Chapter 101
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 100
Chapter Title: Chaos in Sector 8
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Sector 8 was in an uproar.
It was all because of the suddenly cut-off broadcast from the rotation.
At first, even the viewers who nodded along with "Oh, one of the participants' arms got lopped off clean—it's one of those real bloodbaths that erupts every few decades" were starting to grow invisible horns from the endless wait.
At the very least, give us a heads-up on what's happening.
This isn't how you run things, is it?
Anarion Family.
Do you have no sense of responsibility toward your viewership?
Viewer count times wait time—it's worth calendars flipping by the second every moment...
How many years of our time are you wasting?
Do you think we have time to burn?
And the ones who went to watch live are dead silent.
Ah, so they're the only ones getting the good show?
Is that why Cecil got disqualified? What the hell.
Spill some info already!!
As their frustrated voices naturally rose,
"Hold on a second."
Someone raised a finger, pointing somewhere.
"......What the hell is that?"
At the tip of that finger, at the edge of the empty sky, a massive tree came into view.
It was drenched head to toe in blood, like a bucket of it had been dumped over, not a single gap in its crimson hue.
True to Sector 8, Primerus Zone where the old ways were preserved, skyscrapers that blocked the view were rare.
It didn't take long for everyone to take in the blood-soaked giant tree.
And naturally, the Anarion family was among them.
A monster had dared to take root in the land they ruled.
"Dared" was the perfect word.
The ominous aura carried on the wind couldn't be overcome by noble fury.
Especially since the family's present and future were gathered right there.
The family's elites drew their swords.
Not out of distrust in the Sword Saint.
His blade had already reached the heavens.
Simply fulfilling their duty as guardians of this land, they boarded the transport ships. Even a few of the usually heavy-hipped elder councilors were among them.
Even in their hasty preparation, that force sent shivers through the city.
It took just over ten minutes to arrive.
In the slowly ascending transports, the swordmasters silently placed hands on their hilts.
They didn't know.
While the blooming tree devoured the city's attention, comrades elsewhere were bleeding out and falling.
Cecil Florence.
The only great-granddaughter of the family head, Navia Florence, she had been evaluated as having middling talent compared to her peers who shone early as heirs.
She was the sort who spent her entire youth just opening dimensional gates between the spirit realm and the present world.
Of course, this was relative; considering dimensional magic's extreme complexity—something many couldn't grasp in a lifetime despite endless effort—Cecil's talent far surpassed the average.
Had she been just another family member, that ability might have been reevaluated as true genius.
But she was an heir.
A being who had to relentlessly prove herself until reaching the top.
Cecil worked hard.
The years hoping her steady pace would catch the geniuses' brilliance weren't short.
And so, for a long time.
Finally, when she properly communed with a spirit and succeeded in contracting...
She saw Kendrick.
He was a hardworking genius.
"Cecil? Nice to meet you. This humble self is the Cerebellum..."
Kendrick, whose arrogant face suited him since childhood, surprisingly smiled brightly the first time he saw Cecil.
She later realized it was the smile he gave those he didn't see as rivals.
Someone who grew kinder the more inferior they were.
Setting aside the wound to her pride, Cecil looked around first.
And took in the two people Kendrick was always itching to devour.
Ryukard Anarion.
Carlos Gershtein.
Monsters who had their next family head positions locked in at a young age.
Especially Ryukard, said to possess talent surpassing even the Sword Saint.
The once-in-a-century genius the world had waited a hundred years for.
Embarrassingly,
Cecil couldn't even guess how strong Ryukard was.
That was the gap. And there was still so much life left to live.
Ah. So that's it.
The day she belatedly realized why Kendrick turned childish around Ryukard.
And the day she became certain there would never be a place for her among those bickering three, forever.
Though her spirit was nicely broken, Cecil still fulfilled her role.
From the dim predawn sky until it dyed orange and finally lost its light.
She worked hard, and harder still.
A hardworking mortal had to at least try.
And then Thea appeared.
A collateral branch member just a year older, a wanderer.
Grandma—no, the family head—had found her by chance during a solo ramble, or so the story went.
She still remembered the fussy spirits swarming around Thea's indifferent, brushing hands.
Yes, it must have been from that day.
When everything began to change.
Thea attended the heirs' fellowship event.
Kendrick flew into a rage, they said.
For the petty reason that her gloomy face rubbed him wrong—and surprisingly, Thea fought him right there, trading blows for quite a while.
She was the same breed as the trio who sat together but kept hearts distant.
The strongest esquire.
A being loved by spirits.
At some point, Thea became Thea Florence.
Granting a collateral branch the family name was extremely rare, yet no one objected.
Because behind Thea's ever-weary face, the high fire spirit Agni breathed flames.
Clap clap clap.
The family's applause for one person.
Cecil felt something crumble deep in her chest.
It wasn't pride tumbling powerlessly.
It was her past life.
Why?
The hollow sense of loss felt like it might share the same span as her own days.
Ah, so that's how it was.
In that moment, Cecil humbly accepted the fact she'd been avoiding.
Thud.
And as her shattered heart hit bottom and rolled without chance to mend, amid roaring cheers, Cecil silently turned away.
No one sought her.
Huff, huff—
Starting with ragged breaths, torn skin here and there, bruises everywhere. Disheveled hair, eyes red and bloodshot.
Looking every bit the madwoman, Cecil spoke.
"You...... don't...... know."
Kendrick frowned at that.
"I don't get what you're saying, but pull back the mana first. You'll really die."
Not an empty threat. Cecil was already burning her life force to squeeze out mana; the end was obvious without waiting.
Taking the brief lull, Ryukard spoke.
"Sister, it's not too late. Please withdraw the mana. If you stop here, you can be forgiven."
Cecil's face twisted visibly.
Immediately after, a demonic face none had seen before spat out suppressed words.
"......Forgiven? Forgiveness?"
Her red eyes, whites vanished, took in the four men before her.
"Who forgives whom?"
"Sister..."
Cecil's reason was already fading. Ryukard's words scattered past her ears.
Too late for forgiveness. From the moment she allied with the black mage and poisoned Thea, she had no other choice—the unspoken tail end never rose past her throat. Instead, a tearing roar took its place.
"Aeron—!"
True name screamed till her throat burst.
The summon responded.
Roooar!
The helmeted head thrown back roared, spewing dark blue glow from its eyes.
Even as its two hands naturally dropped from the hilt.
Soon, its spread shoulders held different weapons in each hand.
Right hand: a longsword with blade up.
Left: a shortsword with blade down.
The next moment.
Scraaaape—the summon swept the ground with its toes, slowly steadying its stance.
Ryukard and Carlos, facing it, raised their own beloved blades.
"Be careful."
"I know... from fighting it once."
With curt words as finale.
Boom!
The three charged like a storm.
Clang clang clang clang!!
Sparks flew from clashing cold steel.
Jin was certain of victory.
"We've won!"
"......What outta nowhere?"
Kendrick paused mid-join, hesitating.
A solemn voice followed in his ear.
"Dual-wield loses. One who splits the sword dies for sure."
Jin recited the fake proverb, sparking his self-rotation! Zap!
"One hit wasn't enough? Guess we gotta beat sense into her."
As he clenched his fist to finish the berserk summoner.
[Hold still for a moment]
The sudden voice in his ear made Jin screech to a halt mid-leap. Kendrick, following, froze awkwardly and glanced aside.
"Why again!"
"Wait! Shh!"
Jin pressed a finger to his lips, frowning and leaning forward.
The voice continued.
[Something for you to do]
It was the Sword Saint's voice.
He'd sent it riding mana—
In this turbulent air, transmitting so clearly meant masterful mana control.
Like threading a needle's eye with mana-spun thread.
Of course, Jin, uninterested, just marveled: "Cyberpunk telepathy?"
"What alone—!"
"Shh! Wait, wait. Something to do? What is it?"
Eyeing Kendrick to stay quiet, Jin shouted back at the master's feat.
Naturally, his voice wouldn't reach.
So the talk was one-way.
[Head to the cathedral]
"Suddenly?"
[If you're Lokan's disciple, I can trust you]
"......No. Hold on."
[I'll be there soon. Buy me some time]
"Can I bring this guy...? Hello? Hello?"
The Sword Saint's voice cut off. Jin furrowed his brow.
"Man, just says his piece and ghosts."
Kendrick tapped his temple like he had vertigo.
Meanwhile, tentacle roots flew from all directions. Dodging and smashing them, Jin and Kendrick opened their mouths.
"Explain! What's going on?!"
"Sword Saint telepathed! Sent his voice remote! To the cathedral!"
"The Sword Saint?!"
"Yeah!"
With a sharp affirmative, Jin—bound by a tentacle—shot skyward.
He tore the crushing force with greater power, blinking to Kendrick's side.
Kicking away a root aiming for his flank.
Kendrick confirmed with a side-eye, then swung his thunder god claws wide, shredding frontal roots.
"Why the cathedral?!"
"Hell if I know, man!"
Jin answered, thinking.
What to do.
Sudden special mission from the Sword Saint.
No obligation to obey, especially if trust stemmed from the Lokan disciple mix-up—he was basically a foreigner.
But flip it: no reason to refuse.
A family head veteran wouldn't spout nonsense.
Surely a way to end this mess waited there.
Plus, Jin harbored no love for black mages.
He still remembered being kidnapped to the abandoned factory, burning precious 2 million credits.
And not just that—grabbing innocent mercs for white phosphorus extraction, all sorts of horrors.
Wait.
Come to think: both self-rotation and pure flame came from black mage incidents. No wonder the rewards were insane.
Vaguely tracing the 30,000 XP source, Jin bowed his head.
Screee!
A tentacle root grazed overhead.
Straightening, Jin split it with lightning-charged palm, yelling.
"Let's go! Cathedral!"
Good is good.
No deep thought. Pure spinal reflex decision.
Kendrick didn't agree easily.
"What the..."
As one bearing the family name, he'd already guessed the giant tree's identity.
Apostle.
Ancient evils parasitic on the empire since the Age of Light and Roses.
The term for the strongest twelve.
Anything less wouldn't dare show before the Sword Saint.
Meaning the main battlefield was here.
Cathedral out of nowhere? Maybe this colt misheard...
Cerebellum King's brain couldn't spin further.
Suddenly his view floated in air.
Ground shrinking below, blood tree looming larger.
Then he noticed the hand grabbing his collar.
"You bastard—!"
Before venting, view flipped again. Another dozen meters.
"Shut it! Bite your tongue!"
Jin yelled, focusing.
Unauthorized blink chain.
Sensory coordinates daringly wove through crimson falling petals.
Even Kendrick relaxed in the mad tightrope.
Swallowing backtalk to his throat. Crazy bastard—
Thus, reaching arena airspace in a flash.
Suddenly, bodies lost center.
Shockwave from a ground-up slash reached here.
Humanly impossible Sword Saint swordplay spun them wildly. Blink again.
Acrobatically escaping the absolute's domain, they wondered where-now, starting freefall.
Jin widened eyes mid-panic.
This speed buildup spells trouble.
Blink just shifts position.
Doesn't cancel momentum.
So blinking wherever eyes landed—er, whatever—he finally hit ground tumbling.
Kendrick, landing neatly beside, capped it with held-back curses.
"You son of a bitch!!"
But Jin had already kicked off running.
"This fuck..."
Kendrick chased the afterimage self-rotation.
Speed rivaling top among seven families—Zahard. The two, dead serious, reached the cathedral quick.
Screech!
Jin halted, kicking dust.
His sweeping gaze caught long blood trails dirtying the floor.
At the end: a fallen corpse.
An Anarion swordmaster guarding the cathedral.
Something slipped in while eyes were on the arena.
Before thoughts sorted, Jin kicked off, crossing the grand hall.
Twisting paths without hesitation. Just follow bloodstains and bodies like signposts.
Soon.
The innermost annex appeared.
Sanctuary.
Where blessed artifacts were kept—and sure enough, two corpses lay there.
Beyond the open door: an unfamiliar presence.
Sensing the gaze? It silently turned toward them. That instant, illusion of a thousand blades at his nose—Jin instinctively backed off.
Kendrick beside him no exception.
Gulp.
Dry swallows in unison.
In vision's corner, the status window appeared silently.
「Clan Rotation (Gathering Dark Clouds)」
Prevent the Apostle from stealing the sacred relic.
🎁 Reward: Perk XP 30,000, ????
Another Apostle had appeared.