an instant, they lost their shape and melted away within the scorching heat.
He would struggle desperately to put out the fire, but in the end, he would fail and perish.
“Heretic!”
Before his feet even touched the ground, Ian spun his body midair and extended his leg toward the mercenary rushing at him.
[Bane of Evil – Third Form: Flame Kick]
The flames trailing along his instep struck the enemy’s body, sending him flying.
The impacted area wasn't just bruised—his flesh was crushed, and his bones shattered. Every kick was within Ian’s calculations.
“Urgh!”
Another mercenary charging in was caught in the impact and stumbled.
Landing lightly, Ian moved his left hand. It was a simple motion, yet what followed was anything but ordinary. The surrounding flames surged in unison, swelling and twisting under his control.
Whoooooosh!
Like a vortex rising with the wind, the flames spiraled upward in a helix.
Then, without hesitation, they erupted into a fiery storm, spewing fireballs in all directions.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
There were no allies nearby, so he could unleash destruction without restraint.
Dozens of fireballs rained down indiscriminately, igniting explosions upon impact.
“It's coming this way!”
“Gahhh!?”
“Dodge!”
But where could they escape to? The flames leaped onto trees that had stood for decades, perhaps even centuries.
The fire climbed up the dry bark, spread along the branches, and leaped to nearby trees.
Fwoooosh!
In mere moments, the winter forest was consumed by a sea of flames.
The bright light and intense heat drove away the darkness and cold. The shimmering haze infused with Bane of Evil’s properties weakened the influence of the black mana pervading the area.
“…How are we supposed to break through that?”
A mercenary, seemingly freed from madness, muttered as he stared at the fiery vortex.
Even if one could cut through magic by imbuing their blade with mana, this had surpassed the level of a simple spell.
Fwoooosh!
They backed away, unable to get closer, yet the firestorm only grew larger, expanding its reach.
At least it had stopped spewing fireballs, but the surrounding flames alone made them sweat profusely.
“Brothers.”
A man who had been silently observing from the back finally spoke, his voice laced with disappointment.
“What are you hesitating for? The Morning Star will be disappointed in your incompetence. I already feel lost on how we should beg for forgiveness.”
“But… how do you expect us to break through that? If you're so confident, why don’t you take the lead yourself?”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
The man gripped the scabbard at his waist and pushed the blade out slightly with his thumb.
Then, in a flash of light, he drew his sword—slashing through the mercenary beside him in an instant.
“!?”
The mercenary’s body was sliced diagonally. His arms fell to the ground with a dull thud, his torso slid apart, and blood gushed out.
“Of course, you brothers will have to sacrifice yourselves for me.”
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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