Chapter 506
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 506
Chapter Title: Sniper on Park Chan-woo (2)
[You... have you lost your mind, Pitch-Black Lord!]
Six thrones vibrated simultaneously in fury.
The consciousness space of the seven lords was boiling over with the madness unleashed by the Pitch-Black Lord.
[How dare you act without our consent! To open a sniper Abyss single-handedly in the heart of Valhalla, where countless races have gathered! This is blatant overreach, a suicidal act that will drag us all to ruin!]
Despite their fierce denunciations, the Pitch-Black Lord merely lounged obliquely on his throne, chuckling away.
There was no respect in his eyes for his fellow lords.
Only contempt, as if he were gazing upon terrified old men.
[Cowards.]
The Pitch-Black Lord's sneer pierced sharply toward the remaining six lords.
[Still unable to grasp the situation? We've already lost.]
A brief silence fell over his mad outburst.
The Pitch-Black Lord continued.
[Park Chan-woo forced us to execute two of our own lords with our own hands, became the God of Dragons, and even shook the very foundations of the Abyss to pull the Transcendents to his side. If we just sit here twiddling our thumbs, the Abyss's hegemony slipping from the demons' grasp is only a matter of time. No, it might have already slipped away.]
He closed his eyes.
Merely a few months since the Interracial War.
He recalled how drastically the Abyss had changed in that short span.
The World Tree connected all realms, mana flows stabilized, and the limits of all beings were unleashed.
Like fresh sprouts budding from a rotten old tree, the Abyss brimmed with vitality incomparable to before.
Except for one race: the demons.
[How long do you think we, whose growth has stalled, can hold out against those mad bastards growing stronger by the day?]
His question stabbed at the six lords' most painful spot.
For now, demons barely maintained the balance of power with the overwhelming quantities amassed over eons and the vast gains from their established hegemony.
But that was nothing more than a death sentence with a timer.
The well had run dry, and the dam was crumbling.
[Moreover, the Abyss is now connected as one! The era of freely opening created Abysses in the territories of weaker races for our amusement, plundering their resources to build our strength—that's over. Now, all our territories lie within striking distance of the alliance army led by that bastard Park Chan-woo!]
The Pitch-Black Lord shot to his feet from his throne.
[Open your eyes. Realize that Park Chan-woo hasn't shown us mercy. He's merely slyly wrapping a noose around our necks, bit by bit.]
And he emphasized.
[If time passes like this, we'll either collapse on our own or crawl at that bastard's feet, begging for our lives! Before that happens, we must flip this rotten board upside down!]
Yes.
If not now, it was over.
If they didn't eliminate Park Chan-woo at this very moment, the demon race had no future.
The Pitch-Black Lord saw this more clearly than anyone.
That's why he had staked everything he had.
His throne, all his territories, even his very existence as an offering—to open a sniper Abyss of unprecedented scale in Abyss history: 'Primordial Darkness'.
He knew the other lords would oppose it.
Steeped in defeatism, they sought only ways to preserve their vested interests without irking Park Chan-woo.
So he hadn't sought their approval.
Now the die was cast.
[You... do you think you can bear the consequences of this!]
[If Park Chan-woo doesn't die in this Abyss, his wrath will turn on all of us! Then we're truly finished!]
To their screams laced with warnings, the Pitch-Black Lord flashed another mad smile.
[Doesn't die? As if.]
Absolute certainty gleamed in his eyes.
['Primordial Darkness' is my world, forged with everything I have. No light, no hope, no miracles exist there. Only pitch-black despair and chaos. Under the rules I myself created, no being can defy my will.]
It was on a different trajectory from ordinary Abysses.
Forcing entry into the mental world of the Pitch-Black Lord—chaos incarnate.
Once one set foot inside, Park Chan-woo would confront the most primal darkness.
All the convictions and bonds he had built, all the hopes sustaining him, would lose meaning, leaving only desperate instincts for survival.
And in that solitary darkness, the Pitch-Black Lord would whisper.
'Kill your comrade.'
'Betray the one who trusts you.'
'Do so, and I shall grant you light.'
[Park Chan-woo is immersed in his hero act. But heroes truly shine when they fall most pathetically from their most radiant moments.]
The Pitch-Black Lord imagined it.
The moment Park Chan-woo succumbed to temptation, piercing Lee Hyuk-soo's heart with his own hand, throttling Adora's throat.
Or the reverse.
The world was dyed in darkness in an instant.
Just a split second ago, the cheers of countless races filling his ears, the lively music, the tantalizing food aromas lingering at his nose.
All of it vanished like a mirage.
Looking around, Valhalla's splendid festival scene had been erased as if it were a lie.
Only perfect nothingness—pure darkness—remained.
Absolute blackness devoid of even a speck of light, stripping away all sense of direction.
'Sniper Abyss.'
Park Chan-woo grasped the situation immediately.
It had been a while.
Especially one so blatantly targeting only him—this was a first.
And it wasn't an ordinary sniper Abyss.
From the faint mana waves drifting in the space, Park Chan-woo instantly identified the Abyss's master.
This was the world of the Pitch-Black Lord.
The demon's mind, its very core.
Which meant.
'He's staked everything he has as well.'
He had put his very existence on the line for this single round.
In ordinary sniper Abysses, paying more coins than the target allowed forced escape.
But not this time.
The host was one of the mighty seven lords.
No matter how many coins Park Chan-woo had, he couldn't surpass a demon lord's wealth.
Even if he could, the Pitch-Black Lord would never allow him to escape.
Escaping with coins was impossible.
'Good. This works in my favor.'
Park Chan-woo saw this not as a crisis, but an opportunity.
Just as he pondered how to subjugate the demons and level up.
The enemy had laid out the board himself.
Inside an Abyss, especially the Pitch-Black Lord's mental world, killing him wouldn't easily draw intervention from the other lords.
This was a perfectly isolated one-on-one duel arena.
A chance to kill the Pitch-Black Lord directly.
The perfect opportunity to raise his remaining levels.
Moreover, the demon didn't know.
'He has no idea how much stronger I've become.'
That he had fully achieved Transcendence in the Tower of the Gods.
Though he hadn't reached Level 0, so his temporary divinity from the Interracial War was lower, his core existence—pure combat power and presence—had grown incomparably stronger.
Having inherited all five stigmata to form a perfect vessel, the demon still judged him by outdated data.
Plus, the Abyss's clear condition it presented.
'Primordial Light!'
The moment he saw that phrase, Park Chan-woo's heart pounded fiercely.
'No doubt. It's one of Ahpe's light or life authorities.'
The father of his Anubis cub, Radiant Anubis.
Ahpe, the former God of Light.
He had fallen after Aheta, the Demon God, stripped him of his divinities of light and life.
Park Chan-woo had promised his son, Radiant Anubis, that he would one day reclaim them and rebuild the temple of the God of Light.
This gave him one more unyielding reason.
He absolutely had to claim that 'Primordial Light'.
For Radiant Anubis, and for his promise to the forgotten god Ahpe.
In the darkness, Park Chan-woo quietly sensed his comrades.
All beings at the festival had been sucked into this Abyss together.
They were likely scattered, confused by this sudden darkness.
'First, I need to rendezvous with everyone.'
The moment Park Chan-woo expanded his mana waves to signal his position to his comrades.
From the darkness, the Pitch-Black Lord's voice echoed directly into every participant's mind.
—Welcome to my darkness. This is a perfectly fair place. The strong, the weak, gods, mortals—all become equally blind.
His voice was cheerful, yet laced with profound cynicism mocking everything.
—The rules are simple. See that light floating there?
As his words ended, a tiny, faint speck of light appeared in the distant pitch-black darkness.
So far away it felt like a star in the night sky.
—That is the 'Primordial Light'. Your one and only hope. To the first who reaches it, I shall open the door out of this Abyss. But the path won't be smooth.
Playfulness colored his voice.
—Hidden in this darkness are little gifts I've prepared. My starving kin that feed on your deepest fears. They'll ensure you're never bored on your way to the light.
And the Pitch-Black Lord appended the cruelest rule.
—Ah, there's one more way. Far simpler and faster than chasing that light.
His gaze pierced Park Chan-woo precisely through the unseen darkness.
No.
Park Chan-woo's position was revealed to everyone.
—Park Chan-woo. Kill that one. The moment he dies, this accursed darkness ends immediately. Now, the choice is yours. Embark on a hopeless journey toward that distant light, or offer the surest sacrifice for everyone's salvation.
—This is pitch-black, a masked ball. No one can recognize each other. No one will know who killed Park Chan-woo.
Having tossed the choice, he cackled and vanished.
It was blatant sowing of discord.
He was certain that in this darkness, comrades would suspect each other and ultimately turn blades on Park Chan-woo.
Isolation and distrust.
Those were the Pitch-Black Lord's most trusted weapons.
Park Chan-woo couldn't just take it lying down.
But if he couldn't identify the opponent.
Rash attacks were problematic in themselves.
'Demons gonna demon.'
Park Chan-woo frowned.
Soon, the first assailant appeared.
Sss...
A faint silhouette emerged soundlessly from the darkness.
The outline was visible, but nothing more.
This space, imbued with the Pitch-Black Lord's authority, distorted all senses.
Faces, races, even mana waves were shrouded like in thick fog—unreadable.
Truly unrecognizable. Who was who.
'If even I can't tell...'
Then no one here could recognize each other.
Park Chan-woo concluded instantly.
No, not quite.
A correction was needed.
In this darkness, one sole existence was recognizable to all.
'Only I am fully visible.'
Himself.
His position shone like a lighthouse in the dark, exposed clearly to everyone.
His mind cooled sharply.
Images of Valhalla's festival flashed by.
They had gathered for peace, but surely among those countless races, some harbored envy or jealousy toward him?
Beneath his overwhelming power, they bowed outwardly but surely nursed other thoughts inwardly.
Forced into the alliance, some races still colluded with demons.
Given how opportunely the Abyss opened, it was obvious the Pitch-Black Lord had inside collaborators.
This situation was their golden chance.
Under the anonymous mask of darkness, under the banner of everyone's salvation, a perfect stage to legally eliminate him.
'I won't go down without a fight.'
But the problem was that killing opponents indiscriminately wasn't viable.
Even whether the approaching shadow was foe or ally was unclear.
If that shadow was a comrade like Lee Hyuk-soo or Adora?
A hasty counterattack would fulfill the Pitch-Black Lord's wish exactly, turning the festival of peace into a slaughterhouse tragedy.
The manifested figure didn't attack.
It merely kept a set distance, watching Park Chan-woo.
Instead, more shadows began gathering behind him, one by one.
Forming a formation as if to protect him.
Likely his loyal comrades.
Ataraxia or Adora, or perhaps Lee Hyuk-soo.
Relief was about to settle in.
The Pitch-Black Lord's voice rang in his mind once more, as if delighted.
—Heroes always have loyal comrades, don't they? But tell me... how long will those tight bonds last?
With those words, the Abyss's laws twisted once again.
The rule of 'Emotion Reversal' is applied to 'Primordial Darkness'.
All positive emotions will convert to their opposing negative emotions.
The Pitch-Black Lord's voice whispered its final words.
—Love becomes hatred, trust becomes betrayal, friendship becomes jealousy! Welcome to my beautiful world, Park Chan-woo!