Chapter 118
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 118
Chapter Title: Karma
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There are times when the words you spit out don't match what's in your heart. Deep down, Woojin felt a twinge of regret.
'We've come all this way, and it's a shame we couldn't scout the enemy's main base.'
He'd even hoped to catch a glimpse of the Dark Cultists' ringleader—the one they called "Him"—before turning back...
But the enemy's forces were massive, and their defenses unexpectedly tight. Trying to break through would be reckless. One wrong move, and they could end up surrounded from both sides.
'Best to pull back in a situation like this.'
Pushing too hard was a bad habit of his.
As he pondered whether to press a little further north, a story about mountaineers he'd heard before flashed through his mind.
Death Zone.
The spot with the most casualties on Everest was at around 8,000 meters elevation.
While harsh conditions played a big role, psychological factors were also to blame, or so he'd heard.
'The summit comes into view. Just a bit farther...'
That temptation grips climbers, ignoring their body's warnings as they push toward the peak—and meet their end.
In the same vein... Woojin needed to hold himself back too. Charging into the heart of enemy territory just because they'd come this far would be pure idiocy.
He repeated this to himself like a mantra, almost hypnotizing himself as he continued his work.
'Killing so many beasts means collecting the spoils is a chore in itself.'
Woojin and his companions were extracting the inner cores from the beast corpses.
Most were charred black by the thunderbolts, worthless now. But plenty had been lightly seared, leaving their cores intact.
Butchering this many bodies was a hassle. Luckily, Arwen and Coco lent a hand, letting them finish quickly.
"Pile the cores here."
Woojin spread out a large bull hide he'd tanned earlier, like a picnic mat.
Arwen and Coco hauled armfuls of cores over and dumped them on the hide. After a few trips, it was piled high.
He bundled it tight so nothing could spill, then slung it over his back like a peddler's sack.
'Feels like I'm Santa Claus.'
Not just the look—the purpose too. He planned to take these cores south as gifts for the Noll tribe and the wolves.
"I'll carry the luggage bag."
"Thanks."
Each shouldering a massive load, they set off for the distant south.
They'd been marching for a while when...
'...Something's coming.'
A presence stirred from the north. He'd have ignored it if it were just some ordinary beast...
But this aura was anything but normal.
'An ancient being?'
Time to check it out.
Woojin halted midway up the mountain and stared back. Soon, a colossal monster crawled up from beyond the horizon.
His first impression?
'Big and bizarre-looking.'
It resembled an octopus, but enormous. Each tentacle thicker and longer than a tour bus, with two massive eyes on its head.
Red compound eyes, like a housefly's magnified a thousandfold, twitching spasmodically as they scanned the surroundings.
It quickly spotted what it wanted.
Kwa-gak, ka-ga-gak—!
Like a tank rolling forward, the octopus crawled toward something. Its eight tentacles pushed off the ground in sequence, churning up the earth. And strangely, it was fast.
What it headed for was a heap of beast corpses piled like a mountain.
'The ones we left behind.'
Woojin had butchered them for their cores and discarded the rest. Heading a long way meant traveling light.
The octopus had clearly smelled the thunder-roasted meat and come running.
Tzueuk—
Its head split wide, revealing a gaping maw lined with white, blocky teeth like human incisors.
The tentacles scooped up the corpses. Chunks of broken buildings and rocks got mixed in, but the octopus didn't care—it shoveled it all into its mouth.
Kka-deuk, kka-deu-deuk—!
The chewing was deafening.
Its eight tentacles moved in rhythm, relentlessly feeding more into the abyss. A demonic feast.
"...The Abyssal Maw..."
Arwen murmured, entranced. Woojin whipped his head toward the priestess.
"You know this thing?"
"Yes. I've heard the Abyssal Maw is one of the outer gods that communicates often with 'Him'."
An ancient being mentioned in the Dark Cultists' apocalypse texts. Even Arwen was seeing one for the first time.
Woojin pondered her words.
'Communicating with a glutton like that?'
It devoured anything in sight. Bonding with such a beast seemed impossible.
Yet their leader had somehow built a close rapport with it.
That implied one of two things.
'Either a master liar... or a monster with unfathomable power.'
Which was it?
Something to verify later. Woojin had already decided to retreat—no changing his mind now.
Which meant hunting the Abyssal Maw could wait too.
'Can't help it—I'm in rough shape.'
He'd unleashed a barrage of thunderbolts earlier and was running low on steam. Tangling with a powerhouse now would be unwise.
"Let's go."
"Yes."
Leaving the ancient being to its meal, they hurried south once more.
Walk, and walk some more. Woojin slashed through the vines blocking their path with his machete.
"Ow... that stings."
Every so often, Woojin winced. Whenever idle, he'd pluck the dragon scales sprouting on his face one by one.
Arwen, walking beside him, asked,
"Why pull those off? Must hurt."
"Can't show up at the Church Alliance looking like this."
His face covered in gray scales? Perfect recipe for being mistaken for a Dark Cultist.
Arwen voiced her concern.
"...But I am an actual Dark Cultist."
"Just don't get caught. You should hide your powers around others too."
With that, he yanked off the last scales.
It didn't feel great, of course—like being a fish on a cutting board. But necessary.
'Used the dragon scales too long.'
Facing deep-zone beasts meant keeping them active constantly; they wouldn't regress easily. Only way was to rip them off manually.
Once enhanced, physical abilities didn't fade easily. That's why Woojin had deliberately sealed his strength and agility while living south.
'Ugh... maybe I should just wear a mask.'
Sounded comfier than plucking.
But constant masking would look suspicious. No choice—he finished peeling them off.
Anyway...
"Why are you picking those up?"
Woojin suddenly asked. Arwen, secretly collecting the scales, startled.
"...You knew?"
"Hard not to notice."
She'd been stooped over like a woman gleaning barley, head down nonstop.
At his words, Arwen scratched her neck sheepishly.
"Well... hated to see them wasted. Thought I'd make gloves or something."
Scales harder than steel. Prime material for treasure.
'...Not a bad idea.'
Recycling scales into armor.
Woojin could generate them anytime, so he'd forgotten their value. But yeah—rare stuff.
"Here, take 'em."
"Thank you."
He handed them over; Arwen pocketed them politely. They repeated this the whole trek south.
Each pluck tore skin, drawing beads of blood.
The local beasts smelled it.
"Something's coming from ahead."
The presence hit suddenly.
Not as monstrous as the Abyssal Maw, but big by the feel. Woojin warned the group.
U-jik, u-ji-jik—!
Bushes snapped wildly. Soon, a fearless beast poked its head through.
It was...
'...A spider?'
A shaggy-furred spider beast, huge—size of two full-grown bulls.
It looked familiar.
"Hold up."
Woojin stopped the group.
The spider halted at a distance and raised its front legs high—like surrendering.
Seuk, seuwk—
Legs up, it waved them side to side like pompoms.
Familiar gesture too.
'The one from before.'
Days ago, crashing with the dragon abomination into the Demonic Realm's depths. This spider had helped him big time.
Woojin asked what had bugged him since.
"Why help me?"
He didn't expect an answer. But the spider chirped softly.
"Kit, kiiit."
"...I see."
Woojin nodded faintly, as if understanding.
Arwen beside him chuckled.
"Pretending to understand again?"
Like with Coco the squirrel—classic Woojin, faking spider-talk comprehension.
Or so she thought...
"I get what this spider's saying."
Arwen blinked.
"Wait... for real?"
"Yeah. Pretty sure."
"You learned spider language?"
"Not exactly, but..."
Something clicked.
'Mage Enoch.'
The Dark Cultist he'd slain before. Devouring Enoch's core had let him inherit some memories and magic.
Enoch had a special gift.
'Communing with spiders, sensing them.'
Now it made sense—he'd inherited that too. Never tried it till now, so he'd missed it.
Woojin addressed the spider again.
"Your queen ordered you to help me?"
"Kiiik."
Affirmative.
The spider lowered its body. A large basket strapped to its back—woven twigs and silk, nest-like.
"Kick, kiit—! Kiiiii."
Another chirp. Curious Arwen asked,
"What'd it say?"
"It'll take us to our destination."
Noll tribe territory. Fastest, smoothest ride—the spider as their carriage.
Woojin hopped on readily.
"You guys too."
"Is it safe? Spiders are vicious..."
"Trust me and hop on. It's fine."
Urged on, Arwen and Coco approached cautiously, settling beside him. They shoved bags into the basket for backrests.
All aboard. Woojin commanded,
"Let's roll."
"Kiit."
The spider bolted.
Faster than expected. Wind whipped their faces. Acceleration skill, apparently.
'At this speed, we'll be there soon.'
He'd figured one or two months back. Now? Reunion with friends in the Noll lands before long.
The thought brought sudden worry.
"...Will Claire forgive me?"
Woojin muttered to himself. Arwen beside him asked,
"What'd you do wrong?"
"Promised I'd be back soon, but it's way overdue."
"How overdue?"
Woojin mentally counted days, then quit. Didn't want to dwell.
"...No clue. Stopped tracking after a point. At least half a year, I think."
"Hmm..."
Arwen thought, then replied,
"Brace for a scolding."
"If that's all, lucky me."
"Why? She gonna hit you?"
"She picked up some fighting skills."
Come to think—he'd taught her those moves. To smash moldy thugs.
Now it was personal.
'Reap what you sow, huh...'
Woojin sighed, accepting his karma. All his own doing.