Chapter 67
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: Reverse Course
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I secured the anchor—gear designed to prevent falls—to the rock wall, then clipped my rope onto it. From there, I rappelled straight down.
Creak. Creak.
Because the cliff sloped toward the sea, by the time I reached the end of the rope dangling there, I was a good distance from the face. So I swung my body back and forth like a kid on a swing to close the gap, then used telekinesis to jam a nut into a crack in the rock.
Next, I set a new anchor into the stone, tied off the rope securely, and retrieved the old one.
'This should make it tough for my party to guess which cave I ducked into.'
I looked up. I could see the rocks, but nothing that screamed "cave entrance." If anything, it looked like treacherous terrain no one would bother climbing.
Other players probably wouldn't take this route either. It was still a prime spot for a rest area.
'Let's see. With 60-meter ropes, I'll need to repeat this process about twenty times.'
Tight timeline, all things considered.
Even assuming two minutes per descent, that was forty minutes burned.
And sure enough, time was getting short.
So I switched tactics.
Normally, you'd retrieve the rope, so you'd lower two strands for 30 meters at a time. But if I ditched retrieval, I could drop a full 60 meters in one go.
'Skipping the anchor setup and safety checks alone should shave off a ton of time.'
It sucked not recovering the ropes, but I wasn't sweating the cost. Points could be farmed again, and I had dozens more in my inventory anyway.
'Less work means way faster progress, huh?'
Set anchor. Rappel down.
Were they staring because my antics caught their eye?
"Hey, look over there. Check that guy out."
"What the hell... what is he even doing?"
People turned curious eyes my way.
Some looked at me like I was nuts.
The trial's goal was to climb up, so yeah, descending probably looked insane.
'Current height: 310 meters. At this point, folks up top have that relaxed vibe.'
Factoring in the 100-meter sea-level start line, they'd only climbed 210 meters. But that short haul, staked with their lives, had built up experience points. The atmosphere down below was worlds apart.
They climbed leisurely, lounged on protruding ledges for breaks.
And gawked at me rappelling down like I was some zoo monkey.
"Think he has a party waiting below?"
"...Romantic. I ditched my team and soloed up."
But further down, the mood shifted hard.
[Current: 200 meters]
"Fuck, fuckfuckfuck..."
"......"
"Sob."
People too zoned out to care if I descended or not.
Climbers and ledge-sitters alike barely glanced my way.
...No, they had no bandwidth to spare.
They wore the wide-eyed look of rabbits barely escaping a wolf's jaws.
Hearts pounding visibly in their stares.
"H-Hey, help me out here!"
Sometimes, passing right by, they'd spot me and beg blindly. Sorry, but no help from me.
If I were ascending, maybe. But aiding now meant they'd follow me down... and once down, I'd vanish solo via the envelope. Better for everyone if I passed.
"Sorry."
"Come on, don't be like that! Help us!"
"Take me up with you!"
Endless pleas regardless. Ignoring them earned curses.
"Screw you, selfish prick! Think the world's all about you?"
Begging ascent from someone going down... This brutal stretch had scorched their sanity.
But I'd seen it coming, so I shrugged it off.
'Hm?'
Right then, as I thought that—
I got hit with something I hadn't anticipated.
Shake. Shake.
The rope jerked suddenly. Looking up, a guy-girl couple was venting—mad I hadn't helped them—by hacking at it.
"Bro, cut it. Scum like that needs to drop dead."
"Yeah, fuck, you gotta answer when people ask for help. Where does this anchovy punk get off ignoring us? Next time I see him on the street, he'll bow and avert his eyes."
They swung knives at the rope.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
"......"
Stunned, I gawked upward, then swung like a pendulum to slap against the cliff and grip a ledge.
I went to set a new anchor and rope, but nope—the line snapped and plummeted seaward from above.
"Tch, he survived?"
"Lucky bastard. Ptoo."
Disappointed I lived.
'What shitty personalities. Not like it gains them anything.'
Couldn't just take it—maybe chuck some projectiles? Damn, left my pack at camp.
Chase and kill? Time check said it'd be too tight.
'You got lucky, assholes.'
I let them go and was about to resume when I spotted a nut anchored in the cliff, swaying.
"......"
Looked up: the couple climbing again. I pulled a nut from inventory, gripped it tight.
Clamped the rope in my left hand, braced both feet against the wall.
'Doubt I'll hit, honestly.'
Graze was fine. Just instill fear—that their reckless move could've killed them. They'd freak and never pull that shit again.
Whoosh.
The wired metal chunk flew from my hand into the air.
Thwack!
Oh, hit. Right in the guy's ass dead center. Wait, slightly forward—crotch shot?
"Gaaahhh!"
'Oof, that’s gotta hurt like hell.'
Still hanging on, tough bastard. Let go and it’s game over. Guy clung to the ledge, thighs clenched, quivering; girl panicked.
"B-Bro, what’s wrong?"
"Guh. Guh-guh."
No clue if they’d survive this trial, but that couple? Kids weren’t in their future.
Thought about a second toss, held back. No time for small fry.
'Almost down.'
Soon reached the start point. None of the faces from my earlier swing-by. All newbies.
"What’s this guy doing?"
"Coming down from above...?"
Never dreamed someone’d reverse-cliff. Eyes wide—but they snapped to it not mattering and shouted.
"D-Did you come to help us?"
"Are you hanging ropes from up top for crossing over...?"
Not quite, but I played along.
"Climb up this."
"Thank you! Truly, thank you!"
"You’re amazing!"
They clustered, grabbed the rope, toed the wall upward. I scanned around.
'No fresh inflows anymore, huh.'
Made sense. After the first trial, everyone knew evenings were deadly.
They’d swarm again come morning.
Pulled anchors from inventory, bolted them firm across the wall. Last set.
'Time elapsed... forty minutes now?'
Nearly 500 meters descended in forty. Pure rappelling minimized time; ascent would drag way longer.
I perched on a jutting rock ledge, gazing at the vista below.
Splash!
Rough waves twenty meters down battered the cliff. And amid them, teeming motion.
Purakua.
Monster fish. Man-eaters. Common sights roaming trial zones.
Blood-red hue made their swirls look like waves of gore.
"Felt like jumping in would be suicide."
Why bring it up?
'Alright, time’s up?'
Deep breath, stretched out, donned goggles from my pocket—grabbed separate from the pack.
'Here goes.'
Grabbed rope, eased toward the surface.
Splash! Crashing waves shattered against the cliff, spraying my clothes and skin.
I dangled above water till past fifty minutes, then tapped Ise-ra’s linked power via [Binding].
[Stealth] activated.
A bizarre mana enveloped my body.
Mythic-grade ability.
Unlike other stealth skills with penalties, this erased your presence entirely—no drawbacks.
Nearly flawless; fooled hordes of monsters even in the Fire Dragon's lair.
'Will it work on underwater prowlers like purakua?'
Tense, I submerged.
'If not, just climb the rope.'
Even a lethal hit? [Ring of Archdemon Arken] engraving granted [Desperate Revival]. Fine.
[Desperate Revival: Once per day, nullify a fatal blow.]
One free life.
That enabled this reckless dive. Otherwise? No way I'd volunteer for fish food.
Result...
'No clue. They don't sense me.'
Fish zipped past, ignoring me point-blank.
Confirmed, I released the rope and plunged deep. Time trial now.
'Where's the bottom?'
Depth was serious. Waves ferocious. Currents battered, defying control.
Trials sometimes forced underwater ops—shitty ones. Back from Earth, I could barely swim, let alone dive. Ten years made me pro.
Else? Fish chow long ago.
'Grip rocks down, swim when currents ease.'
Stabilized amid sway, clutched wall, descended fast. When flow calmed, high Strength propelled me deeper.
'Found it.'
Hit bottom. Fifty meters down: sand piled with dark shit.
Fish crap, bone dust. Purakua crunched human bones to powder. Remnants.
Rumble-rumble-rumble!
Each wave churned vision into bone clouds. Amid gaps? My quarry, piled high.
'Mountains of 'em.'
Seabed littered with stat fragments. Discarded weapons beside them. Ownerless loot.