Chapter 187
Chapter 187
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 187
Chapter Title: Imperial Palace of the Empire (1)
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‘Ha, haha. Wow—this is really weird, huh? I must’ve worked myself too hard after all. Hallucinations weren’t enough, now I’ve got aphasia too? Guess I need to hit up a hospital. How much money did I save up again? Nah, with my abilities now, I can make as much cash as I want anyway, so it doesn’t matter.’
A flood of thoughts raced through Andrew Weaver’s mind in an instant, his uniquely enhanced cognitive abilities—boosted uselessly by his innate skill—running wild.
He couldn’t accept the reality staring him in the face and desperately tried to ‘deny’ it, desperately steering his thoughts elsewhere...
⚙ TELEPATHY ⚙ Hmm, this location... America? Somewhere in the western region... California, it seems. The voice relentlessly shaking his mind made it impossible to ignore the situation any longer.
‘No, why? Why is the Immortal King here! What kind of bullshit is this? This isn’t a joke. How the hell did that monster from Auterica end up on Earth!’
The next stage was ‘anger’.
In truth, he vented quite a bit, but figuring out what the Immortal King really was and how it could be on Earth wasn’t all that important right now.
It wouldn’t change his situation anyway.
‘Please... Do you know how much I’ve suffered all this time! I finally thought I’d reclaimed a peaceful life, and now this? At least give me a little more time...!’
The next stage was ‘bargaining’.
It was his final struggle, having already accepted that the situation was beyond his control.
⚙ TELEPATHY ⚙ Now then, Andrew Weaver—your first mission. Clean up the area immediately and head to Korea. Once you arrive, I’ll send someone to meet you. “Ah.”
The seal on his speech lifted, and a quiet exclamation escaped Andrew’s lips.
But to him, already sunk into ‘depression’, such trivialities didn’t matter.
‘...Yeah, whatever. Still better than working under that ghost Olivia. I think Korea’s not a bad place to live. If they’ve got pizza, cola, and TV... that’s more than enough.’
Finally reaching ‘acceptance’, he nodded calmly with a vacant expression.
“Yes... I shall obey your command, Immortal King.”
Come to think of it, working directly under the ever-busy Immortal King probably wouldn’t be as grueling as his previous nitpicky boss.
And compared to the black magic and death aura spewing from hordes of undead, city smog would feel like perfume.
‘Actually, this might not be so bad? If the work environment improves... it might even be better sticking under a powerhouse like this. Maybe some crumbs will fall my way?’
As the torrent of rapid thoughts subsided and negative emotions ebbed away, the happiness circuits buried deep in his psyche began firing furiously.
While Andrew Weaver in America matured through the five stages of grief...
⚙ TELEPATHY ⚙ Kehh—I figured it’d happen someday, but faster than expected. Got the American coordinates as a bonus too. Saves time for later travel. In Japan, Hans nodded slowly while maintaining the barrier enveloping the area, watching Salma busily harvest deaths.
Booom—!
“Gaaah!”
“Damn it! What’s this black thing? So fast... Ack!”
It took only about 30 minutes for the yakuza organization—including some fairly capable Awakeners—to be wiped out.
Salma’s martial arts synergized impressively with the Abyss, yielding tremendously satisfying results.
He seemed barely different from her living days.
‘As expected, Salma relies mainly on martial arts, so losing his innate skill didn’t hit too hard. He still has his minor skills too.’
Unfortunately, innate skills granted upon Awakening vanished upon the owner’s death, unusable by undead.
A regrettable fact, considering how much most Awakeners depended on them.
Regardless, the Abyss Revenant Salma’s demonic arts demonstration was a resounding success.
Refining the process based on this data would allow for even more efficient specimens going forward.
Hans surveyed the chaotic surroundings leisurely as his undead began cleanup.
As the situation wrapped up, thoughts of Andrew crossed his mind again.
‘With that ability, he’ll let me operate more efficiently from now on. Heterosis can handle management, so no extra worry there.’
Of course, since he’d learned a secret no one should know, reapplying seals meticulously was essential.
He’d never guess Hans’s true identity, but the mere fact that the ‘Hahoe Mask’ could traverse Earth and this world was huge intel.
‘Come to think of it, for intel gathering in Korea, I’ll need to teach him Korean too, right?’
The recent telepathy worked via seals transmitting intent, no issue there—but mismatched languages would cripple his intel efficiency.
No point seeing or hearing if he couldn’t understand.
And Korea wasn’t the only place; he’d need Japanese, Chinese, etc.
‘...Guess I’ll look into language-related magic tools. Just because Auterica lacks them doesn’t mean other worlds do. Though it seems rare, since I’ve never heard of one.’
Still, determined search might turn one up.
Until then, Andrew would have to grind languages himself.
Hans felt zero guilt over the effort required.
Free multilingual training that others paid fortunes for? He should be grateful!
Unbeknownst to Andrew, the shadow of K-education loomed over his peaceful future.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ “Otherworlder, huh...”
Geos Kalkin paused while sharpening his spear in his lodging, muttering softly.
A single phrase from the stranger Hesperon had lodged in his brain, refusing to fade.
‘Not a joke... Could it really be true?’
Weighing the details, the odds of it being nonsense were low.
The atmosphere suggested everyone already knew something.
Which meant...
“I thought it was obviously a joke, but it was real?”
This time, not about Hesperon.
Much earlier—long ago.
Someone who claimed to be an otherworlder, just like him.
Geos’s friend, mentor, and master who taught him this spear and its secret arts.
Thoughts of that person wouldn’t leave his mind.
‘...Might as well check it out sometime. If true, maybe get clues on Hesperon’s abilities too. Should mention it when the Saint arrives.’
Resolving that, he finished sharpening his spear and slowly approached the window, peering out.
No full city view from here, but the visible scene sufficed to grasp Rohan’s plight.
Soldiers bustling armed through the streets, refugees strewn like trash on filthy roadsides.
No hope on any face.
Chaos, despair, grief, resentment, resignation...
The once-prosperous capital brimmed with gloom; all struggled day by day.
‘...Immortal King Hans.’
This chaos stemmed entirely from that being.
Innumerable more suffering unseen.
‘No time for scruples. Best to eliminate him before he pulls something bigger.’
As Geos steeled himself again, his eyes caught a ragged couple clutching a filthy child in an alley corner.
Poor and haggard, yet huddled together, relying on each other—he couldn’t look away for a while.
“Hoo...”
After watching silently, he turned away with a deep, weary sigh.
In these hard times, pitying every sufferer led nowhere.
Besides, as a mere spearman, he lacked the power to shoulder them all.
‘All I can do... is vengeance.’
Wielding the spear blade infused with their rage and grief—that was his limit.
He could only pray its tip pierced the Immortal King’s heart.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The hero party never had much to do in Rohan Principality from the start.
They’d been sent here merely as a ploy to pick up the princess and Hesperon; mission accomplished, no need to linger.
Even top-tier elites like them helped the war effort just by staying briefly, but they couldn’t stay forever in this backwater.
Places awaited ahead, and here, massed armies outshone lone powerhouses.
Thus, the enlarged group departed Rohan days later for the next destination.
With the temple gate still unrepaired, Isea’s spatial magic delivered them straight to—
“Ah...!”
Princess Riley let out a quiet gasp.
How could she not?
The overwhelming architecture before her eyes was all too familiar.
“...Finally.”
Her home, returned to after nearly two months: the imperial palace in Jeron, capital of the Azerion Empire.
“Treatment’s definitely different now that the princess is back. They don’t usually open inner citadel coordinates unless it’s urgent. Never thought they’d allow direct entry even to the palace interior, let alone the inner keep.”
Isea, looking a bit drained from the long-distance group teleport, nodded in satisfaction.
Of course, even ‘interior’ meant an outer facility with coordinates, heavily secured beside the Imperial Guard HQ...
Still, absent special cause, even royals had to proceed from the outer citadel—today’s treatment was VIP indeed.
“Well, with the Saint here too, it’s only natural.”
Currently leading the ‘Anti-Immortal King Special Mobile Strike Force’ on the frontlines, the Church of the Main God’s Saint could dine with the emperor.
Luckily, Heinrich had preemptively declined fanfare like welcoming ceremonies; otherwise, they’d have gotten full state-guest treatment upon arrival.
“Then allow us to escort you to the palace. Please follow us.”
But as they exited the secure zone following the welcoming escorts...
Like beasts pouncing on prey, a crowd loitering outside swarmed in.
“Princess Riley! Congratulations on your return. You must have suffered greatly.”
“Oh! Saint, thank you for saving our princess! Truly, this is the Main God’s grace.”
“Ahem, Viscount Pristine? I’m Viscount Malrap. I have urgent business—”
“Stand back, all of you! They’ve come a long way. Move aside!”
Nobles draped in expensive finery, servile smiles plastered on.
Their intentions so blatant, feigning ignorance was hard.
‘Plenty from factions outside the princess’s original circle. Huh? Even that guy’s from the crown prince’s side.’
Her own faction fawned joyfully; others hustled to switch allegiances.
True to political animals, they’d read the winds and pivoted swiftly.
“Thank you, everyone. Your concern is why I returned safely. Earl Solaine, you’ve thinned since last we met. No matter how busy, mind your health.”
“Sleepless nights worrying for you, Your Highness. Now I can rest easy. Heh!”
“Earl Pianon? Two years since last, I think. How have you been?”
“Ahem, of course. In the capital on business, heard of your safe return—thought I’d pay respects...”
Riley handled them deftly with a haughty demeanor unlike her recent self, reining them in masterfully.
Palace intrigue resumed the moment they entered, but after two months sidelined and frustrated, she welcomed it.
‘To think the cutthroat palace battles I loathed now feel nostalgic.’
Smirking inwardly, Riley soothed the nobles while leading her group toward the palace.
This was her lifelong battlefield.
Time to reignite her personal war, paused only temporarily.