Chapter 142
Chapter 142
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 142
Chapter Title: Cursed Armory
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After thoroughly combing through the Transcendence Cult's main hall, Leyzon was convinced it had been completely cleared.
The traces of the evil transcendent beings that had formed the core of the Transcendence Cult's main hall were vanishing.
In the process, he discovered several documents.
From those documents, he learned the following.
The Transcendence Cult had been steadily kidnapping heterogenous races.
Moreover, one of the races used to summon an apostle posed a particular problem.
'Angelkin.'
Leyzon frowned as he scanned the documents.
The angelkin were the same race as the Judgment Lord.
As far as he knew, there had only been one Judgment Lord.
Yet here it was, documented: angelkin.
'Did a new angelkin emerge within the last century?'
The Transcendence Cult had somehow managed to capture one.
And using that angelkin as a base, they had summoned an apostle.
The first core material for the Apostle of Ruin.
It had been the angelkin.
"So that's why Brother came here to stop them."
Hanok realized why the Shadow Warlord had come to the Transcendence Cult.
The Shadow Warlord had been tirelessly protecting the heterogenous races all this time.
There was no way he would let the Transcendence Cult sacrifice them unchecked.
"Leyzon, sir, there's traces of a large group escaping via magic over here."
In the meantime, Iden discovered the prison where the heterogenous races had been held.
Just as Iden said, there were clear signs of an escape spell.
It seemed another ally of the Shadow Warlord had been involved.
Before it lay the unmistakable scars of an intense battle.
"Sword-Tooth Clan claw marks."
Hanok traced the wall with a troubled expression.
The Shadow Warlord had held out desperately here until the captured heterogenous races could escape.
In the end, his strength gave out, and his body was taken by Gullian.
"That's just like him."
Leyzon reached out and patted Hanok's head.
"When we get the Shadow Warlord back, tell him he did well. That should be enough."
"Y-Yeah... you're right."
Hanok swallowed a lump in his throat, his face a mix of emotion.
Leyzon's words carried the firm promise that he would definitely bring the Shadow Warlord back.
Hanok believed him.
"Iden, can you track them?"
"Yeah, it shouldn't be too hard."
"Good. Keep at it."
Having delegated the tracking, Leyzon took a moment to catch his breath.
After a full day of grueling work, his back was killing him.
Leyzon examined the black gem recovered from the Apostle of Ruin.
Its blackness was far deeper than those from other apostles.
Jet-black, as if it rejected even the faintest light.
'It looks like the darkest shade in the world.'
This would come in handy somewhere down the line.
Leyzon carefully stowed it in his bag.
At least he could breathe easier now.
The Transcendence Cult had been safely dealt with.
Leyzon stroked Syria, nestled in his arms, as a brief rest.
"Mmm, right there, feels good."
Syria was still in her tiny bat form, recovering from the aftereffects of undead fusion.
'That takes care of one threat that could have toppled the Empire.'
Thinking back to the Apostle of Ruin still sent shivers down his spine.
The power that had shredded even Syria's shadows.
Without undead fusion, it would have been an unwinnable foe.
'And that one was incomplete.'
It had even possessed intelligence.
If given more time, it would have fully matured into something unstoppable.
Before he knew it, the clear blue sky had darkened into evening.
He had spent the entire day battling inside the Transcendence Cult.
His stomach was growling fiercely.
'I planned to hit the dungeon below the main hall after clearing this place.'
But that was impossible now.
Syria needed rest in her current state.
'Gotta gear up and come back later.'
Besides, there was the matter of the Shadow Warlord.
Leyzon had a plan in mind for resolving that.
Then, a glint of sword light caught his eye.
Under the night sky, he quietly scanned the surroundings.
On guard against any lingering Transcendence Cult remnants.
'Thorough guy.'
"Sword Saint, you think you could get your revenge right now? What do you say?"
The Sword Saint's eyes turned toward him.
He had already spotted the playful smirk on Leyzon's face.
"Indeed, now would be possible."
But there was no eagerness for battle in the Sword Saint's voice.
"You might regret passing on today later."
The Sword Saint sheathed the Faded Sword of Divinity at his waist.
If Leyzon was lying, he would miss his chance at vengeance right before his eyes.
Yet the Sword Saint chose to trust him.
His eyes gleamed with clear resolve.
"I want to uncover the truth as well."
Leyzon's lips curved upward.
Bringing the Sword Saint along had been the right call.
The chain of misunderstandings had finally broken.
"Besides, I don't see why you'd lie about facing a monster like that."
The Apostle of Ruin was a massive threat to the world.
Even the Sword Saint might hesitate, but Leyzon had no reason to fight it.
Yet he had thrown everything into defeating it.
"If you were the villain I imagined, you'd have just sat back and watched."
The Apostle of Ruin would have endangered the Empire—and ordinary citizens.
Leyzon had stopped that threat.
The Sword Saint couldn't hold his head high if he didn't trust someone like that.
Leyzon felt the Sword Saint's unwavering trust.
This level of faith was more than enough.
[Leyzon, sir.]
Then, Iden's voice rang in Leyzon's ear.
It was Iden, whom he had sent to track the trail.
Leyzon focused, and Iden continued.
[This seems to be the treasure vault you mentioned.]
Leyzon's eyes flashed at the same moment.
"Tell me the location."
[Got it.]
The instant Iden relayed the position, Leyzon strode forward.
The Sword Saint and Hanok followed, puzzled but compliant.
Soon, a massive door loomed before Leyzon.
It appeared to lead underground.
A thicker smile spread across Leyzon's face.
In truth, gear farming in the Transcendence Cult's main hall was tough.
'Most of it is infused with the evil transcendent power.'
Thus, most equipment was cursed junk unfit for use.
But who was Leyzon?
"Heh, hehehe, I've been waiting for this day."
If it were just that, he wouldn't have mentioned gear farming from the start.
He had acquired a skill specifically for this moment.
Well, it was by chance, but he put it to good use when the time came.
"Sword Saint, just to confirm—you're not gonna complain if I crack this open, right?"
"No intention of it. Since this place has become a dungeon, the ownership goes to you, the clearer."
True to a Pioneer Guild administrator.
Flexible where it counted.
"Heh, remember you said the ownership's mine."
Leyzon placed his hand on the door as he spoke.
Then shoved it open with all his might.
The door didn't budge.
It was beyond Leyzon's strength.
Leyzon's face fell.
Necromancers had it rough.
"Hanok."
"Yes, sir."
Hanok approached at the call and tried to open the door.
"Nngh!"
But it still wouldn't open.
Hanok's tail stiffened as he grunted in effort, then slumped in defeat.
"L-Leyzon, sir, this thing's warped from the inside, like from an explosion. We might have to smash it."
Even Hanok's power was no use.
Leyzon barely salvaged his male pride.
It wasn't a lack of strength; the door was defective.
Leyzon turned to the Sword Saint.
Iden was away tracking the heterogenous races.
Syria was weakened post-undead fusion.
Leyzon didn't want to expend more mana here.
"Ahem, mind lending me your sword for a sec?"
The Sword Saint gave him an incredulous look.
"...All that smug confidence from earlier is gone."
"Forget you saw that."
The Sword Saint sighed once.
"Step back."
He stood before the door, gripping his sword.
In an instant, he swung toward the door.
It cleaved cleanly, crashing inward with a thud.
His swordsmanship was impeccable.
"Thanks. I'll toss you one of the gear drops!"
"No need."
Aristocrats were such a pain.
He wouldn't give it even if asked later.
Leyzon bounded down the stairs with springy steps.
How could he not be excited on the way to farm gear?
He descended at a rapid pace.
"L-Leyzon, sir, is it okay to charge ahead alone?!"
Hanok yelped and hurried after him.
Then, blue flames flickered along the underground space.
"It's fine. Nothing to worry about here."
And rightly so—this was the entrance to the Hell Key Dungeon.
Dungeon entrances came with perfect restoration properties.
Nothing changed no matter what you did.
But Leyzon had no intention of entering the dungeon.
Instead, he stopped at a certain point.
"Hanok, stay there."
Leyzon went up and down the stairs several times.
The moment even the trailing Sword Saint gave him a bizarre look—
Clunk—
The three steps Leyzon had stepped on flipped open inward.
Revealing another staircase just big enough for a person.
"...How do you even know about this?"
The Sword Saint looked utterly baffled.
Hanok was unfazed; he had expected it.
Leyzon pulled stunts like this all the time.
"You pick it up living like I do."
Leyzon didn't bother explaining; his jaw hurt just thinking about it.
Thanks to his Abyssal status, anything he did gained instant justification anyway.
'A world that bends over backward to rationalize my chaos. The best.'
Abyss rules.
Say it with me: Abyss rules.
Even being the Abyss itself felt positive now.
Leyzon descended the new stairs briskly.
Moments later, a small, weathered door appeared—unlike the outside.
Leyzon flung it open without hesitation.
A musty scent of dust wafted out.
"Cough."
Hanok, following behind, coughed.
His sensitive nose was to blame.
Leyzon, masked, strode in unfazed by the dust.
Then, the skulls hanging from the ceiling detected them and lit up with yellow glows.
As light filled the room, revealing the surroundings clearly—
"Whoa."
Hanok let out an involuntary gasp.
And small wonder: the entire room was packed with equipment.
Drip—
At the room's center stood a massive altar.
Above it hung an inverted statue of a goddess, descending from the ceiling.
The statue's fingertips pointed toward the altar top.
Drip—
Blood trickled from the fingertips onto the altar.
The already blood-filled altar overflowed.
The blood then flowed along grooves carved into the altar toward the floor.
Where it reached: several pieces of equipment.
Each fitted perfectly into storage cases, absorbing the blood as it arrived.
"This is..."
The Sword Saint's eyes narrowed.
As a holy swordsman, he instantly recognized the nature of this place.
"A cursed equipment forge."
Leyzon confirmed the Sword Saint's guess.
"They flood the market with cursed gear. Designed to incite slaughter in its wielders."
Buyers of cursed equipment end up butchering even their own families.
Weapons bought to protect loved ones turn against them instead.
That was the truth behind the cursed weapons circulating in the markets.
Leyzon approached a storage case.
Made of black wood.
Inside: filled with what looked like black sludge.
Leyzon knew exactly what it was.
'Apostle corpse.'
The equipment was buried within the apostle's remains.
An apostle's corpse post-death had high curse conductivity.
Thus, it served faithfully as a conduit.
'Even as a corpse, it's useful. What a horrific monster.'
Even Leyzon, handler of undead, found apostles unsettling.
"So, what's your plan for this?"
The Sword Saint barely restrained his urge to smash it all.
To him, every piece here was trash.
"Purify it, of course."
"...Are you from a holy order or something?"
Purifying cursed gear was the holy orders' domain.
He doubted Leyzon could pull it off.
Leyzon looked nothing like holy order material.
Leyzon grinned wickedly.
"Nah, nothing like that. Just..."
He plunged his hand into the apostle's corpse.
"Wait."
Before the Sword Saint could stop him, Leyzon rummaged through the muck and pulled out a piece of gear.
Whoosh!
In that instant, thick killing intent surged from the equipment.
A ferocious malice ready to devour Leyzon in a heartbeat.
Even Hanok and the Sword Saint recoiled from its intensity.
Leyzon grinned, baring his teeth at it.
"Necromancer."