Chapter 59
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Usurper (3)
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The night on the plateau had deepened.
Regardless of the cursed land below, the night sky twinkled with clusters of stars.
An excited voice echoed across the wasteland shrouded in eerie mist.
"Everyone, push on! We're almost there!"
It was Urdin, expedition leader of the Retunir Exploration Team.
Having cleared the rocky mountains, he led his team across the plateau.
The distance to the cursed king's tent had narrowed to a realistic level.
No more than five kilometers at most.
With most of the cavalry drawn toward Bran, they had definitely saved time.
"U, uwooo...!"
"Huff... huff... damn it."
But the team's morale was far from high.
Unlike the early stages when cheers erupted every moment, most had lost their fighting spirit.
The reason was simple.
The nightmare of Kargai Plateau wasn't limited to the cavalry.
The closer they got to the tent, the thicker the curse embedded in the ground became.
Whoosh!
Evil spirits burst from the wasteland and pounced on the stragglers at the rear.
"Kaaaack!"
"Guh... grrrk...! N-no!"
Screams rang out.
The Relic Hammer's blessing, centered on the user, offered no protection to those outside its light.
The laggards were fully exposed to the spirits and curse, paying a harsh price.
The eyes of explorers possessed by evil spirits began to glow red.
"Hee hee, hee hee hee!"
"Why... did you... come here..."
Soon, they drew their weapons and started slaughtering each other.
Squish! Squish! Squish!
Fountains of blood soaked the parched earth.
"Don't look back, you idiots! Keep up!"
"Huff... if we stop, we're dead too!"
Despite the horrific tragedy, no one helped their comrades.
Stopping meant sharing their fate.
To survive, they had no choice but to follow Urdin.
Kaboom!
A sudden explosion swallowed two explorers.
It was a black blast.
As the darkness settled, explorers lay dead with daggers plunged into their own throats.
Those who turned saw it and unleashed bone-chilling screams.
"Clu, clu, cluster!"
Mists shaped like humans fired curses at them.
The evil spirit clusters that Bran's group had faced as well.
Though much smaller than the ones that had blocked them, the exploration team had no strength left to fight even these.
"Ignore them! Ignore everything and just push forward!"
"Haaaack! Spare me!"
The exploration team simply ran.
That was the only way to survive.
One explorer, unable to endure, mustered his last strength to catch up to the lead group.
"Captain! We need to retreat now!"
And he shouted.
No matter how important the relic, it wasn't worth more than their lives.
The team that had set out from the rocky mountains with 32 members was down to 15.
At this rate, total annihilation was obvious.
"No. We go to the end."
"Captain!"
But Urdin's response was cold.
The explorer gasped in shock at Urdin accelerating even more.
"Th-this is insane! We misjudged how bad the curse is. Even if we make it into the tent, getting out is the problem. How do you plan to break through those things..."
"Shut up."
That was when it happened.
"Ack?!"
The woman running beside Urdin tripped the protesting explorer.
Thud!
The fallen explorer vanished behind in an instant.
His comrades trampled him.
The moment he slipped outside the red glow's range, he let out a wail.
"N-nooo-!"
Evil spirits swarmed the explorer sprawled on the ground.
His death scream was soon drowned in ghostly wails.
The woman said,
"Keep going, Captain. Guys like that were dead anyway."
"Mm."
Urdin nodded.
He agreed with her.
Sneering voices spread from those around.
"Heh, thinking he'd survive with that kind of grit."
"He bought off at least ten spirits, so he paid his worth."
They were the lead group members.
Including Urdin, there were seven in total.
All experts at Body Hardening Technique rank 3 or higher, the core of this infiltration op.
"Focus only on breaching the tent. We have the Return Stones."
Urdin patted the bulge in his coat pocket.
Inside was a relic 'Return Stone' that could teleport up to seven pre-designated people to a set location.
Along with the hammer, it was the reason the Retunir team kept pushing.
The plan was to swiftly grab the king's treasure and activate the Return Stone.
"Yessir! We're already on it!"
"Keh heh. Just imagining the king dumbfounded after we steal his treasure makes me laugh."
Cheerful replies came back.
The ordinary explorers struggling to keep up were mere bait.
That had been the infiltration team's strategy from the start.
The distance to the tent had narrowed to within 2km.
Crack!
Suddenly, mounted warriors burst from the tent's entrance.
Spreading from column to line, there were exactly seven warriors.
Smiles crept onto the lead explorers' lips.
"Ah, the Royal Guard arrives."
It matched the scout reports perfectly.
The seven warriors wielded different weapons each.
Spears, curved swords, daggers... that sort of thing.
They were the cursed king's Royal Guard.
Three horses and four hounds.
Known as the Three Beasts and Four Hounds, these elites waited in the tent normally, deploying only when intruders threatened the king.
Urdin asked,
"Everyone. Think you can each take one?"
"You kidding?"
"Haha, they couldn't even breach Bracada's barrier!"
The explorers laughed heartily.
Not wrong, so Urdin just smirked.
Perfect numbers matched too.
Centering on Urdin, the explorers fanned out wide.
"Love this kinda thing. Always wanted to try it."
"Heh, feels like a joust."
"You guys in the back! Watch close!"
The matchup was set.
Urdin and the six explorers drew their weapons.
Body Hardening and their specialties enhanced bodies and arms.
Flames rose from one's sword, frost gathered at another's spear tip.
The distance closed in a flash.
The instant the Royal Guard's forms overlapped theirs.
Slash!
The six elites' heads soared into the air.
"What."
Urdin's eyes widened.
The Royal Guard bodies were unscathed.
The explorers' heads retained their pre-clash confident expressions.
Splurt!
Headless corpses toppled in unison.
"Impossible...!"
The 7v7 duel had only one winner: Urdin.
One Guard, pushed back in strength, fell from his mount.
"Neigh!"
But that was no victory.
The Guard didn't stop after taking the six lives.
The hammer's blessing failed to halt their charge and flickered out.
One trailing explorer gasped.
"Huh?"
The horse's shadow loomed over his head.
Before he could react, the ghost horse's hoof smashed his face.
Kaboom!
The six Guards crashed into the exploration team.
"No!"
A scream-like sound escaped Urdin's lips for the first time.
"Haaaack! Mercy!"
"Gurk!"
"C-Captain... kaaack!"
It was a one-sided massacre.
Half died in the clash alone; within three breaths, the rest's heads parted from bodies.
Silence fell soon after.
The sole survivor, Urdin gripped his hammer and roared.
"You bastards!"
He couldn't shake the charging riders.
He fought valiantly, parrying attacks, but there were too many foes.
Slash!
A slash from behind severed the wrist holding the hammer.
"Kahk!"
Then a horse hoof struck, sending Urdin sprawling forward.
He reached for the hammer with his other hand, but the Guards gave no opening.
Crack!
A spear pierced his back.
As his life flashed before his eyes, pinned immobile.
"Hee hee hee neigh!"
Suddenly, the Guards halted.
Ghost horses reared, whinnying.
As if sensing an intolerable threat.
All six riders' gazes turned one way.
A cracked voice emerged from under the spear-wielder's helmet.
"Sto... p..."
He could speak.
The six Guards wheeled as one.
What the hell?
Urdin, barely alive, looked where they charged.
"What."
He froze.
In the distance, a golden-glowing group surged toward the tent.
"Keeek!"
"Kyaaak! Kyaaaak!"
Like meteors streaking horizontally.
Evil spirits parted left and right, clearing a path.
Like a crowd shoving aside with curses.
Kaboom!
Gale winds whipped where the group passed.
"Those are...!"
Urdin's eyes widened.
The faces in the group looked familiar.
A boy led, flanked by Dragonblood and wolf.
On the wolf rode a dwarf, a golden-haired girl, and a freak in a deer mask.
"Halt...!"
"Blasphemous... ones...!"
The Guards, barely timing it, blocked them head-on.
Same setup as before. Neither side intending to stop.
Glows built on the boy and Dragonblood's weapons.
The Guards at full speed collided.
Boom!!!
A starfall roar, and the six Guards exploded.
"...!!!"
A literal explosion.
Shredded flesh and ghost horses obliterated on glow impact.
Golden afterimages lingered where boy and Dragonblood slashed.
Bran bellowed through the scattering souls of the Guards.
"Keep going!"
Raiding the cursed king's tent was originally an incredibly tedious quest.
Even a properly leveled character would need a full month grinding nonstop.
High spec requirements and tricky mechanics made it no easy task, even for Bran, who faithfully ran the rice-shit-return route routine.
'So I had to make it easy.'
Thus, Bran deliberately built overwhelming specs.
Enough to ignore every masochistic gimmick.
He worked Kael and Ilrak hard, and trained himself twice as brutally.
All the way from Valceros.
Anticipating a fight with these damned ghosts from the start!
And luckily, he recruited Arjan first.
You have entered the range of Arjan's skill [Gale Step].
The White Wolf's wind pushes at your back. Movement speed greatly increases!
The biggest boon was securing the cheat buff skill 'Gale Step'.
Originally the mother wolf Baihir's ability, it was the best-performing skill Arjan had devoured.
Good enough to carry to the ending.
'Got really lucky.'
Ignoring the third-most annoying element, the cavalry, was entirely thanks to recruiting Arjan first.
Elixirs boosting speed plus Gale Step was godlike, invincible!
So no need to team up with morons like the Retunir Exploration Team. Double win.
Kael glanced back with an admiring mutter.
"Th-they're out of sight now..."
The thousands-strong cavalry were still wandering near the rocky mountains, chasing nonexistent foes.
They hadn't even detected Bran’s group leaping from the mountains.
Probably thought they were birds or something.
Ilrak grumbled.
"Expected more from the Royal Guard, but they were too easy?"
"Never thought maybe you're just that strong?"
Bran chuckled.
The second-most annoying element, the Royal Guard, was crushed by overwhelming force.
Precisely, overwhelming divine power and strength combo.
Sure enough, the Guards appeared and blocked their path.
But the result?
Amazing feat! You have defeated the Cursed King's Royal Guard!
Tenacity of the Weed activates. Growth speed of Strength, Stamina, and Agility for all members slightly increases!
Exploded on contact into turmeric powder.
The enhanced Morning's Blessing dwarfed Urdin's hammer blessing.
The sensation of bisecting ghost horse and warrior soul at once still tingled in his hands.
'But why only six?'
Should've been seven; where was the last one? A mystery.
Not that it mattered much.
"...Feels like a dream."
Arjan muttered.
She stared blankly ahead, dumbfounded.
No wonder.
The obstacle she'd battered for over a decade was shattering in mere minutes.
But the most annoying element remained.
"W-we're here!"
Benden shouted.
The cursed king's tent loomed right before them.
They'd arrived in a flash. Up close, it was massive.
Like combining six or seven World Cup stadiums.
"Straight on and we'll crash! Need to skirt to the entrance!"
Benden continued.
His urgent tone had reason.
The tent, forged by dark sorcery, resisted all physical attacks and magic with extreme defense.
Only the front entrance allowed entry.
Arjan nodded in agreement.
"Yeah. Can't go anywhere else. Head for the entrance."
"Ooh, wonder what's inside! Excited, Kael?"
"I-I'm not sure..."
Benden thrilled, Kael shuddered.
Their excitement and dread were both right.
Entering via entrance dropped characters into the sorcerer's labyrinth.
A maze packed with traps and monsters.
Certifying a 4-hour clear on user forums got comments like [Are you Korea's Theseus?], testament to its hellish tedium.
However.
"No. We go straight."
"What?"
Bran had no intention of using the entrance.
Sorcerer's escape-room cafe? Done that to death.
He led from the front for a reason.
Their path was charted to breach elsewhere.
Judging by the decorative positions on the outer wall. Certain.
Distance to tent: twenty steps.
Ilrak gaped.
"You madman! What're you planning?!"
"Gonna rip straight through. Gather all power, smash the tent."
He hadn't told comrades beforehand; too lazy to convince.
To Benden and Arjan, it was like quail egg on boulder.
"Br-Bran... I trust you, but this is really bad. You'll get hurt bad!"
"Reckless. Stop!"
But Bran was confident.
These specs could do it.
Five steps left.
Seeing Bran wouldn't stop, Ilrak grit her teeth.
"Ugh, I'm doomed!"
Fwoosh!
Heat surged from her axe blade.
Speed unchanged.
She unleashed a full-power slash at the flapping tent.
Kaboom!
A thunderous boom like striking stone, not leather.
"Krahk! My hand!"
"What...!"
Ilrak winced.
Arjan gaped at the long scorch mark left on the tent.
It had damaged it for sure.
Now Bran's turn.
Gathering all power likewise, Bran swung atop Ilrak's mark.
Morning's Blessing, pure mana from Primordial Flow, Numerite sword at peak weight.
The Heavy Strike combining all slashed down.
Riiip!!!
The tent tore long, curse exploding outward.
First intruders into the tent became curse targets indeed.
Leaping into black flames, but no matter.
Strong mental fortitude overcomes the curse!
Ignores all negative effects including physical debuffs!
This was why he'd steadily spec'd up.
Whoosh!
Curse flames died, revealing a vast round space.
The emptiest spot in the tent, connected to Bran's breach.
At center sat a throne of skulls, solitary.
"Wait. This can't be..."
Arjan, following into the tent, froze.
It matched her father's descriptions.
A man resembling her sat on the bone throne.
Large black pupils.
Cascading grayish-white hair.
His empty eyes held no emotion.
Arjan's time stopped.
Frozen speechless, she slowly spoke.
"Rahir."
The sorcerer was nowhere yet.
The king flinched at Arjan's voice.
"You...?!"
Only now noticing the intruders.
Empty eyes flickered with rage's spark.
"How did you enter here?"
"Wait. I..."
Arjan tried to speak but was ignored.
Rumble!
King extended hand; ghost warriors popped from room corners.
As he drew weapon for battle stance.
"Move."
"Huh...!"
Bran shoved Arjan aside, lunging with longsword.
No intent to give openings. Hard-earned breach wasted.
The blade dug into king's neck, exiting opposite.
Slash!
Throne's upper half sheared; king's head soared.