Chapter 407
Chapter 407
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 407
Chapter Title: Racial War (46)
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That day, the memory of the 12th floor of the 'Tower of God' was etched vividly in Urkan's mind, as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.
A promising prodigy burdened with the future of the Dusk Tribe.
They were merely young warriors who had just come of age.
Yet they were the tribe's cherished talents.
Nothing in the world seemed frightening.
At the time, Urkan and the young warriors had received orders from the elders to investigate the 'Tower of God'.
Naturally, they ascended the tower with resolute determination.
They firmly believed that they, blessed by the shadows, were the ones qualified to uncover the tower's secrets.
Then, on the 12th floor, they encountered the Despair Ancient Dragon, Ataraxia.
He was one of the mightiest among the dragonkin, but they felt no fear.
On the contrary, their hearts blazed with fighting spirit.
For newly minted adults like them to defeat a high-ranking dragonkin warrior.
How exhilarating would that be?
It was a golden opportunity to elevate the tribe's prestige.
The prestige of the Dusk Tribe.
They believed that with the four of them combining their strength, victory was within reach.
In fact, they were holding their own evenly against Ataraxia.
They withstood his magic and draconic incantations steadfastly.
That's when he appeared.
'He showed up out of nowhere. I couldn't even sense his presence.'
Even now, recalling that moment sent chills down Urkan's spine.
From behind Ataraxia.
He just materialized abruptly.
As if he'd been there from the start, without disturbing the air in the slightest.
Honestly, they hadn't even noticed he was there.
He had been watching while maintaining perfect 'non-existence'.
Yet the being who revealed himself appeared to be an utterly ordinary human.
In human form, he spoke indifferently.
"Pierce the Illusion Guardian Graktus."
Repeating the name of the Illusion Guardian that no one had discerned.
"Divine Punishment."
He uttered 'Divine Punishment', considered the most basic among basic spells.
In that instant, the star of light transformed into a ferocious beast and shot toward the Illusion Guardian.
In the blink of an eye, it began tearing into Graktus.
In response, the Illusion Guardian spewed forth all its curses.
"M... mas... ter......"
"Im... pos... si... ble...... g... rea... t... er... ror...!"
Urkan remembered it clearly.
He could never forget.
The Illusion Guardian's final words.
The awe and terror mingled in that exclamation.
Once Graktus finally vanished, a massive flood of curses poured out.
And all those curses flowed straight toward that being, who seemed neither fully human nor dragonkin.
He devoured the curses.
The curses unleashed by the Illusion Guardian were devastating enough to overwhelm even them!
'Is he the new master of the Despair Clan?'
'We've identified pretty much every notable dragonkin, though...!'
'No way, one of the primordial dragons?'
'It can't be Sepiro, right?'
Back then, the young warriors stared at the monster in human guise and wondered.
Who on earth was he?
They had no idea.
They couldn't get a read on him at all.
But one thing was certain.
...They could never win against him.
If he was the one Ataraxia revered so deeply, he had to be even stronger.
They were barely holding their own against Ataraxia alone, so there was no chance against someone even mightier.
In that moment, the human stepped before them.
After confirming their faces.
"Ataraxia, I'm heading to the 13th floor."
"Yes!"
He brushed past them swiftly, as if they were beneath his notice.
Once the two had vanished.
The young warriors could only collapse to the floor in exhaustion.
In the end, Urkan returned and asked the elder.
Who that being they encountered truly was.
Was it really Sepiro? Or perhaps another primordial ancient dragon?
"Urkan. If what you saw is true, then it is definitely not Sepiro."
The wisest elder of the Dusk Tribe, Elias the Abyss-Seer, declared.
A being said to have lived through eons, his wisdom surpassing even Pandarian.
Upon hearing Urkan's account, he lost his lifelong composure and paled in horror.
"Sepiro is arrogant, but his power operates within the laws of the Abyss. He dominates the laws but never defies them. But the being you described... is different."
The elder's voice trembled ever so slightly.
"One who devours all illusions' curses and is deemed a 'greater error' by the Illusion Guardian must be a kind of existence that shouldn't be in this Abyss. It means a being outside the laws, an alien substance the system cannot recognize."
Elias rose from his seat and gazed at the dark sky outside the window.
"One who consumes curses. The master of curses, or curses incarnate. For Ataraxia to submit to him suggests a connection to the origin of dragonkin. To simultaneously dominate dragons and curses—two opposing forces... It's unimaginable."
He turned back to Urkan.
Deep concern filled Elias's eyes.
"Urkan, my child. Listen well. If, gods forbid, you ever encounter that being again, never oppose him. Do not provoke him, do not even let him notice you. Hide in the shadows and wait for him to pass."
"Is he truly that terrifying?"
"Magic and curses resemble each other but are polar opposites. Like light and darkness, they repel one another. Yet the being you saw dominates both opposites and even devoured them. It's like... fire swallowing water—a phenomenon that defies reason."
The elder paused, taking a breath as if to explain something more fundamental.
"He exists in the Abyss yet stands outside its laws. He has an origin, yet he has none."
"I'm sorry. I don't understand what you're saying."
Confusion filled Urkan's face.
"It's natural not to understand. Even I cannot fully comprehend that existence."
Elias sighed.
"He clearly exists, but no law proves his existence. He wields power, yet its origin cannot be traced. He is part of this world, yet simultaneously a foreign entity within it."
The elder grasped Urkan's shoulder.
"He is like a mirage—avoid him. Visible yet intangible, beautiful yet substanceless. So if you meet him again, flee without fail. Those who chase mirages meet only death."
It came back to him.
Clearly, Elder Elias's warning resurfaced.
So Urkan immediately dropped to his knees. In reverence.
That existence was a mirage.
Impossible to grasp, impossible to exist—like an illusion.
Yet at the same time, a 'god' that undeniably existed.
'Those who chase mirages are doomed to die.'
Even if they fought, young adults like them stood no chance.
No—even if every warrior of the Dusk Tribe combined their might, they wouldn't reach the hem of that being's robe.
Better to coexist with this incomprehensible entity than die pointlessly here.
That was the only path for him, his comrades, and their tribe.
Park Chan-woo watched their swift shift in attitude with interest.
"That quick judgment is what saved your lives."
He said softly.
He recognized them, but hadn't expected them to kneel so instantly.
It was a desperate bid for survival, and he respected that.
Starting an unnecessary fight would only be a loss for him anyway.
If they offered reverence and obedience, he could simply use them as needed.
"I forgive your rudeness."
Urkan and the other warriors breathed sighs of relief.
But their bodies remained prostrated on the ground, unable to move.
Without his permission, they dared not even lift their heads.
Park Chan-woo glanced down at them briefly before turning toward the ruined temple interior.
"Follow me."
Urkan and the warriors inwardly tilted their heads.
Follow him...?
Into the temple ruins of the Forgotten God—what did he plan to do there?
Even at a glance, it reeked of corrupted divinity.
The divine power of fallen gods had twisted into curses, ready to afflict anyone who entered with all manner of maledictions.
Typically, such 'trials' required finding an item nearby that halved curses before venturing in.
Yet Park Chan-woo strode into the temple without hesitation.
'What do we do?'
'Should we follow?'
'Into that curse-infested place bare-handed?'
The Dusk Tribe warriors exchanged uneasy glances.
Entering a place teeming with curses unprotected was suicide.
But as Park Chan-woo drew away, their shadows—the 'Dusk'—began to rampage once more.
"...We swallowed the wrong thing and got indigestion."
Urkan muttered bitterly.
Devouring that incomprehensible being's shadow had been the root of their trouble.
The farther he got, the more it would spiral out of control.
With a sigh, Urkan spoke again.
"We follow. It seems our lifelines are already in that existence's grasp."
Inside the temple.
A hell beyond the Dusk Tribe warriors' wildest imaginations unfolded.
Overwhelming curses poured endlessly from all directions.
Wrathful faces emerged from walls and pillars, shrieking at them, while corrupted divine power rose like black mist from the floor, clutching at their ankles.
At the end of these curses lay the ticket for this leg of the race.
But the moment they touched them, body, mind, and soul would be tainted, driving them mad.
Urkan and the warriors froze in terror.
Unable to take a single step, they stood rooted to the spot.
Their instincts screamed that entering meant death.
But something strange happened.
The waves of curses surged right up to their noses, yet halted as if blocked by an invisible wall, never touching their bodies.
Urkan looked down at himself in confusion.
Then he realized.
His shadow was pinned motionless to the floor.
As if a giant hand gripped it tightly.
He looked up at Park Chan-woo's retreating back.
That existence was holding their shadows.
Blocking all curses flowing toward them through the shadows.
'Is he truly... the master of curses?'
The memory from the Tower of God flashed through Urkan's mind once more.
The awe-inspiring sight of him devouring every curse of the Illusion Guardian.
He glanced around.
All the curses in the temple moved as if alive, parting around Park Chan-woo.
No trace of curse lingered on the path he tread.
It felt as if every curse avoided only him—Park Chan-woo.
No, it was certain.
The corrupted divine power of the Forgotten Gods could not harm that existence in the slightest.
On the contrary, the Forgotten Gods themselves seemed to flee and cower from him.
Even more so.
"Chronos."
Park Chan-woo drew something like a chalice from his bosom.
The chalice was in poor shape.
Mostly shattered, barely holding its form.
The fake Holy Grail crafted by Chronos.
The remnants of the one handed to Lee Hyuk-soo had transferred to him upon his resurrection.
Park Chan-woo placed it on the floor.
And spoke.
"Shadow God. Forgotten specters. Reveal yourselves before me."
Swaaaaaaaa!