The Baal Helmet

“It’s the Baal Helmet.”

“A helmet…? Doesn’t that look more like a black goat mask?”

“It looks that way on the surface.”

They called it a helmet, but it was closer to a mask. Yet the fit was better than expected. It was so light I barely noticed I was wearing it, and the ventilation was excellent.

Of the two Myth-grade pieces of equipment I had chosen during the survival settlement, one was the Baal Helmet I now wore.

Who could look at that description and not choose it? Every single line belonged to the realm of beauty. Not one option was disposable.

And the biggest reason I chose the Baal Helmet was Other Side of the Curse.

Proficiency up fifty percent!

It’s multiplication, not addition. It synergizes with Dexterous Hands.

The hidden trait Dexterous Hands doubled proficiency gain. Stack the helmet’s fifty percent on top of that and the efficiency became threefold.

The word “insane” left my mouth on its own. It was a deranged helmet that formed a dream synergy with Dexterous Hands.

Shatiros’s Curse had been stackable, yet beyond that it offered little of note. Compared to that, this was an artifact of an entirely different caliber. It was essential if I wanted an overwhelming result on the next main quest.

And besides—it was shaped like a goat, wasn’t it?

The Silver Fox Mask told me to come wearing a golden goat mask, but this should be fine.

A golden goat or a black goat—they were both goats. If I was heading into the empire that housed the Death God Religion, this was perfect.

The rest of its performance was outstanding as well. For any curse-type class, this was a set you would risk your life to obtain. Conditionally, it even raised Magic Power by ten—an astonishing number for a single piece of gear. Curse-type classes especially needed skill proficiency work, and equipment that raised proficiency gain by fifty percent simply did not exist outside of Unique-grade pieces.

Raising the set pieces would enhance even these effects. Because it applied permanently, the bonuses would remain even after I transformed into the Crow King. And the skills the Crow King used were curse-type.

Above all else—

Baal Armor. Baal Talisman. I have a rough idea where both of them are. The Mountain of the Cultivator and the Empire!

One was on the Mountain of the Cultivator. Why else would the Baal Helmet raise proficiency? It was quietly hinting at a connection to that place. I already had a location in mind on the Mountain of the Cultivator where the Baal Talisman might sleep. And the Baal Armor was definitely in the Empire.

Conveniently, both were places I had to visit anyway.

Gather all three pieces of the Baal Set and the performance will exceed Unique grade.

Honestly, I had agonized over the Pureblood Blueprint as well. But having a blueprint did not mean I could craft it immediately, and circling around hunting materials would take time I did not have. There was no guarantee luck would smile on me the way it had this time—I might never obtain the materials at all. Better to take a piece of gear that made me stronger right now than gamble like that.

Anything with “Baal” in the name is broken by default.

Of course the Baal Helmet itself was excellent enough to erase every other consideration. That went without saying. Every remaining Baal piece I acquired would strengthen its performance further. Considering the hellish leveling that lay ahead, this set was a ray of light for me.

And once all three pieces were gathered, the performance would surpass Unique grade. Reading the transmitted records of Baal—who had been called one of the Four Calamities—let me infer the stature it would hold when complete.

The Four Calamities had been the Old Empire’s greatest headache. There were even stories that the Old Empire fell through the combined work of Ruin and those Calamities; their status had been absolute.

The old Four Calamities feel a lot like the White King of today.

The White King of the North and the Black King of the South. The Four Calamities had spread a notoriety equal to—or greater than—those two.

I smiled faintly and reread the Magic Power option on the Baal Helmet.

Conditional Magic Power increase. Ten points is enough to push past the so-called Magic 100 wall.

I had not chosen it solely for the proficiency option. A single piece of gear granting a full ten Magic Power—conditional or not—was enough to break through the ability range people called Magic 100.

The Baal Helmet and the Brand of Ouroboros. I have no regrets about choosing these two.

I was thoroughly satisfied. I could give up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a Unique-grade blueprint, but I could not give up a Named Star. Especially not a Named Star that had never appeared even once before.

Ouroboros. A name that stirred a man’s sense of adventure, was it not?

Gwaaaash!

“Ghk! H-Heir?!”

Isaac cried out in shock again. He had every right to. Without warning I was pouring the holy water from the Holy Grail over the Saintess’s head in a steady stream.

“Nngh…”

Soon Saintess Seia let out a soft moan and opened her eyes. Even after the holy water, her eyes remained crimson. Still, the lingering fragments of the curse that had clung to her unnoticed would have been completely erased.

The Saintess who had opened her eyes spoke.

“Who are you?”

Of course she would not recognize me.

“Randolph. Heir of the Knight King.”

But what about Wilhelm? If she was the real Saintess Seia, she would have to react.

“Heir of the Knight King… What is that?”

…Hmm?

That was a long way from the reaction I had expected. Not “I don’t know,” but “What is that?” It was not a false response either. Had every memory related to Wilhelm been wiped clean?

Something snagged, so I asked again.

“Do you remember who you are?”

“Me?”

Saintess Seia blinked. Then she pointed at herself with a finger.

“I am… who? Ah—! Why do my neck and head hurt so much?”

She could not remember who she was. And yet… her neck and head hurt?

I looked at Isabella.

“……!!!”

At the same moment, Isabella’s eyes began to shake as if an earthquake had struck them.

After the long commotion had passed, I sorted the present situation in a positive light. Even if her memories were gone, I had still obtained a Saintess whose abilities remained fully intact.

Better amnesia than having to worry about brainwashing.

I had removed the mysteries and curses the Demon King had hidden, but the last thing that still concerned me was brainwashing. Neither the mysteries I possessed nor the Holy Grail could undo it. I could not afford the naive assumption that the Demon King had sent the Saintess into the Labyrinth with only scraps of hostile mystery and residual curse left behind. The odds were high that he had implanted a trigger—specific conditions that would force specific actions.

For example: upon meeting the Goddess Sect or a holy knight, join them and attack people.

If I were the Demon King, I would have laid groundwork related to the Goddess Sect without fail.

There was no chance the Demon King had failed to think of something I had already thought of.

“Do I… go through here?”

Saintess Seia looked at the crimson warp floating before her eyes.

“Yes.”

“A warp is needed to travel between continental cities… Hah! An explanation just floated up in my head.”

“It’s knowledge you already had.”

“Ah, I see. But… it feels ominous. This warp seems different from the ones I know.”

The two of us stood before the warp. More precisely, we were looking at the warp that “the One Who Is the Abyss Itself” had created for the sake of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠erosion. The erosion had been halted, yet the warp Hell had frozen in place still remained—the warp that connected to Earth. It carried a fierce aura strong enough for the Saintess to call it ominous.

A warp made solely for erosion.

It was on a completely different track from ordinary warps. It felt closer to the dimensional warps Ahram had deployed for the first invasion.

Fifty-fifty odds.

We would either be able to cross, or we would not. If we could, the Saintess would be able to treat Oliver’s heart. Both Hudson of Pangenia and Oliver of Earth were critical talents.

I cannot run the Labyrinth City alone.

Isabella and Isaac were both somewhat distant from city administration. If I intended to operate the Labyrinth City going forward, his help was absolutely necessary. He was the only person I could trust to leave in charge when I was away in the Labyrinth.

Hudson was the man who, with nothing but mercantile talent, had built a casino bearing his own name in the Golden City. If he had only been Level 10, he would already have become a city councilor long ago. At the very least, his ability to roll and multiply money was certain. The skill that had run the largest casino would not have gone anywhere either.

So if we could not cross the warp, I would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have to devise another method.

Can we cross?

And what I was even more curious about was whether this body—Randolph—could head to Earth at all. As far as I knew, no player’s character had ever gone directly to Earth. But with a warp this special, was there not a possibility?

A warp left behind by the One Who Is the Abyss Itself. Worth attempting.

A warp that triggered Forced Erosion only once, at the moment the One Who Is the Abyss Itself was completed. Before it could vanish, I had deliberately frozen it through Hell. The value of the attempt overflowed.

Kya-kya?

“Hell. Activate the warp normally.”

Kya-kya-kya-kya!

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Hell spun in circles around the warp. Whoooosh—blue light swirled again as the warp began to operate. Yet the warp was shrinking by the second. With the One Who Is the Abyss Itself gone, the warp he had made was supposed to disappear as well. At most it would last thirty minutes. Without Hell it would have vanished in an instant.

“Let’s go.”

Together with the Saintess, I stepped through the Abyss warp.

The White King’s Call

Edinburgh, the heart of Scotland in England.

In front of the warp on the outskirts of the city of Edinburgh—normally a place that should have been under military control—only two people appeared.

“Young Master. This is dangerous.”

Melson looked at Oliver with an expression that said he was worried sick. Oliver, however, shook his head with stubborn resolve.

“I promised I would wait.”

“Who on earth did you make a promise with, and when? Don’t tell me it’s that person again?”

That person. He meant the man currently in the castle—Park Hyunmyung.

Even now Melson could not understand it. At first he had thought the man was simply a game friend. By now, however, he was certain it was no longer “simply a game friend.” After all, once the man had entered the life-support unit, he had not risen even once for days on end.

If that had been all, it might have been one thing. The problem was the displayed “data.”

It has surpassed the category of human. Every single piece of data being displayed.

Overwhelming vitality and regenerative power. Muscle was constantly being broken down and rebuilt even stronger. Every other reading far exceeded normal ranges. Data that could not be found in any living creature.

Almost like a Dimension Warrior.

The only beings capable of that were Dimension Warriors who had descended and transformed. Melson had received data on them before, and it was extremely similar to Park Hyunmyung’s. He had therefore assumed the man was in a descended state—yet as far as Melson knew, the time one could maintain a descent was extremely limited. Holding it for more than five days was nearly impossible.

Then was he producing Dimension Warrior-level ability even without descending? Melson wanted to examine him in detail, but Park Hyunmyung was Young Master Oliver’s guest.

Young Master Oliver is a Dimension Warrior as well.

There was no secret Melson did not know. He knew everything that happened in the castle and in England. He simply chose not to act as if he knew out of respect for his master.

The reason they had come to this warp was surely in the same vein. He was merely curious. He could not even begin to guess what was supposed to appear here.

Zzeeeerak!

At that same moment, the warp rippled and someone appeared.

“Ahh…!”

Oliver’s entire body trembled finely at the sight. He looked like a man who had witnessed something that should not exist—trembling before a miracle right in front of his eyes.

When I opened my eyes, I was in the castle. I rose from the life-support unit and looked around, then clicked my tongue softly.

I expected as much.

I had attempted it on the thought that if I could enter Earth while still as Randolph, I could conserve Broken Fragments of the Golden Rule. I had not made it across. I had been forcibly logged out, and a severance phenomenon had occurred.

The Saintess? Did Saintess Seia fail to cross as well?

Judging by the absence of Oliver and Melson nearby, they had moved to the location of that warp as I had tipped them off in advance.

In that instant—

Suddenly the message appeared before my eyes along with a map.

That location is…!

Terrain I knew all too well. …It was the location of the warp I had tried to cross. The place connected to the warp created by the One Who Is the Abyss Itself. It seemed the system was recognizing the Saintess who had crossed through that warp as “erosion.”