Chapter 47
Chapter 47
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: The Hand Collector
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The Unified War.
Back in the days when he was known as the infamous Hand Collector for severing the hands of his fallen foes.
Baomet had claimed the hands of countless knights.
"This is the punishment for the hand that dared raise a sword against the Valtaron Empire."
He lived by those words.
To him, it was a ritual of sorts.
Some denounced it as barbaric.
But in Baomet's eyes, it was more merciful than taking a life.
The hands he collected were simply preserved indefinitely through magic.
Trophies were what fueled motivation, after all.
Then one day.
During another routine punishment of those who rebelled against Valtaron.
He appeared.
The Sword Saint of the Arhan Kingdom.
Havel Banpellyon.
Baomet scoffed at first.
How dare this fool point his sword at the Valtaron Empire.
He planned to teach him a lesson about reality and claim his hand.
But things didn't go as Baomet intended.
"You're the hand collector, huh."
Baomet's Valtaron forces were shattered before Havel's sword.
He was strong.
Every time dawn shimmered along his blade, the army staggered.
And his Dawn Knights grew fiercer as that dawn light gleamed brighter.
In the end, Baomet was crushed by Havel.
"You annoying bastard, now it's your turn to feel the same."
Even the Dawn Knights had suffered at Baomet's hands.
So without hesitation, Havel severed both of Baomet's hands.
"Gaaahhhh!"
Baomet screamed amid the gushing blood from his severed wrists.
Havel ignored the cries, picked up the hands, and tossed them into the river.
Then he left Baomet there and marched on the Valtaron Empire.
Baomet fell into shock and despair at the loss of his hands.
And he harbored a burning grudge against the name Havel Banpellyon.
A man he must one day punish by severing his hands.
Those were the days he swallowed that vow deep within.
Then he received the revelation from the Whisperer.
And even his hands—cleverly severed in a way no priest could heal—were restored.
His punishments were no longer for the fallen Valtaron Empire.
They began solely for the Whisperer.
And today.
He faced the one who deserved punishment most once again.
"You think that'll be enough?"
Baomet's staff struck down over his hand.
In that instant, new hands sprouted once more.
Sixteen hands now filled the battlefield.
Each one massive as a mountain.
He had become a monster composed entirely of hands.
Havel looked tiny beneath them.
But every time dawn extended from him.
Baomet's arms were torn apart.
Baomet's brow furrowed.
Following the Whisperer's command, Baomet had entered the Calamity.
'Titan Citadel.'
The Calamity known as Titan Citadel in the southern region.
A fortress from which endless giant Calamity spawn poured out.
Baomet had finally slain the Titan King and absorbed its Calamity that day.
Transcending humanity, he became a transcendent being.
He wielded the Titan Citadel's Calamity at will.
He had reached an entirely new realm.
The pinnacle pursued by those with aura: Manifestation.
The realm where one's past life manifests into reality.
This Manifestation transcended masters, far beyond human limits.
As a result, he became one of the Whisperer's six serpents.
The six serpents bearing Calamities.
Each one a monster that astonished the world.
Baomet was certain.
Now even that hated Havel could be slain by his own hands.
But Havel never returned from the Demonic Palace.
He regretted not reclaiming his hand.
Still, Baomet lived faithfully as the Whisperer's apostle.
'One regret was the Calamity.'
Even as a transcendent beyond human, the total Calamity capacity had limits.
Baomet could hold no more.
His limit was becoming the lord of Titan Citadel.
He could go no further.
He knew he couldn't grow stronger here.
Instead, he chose to rejoice.
He had reached the peak, with no walls left to break.
But why?
Even after becoming this strong.
'Why can't I be certain I can defeat that bastard?'
The seventh hand caused an earthquake.
The twelfth hand cleaved the sky.
The sixteenth hand scattered darkness.
Yet every time Havel's sword moved between his hands.
Severed hands fell to the ground.
It resembled the moment long ago when Baomet's own hands fell.
Baomet's eyes darted frantically.
The moment he took his eyes off Havel, he'd be right in front of him.
Veins bulged in Baomet's eyes.
'I know he cleared the Demonic Palace!'
Havel being here meant he had cleared the Demonic Palace too.
Meaning he too had become its lord.
The Primordial Three Calamities: Demonic Palace.
The place where ancient heroes entered and never returned.
The Primordial Three Calamities were bizarre Calamities.
Their difficulty varied wildly depending on the entrant.
So Havel's Demonic Palace must have been pure hell.
There, Havel must have devoured the Demonic Palace's Calamity in abundance.
But Havel and he had a clear difference.
'I have His guidance.'
Baomet was the Whisperer's apostle.
After becoming Titan Citadel's lord, he hit his limit.
But with the Whisperer, it was different.
The Whisperer's apostles could receive His grace.
That grace doubled, tripled the Calamity's efficiency.
Proof: a serpent emblem glowed red on his hand.
Evidence of the grace being bestowed.
Blood vessels burst on his forehead.
Dizziness hit from overusing Calamity due to the grace.
Baomet's onslaught exploded fiercer.
Yet Havel showed no sign of slowing.
'He's a Calamity lord like me. He must have hit his human limit too.'
Unlike him, Havel had no grace.
Havel fought only with his own Calamity.
Yet he blocked Baomet's attacks effortlessly.
Not a hint of fatigue in those blue eyes.
This should have been a situation where graced Baomet dominated.
Yet every time Havel approached, Baomet felt unease and pressure.
The other serpents weren't like this.
They too had absorbed only one Calamity, like him.
'Could the gap between the Primordial Three Calamities and Titan Citadel's Calamity be this vast?'
Even with grace, he felt lacking?
-One Arm Obliterated
Dawn Blade Strikes
Another arm flew off from Havel's sword.
Every glimpse of that dawn light recalled that day, making Baomet tremble with rage.
"Hey."
Havel's voice echoed then.
He asked Baomet with an irritated expression.
"Got anything else?"
Anyone could see Havel was disappointed.
Seeing that, Baomet's eyes widened in fury.
"Ha, haha."
A mad laugh escaped him as blood trickled from his nose.
His pupils reddened, the serpent emblem spewing heat.
Heat intense enough to cook his skin.
Meaning he had borrowed grace beyond limits.
Serpent Emblem: Overheat
Body Strain Critical
Calamity poured from Baomet's entire body.
Space warped around him like condensing darkness.
Tens of thousands of arms erupted from beneath his feet, blanketing the sky.
Defying the saying that one cannot block the sun with hands.
He blotted out the sun and sky with hands.
And when those hands halted above.
Baomet-Style Manifestation Lv. Max
Punishment · Repentance
With that, hands covered the sky.
-Skyfall Hands
Earth Remade
The deluge of hands slammed down in unison.
As if the heavens themselves collapsed.
With every descending hand, the earth transformed.
Only massive palm prints remained.
Not a speck of dust lingered.
Moebius, watching from afar—the sole witness—was horrified.
This was no human catastrophe.
The forest vanished, leaving palm-scarred earth.
Like a god's decree of annihilation: nothing remained.
It's over.
Baomet was certain in that moment.
"Kuhk!"
Then Baomet spat blood.
His body wrecked from overusing the Whisperer's grace.
Yet a grotesque smile twisted his lips.
No dawn had ever gleamed from within his hands.
Meaning Havel couldn't respond.
Dead.
The bastard was dead.
Joy filled Baomet's eyes—
"One thing's clear."
A dust wind blew.
Through it, one figure walked slowly.
"You failed to transcend."
At that voice, Baomet's eyes shook violently.
He gaped blankly.
Beneath the vanishing hands.
Havel stood unscathed, clothes merely torn.
"And."
Havel turned to gaze at the sky.
In the recent clash, he'd realized something.
'The Whisperer doesn't know what form this guy takes in my eyes.'
Havel eyed the text before him.
'Whisperer' shows greed toward you.'Whisperer' bestows grace upon its apostle.
'Whisperer' bestows excessive grace upon its apostle.
He'd seen the grace notifications on Baomet the whole time.
Havel had thought the Whisperer showed them deliberately.
But not now.
The Whisperer didn't know his actions were visible to Havel.
Otherwise, he wouldn't output such messages.
Meaning.
'This must be the Demonic Palace's power informing me.'
The moment an extraordinary being intervened.
The Demonic Palace within him notified in the clearest way.
That's how Havel interpreted the text.
"Learned something good."
He'd thought they were shown on purpose until now.
Bonus: he'd severed the serpents' interest.
They couldn't touch him without transcending.
Baomet's full power hadn't breached him.
"Finish it."
Havel raised his sword.
Perhaps from the prolonged fight with Baomet.
+ New Realm Achieved
+ Power Overflows
Strength had finally transcended.
The newly transcended form: Destruction.
What a stubborn name.
But Havel felt it keenly, matching the name.
A rampaging power threatening to burst his body.
Havel raised his sword.
Instead of dawn, he poured pure power into it.
Baomet's dazed eyes met Havel's blade.
Glimpsing that abyss of power, his face drained white.
And that was the end.
The descending sword.
Obliterated everything Baomet had brought down all day.