Chapter 200
Translator: penny
Chapter: 200
Chapter Title: Vermouth's Claw
*Hic.*
Cheol Jung-bae, who had entered the evil tool vault, kept hiccuping nonstop while chugging down mead.
“Grr.”
He staggered as if his drunkenness had intensified even more.
*Whoosh.*
But the light in his eyes burned more fiercely than ever.
“I wonder when I’ll finally get used to it.”
A dwarf who had faced the destruction of his kind and been reborn—no, a Dwarven.
Having witnessed Travania’s downfall, Cheol Jung-bae had naturally accepted this as a fresh start, and in truth, the Dwarven race had many advantages over the old dwarves.
More than anything, thanks to his rebirth at Go Yohan’s hands.
*Shwaaa.*
The very composition and nature of his base mana had changed.
The power Go Yohan called divinity.
*Hic.*
To those who wielded mana, it was a force utterly different from the old ways—a truly wondrous thing.
“Zealot, Michael….”
It was something he could somewhat understand: why the legend and myth of Travania, Michael, had stood alone against the demon world.
Most of the benefits stemmed from that, but if there was a drawback…
*Gulp, gulp.*
It was the loss of his tolerance for mead—the symbol of dwarves and the root of their race.
Travania’s dwarves were steeped in mead from birth, absorbing its essence into their bodies and growing accustomed to it.
Dwarves who hadn’t reached adulthood couldn’t drink mead outright, but they took it in through other means.
The reason for such obsession was simple.
*Keeiii!*
The evil tools wailing.
It was when those vessels of malice cried out as if they were sacred relics themselves.
“Shut up, you bastards!”
At Cheol Jung-bae’s shout…
*Fwaaa!*
The evil tools vibrated and began to fall silent.
Command over steel. Power over the egos dwelling in objects.
“Kekeke. You worthless scraps making all that racket! Enough of your bullshit.”
That was the effect of mead. One could say half of dwarven strength stemmed from their birthright and mead.
His appearance was no longer that of a short, long-bearded dwarf, but the way he handled the evil tools was straight out of his old days.
“…….”
Even Cheol Jung-bae’s face grew sterner the deeper he went into the evil tool vault.
The face flushed with alcohol regained its color, only to drain pale white.
*Oso-so.*
Goosebumps rising.
“Gruesome.”
Even in Travania, he had rarely felt such a chilling aura.
*Kee-ee-ee-ee!*
At that wail…
“Quiet!”
Cheol Jung-bae yelled, but the sound only quieted for a moment.
*Kee-ee-ee-ee!*
An even more grotesque and eerie resonance spread outward.
*Tremble.*
His body shook harder the deeper he went.
-Legendary.
The space where legendary-grade evil tools slumbered.
Many had already been purified by Go Yohan and released into the world, but even so, impossibilities remained.
“Mythic.”
Another myth slumbered there.
*Wooong.*
The heart of the heart.
In that vast cavern, only a single evil tool lay dormant.
A small dagger.
But the ominous aura it exuded affected the surrounding evil tools, forcing it to be sealed away.
*Grrrind.*
Yusehwa—the roots of the World Tree entwined, suppressing its power.
“Truly a damned evil tool.”
It was practically the shame of the dwarves.
A fallen dwarf. A Dark Dwarf.
An object tied to the birth of the Dvergr.
“Vermouth’s Claw….”
That was its true nature.
*
*
*
*Keeiii.*
A modest dagger, yet the ominous aura it emitted was intensely powerful—beyond comparison to your average demon.
At first, the energy from Vermouth’s Claw had been barely at the level of a two-horned demon.
“It’s grown stronger.”
That ominous energy intensified with each passing day.
*Swish.*
Cheol Jung-bae reached out toward Vermouth’s Claw.
*Pzzt!*
Intense sparks, black darkness, and blood-red rays surged up, rejecting his touch.
Without mead, he would have been enthralled by that light.
“Grr! Filthy thing!”
After pouring in an entire barrel of mead, Vermouth’s Claw finally quieted.
Even then, he could only touch it for an instant.
The moment Cheol Jung-bae’s hand—a hand that wasn’t Go Yohan’s—touched the evil tool that no one else could even grasp…
*Kwaaa!*
The divinity dwelling in his body reacted instinctively and began to rampage.
His hair stood on end, and a deep glow filled his eyes.
Thanks to the mead preventing possession, this was his fleeting chance to inspect Vermouth’s Claw.
*Fwaaa!*
It passed in an instant, and when Cheol Jung-bae came to…
“Hahk, hahk…”
He found himself collapsed far away.
“Haa… Th-thank you, World Tree.”
He realized Yusehwa had helped him.
*Rustle.*
Petals drifted down gently.
And Cheol Jung-bae’s face was paler than ever.
“Our suspicions were correct.”
The lower Dwarven handled the guarding and management of the evil tool vault.
The innermost sanctum was guarded by Yusehwa and the elves.
Gluttony’s security facilities kept it secure, so there was no need to descend.
But…
*Rustle.*
Lately, strange symptoms had appeared in the Dwarven managing the vault.
Mild cases were simple illnesses, but severe ones led to loss of consciousness.
To ordinary humans, it might seem trivial, but for dwarves blessed by mead and protected by divinity, it was dire.
“The previous Vermouth’s Claw, as the Captain examined, was a fake. Or rather, closer to a fragment.”
Speaking to the empty air, to the falling petals, Cheol Jung-bae continued.
“From the start, Vermouth’s Claw… Dark Dwarves.”
No, before the fall.
“It was practically a holy relic of the dwarves.”
Not all the materials for crafting the Evil Dragon’s Dagger came from the dragon’s body.
“Oremug’s Hammer was among the materials, so whatever was made became an unparalleled masterpiece. As you know…”
*Rustle.*
Yusehwa emerged from within the petals.
“Oremug’s Hammer could self-replicate.”
As the World Tree, she knew dwarven history and their relics.
“Indeed. An eternal relic that persists as long as fragments exist. We thought its power lost when it became an evil tool, but…”
“You’re saying it’s regained that power?”
“Yes.”
Cheol Jung-bae’s face was grave.
“The dagger is regaining its true form. Becoming the genuine article. The changes in the evil tool vault stem from that.”
The evil tool’s aura strengthened, influencing its surroundings.
*Kee-ee-ee!*
The previous Vermouth’s Claw had barely held the power of a two-horned demon.
“And that means…”
Now, this mere dagger harbored the might of a five-horned demon.
“Vermouth’s descent is imminent.”
“…We must report to him.”
“Please do.”
*Rustle.*
Yusehwa vanished with the petals.
Cheol Jung-bae turned to leave as well.
“I must hurry too…”
*
*
*
“Why…! Whyyy!”
A scream echoed.
“Save me!”
A cry for help.
“Why….”
And doubt mingled in.
Those crumbling to dust were ones who had once held human form.
The moment they fully turned to dust…
*Fwaaa!*
The scattering dust took on shapes not of humans—something else entirely—before vanishing completely.
They had perished without mustering any real power: demon contractors.
Even on the current Earth, their numbers were few, and among those deemed useful, one title was summoned.
-Apostle.
The Apostles of Evil—that was their identity.
“Any Tom, Dick, or Harry calling themselves apostles these days.”
But to a true apostle candidate, they were utterly repulsive.
Compared to a real one’s power, the fakes’ was laughably insignificant.
A fake’s power might be strong.
‘But it can’t surpass the real thing.’
That was an absolute law.
A law born from their origins and very reason for being.
-Demons.
The hierarchy of demons. The order of the demon world.
It applied equally to those who contracted with demons and became half-demons themselves.
*Swish.*
To the red-haired man Balon, with hair fluttering, other apostles were merely…
“Vermin.”
Vermin he could squash anytime.
But…
*Wooong.*
They did have their purpose.
The resonating red orb made Balon’s hair glow an even deeper crimson.
“Was the meal satisfactory?”
At Balon’s deferential voice…
*Wooong!*
The red orb began to thrum.
Like a child throwing a tantrum, still hungry.
“I understand. It’s not enough for you. Your apostle is working hard, so please bear with it just a little longer?”
Even at Balon’s words…
*Tremble tremble!*
The red orb thrashed harder until finally…
*Kwaaa!*
It transformed, becoming a massive maw.
*Kwachik!*
The giant mouth unhesitatingly tore off one of Balon’s arms. Balon grimaced in pain but silently watched as it devoured his limb.
“…Satisfied now?”
Balon’s arm.
Only after consuming it whole…
*Wooong.*
Did the maw revert to the red orb and quiet down.
*Gurgle.*
Muscles sprouted from the severed stump, regenerating slowly.
Regeneration didn’t erase the pain—in fact, it intensified the agony—but he had no choice but to endure.
The red orb was, after all, the master that made Balon the strongest existing apostle.
“…I’ll procure more food.”
Balon said.
“So that you may manifest.”
Balon’s master. The true nature of the red orb.
“Great Vermouth.”
The Evil Dragon, Vermouth.