Baal Set, Two of Three

That made two already.

Just the armor left, and the Baal Set would be complete.

I drew a deep breath and checked the talisman's options.

My head nodded on its own.

······ Packed. Absolutely packed. It couldn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have been more loaded if it tried.

Enhancing the helmet's performance alone would have been enough — yet it also carried devastating curse-related functions.

Insane.

The options practically forced the word out of me. They might have looked unremarkable at a glance, but Curse Reflection, increased curse duration on a target, and Curse Penetration were so perfectly balanced that nothing else came close.

If someone curses me, I reflect twenty-five percent of that curse. The reflected twenty-five percent lasts twenty-five percent longer, and it deals penetrating damage that punches straight through curse immunity.

A curse sorcerer would beat the ground and weep over options like these.

Penetration…

Especially that last one. Even among Unique-grade items, the word Penetration was rare — because penetration ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠punched through immunity itself.

You might wonder how something immune could be pierced at all, but in Pangenia, absolute immunity simply did not exist. There were always ways through or around it, and penetration was the most fundamental — and highest-tier — method of them all.

This penetration even punched through Hidden Traits.

So if you could get it, you had to get it. And even if you wanted it, you usually couldn't.

Anyway.

I'm curious what happens to the helmet's performance once I apply this.

I was the type who couldn't stand not knowing. I used the talisman at once.

"······ Insane."

Seeing the transformed helmet's options, my mouth fell open on its own. This wasn't a simple doubling. Some of the options had changed into something outright incomparable.

Maximum level increased by five.

A simple enhancement had only raised the max level by one — that was how I'd been able to push Advanced Corpse Crow Summoning to level eleven. But the moment I applied the talisman, that ceiling stretched five times wider. Now I could raise curse-type skills all the way to level fifteen without even transcending them.

The rarity of an item that raised max level needed no explanation. That alone was astonishing — and it was only the beginning.

Transcendent enhancement.

When it had been Ultimate Enhancement, the corpse crows had simply copied my skills. But once Transcendent Enhancement took hold, the skill itself truly transcended.

The skill evolved into Ancient Corpse Crow Summoning.

So Advanced Corpse Crow Summoning hadn't been the end of the line after all.

Magic Power +10 with no conditions. Applies even without transforming.

An option that had once granted a temporary Magic Power boost of ten only while using curse skills had been rewritten into a permanent passive. Superb. Insanely superb.

But the best part was still the last one.

Proficiency gain rate doubled!

Baal Helmet's double, Dexterity's double, the Constraint Cap's 1.5 times, plus the base proficiency of 100% — that came to a staggering 700%. My proficiency gain rate, which had sat at a combined 550%, had shot up to 700% in an instant.

There wasn't a single option worth throwing away.

I swallowed hard. If two pieces already did this much, I couldn't even imagine what would happen once I gathered all three and completed the set. The rumor that a finished Baal Set could rival Unique-grade gear seemed to be true. It might even surpass most Unique-grade items.

And then—

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

The proficiency grind was only just beginning.

A vast host of monsters had gathered at the mountain's entrance — an army of roughly ten thousand. Creatures of every shape stood in perfect ranks, and at their center stood the orc called Laktusha, a greatsword in his grip, known as a warrior of legendary renown.

"The time is ripe!"

Orcs, by racial nature, possessed an innate genius for weapons. Among them, Laktusha ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠— the finest warrior of all — drew a deep breath.

The one with the highest weapon proficiency becomes the mountain's master.

One of the reasons he had prepared for so long was precisely this: the conquest of the mountain. To reach the summit of the Mountain of the Cultivator. Only by seizing complete control of the mountain could he force the practitioners and the White King's daughter to their knees.

The only one who can conquer this mountain is me — Laktusha alone.

He felt no worry. No one could possibly outrank him in weapon proficiency. Swordmaster. He was the one who had perfected the sword, awakened to its truth, and broken through his own rank.

I have made that enlightenment my own. There is no reason left to hesitate.

Having recently attained that insight, he was certain he no longer had a rival. And that was not all.

I must repay the Black King's grace.

He had grown so strong there was nowhere left to grow. The Black King's grace — that overwhelming curse — had elevated Laktusha to a rank that transcended his own species. He had already been without equal; now he doubted he would lose even against the Four Lords of Kramdel.

The White King's daughter might be famed as a once-in-a-generation genius, but she was still a greenhorn. The only one who could conquer the Mountain of the Cultivator and force the White King's daughter to kneel was himself — the most exceptional among those favored by the Black King.

And if he could also bring the mountain's practitioners under the Black King's banner, he would earn even greater favor.

Laktusha raised his greatsword high toward the sky.

"Climb the mountain! Conquer the mountain! For the glory of the Black King!"

Ziiiiing—!

From Laktusha's greatsword, an ominous black Sword Qi surged high into the heavens.

Every practitioner on the Mountain of the Cultivator had gathered in the Celestial Realm.

"Swordmaster Laktusha is invading the mountain?"

"Isn't Laktusha one of the Black King's direct subordinates?"

"Why would a direct subordinate of the Black King come to the Mountain of the Cultivator?"

"Isn't it obvious? For Lady Aria."

The aggressive intrusion left the practitioners in disarray. This was neutral ground, open to every race — and until now, no one had ever attacked it with open malice.

"Laktusha is climbing the mountain."

"Are we all just going to stand here and watch him reach this place?"

"There haven't been any casualties yet, have there? Then we practitioners have no justification to stop him."

Laktusha was climbing with absolute confidence — sealing the mountain as he went, detaining everyone so no one could leave, conquering the entire peak. The problem was his attitude. If he had slaughtered indiscriminately, the practitioners would have had grounds to intervene. But Laktusha was simply climbing in silence.

And what did that mean?

"He's challenging the summit, isn't he?"

"You mean he's climbing to become the mountain's master?"

"The current master is Lady Aria…"

The one who trained deepest and endured the trials became the mountain's master. The practitioners were bound by duty to protect that master. So if Laktusha targeted Aria, they would have to fight. But if the mountain's master changed to Laktusha?

Every practitioner's gaze turned toward Aria.

"······."

This was not a simple attempt to abduct her by force. Laktusha's intent was to break the trials at the summit, seize the master's seat, and completely subjugate Aria. If she fled here, she would be nothing more than a coward afraid of a challenge.

Not that I could run even if I wanted to.

Aria rose from her seat. The trials to become the mountain's master were three. The final trial was a pure duel against the previous master. That left her no choice but to accept Laktusha's challenge.

Seal Release.

At last, Laktusha reached the Celestial Realm.

"How dull."

A bloodless entry. He had climbed without obstruction, without shedding a single drop of blood — because not one practitioner had stood in his way.

"I expected at least one bold fool among them."

Tsk tsk. Laktusha clicked his tongue as if the whole affair tasted bland. He had heard there were plenty of skilled fighters among the mountain's practitioners. Yet not a single one had the courage to bar his path. Well — only natural, he supposed. Who would stand their ground after seeing the black Sword Qi blazing from his entire body? The gulf in rank was obvious without needing to experience it. Just approaching him would leave them choking and sick with dread.

"······ Oh-ho."

But there was one. A single human who did not flee. A spearman, climbing the mountain at a measured pace. The way he held his spear, the length of his stride, the balance of his movement — the man had real skill.

Laktusha raised his greatsword and swung once.

KRA-KOOM!

With a sound like splitting thunder, a razor-sharp blast of Sword Qi tore toward the spearman.

Ancient Corpse Crows.

Transformed through skill transcendence, they appeared in a form utterly different from the Advanced Corpse Crows.

Waddle. Waddle.

For one thing, the size was completely different — bodies as big as a child, thick with bulk. When they spread their wings, more than a hundred additional corpse crows poured out from what had looked like mere fat.

Caw! Caw! Caaaw!

"······ Walking nests, are you?"

Easily over a thousand. Their numbers had ballooned exponentially, enough to fill the entire temple. And it wasn't just the count.

Caaaw! Caaaw!

They were far more disciplined. The Advanced Corpse Crows I'd summoned before had flown in a chaotic swarm; these Ancient Corpse Crows controlled the lesser crows they'd carried like generals, waiting with blank stares for my command.

"Destroy the Cursed Gicheonseok efficiently. Caw!"

Caaaaaw!

At the order, the Ancient Corpse Crows opened their beaks — and fired waves of curse energy straight at me.

Huh?

Attacking their own master. For a second I wondered if they'd gone mad. But then—

I understood immediately what they were doing. They were firing Curse Wave at me, letting the Baal Helmet amplify it once through reflection, then amplifying that reflected wave again with their own skill. In short — infinite amplification.

And when that endlessly amplified Curse Wave slammed into the Cursed Gicheonseok—

Crack—!

Without a single physical blow, a fissure split across the stone. Something that would originally have taken tens of millions of hits — half a day of smashing alongside the crows — was finished in barely a minute.

······ They're exploiting the Baal Helmet's penetration effect.

Fixed damage through penetration. They were amplifying the curse to maximize that ten percent penetrating effect. The Cursed Gicheonseok defended against nearly all damage as if immune — but fixed damage from penetration was something it simply could not block.

Smart little bastards.

I never expected them to use the effects of my Baal Helmet. For an immediate response to "destroy them efficiently," it was flawless. It had been a little startling at first, but this was an outstanding Corpse Crow legion.

Taking amplified curses bare-bodied isn't exactly pleasant, though.

Even so, at this pace I could smash every Cursed Gicheonseok in the temple within a day or two.

This temple alone has over a hundred of them.

Why prepare this many Cursed Gicheonseok? A temple built by Baal himself. There had to be a reason.

It feels like something is sealed inside this temple.

More than a hundred Cursed Gicheonseok — stones that would take ages to destroy — laid throughout a single temple. If they were for a seal, I couldn't even begin to imagine what could possibly require that level of preparation.