Chapter 526
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 526
Chapter Title: Quickly
The word "night."
To humanity, it was terror incarnate.
Ever since the Abyss opened, countless nights had engulfed the Earth.
Once a month, without fail, on the night of the full moon.
Beings known as the "Night Managers" would impose brutal wagers across the entire planet.
The "First Night."
Humanity remembered that nightmarish beginning, when they had to slay all the Twelve Divine Generals prowling the cities before dawn broke.
The "Second Night."
A stage of betrayal and distrust, where people were divided into fugitives and hunters, forced to kill one another.
The "Third Night," the "Fourth Night"...
The forms varied each time, but the essence remained the same.
Struggling to survive under fixed rules.
A vicious survival game where defeat meant death—or something far worse.
But we didn't know.
That none of it had been the true "night."
"...That thing."
A low sigh escaped Zero's lips from the jade throne of the Dragon God Temple, where he had observed everything.
Acting as Park Chan-woo's proxy, he had touched upon countless truths of the Abyss.
He had even grasped the essence of the authority wielded by the Night Managers.
But now, those thirteen horrific moons hanging in the sky transcended all his understanding and calculations.
Night.
It wasn't merely the time after sunset in a single day.
The "Night Managers."
Entities like Aheta or the Demon King of Cataclysm had merely been delegated partial "usage rights" to that system.
The "night" had no owner to begin with.
Or rather, it had lost its owner.
They were mere usurpers, lounging on the empty throne of a forgotten master, toying with the leftover authority for their amusement.
The title of "Manager" was proof of their limitations.
And now.
"The master of night... has returned."
The true master of night.
The primordial being who, at the dawn when the Abyss stirred, had forged the very concept of "night" with its own will.
The first demon, Lilith.
Her descent wasn't just the arrival of one powerful foe.
It meant the colossal system, long dormant, had finally reclaimed its master and awakened.
Kwarrrrng!
Before the eyes of every being on the battlefield—no, every lifeform scattered across the entire Abyss—a red system window appeared simultaneously, as if by promise.
Chaos swept through the entire Abyss.
"All Abysses," "all entities" without exception?
What did this mean?
It wasn't limited to those on the battlefield.
The dragonkin territories, the giants' mountains, even the demons' hidden cities in the Abyss's deepest reaches.
Every being that had lingered safely in their domains, merely watching the war.
They were dragged onto this massive stage, regardless of their own will.
Neutral factions that had turned their backs to ally with demons, even the New World Alliance's rear guard— all screamed as they were ensnared in this horrific night scenario.
Could this even be called a war?
It was an unprecedented "cataclysm" transcending dimensions.
The thirteen moons began pouring different curses upon the land.
Under the pale light of the "Moon of Death," all flames of life flickered out.
Weaker beings crumbled to ash merely from exposure.
The "Blood Moon" halted regeneration from all wounds, turning even minor cuts into uncontrollable hemorrhages.
The "Moon of Plague" poisoned the air, corrupting all that breathed, while the "Moon of Madness" eroded the minds of the most rational, devolving them into beasts that tore at each other.
The New World Alliance's forces plunged into chaos in an instant.
Their orderly ranks crumbled, their perfect coordination shattered.
The most brutal weapon Lilith had unleashed.
A question transcending physical destruction, striking at the root.
"What are you fighting for right now?"
To protect the world.
To safeguard their home.
Wasn't war, at its core, about survival?
The dragons had pledged loyalty to the new god who saved them from extinction.
The giants stood here to learn new values beyond mere might—coexistence.
Countless weaker races gripped trembling weapons, dreaming of a peaceful tomorrow free from trampling by the strong.
At the root of all those noble causes and hopes lay one simple, fervent wish.
To protect their family, their comrades, their world.
But now.
Those thirteen ominous moonlights illuminated not just the battlefield, but the entire Abyss.
Drenching the very "homes" they fought to defend in blood.
The hologram before Zero on the Dragon God Temple's throne flooded with red warning messages.
[Warning: Massive casualties confirmed in territories of multiple New World Alliance races.]
[Warning: Plague curse spreading across dragonkin territory 'Draconis.' Casualties surging.]
[Warning: Madness curse descends on giant territory 'Jotunheim.' Internal riots and self-destruction risk detected.]
[Warnings continuing...]
Dozens, hundreds of reports poured in relentlessly.
All conveying the same message.
Their homes were burning.
Everything they fought to protect was collapsing in this very moment.
"...No."
In the heart of the battlefield, a dragonkin warrior who had just severed a demon's neck froze.
Before his eyes, communication magic relayed the horrors of his homeland in real time.
Burning cities.
His kin crumbling amid screams.
How could he fight like this?
If there was no home to return to even in victory, could it truly be called victory?
A perfect blind spot.
The Achilles' heel named "family" in the grand fortress of "alliance" that Park Chan-woo had built.
Lilith had pierced it precisely.
The tide began to turn.
Someone dropped their weapon first and turned from the field.
"Sorry!"
His cry drowned in the chaotic din.
"I... have to go back! To where my children, my wife are!"
That sparked it.
One, two.
More and more abandoned the fight to rush home.
No one could blame them.
They had stood here to protect everything.
If it all vanished, there was no reason left to fight.
Even commanders trying to halt the exodus began to waver.
They too were sons, fathers.
The demons howled with mad laughter at the sight.
They didn't even need to fight.
The New World Alliance was collapsing from within.
Zero's expression atop the throne was coldly set.
He hadn't failed to predict this. But there was no solution.
It was a realm of raw, instinctual human emotion beyond logic or efficiency.
A variable he could never calculate.
And it was the same for Park Chan-woo.
If the ranks crumbled like this, the alliance would fall.
To stop Lilith, they had to advance on the battlefield.
Restore order, rally the scattering forces, destroy the source of those nights in the sky.
That was the only path to "grand victory."
But.
"..."
His gaze shifted elsewhere.
To Earth.
Park Chan-woo could feel it.
His forsaken home groaning defenselessly under those thirteen curses.
Earth lacked the power to withstand this night.
The Species War's blessing had lifted level caps, but fledgling humanity couldn't endure primordial curses.
The Absolute Barrier protected Earth, but Lilith's night was a law that eroded the world from within, mocking physical shields.
Left unchecked, humanity would perish.
All he had fought for would turn to ash.
He had to choose one.
Victory in this war.
Or safeguarding his home—humanity.
"..."
Since regressing, he had faced countless crossroads.
But none as cruel as this.
Defeat here, and the entire Abyss would succumb to Lilith's night.
The hope of a new era would extinguish, reverting to demonic chaos.
But abandoning humanity stripped all meaning from the fight.
"If... if I were the cold Magic Swordsman from before regression, I wouldn't have hesitated."
Sacrificing the small for the great.
Enduring minor losses for greater triumph.
That was the sole survival law he had learned.
Humanity's fall would hurt, but he would rationalize it as an inevitable sacrifice to save the Abyss.
But he was different now.
He remembered the warmth of the meal Lee Hyuk-soo's mother prepared.
The pure faith in the "Tears of Dawn" gifted by a small village chief at the festival.
He had come this far to protect those ordinary, trivial things.
And now, to abandon them?
Never.
He reached a conclusion.
Perhaps foolish, sentimental, illogical.
But to him, it was the only answer.
Park Chan-woo turned from the battlefield.
And hurled himself toward his home—Earth.
All in the Dragon God Temple watched his movement in bated breath.
They couldn't understand.
Their god seemed to abandon the entire army and flee the field alone.
Fleeing in anticipation of defeat?
Or some deeper intent?
"..."
Only Zero vaguely grasped his purpose.
And a faint, incomprehensible smile touched his lips.
Inefficient. Illogical.
But.
"...That's why you're Park Chan-woo."
The one variable transcending all his calculations.
Zero decided to simply watch what miracle he would create next.
Holding this crumbling front line with all he could muster.
"Guess I'll have to go all out."
Zero headed to the battlefield.
Thirteen nights.
Humanity groaned beneath them.
Earth had become hell.
The Absolute Barrier from the Species War's blessing was useless against Lilith's curses.
Night's law applied equally to all, sneering at physical barriers by transcending space-time.
The thirteen ominous moons over Seoul warped and tainted everything their light touched.
People collapsed screaming.
Under the "Moon of Death," the elderly and children crumbled to ash first.
The "Moon of Plague's" green miasma rotted even sturdy youths in seconds.
The most horrific was the "Moon of Madness."
Those enthralled by its violet moonlight lost reason and attacked one another.
Yesterday's neighbor became today's foe; families bared teeth at kin everywhere.
"Block it! By any means!"
Humanity's surviving heroes desperately formed defensive lines.
But against this calamity, their options were few.
They had to clear these thirteen trials as swiftly as possible.
And pray the alliance forces battling far away in the Abyss held out.
But Park Chan-woo, having endured countless nights, knew better.
Night trials weren't one-sided massacres.
They always took the form of a "game."
No matter how unfair or brutal, they hid clearable "rules" and "objectives."
Night Managers had toyed with foes using those rules, only to be undone by exploiting their loopholes.
Every Night Manager had met their end by Park Chan-woo's hand.
This time would be no different.
He headed first to the "Moon of Death's" domain—Seoul's heart.
The air was frigid, life signs faint.
Streets filled with fading silhouettes and despairing groans.
In the sky loomed the "Moon of Death" as a skeletal reaper wielding a massive scythe, freezing all in pale light.
'Death's Danse Macabre' – Welcome.
📍 Objective: Find and destroy the Death Chalice before the night ends.
⚠️ Penalty: Those who fail to evade the Eyes of Death will find eternal rest.
Park Chan-woo looked up.
Countless "Eyes of Death" hidden in the moonlight watched him.
U unavoidable surveillance. Ordinary souls would shatter upon contact.
But Park Chan-woo ignored them.
"Death, huh."
A bitter smile curled his lips.
Death couldn't bar one who had devoured even the abyss.
He had died countless times, crossed death's threshold endlessly.
Death was no terror to him—just an old, familiar companion.
Whoosh!
Abyssal darkness erupted from his body.
Before death's light could touch him, the abyss's void devoured and nullified it.
He was a death deeper than death, an end more primal than apocalypse.
With eyes of insight, he scanned the city.
There.
The point where death's aura condensed thickest—the origin and end of all deaths.
Atop the National Assembly building's dome roof, a massive skeletal chalice spewed black energy.
Kwaaaaa!
Park Chan-woo's body shot skyward like a black meteor.
The Moon of Death unleashed intensified death rays in alarm, but none pierced his abyss.
Bam!
Reaching the chalice instantly, he swung Baal's sword without pause.
Black lightning cleaved the air; the Death Chalice split silently into dust.
It took less than a minute.
'Blood Festival' begins.
📍 Objective: Slay all 13 hidden "Blood Lords" across the city and destroy the Blood Chalice before the night ends.
The next trial began without respite.
The "Blood Moon" wept crimson tears, scattering blood droplets across the city.
Upon hitting the ground, they birthed ravenous vampires—the "Blood Lords"—pouncing on people.
Park Chan-woo closed his eyes.
Thirteen blood auras scattered citywide.
He pinpointed their coordinates.
Then, tens of thousands of black swords bloomed from his back.
"Infinity Sword Emperor."
Swooooosh!
Tens of thousands of blades rained down like a storm on the thirteen targets.
The Blood Lords vanished screaming, impaled before awareness dawned.
Crash!
Their heart—the Blood Chalice—shattered under myriad strikes.
"Next."
Park Chan-woo murmured indifferently.
Lilith's nights were brutal, but also foolish.
She had slumbered too long, unaware of the world's changes.
In the past, her nights would have been inescapable calamities for mortals.
But she never imagined one would rise against that terror, transcending limits.
The night of plague.
Before Park Chan-woo's transcendent body, it was mere fragrant mist.
The night of despair.
To his soul, scarred by endless apocalypses, it felt like a child's tantrum.
Every night ended with a "chalice," and Park Chan-woo demolished them mechanically, at breakneck speed—like badge collecting.
With each cleared night, one of the thirteen moons blanketing Seoul lost its light and faded.
The curse's density lifted; people caught their breath bit by bit.
Survivors stared dazedly at the miraculous scene unfolding before them.
Their god.
Facing the thirteen disasters alone.
When even the twelfth night, "Labyrinth of Solitude," was swallowed by his abyss.
Only one moon remained over Seoul.
The darkest, deepest—the source of all curses.
The "Final Night," infused with Lilith's essence.