Chapter 187

Chapter 187
## Chapter 187

The Imperial Palace (1)

“Ah, haha. Wow— This feels bizarre, doesn’t it? I must have really pushed myself past the limit. Not only am I imagining voices, but my tongue has completely stopped working too? A trip to the medical clinic is definitely in order. How much cash do I have left on me? Wait, with the powers I have now, I can stack up money whenever I want, so it’s irrelevant.”

A torrent of random reflections raced through Andrew’s mind as his severely augmented cognitive faculties, driven into overdrive by his unique skill, spun out of control.

He simply refused to acknowledge the grim circumstances staring him in the face, desperately scrambling to reject the truth and divert his thoughts elsewhere…

[So, this place is America? In the west… California.]

Yet the echoing tone that kept vibrating inside his head made it utterly impossible to block out what was happening.

“No, how is this possible? Why on earth is the Immortal King standing here?! What kind of nightmare is this? This can’t be real. How did that terrifying entity from Auterica manage to cross over to Earth?!”

The subsequent phase was pure indignation.

He felt a deep fury, though deciphering the Immortal King’s exact identity and how he managed to manifest on Earth wasn’t the most pressing problem at this very second.

Even if he uncovered the answers, his current predicament remained unchanged.

“Please… I endured so much agony! I truly believed I was finally going to get a quiet, normal existence, and then this strikes? You could have at least granted me a bit of time…!”

The next transition was bargaining.

It was his final, desperate struggle, a silent plea while fully recognizing he was entirely powerless to alter the trajectory.

[Alright then— Andrew Weber, here is your initial task. Straighten up everything around here and catch a flight to Korea immediately. I will arrange for an escort to meet you upon your arrival.]

“Ah.”

A quiet gasp slipped past Andrew’s lips as the pressure constricting his throat lifted, restoring his ability to speak.

However, he had already sunk into a profound melancholy, meaning such a small relief barely registered to him now.

“…Honestly, it beats being under the thumb of that spectral nightmare, Olivia. Korea isn’t some destitute wasteland. If I can get my hands on pizza, soda, and just watch some television… that will suffice.”

Ultimately arriving at the point of resignation, he gave a slow, vacant nod, his face entirely devoid of animation.

“Understood… I shall carry out your orders, Immortal King.”

When he looked at it differently, he was now answering directly to the perpetually occupied Immortal King, meaning his daily tasks likely wouldn’t be nearly as brutal as they were under his previous, overbearing boss.

Furthermore, when weighed against the suffocating dark sorcery and necrotic vapor radiating from the hordes of walking corpses, the urban pollution of the city felt practically like a breath of fresh air.

“Come to think of it, this might actually be an upgrade. If the working conditions turn around… serving a powerhouse of this caliber is a smart move. I might even catch a few windfalls along the way.”

As the bleak thoughts began to recede following that intense emotional rollercoaster, the optimistic delusions buried deep in his psyche started firing on all cylinders.

And while Andrew Weber down in the United States was processing his internal transformation through the classic stages of grief,

[Heh, heh— I anticipated this day would arrive eventually, though it materialized far quicker than my calculations suggested. Plus, securing the coordinates for America is a massive bonus. It will shave off a lot of logistics down the road.]

Hans, currently positioned in Japan, gave a slow nod of approval, observing Salma efficiently gathering the harvest of the fallen while keeping the surrounding containment boundary perfectly intact.

Rumble—!

“Eek!”

“Curse it! What is this shadow energy? How can it move that fast… Argh!”

It took a mere half hour to completely annihilate a Yakuza syndicate, an outfit that boasted a handful of remarkably competent awakened combatants among their ranks.

The lethal combination of Salma’s martial prowess and the shadow forces of the abyss yielded astonishingly potent results, delivering a highly gratifying outcome.

To a viewer, the warrior seemed barely distinguishable from the prowess he displayed during his natural life.

“Just as I suspected, Salma’s core capability relied on physical martial forms, meaning the loss of his unique skill doesn’t hobble him severely. Besides, he still commands a few secondary traits.”

Regrettably, the intrinsic capabilities bestowed upon a person during their awakening evaporated the moment the host perished, leaving them completely inaccessible to the undead thralls.

It was a depressing reality, particularly given that the vast majority of awakened individuals leaned heavily on those specific powers to survive.

Regardless, the trial run featuring Salma, the martial arts-wielding Abyss Revenant, proved to be an absolute triumph.

This data would enable the creation of far more streamlined assets in future iterations once the synthesis method was refined.

Hans turned his attention to the animated corpses beginning the cleanup operations, leisurely inspecting the obliterated terrain.

As the chaotic scene wound down to a close, his thoughts drifted back to Andrew.

“Utilizing his particular talent should make my operational mobility far smoother, shouldn’t it? I can simply hand his supervision over to Heterosis, saving me from tracking his movements personally.”

Naturally, it would be mandatory to tighten the spiritual bindings on the man, given that he had stumbled upon a truth that absolutely had to remain buried.

The man likely couldn’t even fathom the grandest deception of all—his master’s actual identity—but merely discovering that the figure known as Hahoe Mask possessed the capability to breach the divide between Earth and the alternate realm was an incredibly dangerous piece of intel.

“Now that I think about it, if he is going to be gathering intelligence for me within Korea, I need to ensure he masters the local tongue.”

Their mental dialogue moments ago functioned flawlessly because it was a simple matter of projecting his consciousness through the magical binding, but the man’s capacity to collect valuable data would be severely bottlenecked if he remained oblivious to the native dialogue.

Observing or overhearing critical events meant absolutely nothing if the words spoken were completely incomprehensible.

Furthermore, he would eventually need to acquire fluency in multiple foreign tongues, including Japanese and Chinese, since his utility wouldn’t be restricted to Korean territory alone…

“…I ought to investigate whether there is an enchanted artifact capable of bridging linguistic divides. Even if such an item is missing from Auterica, it doesn’t rule out its existence within alternate dimensions. Mind you, it must be exceptionally scarce, seeing as I have never encountered a rumor about one.”

Still, with enough diligent searching, such an item would likely surface eventually.

Until that moment arrived, Andrew would simply have to master the dialects the old-fashioned way.

Needless to say, Hans suffered no pangs of conscience regarding the grueling study regimen he was about to impose.

The man was receiving high-level language tutoring completely free of charge—an education others drained their savings to acquire—and he would emerge from it as a highly capable multilingual asset, so he really ought to show some gratitude!

At that exact moment, the daunting shadow of intensive K-education loomed over Andrew’s dreams of a relaxed future, entirely without his awareness.

—

“…An individual from another world…”

Geos Calkin, who had been meticulously polishing his bladed weapon within the confines of his quarters, abruptly paused his movements and spoke the words aloud.

The bizarre revelations dropped by that eccentric figure, Hesperon, refused to leave his thoughts.

“The man didn’t give off the impression of a storyteller spinning fabrications… Could there actually be truth to it?”

Weighing the various elements at play, the odds that the man was merely spouting wild delusions felt incredibly slim.

In truth, the general demeanor among the high-ranking circles suggested that a fair number of individuals were already privy to some hidden reality.

And if that held true…

“To think I brushed it off as mere fantasy, only to find out it was fact all along?”

This realization, however, didn’t pertain to Hesperon.

It pointed to an era much further back, a distant chapter of his past—.

An identical claim had been spoken to him long ago by someone else who asserted they hailed from a different reality altogether.

That individual was his closest companion, his guide, and the master who had passed down the mastery of this very spear and its hidden arts.

The memory of that mentor completely consumed his mind.

“…I need to make a journey to visit him at some point, if only to confirm my suspicions. If this checks out, I might glean a vital hint regarding the nature of Hesperon’s strange capabilities. Perhaps I should raise the topic once the Saint makes his appearance?”

Completing the maintenance on his polearm, he stepped toward the windowpane, casting his eyes across the exterior landscape.

The view didn’t encompass the entirety of the urban sprawl from his vantage point, yet the slice of Rohan visible to him was more than enough to paint a clear picture of their dire circumstances.

Battalions of infantry marched with frantic urgency, bristling with weaponry, while displaced citizens clustered along the grime-covered pathways like discarded refuse.

He searched the expressions of the populace in vain for even a flicker of optimism.

Anarchy, hopelessness, misery, bitterness, and passive surrender…

Those oppressive sentiments blanketed the atmosphere of what had once been a magnificent capital city, where every resident was caught in a brutal, daily scramble just to see the next morning.

“…Immortal King Hans.”

The entirety of this devastation traced directly back to a single entity.

Beyond the visible suffering of these crowds, a nameless multitude was enduring agonies and perishing in corners unseen by the world.

“This is no moment to harbor hesitation or doubts. The smartest course of action is to neutralize him with the utmost speed, before his malice spreads any further.”

Right as Geos was forging his internal determination anew, his eyes caught sight of a husband and wife tightly embracing a dust-covered youngster in the recess of a side street.

They were a family marked by hollow cheeks and obvious deprivation, yet he found himself transfixed by the image of them huddled tightly together, drawing strength entirely from one another.

“Sigh—”

He watched the trio for a brief spell before averting his gaze, letting loose a heavy exhalation.

He simply lacked the emotional bandwidth to pity every single soul drowning in adversity during these cataclysmic times.

Nor did he possess the power to safeguard their lives, considering his current status was nothing more than that of a solitary warrior wielding a spear.

“The solitary path left open to me… is vengeance.”

His sole remaining purpose was to direct the weapon that gave form to their collective fury and heartbreak.

He could only pray that his strike would find its mark, tearing straight through the chest of the Immortal King.

—

The champion’s vanguard found themselves with very little business to conduct within the Rohan Duchy to begin with.

When it came down to it, their deployment to this sector was strictly a extraction operation meant to retrieve the royal heir along with Hesperon. Now that their objectives had been successfully collected, stretching out their residency served no real function.

Granted, their brief intervention provided a massive boost to the localized defensive lines given that every member was an elite combat asset, but heroes of their caliber couldn’t remain anchored to a frontier outpost indefinitely.

A multitude of hot zones required their presence, and this specific theater of war demanded massive troop formations rather than a handful of exceptionally gifted masters.

Consequently, the expanded entourage departed for their next theater of operations after spending a handful of days resting within Rohan.

Because the magical portal situated at the desecrated sanctuary remained non-functional, the location they materialized in via Isea’s high-tier translocation sorcery was—.

“Ah…!”

Princess Riley let out a quiet breath of astonishment.

The reaction was entirely instinctive.

The panorama manifesting before her eyes—the staggering, majestic proportions of the architecture—was a setting she recognized instantly.

“…At long last.”

Stretching out before her was the sovereign estate located in Jeron, the heart of the Azeria Empire. It was her rightful home, a sanctuary she was finally stepping back into after an absence spanning nearly two months.

“The protocol changes dramatically the moment a royal heir is involved. Normally, activating translocation coordinates within the perimeter fortifications is strictly forbidden unless an absolute crisis occurs. To think the administration granted us direct clearance into the sovereign quarters proper…”

Isea, whose features bore signs of deep exhaustion from the immense strain of shifting a larger party across vast distances, offered a nod of deep appreciation.

To be fair, even though they had bypassed the secondary defenses, the specialized chamber housing the active teleportation circle sat on the periphery of the estate, serving as a lockdown sector nestled right alongside the central garrison of the Imperial Guard…

Even so, given that high-born royals typically had to submit to rigorous verification protocols and clear the exterior gates under normal conditions, the privileges extended to them today were unmistakably grand.

“Well, such accommodations are only fitting when traveling in the company of the Saint.”

Though he was currently occupied orchestrating maneuvers across the primary combat zones at the helm of the ‘Anti-Immortal King Special Mobile Strike Force’, the holy figurehead of the Main God Church possessed immense geopolitical leverage, commanding enough status to converse as an equal with the sovereign ruler of the Empire himself.

It was a stroke of luck that Heinrich had previously voiced his desire to bypass any extravagant welcoming displays, otherwise they would have been thrust into a grand, state-level festival of honor the second their boots touched the floor.

“Allow us to guide you through the residence corridors. This way, please.”

Yet the moment they fell in behind the sentries assigned to escort them out of the secure sector,

A assembly of figures, looking as though they had been keeping a tireless vigil for this exact window of opportunity, descended upon the group like predators closing in on a fresh target.

“Princess Riley! We rejoice at your safe arrival. You have endured such an unthinkable ordeal.”

“Oh! Exalted Saint, our eternal appreciation for delivering our cherished princess from danger! This stands as an undeniable manifestation of the Main God’s benevolence.”

“Ahem, Viscount Pristine? I am Viscount Malaf. There is a matter of critical importance I must bring to your attention…”

“Clear the path, if you please! These dignitaries have survived a grueling trek. Step back!”

A crowd of aristocrats, outfitted in extravagantly tailored silks and wearing transparently sycophantic grins, swarmed forward.

Their underlying motives were so completely transparent that attempting to look past them was an exercise in futility.

“There is a heavy turnout from rival factions here, not just the princess’s traditional supporters. Wait, look at that individual over there—isn’t he firmly aligned with the Crown Prince’s camp?”

The courtiers who had historically backed the Fifth Princess were radiating pure ecstasy as they showered her with praise, while those belonging to opposing networks were aggressively pitching their own merits, desperate for an opening to switch allegiances.

True to form for individuals who viewed political maneuvering as basic sustenance, they had instantly calculated the shifting tides of power and adjusted their behavior accordingly.

“My gratitude to you all. It is entirely due to your collective thoughts and prayers that I have made it back unharmed. Count Solain, you look remarkably gaunt. Please do not neglect your personal well-being, regardless of the demands of your office.”

“Sleep completely eluded me out of sheer terror for Your Highness’s welfare. Seeing you returned to us in perfect health fills my heart with joy. Hehehe!”

“Count Pianon? Two full years have slipped by, how have you been faring?”

“Ahem, quite well, naturally. I happened to be residing in the capital when the joyous tidings of the princess’s safe retrieval reached my ears, so I felt absolutely compelled to offer my personal respects…”

Riley managed the chaotic crowd with consummate elegance, her expression radiating a cool, detached dignity that contrasted sharply with her private behavior.

It was a complex web of court intrigue greeting her the very second she stepped across the threshold, yet she found herself welcoming the familiar dance; she had been forced to abandon her ambitions for two long months, trapped in a state of constant survival anxiety.

“To think I would actually find myself longing for the cutthroat power plays of the imperial court, which used to drain my patience so entirely.”

Amused by her own internal monologue, Riley maintained an amused irony in her thoughts while continuing her march toward the inner chambers alongside her allies, keeping the flock of eager sycophants perfectly at bay.

This was the grand arena where she had waged war her entire life.

It was finally time to jump back into her true conflict, which had merely been frozen by a brief intermission.