Chapter 338
Chapter 338
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 338
Chapter Title: Contract (2)
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Heavenly Realm outpost, Hirimono.
This was a place in the Heavenly Realm teeming with relatively weak foes. It felt like it had been designed specifically to nurture players in the early stages.
Even so, as a hunting ground for early High Master levels—Lv350 to Lv375—it wasn't a pushover for just anyone.
It was merely child's play for Rokan, who had already ascended to the Grand Master realm.
Proof of that came from the American representatives, top players who were struggling hard against them.
"Block it there!"
"Tie them down properly!"
"The left flank's giving way! More support!"
The difficulty spiked because so few players had ventured into this area yet.
Excluding a handful of Celestials, no one else hunted here, so they had to handle every respawning monster themselves.
'Hmm.'
Rokan watched the group move with organic precision, honed from long hours together, and fell deep into thought.
How should he take them out to make his handiwork spread like wildfire?
He'd already memorized the faces and names of his targets, along with their positions, so he stroked his chin contemplatively.
If they realized it was him, they'd bolt like scared rabbits.
They might have heard the rumors of his Grand Master ascension, but they knew full well they still couldn't match him even if they all piled on.
To gift each of them ten deaths, he needed a bit of strategy.
'Maybe I should pick up a few things while I'm at it?'
After observing them for a bit, Rokan slipped back into the city.
He headed straight for the guild houses of every class.
Reaching Grand Master had unlocked most class skills for him, but he'd only learned a select few he actually needed. Now, he began acquiring them all.
To disguise himself as a completely different class, a completely different player.
"Keuk!"
Kwaaang!
Moments later, the American players deep in their hunt froze in shock.
But they had no chance to react. Powerful AoE spells swept over them before they could blink.
"Magic?"
"It's a Celestial!"
It was Rokan, masquerading as a mage.
He gripped the Sea God's Trident—which boosted Intelligence and Spirit instead of a staff—and unleashed a barrage of spells.
"Wh-why is a Celestial...?"
"Block it!"
"Dodge!"
Commands clashed in the chaos as countless players died without a clue.
A dedicated mage player would outclass him normally, but the trident's massive magic attack power, combined with pre-cast high-tier spells fueled by heaps of time and mana, unleashed devastation even High Masters couldn't withstand.
On top of that, Rokan was in Polymorph as a pure Celestial, amplifying the confusion.
Why was a pure Celestial attacking them?
Weren't they on friendly terms? Sure, after Rokan's interference turned their battle with Gromtan into a loss, their reputation had tanked—but surely they'd recovered by now?
So, should they fight back?
While they hesitated, the next AoE spell engulfed most of them. They crumpled under the overwhelming damage, crushed without mercy.
Their first death, clueless to the end.
Kill count: 1.
But what they didn't know was that this was just the beginning.
"Whew, that was easy."
Even Rokan, the one casting the spells, was surprised. He'd expected power, but this?
The item carried him hard, exceeding his wildest hopes. It even crossed his mind that magic first strikes might work on non-aggressive monsters sometimes.
Still, he had no plans to overhaul his style. No one knew better than him that the axe suited him best.
Before they could respawn, Rokan swapped the Sea God's Trident for another weapon and vanished into stealth.
"A sector clear."
"B sector clear."
"No issues in C sector."
"No sign of the enemy. Standing by."
Soon after, they returned.
Fearing Rokan, perhaps, they sent scouts first—but he stayed hidden. He wasn't after small fry; he wanted the core officers from each guild.
He dodged the search parties, hunkering down until they regrouped.
"Damn it. Where the hell did that crazy Celestial come from...?"
"Griell confirmed he had nothing to do with it, right?"
"Yes. Seems like just some lunatic causing trouble. You know how pure Celestials despise regular ones. Probably one of those."
"Still, stay sharp just in case..."
Puk!
Verdan, reappearing, couldn't finish.
His heart was pierced, skull shattered.
Rokan had drawn a spear and struck.
An ultra-fast thrust too swift for reaction. Stealth ensured no time to notice.
"What the—another one?!"
"Why...!"
Unlike before, they tried to fight back this time. They'd gotten permission from a friendly pure Celestial, after all.
But resistance didn't mean capture.
The spear was a Legend-grade relic from the oceans, and the strike layered skills from multiple classes—even if not Gale Incarnation.
Unbeknownst to them, Full-Body Peerless was active too.
The Master skill amplified attack power with every step, brooking no defiance.
"You crazy Celestial bastard!"
They charged screaming, but that was it.
Few withstood even a casual thrust from Rokan. The power gap was absolute.
Thus came their second death.
'Will they come again?'
Rokan stealthed once more after wiping them.
No guarantee after two futile wipes.
He could rely on the Ten-Thousand Slayer title and rampage in the city, but Celestials might intervene. Better to settle it in the hunting grounds.
Not scared—just annoying.
He wanted them gone fast, contract fulfilled, Void Gate opened.
'Look at these guys.'
He waited ages.
Just as he thought they'd quit for the day, something caught his eye.
'Not bad, they used their heads.'
They'd brought a pure Celestial along.
No matter the intimacy, one wouldn't volunteer lightly—must've cost them big.
'Which means an even bigger price now.'
[Haniel, Knight of the Heavenly God][Lv 403]
Level 403, Grand Master-tier knight. They figured it was reliable—but only because they didn't know Rokan.
He waited for them to settle, then struck from behind Haniel, who stood arms crossed, face sour, not joining the fray.
Sea God's Trident again.
To one-shot a Grand Master, he needed the right tool.
"Chogyeok."
Using Chogyeok!
No Gale Incarnation or Blood Awakening, but terrifying energy gathered at the trident's tips.
Sensing it? Haniel twisted desperately—but couldn't fully dodge. He'd let his guard down.
Never imagining a fellow pure Celestial—mere visitor-hater—would dare strike, arms still unfolding as his gut was impaled.
"Kuhuk...!"
Vacant eyes.
A proper fight, and he wouldn't die to unbuffed Rokan in one hit. But he failed to evade or tank the Chogyeok.
Eyes wide in horror and disbelief, he was sucked into the energy.
Soul shattered, erased.
"Th-that can't be!"
The Americans finally grasped it, panicking. A pure Celestial one-shotting another pure Celestial—a Grand Master, no less?
Pure Celestials' tight-knit bonds made it unbelievable, but that destructive power terrified them.
Even same-realm Grand Masters—possible?
"Attack!"
Chaos aside, they judged wisely. Past fights proved fleeing impossible; might as well resist.
That skill must've drained him plenty.
Luck might let them exploit a gap for a fatal blow, escape, or buy time.
But they learned how arrogant that was soon enough.
"Hmph!"
Each trident swing from Rokan pulverized their skills.
God-tier weapon's might.
Raw physicals and gear alone let him smash spells and skewer bodies.
Their third death arrived.
'No more coming.'
Power gap clear? No fourth clash.
Maybe paying dearly for the pure Celestial's death, getting reamed by others—but as they didn't show, Rokan clicked his tongue in mild disappointment and entered the city.
Armed completely differently.
Disguise via gear alone sufficed.
Players struggled distinguishing Celestial faces—like Westerners with Eastern ones, vice versa.
Change kit, stroll right by unnoticed.
"Where'd that psycho even come from?"
"No way some pure-blood supremacist group formed, right?"
The Americans huddled in the city, on high alert. Fearing an anti-visitor faction.
Prideful, arrogant pure Celestials? Plausible.
Resentment toward fast-rising visitors? Understandable. So they cowered, chattering.
'None here.'
No target officers. Summoned by pure Celestials, paying the price—rep loss or massive compensation.
Rokan eavesdropped from stealth, confirmed they'd skip hunting soon, and logged off.
They couldn't halt forever; tomorrow it was.
No—four deaths meant huge EXP loss; they'd hunt harder.
Thus, Rokan hunted next day, and the next.
Realizing bunching up was death, guilds scattered—but delays aside, tracking and killing wasn't hard.
Spear, hammer, dagger, halberd, even fists—varied kills over days brought the promised 10-death count with Russians within reach.
"Polymorph release."
Rokan eyed the Americans, hunt-will shattered, and dropped the polymorph.
Back to himself.
High chance they'd link the massacres to him now—but he didn't care. Nay, he hoped they would; that's why he revealed.
"Eek!"
"R-Rokan?"
"No way he was behind all this...!"
Puk!
No mercy spared.
Post-polymorph, his power surged; spotting him sapped their fight instantly.
But one exception.
Verdan, facing his tenth death—Rokan didn't end him quick.
To punish selling him out? Toy and torture instead?
Tempting, but another motive.
One that netted profit while checking foreign players.
A very fun motive.