Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Transcendent of Time (3)
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-Thud!
"F-Furious..."
The last remaining woman lost consciousness and collapsed.
I had dashed at the bastard and knocked out each of the women one by one with strikes to the back of their necks.
I had no choice but to knock them out. The moment I tried to lay a hand on Time's Transcendent Diavela, they flew into a rage like madwomen.
Even though they shouldn't have been able to move, one even grabbed my ankle. Consider this insurance against a surprise attack from behind.
>
Honestly, at this point, it bordered on madness.
What the hell was this guy that these women clung to him so desperately? And they weren't amateurs—they were highly skilled.
Of course, you needed a certain level of power to even encounter the Great Sages, but still, this was a bit much.
>
The women collapsed here were at least level 150 to 200.
And demons or celestials went without saying. Just what made this guy so great... Ah, right. He's a god.
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'Watching these idiots sometimes makes me feel dumber. My head hurts.'
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Come to think of it, this guy was a Transcendent.
In this world, they were revered as gods.
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And he was the most infamous one for his obsession with women. Like some myth where he'd knock up any woman he fancied, regardless of race or marital status.
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There was even a tale of him jumping Cresia, another Transcendent, while she slept. How bad must he have been?
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"Hey, quit playing dead. I know you haven't lost consciousness. And I know you healed that shrine maiden enough just now for her to speak."
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Eventually, he'd been exiled to an empty space for hundreds of years. I'd read that in this world's myths, not Novel Online's lore, so who knows if it's accurate.
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But seeing him in the flesh? It felt 100% real.
Cresia might even be a saint for that. Getting jumped by this creep while asleep, and only banishing him for a few centuries?
If it were me, I'd have just... Well, some things are better left unsaid.
>
"Oh, taking down all my honeys like that. And you're not just a magic master—you've mastered hand-to-hand combat too?"
"Honeys...? You're insane. Cut the crap. What did you do to these women? Brainwash them?"
"Brainwash? I don't do nasty stuff like that. They all love me sincerely. I never force myself on a woman who hates me."
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They did seem to love him sincerely.
But wasn't it a bit too sincere?
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It looked like their heads were filled with nothing but screwing this guy. And it wasn't brainwashing magic either—that much was clear.
Confirming via Insight Passive that his words were true only made it worse.
If it wasn't brainwashing, why were they so horny for him? Did he drug them?
I was curious, but not enough to try it myself.
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"If you'd just give permission, I could make you fall for my charms too. What do you say? Want to stay here with me? In this place, you could be happy no matter if that guy revives... er, no matter what happens in the outside world."
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Sure enough, as he said, the Underworld was separate from the world created by Transcendent Cresia, untouched by outside influences.
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This place was absolutely beyond even Delatros's reach.
No—precisely because he was who he was, he couldn't reach it.
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He was the Transcendent of Life, living life itself.
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Thus, he couldn't enter this realm of dead souls without special means like mine.
If I took his offer, I could live here peacefully, even if the outside world ended.
The Underworld was akin to the Spirit Realm.
Not some hellish afterlife, but a gathering place for souls without bodies.
This Transcendent and his women somehow had bodies, but typically, souls floated like spirits.
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"Shut your bullshit. I'd rather die than be your plaything."
"Aw, that's a shame. You're totally my type."
>
To be honest, living comfortably here was a tempting offer.
Unlike Twilight Forest, it wasn't just woods—dead folks formed villages, so it wouldn't be boring.
Of course, I had zero intention of getting a body here for that.
Spend my days screwing around with him? Better to be sold as a slave in the black market.
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"You look like Cresia. Your speech, personality—even the reactions you'd make in bed must be the sa—"
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-Thwack!
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"Gak!"
"Know your place. I'm not here to chat bullshit with you."
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I'd grown sick of his nonsense and stomped on his face.
With no shoes, my bare foot made it disgustingly tactile...
What to call this feeling? It was kinda satisfying—
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-Slurp!
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"Hng?!"
"Whoa...! That reaction! Perfect! Just like Cresia! She acts all high and mighty, but her responses are so girlish and cute—my erection won't go down..."
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In an instant, I yanked my foot back.
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This bastard—he didn't even wince when I stomped his face. He licked my foot.
I'd aimed to knock out a few teeth, but my kick must've been weaker than usual.
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"Ugh..."
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Looking down, his saliva coated the sole.
Disgusting. Fucking gross.
I wiped it off on whatever was nearby.
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This place was insane.
How were all these so-called gods from myths such perverts? Not a normal one in the bunch.
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Well, reality reflected that. Excluding saints like Jesus or Buddha, most myth gods were like this.
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Humans imagine wilder than wild.
Even if myths stem from human imagination—a paradox.
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Anyway, it hit me how to deal with creeps like this.
Myths had ways to handle lustful gods.
And I had just the thing in my Subspace.
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"...Is that so? Then I'll personally help you deflate."
"Y-You mean... you're giving it up?! A round?! Wait, I like to take the lead... Can you wait till I'm recovered?"
"No need. I'll accommodate you."
First, I ditched this rag of a heavenly garment.
It served no purpose, and knowing he'd dressed me in it made my skin crawl.
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"W-Wooohoo!!!"
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-Rip!
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Diavela suddenly cheered.
Wearing it or not made no difference—why the fuss?
Whatever, ignore him...
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Anyway, I opened my Subspace and pulled out some clothes.
I didn't know if they'd persist outside the Underworld, so these were cheap shop buys—disposable if needed.
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"Clothed play...! Nice and fresh! My honeys always strip, so I've never tried it!"
"Good for you. It'll be your last 'play' with me."
"R-Really? Non-stop?! Till death?! I'm already dead, so till I die again...? Huh?"
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And I drew this too.
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-Shing.
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Come to think of it, myths called him a time god? Or was that a different one with the same name?
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Didn't matter.
He'd suffer the same fate as that myth god anyway.
"H-Hey, why draw a sickle? Isn't that dangerous? I don't like pain."
"Relax. It's a tool for my play. Got it accidentally when raiding the black market—turns out it's useful."
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This world had these too?
It came in a box from the black market raid. I'd pondered its use and shelved it.
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Who knew it'd come in handy here.
It's one of the mythic ways to handle ancient gods.
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Blade's nice and sharp too.
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"You know? Those twin elves you raised—they've grown enough to peer into other worlds using your powers."
"...Twins? Them? They never told me? Wow, I'd love to love them up if they were here. Grown so well."
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I chatted idly while inspecting it.
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-Swish! Whoosh!
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Grip here, swing like so. Should work.
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"Isn't that too risky? Be careful—it's old and might break."
"Doesn't matter. Using it now."
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It's just a farm tool made of iron—will it even cut?
Transcendents are tough, though. After what I'd done to him before, his body's durable. Won't bounce off, right?
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Hmm, trial and error...
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"Stand up."
"Sorry, legs broken. Can't."
"Then I'll make you. Easy enough."
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-Crackle!
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"Oof?!"
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I used Graviton to lift him upright.
Even with broken legs, lightening gravity and floating him was simple.
Height like... this is good.
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"That pose works. Hold it."
"Wait, shouldn't we drop trou first?"
"Nah. I'm fine clothed."
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-Step, step.
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I approached with a grin.
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"Ooh, nice face?"
"...Despite your future-sight, you don't use it much, huh? Wasted potential."
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A little mischief here.
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Time's Transcendent—he created time, so he can see past and future.
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He should foresee what's coming.
Yet here he was, drooling. Maybe not always on, only when he wants.
"Spoilers ruin the fun, especially highlights like now."
"Fair. But sometimes knowing the future amps the thrill—depending on the genre. Like... horror?"
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As expected, nothing special.
Guys with foresight powers always say the same.
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What a waste—not exploiting it fully.
Nah, personal taste. Not my business.
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"So, before we start, check the future. Go on."
"If you insist..."
They misunderstand: foresight kills fun.
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In horror, knowing what's next doesn't spoil—it heightens terror.
At least in that genre.
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And this is for the victim, not observer.
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"Hmm, let's see."
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"...?!"
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If it's an unchangeable future—one that will definitely happen—the victim's dread is indescribable.
Like dying of heart attack in 30 seconds or a car crash.
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"S-Stop! That's not right?! How can you be so cruel...! No, even worse!"
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His face drained to blue.
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He must've seen what I'd do next.
Look at him—pale turning to terrified trembling.
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First time I liked his face.
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Perfect punishment for scum like him.
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"Know this too?"
"W-What...?"
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Tease enough.
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Time for the main event.
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"No stopping for whiners. You pervert orc."
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I stood before him, sickle ready.
Myth-famous sickle—ancient tool. First use in myths matches what I'd do.
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Practiced enough. Should slice clean.
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"U-Uwaaaah! Nooo! Mercy! Not that!"
"Denied."
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-Swing!
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I smiled and swung.
He wore pants—no desire to strip him. Through the fabric it was.
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-Thud, crunch!
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"Hm?"
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But my ears caught not a slicing 'shwick'—a punching 'thud', then a breaking 'crunch'?
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The screaming Transcendent went suddenly silent.
I'd expected ear-piercing agony...
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Curious, I looked up.
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What I saw was...
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"Ah."
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Hard to describe.
Did I swing too hard? The sickle snapped.
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Or too old.
Handle was iffy.
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Problem: the flying blunt end smashed his 'parts' hard.
Even I felt bad. Slicing vs. blunt trauma—different pains.
Probably why he stopped screaming.
They say massive shock silences you.
Seeing it made my lower gut twinge—phantom pain?
>
Nah, imagination.
No reason for me to hurt.
...He vanished in a flash anyway.