Chapter 99
Chapter 99
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 99
Chapter Title: Chapter 32. Pharaoh (1)
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1.
“I am Hilla, commander of the great Black Mage. I have come here under her orders.”
What El Pam uttered was an absurd statement.
Rather than feeling perplexed the moment they heard it, it was simply incomprehensible.
“What do you mean?”
Thus, Rick's reaction was utterly ordinary and natural.
And the moment he saw that reaction, El Pam smiled faintly to himself.
‘It worked.’
That reaction was proof that El Pam's intention and scheme had landed perfectly on Rick.
It was no illusion.
El Pam knew.
‘Since he didn't attack right away.’
That Rick had already finished casting his spell and was primed to strike El Pam.
That he was targeting the exact moment El Pam finished speaking.
Yet Rick did not.
“Could you say that again? I must have misheard.”
Instead of attacking, he posed a question.
To that question, El Pam replied.
“I know.”
El Pam was well aware of the Black Mage's followers.
“Rick, I know that you serve Lord Will.”
The commanders who led the Black Mage's followers—one of them being a man named Will—and that Rick followed him.
‘Cheryl told me everything.’
He had learned the full organizational structure from Cheryl herself, a Cross Hunter executive.
That was why.
‘That Hilla, one of the commanders, has almost no contact with the others.’
That was also why El Pam had named Hilla here.
It paid off.
At this moment, El Pam's gambit succeeded.
‘A follower of Lady Hilla?’
Rick believed El Pam's words.
Of course, it wasn't simply because El Pam had said them.
‘It all makes sense now.’
Rick had heard.
‘About El Pam's party's titles.’
The adventures El Pam's party had undertaken up to now.
Frankly, El Pam's party's titles were the sort you couldn't believe just from hearing them.
In truth, most people refused to accept El Pam's party's record.
They assumed it was a scam, trickery, or outright lies.
Rick had been no different.
At first, he hadn't believed those titles. He figured there had to be some ridiculous mistake or misunderstanding.
‘So he was one of Lady Hilla's hidden assets.’
But the instant Hilla—that commander's—name came up, it all became credible.
Around then.
El Pam displayed the back of his left hand, then lightly rubbed it.
A concealed tattoo emerged.
A hunting hound tattoo.
Unmistakable proof.
Hilla's symbol was a dog, and she bestowed that hunting hound tattoo on those she valued most.
Naturally, few knew of its existence.
Rick himself had seen it only once.
At that point, Rick dropped the pretense.
“I am Rick, follower of Lord Will.”
A faint smile played on his lips, but his voice was utterly frigid as he revealed his true colors.
Then he asked.
“I've heard that Lady Hilla's hunting hounds never reveal their identities, even in death. Why show yours now?”
“If I didn't, you'd come after me, Rick. I know that much. I know you're here on Queen Areda's orders. And that she's furious with me.”
“Avoiding death—that's why you revealed it?”
“My target is the Cross Hunter leader, Gerector.”
Rick posed no further questions at that explanation.
He understood.
Why El Pam had sided with the Cross Hunters all this time, thwarting the Black Mage's followers at every turn.
It was to earn their trust, then strike at their most vital figure.
‘Hiding one's identity for betrayal isn't just my game.’
Rick was doing the exact same.
‘After all, I'm the bomb that Will poured his heart into crafting: Brain Emperor Rick.’
Rick, follower of one of the commanders—Will—had risen to fame as an adventurer. Later, he orchestrated a massacre of 100,000 adventurers in a single blow, a monumental feat for the Black Mage's followers.
In other words, Rick was an asset of that caliber.
One that Commander Will had meticulously nurtured for a critical moment.
El Pam knew something else, too.
‘He won't trust me blindly.’
The personality of Brain Emperor Rick.
Above all, El Pam knew.
‘The Black Mage's commanders aren't on good terms.’
Each of the Black Mage's commanders pursued their own agendas, with virtually no interaction among them.
Far from mere distance—they clashed endlessly.
‘He's suspicious by nature.’
And rightly so. The Black Mage's commanders suspected a traitor in their midst.
‘Especially after the Black Mage's sealing.’
Otherwise, a being as transcendent as the Black Mage could never have been sealed by mere heroes—six of them, no less.
Thus, the commanders drilled it into their subordinates.
‘Trust no one but me—that's how they were trained.’
Only I am right.
Disregard anyone who approaches as a comrade or ally.
If they obstruct the plan, kill them.
Words to that effect.
‘Brain Emperor Rick, especially.’
Rick was a machine of an adventurer.
A machine that would do anything for the mission.
Even now.
Rick would accept El Pam's words. He wouldn't question the evidence presented or the circumstantial clues.
‘But no reason to ally with me.’
That alone gave Rick no cause to heed El Pam's tale.
“I need to survive. Survive to see this through.”
Hence.
“So I'll make you a proposal, Rick.”
El Pam produced a ring.
“Promise to aid me in this mission, and this ring is yours.”
Zeus's ring.
2.
Deep within the secret passage of the Mysterious Pyramid.
When Rick's party arrived, Pir—who had been waiting—narrowed his eyes.
Tension rippled through the air.
It was inevitable.
‘El Pam and Rick had a conversation.’
Pir couldn't have missed that the two had met and spoken in secret.
Naturally, a clandestine meeting like that wasn't for exchanging compliments or encouragement.
And cases like this weren't unheard of.
Quite the opposite—veteran adventurers often had such talks on the eve of a Mystic Gate raid.
‘A struggle for control?’
A bid to claim dominance inside the Mystic Gate.
It was a crucial matter.
Skill aside, every adventurer had their own style.
For ones like El Pam or Pir, that style was pride itself—non-negotiable.
‘Rick's party showing up means El Pam...’
It wouldn't be odd if El Pam's party bowed out here.
Then.
“Sorry we're late.”
El Pam's party followed right after, and only then did Pir's expression ease.
The feared scenario hadn't come to pass.
To all the assembled adventurers, Pir declared.
“From here on, follow my footprints exactly.”
No one cracked a smile.
They knew better.
Fail to step precisely where Pir had, and the countless traps would claim your life.
The adventurers gathered here were seasoned enough to grasp that much.
Thus, no mishaps.
Step. Step.
Without exception or lapse, they traced Pir's footprints to the letter—and soon arrived.
“Here.”
Inside a sealed chamber roughly 300 pyeong in size.
Undoubtedly someone's tomb.
Yet no sarcophagus.
“That.”
In its place, a lone Mystic Gate.
The instant Pir touched it, a yellow portal materialized.
“Order?”
“We'll go first.”
Rick's party moved first toward the portal.
The meaning was clear.
Rick's party was the strongest among them.
From now on, they would dictate the adventuring approach inside that Mystic Gate.
Order established.
Rick, now leading that order, plunged through the Mystic Gate without hesitation.
Everyone else followed suit, and soon they beheld.
“Wasteland?”
A barren expanse where not a single tree dotted the horizon.
“There!”
Grrr!
Monsters slinking toward them across the wastes.
“Dogs wrapped in bandages?”
“Mummy Dogs!”
The monsters were Mummy Dogs—canines swathed head to toe in bandages like mummies.
Every adventurer's face hardened at the sight.
“Goddamn it.”
Dibo cursed outright.
It couldn't be helped.
“Straight out the gate with these bastards. Mummy Dogs mean we smash the magic stones, right?”
Mummy Dog.
True to its undead nature, smashing the body alone wouldn't kill it.
The magic stone had to be destroyed.
Hence, the problem with Mummy Dogs.
“Watch yourselves! A Mummy Dog's body is worlds apart from a Skel Dog's!”
Skel Dogs—similar monsters—were mere bones, with pitiful physical defense.
Mummy Dogs? Bandages cloaked withered flesh beneath.
A massive gap.
Like chopping a mere tree branch versus one slathered in clay and wrapped in bandages.
“Don't drag out melee either! Their bodies carry corpse toxin from decayed flesh!”
Worse, Mummy Dogs harbored poison.
Troublesome all around.
“Here.”
The Adventurers' Association's strategy for Mummy Dogs read thus:
Melee and physical attacks are tough against them—mages take the stage.
“The mages move...!”
The moment Pir voiced that conclusion.
“Thunderbolt.”
Lightning crashed down on the charging Mummy Dog pack alongside the incantation.
Every adventurer froze at the spell's utterance.
‘Insane!’
No adventurer was ignorant of Thunderbolt's risks.
Some hit the dirt; others ditched weapons that might draw the strike.
Thinking:
‘Who the hell's that lunatic!’
Chaos unfolded in their minds.
But the pandemonium they envisioned never materialized.
Crackle!
Instead, they witnessed.
Kekeke!
The impossible: Thunderbolt homing in solely on the Mummy Dogs.
“Rick!”
Lightning Master Rick, architect of the spectacle.
Shock rippled through the group.
“How?”
El Pam's party was hit hardest.
“Boss! That—that's?”
Dibo gaped at El Pam.
It had to be.
“Isn't that your signature move? Only you can do that!”
That absurd display was El Pam's patented technique.
How was Rick pulling it off?
El Pam answered the question.
“Gave him Zeus's Ring.”
“What?”
Dibo and the rest stared at El Pam, dumbfounded by the terse reply.
Hand over an item like that?
“So now his lightning magic outshines mine by miles.”
They were speechless at the follow-up.
He'd armed a rival with game-changing power—like strapping wings on a tiger's back.
“No, Boss!”
Dibo finally burst out.
“What now?”
El Pam replied.
“Nothing.”
“Huh?”
“Exactly that. In this Mystic Gate, we do nothing.”
“Boss, what the...”
El Pam turned.
Crackle!
Watching Rick sweep the field like a force of nature, he said.
“We just watch.”