Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Master of Myriad Arts (1)
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Soon, people began murmuring.
"Huh? Did I hear that wrong? A porter's saying he'll go into a dungeon that even rankers fail at?"
"He looks like a necromancer from his training, but still... no way, right? Unless he's a Dark Lord."
"Yeah. Isn't that guy over there just a beginner necromancer who can only summon skeletons?"
"Hey, you. Better not do anything stupid and just stay put. No matter how frustrating it is."
"Yeah, that old boss hits hard for real."
Some shook their heads.
Others tried to dissuade him soothingly.
With the mood sunken from Gi So-yul's repeated failures.
They were probably worried I'd stir up unnecessary conflict.
"Hey."
At that moment, one of Blue's A-rank hunters stepped forward.
The one with the moniker Swift Sword, Shin Sung-hoon.
"Why don't you act like a porter and just carry the luggage? Don't show off."
His words were a bit rough.
I understood.
The situation wasn't going well, and it was frustrating.
A rookie-looking porter stepping up would naturally piss anyone off.
'Well...'
If it were the old me, I might have backed down.
He was exuding a ferocious aura incomparable to those orcs from a few days ago.
"......"
My breath actually caught for a moment.
Was this the feeling of killing intent, like my head could roll at any second under his blade?
But.
My gaze was resolute.
No hesitation.
*Why? You've all been failing every time.*
*You keep challenging it despite the failures.*
*You've tried plenty enough.*
*So shouldn't you give me a shot at least once?*
"Oho, what's this? Won't even avert your eyes? Guess he thinks he's somebody because the Lady's been polite with him..."
Swift Sword muttered quietly as he approached.
His hand was already resting on the hilt at his waist.
A moment later.
"Stop it."
A firm voice cut through the tense cave.
Everyone turned their heads.
The source was Blue's second-in-command, the Dark Empress.
Her expression unreadable, she stared straight into my eyes.
"Is it because you don't trust me?"
Gi So-yul's voice was flat, without inflection.
Was she exhausted?
Or had her pride been wounded?
"That's not it."
A brief silence followed my reply.
How long did that suffocating moment last?
Her lips parted slowly.
"By the original contract, you're just a porter. You have no right to input on dungeon exploration."
"I know that well."
"Then may I ask why you want to challenge it?"
She tilted her head slightly as she asked.
I answered.
"The old man said he's looking for someone with potential."
"And?"
"I have a feeling his 'grudge' lies in raising a disciple. And potential is just that—raw material, not a finished product. It doesn't mean current skill."
"Hoo, so not killing the old man, but taking him as a master?"
"That could be the hidden clear condition."
Hidden piece.
Dungeons occasionally had alternative clear methods.
And in those cases, the rewards were even greater than usual.
"Hidden piece..."
Gi So-yul pondered, chin in hand, then nodded.
"Fine. But what about the disciple? Are you saying your potential surpasses mine?"
Gi So-yul furrowed her brow slightly.
Swift Sword beside her glared ferociously.
Ugh, the atmosphere kept getting more hostile.
I quickly waved my hand side to side.
"No, the odds are against that..."
"You're not denying it outright?"
"Umm..."
This is bad.
What if I don't even get to try and get taken out here?
I hurriedly came up with another excuse.
"No, that's not it. Umm, pain... yeah, pain! It's the pain everyone else has felt. I'm the only one who hasn't experienced it here. No sense of camaraderie. Feels like I'm being ostracized, you know? Plus, weren't you resting anyway, Lady Dark Empress?"
A scoff escaped Gi So-yul's lips.
Then she made a face like she'd expected it.
"Right, that expression. Now you're showing your true colors."
True colors? Expression?
What was that all of a sudden?
"You've been like that from the start."
"Huh? What do you—"
"I told you. You were suspicious. Waiting at the dungeon entrance with eyes like a wolf on the hunt, not the look of a mere porter."
"......"
"Greedy for the dungeon rewards? What, hoping for some fateful encounter during the clear?"
Good lord.
This woman.
Shouldn't she be a fortune teller instead of a ranker?
Reading minds just from eye contact like that.
Or was it obvious?
'Anyway.'
My intentions were exposed.
It was quite rude, too.
A porter who'd been promised twenty times the pay, now eyeing the dungeon rewards as well.
But.
"Go ahead. Give it a try."
She tossed it out casually, like it was a hassle.
"No answer anyway. Like you said, I wanted a break. Works out fine. Can't say much as a failure myself."
"Really?"
"Yes. But just one chance. As you see, emergency rations are gone, and no rescue team's coming. We need to clear it ASAP."
Hmm, suddenly felt a bit burdensome.
But the outcome wasn't bad.
Jackpot if I succeed.
No loss if I fail.
My face might get a bit of a reputation hit.
But since even rankers couldn't clear it, it'd just end as some young punk's mishap, right?
"Got it. Thank you."
I bowed politely.
I knew well how big a gamble it was handing a high-difficulty dungeon clear chance to someone else.
Could lose major rewards if it went wrong.
She was probably 100% sure I wouldn't clear it anyway.
'For now.'
I'd owe her one.
Step, step.
I cautiously approached the 'door.'
[Opening the 'door' allows you to challenge the stage.]
[Will you open the 'door'?]
Gulp.
I swallowed, taking deep breaths.
'It's fine, it's fine, it's fine.'
'No one's died from this anyway, right?'
'Worst case, it just hurts.'
I repeated it dozens of times in my head.
Then.
Clunk!
I boldly opened the door.
* * *[Stage: The White-Haired Elder of Deep Grudge]
[His 'grudge' is so great that frost forms on the old man's hair.]
[Defeat the old man.]
Flash!
Light enveloped me the moment I entered.
It slowly faded as time passed.
Whoooosh!
An immense pressure crushed my body as the cave scenery transformed.
"Hngh!"
My lungs wheezed under the overwhelming weight.
Something was visible ahead, but even opening my eyes was a struggle.
What being in the world could exude such presence?
"What, after all those pathetic girls, now an even more worthless punk?"
A voice from the old man rang out clearly amid the dreadful air.
Ah, that.
That must be the 'White-Haired Elder of Deep Grudge' that even rankers toy with.
I knew he was a formidable boss, but his power exceeded expectations.
Overwhelming combat prowess!
I instinctively realized.
The old man could take my life with a single flick of his finger right now.
Gulp, I swallowed.
"Tch, not even worth looking at. Better toss him out quick."
Flicker!
Just as the old man's gleaming eyes turned toward me.
[You confront the memory of the 'cursed' deceased!]
[Hidden condition fulfilled!]
[Hidden condition exclusive to unique ability: Cursed Necromancer!]
'Huh?'
My eyes widened at the familiar golden message.
It was just like when 'The Law of 10,000 Uses!' unlocked.
[Condition: Encounter with the deceased's memory!]
- A necromancer ultimately commands the deceased.
- Encounter a 'cursed' soul with strong obsession.
'Cursed' Necromancer.
'Cursed' soul.
Were the two curses from the same source? Just a hunch?
'Anyway.'
This old geezer was actually a deceased soul.
Cursed one.
And encountering him triggered my hidden condition.
[Congratulations!]
[Hidden skill unlocked!]
[Acquired skill, 'Memory Recreation' (S-Grade)!]
Oh my god?
My dilated pupils widened further.
Forget everything else—one thing filled my vision.
'S-Grade.'
S-Grade skills were legendary.
The kind you got from serendipities within serendipities, repeating fortunes just to snag one!
'Is this for real?'
Right on entry.
The unexpected windfall left me reeling.
Then, another message appeared.
[Using skill, 'Memory Recreation' (S-Grade).]
Using the skill?
Ah, right.
The old man who'd said he'd toss me out hadn't moved an inch.
As if time itself had frozen.
Just as I frowned at the odd dissonance.
[Recreating the memory of the 'cursed' deceased, 'Master of Myriad Arts.']
[Moving shortly.]
Master of Myriad Arts?
Who was that?
Was the 'Deep Grudge Elder' the 'Master of Myriad Arts'?
What even was Memory Recreation?
How did it work?
Before I could grasp the message.
Flaaash!
Blinding light swallowed me whole.
* * *Whooo!
I opened my eyes.
The scene was a snow-covered mountain blanketed in white.
An elderly white-haired man stood there.
"Sigh, this is ridiculous. How can there be no suitable successor? Tch. Can't just leave it behind either."
The old man sighed with a deeply regretful expression.
'Hmm?'
I frowned.
More precisely, tried to.
I had consciousness but no form.
Was this what being a ghost felt like?
Like a dream.
I was overlooking the scene from a third-person view.
"Life is impermanent. After all my efforts to reach this realm, they tell me to abandon it."
White breath puffed from the old man's mouth.
I could instinctively read his emotions.
'First off.'
The old man didn't live on Earth.
It was some new world unknown to me.
'Another world...?'
Yes.
The old man was a transcendent of another world.
The absolute ruler where the orcs I'd met and bizarre monsters overflowed.
'A real otherworld existed?'
It was shocking.
Then again, in a world teeming with dungeons and monsters, why not?
"...It was a long time."
Along with the old man's line, his memories flooded my mind.
"Heh, a pretty fun life, all things considered."
In a world where only the strong survived.
The old man studied countless martial arts and professions.
Swordsman, spearman, assassin, archer, mage, buffer, healer, and more...
"Master all flows as one if you can handle ki smoothly."
Having transcended all, the old man lived extraordinarily long.
Seeming to defy death itself.
Sword Master, Martial God, Grand Mage, Grand Sword Saint...
His titles changed with the eras.
Even such an old man.
Could not stand against time?
He kept aging.
Even his prized 'ki' couldn't halt the decay.
It was grueling.
"Even cool water feels like poison down my throat, and the once-light air now crushes me like lead."
"It's agony, torment. I'm parched."
"But I can't die like this. Too unjust."
The old man had one attachment.
The culmination of techniques he'd researched for centuries.
He wanted the essence of his martial arts passed down.
Losing them was as terrifying as losing 'himself.'
But.
No one in the otherworld could absorb his vast knowledge in a short time.
"How can talents be so lacking? Hate spreading it thin. Want just one good one to teach it all to."
The old man roamed the empire.
Even scoured remote villages in frontier kingdoms.
But no one met his standards.
"Ahh, lamentable! Was one-person succession too greedy after all!"
In the end, he found no successor.
No one could match the old man's once-in-millennia genius.
"Ahhh, please."
He instinctively knew.
His time was running out.
Breath grew labored.
Skin began melting.
Moisture fled his tongue, drying throat and mouth to husks.
"Don't want to go like this."
Gathering moisture welled in his eyes.
Tears he hadn't shed at his parents' deaths or when stabbed in the chest.
Drip!
They wetted the snow.
The aging he'd forcibly stalled with 'ki' accelerated.
Skin wrinkled, bones grew gaunt.
"Even selling my soul... I want to leave the complete 'me' behind."
Frost clung to his hair, icicles to his beard.
Life's end.
The old man's 'grudge' was cold as hoarfrost.
[Ending skill, 'Memory Recreation' (S-Grade).]