Chapter 112

Chapter 112
## Chapter 112: The Unveiling of the Sincere Self

Escape was a physical impossibility.

The elite warriors of the Darkan lands had completely sealed every exit of the grand hall. Every single guard present possessed a level of power that far outstripped his own.

‘I cannot allow any trail to lead back to Lord Randolph.’

Hudson knew that even if his life ended here, he had to sever any perceived tie to Randolph. He had been the recipient of boundless grace from the man—favors so profound that a lifetime of service could never truly balance the scales. He had pledged his absolute fealty and heart to him; to bring ruin upon his lord because of his own failings was a thought he couldn’t endure.

More than anything, there was the matter of Serengeti’s salvation.

‘This physical world holds no gravity for me.’

To Hudson, the “real” world was a hollow shell. If he could ensure Serengeti’s safety, his own existence—which he viewed as largely inconsequential—would finally possess a scrap of worth. Back on Earth, living as Oliver, he had done nothing but survive, drifting through a grey and monotonous cycle.

Pangeniar, however, was a vibrant masterpiece. It offered him high stakes, genuine affection, and brothers-in-arms. He had stood witness to wonders that defied logic time and again. He had walked in the shadow of a man who shattered the ceiling of possibility and climbed toward the heavens. That legendary figure had not only brought him back to Serengeti and facilitated their reunion but had mended a broken spirit that everyone else had deemed beyond repair.

A single beam of radiance had cut through the gloom of his life. That was more than enough for him. Just having experienced that hope made him feel whole.

—*Hudson. When we return from this mission, we will find a way to fully restore Serengeti.*

‘……I am deeply sorry.’

‘This is the end of my road, but I pray you continue your ascent to the peak, my Lord.’

‘Phantom, my beacon.’

‘My solitary light.’

‘Please… watch over Pangeniar.’

This realm had offered a sanctuary to a man exhausted by the rigors of Earth. It was the only place where he felt he could truly move, breathe, and give his heart away.

‘To the others, Pangeniar was just a digital playground—a simulation.’

That sentiment extended to the players as well. Even with the stakes of “death in the game equals death in reality,” their souls were still tethered to Earth. They lacked gravity. They lacked stakes. This was exactly why Hudson had remained an outsider among his own kind, choosing a solitary path. The gulf between his perspective and theirs was a canyon that couldn’t be bridged. They treated this world as something to be exploited, mocked, or torn apart for sport. He could never find common ground with people like that.

But Randolph was different.

‘……In him, I finally found a kindred spirit.’

He remembered the Knight’s Garden, that solemn sanctuary in the heart of the Wyzer Marquisate. It was a place of remembrance for the warriors who vanished during the Great Expedition. Randolph had stood before those names and spoken a vow.

—*As the one who carries the legacy of the Knight King, I honor their noble sacrifice. For the sake of these irreplaceable spirits, I shall carry their memory within me forever.*

In that heartbeat, Hudson hadn’t seen a player; he had seen the reincarnation of Knight King Wilhelm. The words weren’t mere flavor text; they carried a weight of sincerity that vibrated in Hudson’s chest. It was an act no ordinary player would bother with. Even if they tried, it would be a hollow performance. But Randolph truly grieved for the fallen of Pangeniar. He was the first player Hudson had ever met who cherished this world as much as the natives did.

That moment had been transformative. Though many wonders followed, that specific image was seared into Hudson’s soul, a memory he intended to guard for all eternity. If Pangeniar had a future, it was tied to Randolph. He was the world’s only hope.

—*Think about it. A total reunion with Serengeti. When you two wed, I’ll be the one to marry you.*

—*……*

—*Visualize her in a wedding gown, walking toward you. It isn’t a dream. It’s going to happen soon.*

‘……She would be breathtaking.’

He felt it with every fiber of his being. The image of Serengeti in white began to dominate his thoughts. Why had Randolph spoken those words now? Was it to keep him from sliding into despair? No. Accepting such kindness now was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Hesitation would only heighten the suspicion that they were collaborators.

Hudson plunged his hand into the depths of the perforated oak cask. Immediately, a violent tremor raced through him, his very anatomy shifting and contorting in a painful display.

When his vision cleared and he looked down…

‘……What has happened?’

Hudson had taken the form of a woman.

—

I found myself momentarily robbed of breath.

Usually, when a man envisions a wedding, he sees himself at the altar in a formal suit, right? And even if his focus is entirely on the bride, he sees her in a flowing gown. So why was Hudson draped in heavy plating?

The White Knight.

Consistent with her legend, Hudson had morphed into the image of Serengeti, clad in her iconic, shimmering white plate.

—*Serengeti, the White Knight.*

It appeared Number One recognized the figure as well. And if he knew of her, he surely knew she was a child of Pangeniar—a native through and through. There was no way she could be mistaken for a player.

—*Hudson. It seems his devotion to her is absolute.*

That revelation caught me off guard. The Empire had clearly done their homework on the link between Serengeti and Hudson. Even I hadn’t confirmed their partnership until the very end of the Great Expedition, and that was from Serengeti’s own lips. It made sense now why they were so adamant about Hudson being a “sinner.”

‘If they know this much, they surely have a file on me—the self-proclaimed heir to Wilhelm.’

If they understood the depth of the bond between those two, I was certainly under their microscope. While I wasn’t sure if the Five Pillars were involved yet, they likely had a detailed profile on the man named Randolph.

‘The Empire plays a game of isolation, but their intelligence network is terrifying.’

They weren’t just closed off; they were observant. I realized I had to walk on eggshells, or I’d be swallowed whole.

A moment later, a crack appeared in Number One’s icy mask.

—*I must admit, I am stunned. I was convinced Hudson was one of the “sinners.”*

His usual composure had finally slipped.

—*And now? Do you still hold that conviction?*

—*Hmm. A player is incapable of such profound love for a native of this world. He…… is not a “sinner” after all.*

Number One gave a slow, thoughtful nod. He understood the nature of the supreme transformation potion. In a moment of crisis, a player would instinctively cling to their original Earthly identity. By becoming Serengeti, Hudson had proven that his heart belonged more to her than to his own existence. It was a display of genuine emotion, devoid of any irony or falsehood.

—*It looks like I’ve won our little wager.*

—*……Aren’t you even a bit curious? About why he took that shape, or why I’ve cleared him of suspicion?*

I knew the answer—it was the effect of the supreme potion. But I kept that to myself. I had to maintain the act of having puzzled it out through observation.

I let out a silent breath of relief. If my gamble had failed, the situation would have turned lethal. My chances of making it out alone were less than 2%; with Hudson in tow, they were non-existent. For now, I would continue to lean into my role as the unrefined warrior.

—*He isn’t a sinner.*

—*…………Indeed. Your intuition serves you well. “That” substance compels a person to manifest the image held most dear in their heart and mind. “Sinners” find their corruption exposed upon contact. Unless they value something or someone more than their own ego, they cannot achieve a perfect metamorphosis into another.*

Hudson had placed Serengeti above himself. Thus, his transformation into her was the only possible outcome.

—*How long is he stuck like that?*

Hudson was clearly panicked, looking over his new form with a pale face. Number One simply shrugged.

—*It depends on the concentration of his contact with the powder. It isn’t a permanent shift; it will fade with time.*

—*That’s good to hear.*

—*Regardless, the bet is yours. I will grant you the three items from the auction you requested. Eventually.*

—*……Eventually?*

The man was as slippery as an eel. I gave him a hard, suspicious look, but he just shook his head.

—*I’m not suggesting an indefinite delay. I keep my word. If you accompany me to the “main temple,” you can take possession of them immediately.*

—*The main temple? You mean the heart of the Reaper Church?*

—*Isn’t that your objective? As a “Guardian of the Golden Orthodox,” your presence at the upcoming “Banquet” is expected.*

The Reapers’ Banquet. The name echoed in the back of my mind. I remembered the Silver Fox Mask mentioning it during our time in the Abyssal Labyrinth.

‘In eighty-seven days, the Reaper Church holds its banquet.’

The problem had always been the location; the Church’s headquarters were a mystery. Now, Number One was offering me a direct map.

‘Entities like Hel are stationed there.’

He viewed me as a fellow Guardian. It was likely he possessed his own hidden realm, much like Hel. If he could warp through space at will, he could easily reside within a spatial fold.

—*Very well. Lead the way.*

There was no reason to decline. I needed the full Baal set to exert control over him. While I wanted it now, I couldn’t push too hard when the promise was on the table. Time was a luxury I didn’t have, but reckless haste would ruin the play.

‘The Reaper Church.’

This was a golden opportunity to peel back the layers of this organization. They were woven into the very fabric of the Empire, standing even above the high nobility. They were the true architects of power.

‘I tried to breach the Imperial Palace so many times in the past, only to fail at the gates. This time, I’m going in through the front door.’

I had burned through countless characters trying to infiltrate the heart of the Empire. I’d made it inside once, only to be cut down before reaching the inner sanctum. I had written it off as an impossible task. But with Hel’s presence and Number One’s mistaken belief in my status, the path was finally open.

—*Number 53. He is also a curiosity.*

I agreed. Number 53, the Master. Had he realized what was happening? He stepped toward the oak barrel and submerged his hand.

*Whoosh!*

The Master’s silhouette began to warp and shift.

—*Impressive!* Number One whispered in genuine awe.

—

With the initial “purification” over, the bidding resumed. Since I had secured the Baal armor as part of the wager, I focused my remaining 1.5 billion gold on high-tier treasures. By the end, I had walked away with roughly 4 billion gold worth of assets. My goal was simple.

‘I need to elevate the Throne of Light.’

I wanted it at least to the “Radiant” tier, if not higher. The Radiant version already offered invincibility frames. Entering the Reaper Church meant walking into a lion’s den where anything could happen.

‘If the Orthodox have powers like Hel, a standard escape plan is useless.’

Even my Teleport Book could be jammed by their spatial manipulation. I needed a guaranteed survival tool. Once the items were gathered, I looked at the mountain of wealth.

《Do you wish to sacrifice this equipment to upgrade the ‘Ominous Throne of Light’?》

The jump to the “Radiant” level had cost me 2 billion gold previously. With double that amount now, I was aiming for something legendary.

‘Let’s see what lies beyond.’

—

### Within the Imperial Palace

‘What am I supposed to do?’

Lady Dersian was a ghost of her former self. Her skin was sallow, and she was wracked by tremors. She hadn’t slept in days; her eyes were sunken pits of exhaustion, and her lips were cracked and bleeding. She was living in a waking nightmare.

‘More than twenty people have just…… disappeared.’

The auction had continued after the second day’s “cleansing,” but the crowd was thinning out. What started as a group of a hundred had dwindled to seventy-seven. It wasn’t just the guests; even established Imperial nobles were being taken. The idea of high-ranking nobility being labeled as “sinners” was terrifying.

‘This was a trap from the beginning. They only invited those they already suspected!’

She gnawed at her fingertips until they bled, barely noticing the metallic taste in her mouth. The Reaper Church was using the auction as a dragnet. But were they the only ones in on it?

‘No…… did my own family know? Did they send me here because they suspected me?’

She recalled the elders’ parting words: *Collaborate with Darkan. Prove your worth.* They had framed it as a vital mission, but in hindsight, it felt like an execution. Why send her, a contender in the family’s brutal line of succession, to such a volatile event? She had been sent with a single guard, while “that man” had been sent to Delphian with an army of five berserkers to hunt the Four Evils.

‘……He gets to be the conquering hero while I get branded a traitor and erased? Is that the plan?’

The realization hit her like a physical blow. Darkan and Dersian were supposed to be partners, but Lord Darkan clearly knew the Reapers were coming. He knew about the “cleansing.” She, the supposed co-host, had been kept in total darkness.

“Disinfection.” That was the church’s term for hunting sinners. No one was safe when that process started. They would lock down entire cities for as long as it took to purge the “sin.” If it took too long, the city would be abandoned or even swallowed by the Abyss. Even the nobles in the hall had been caught off guard.

‘I cannot be labeled a sinner.’

She huddled in a corner, shaking. Those executed by the Reapers didn’t just die; they were erased. Their history, their lineage, even the memories people held of them were scrubbed from existence. It was rare for high nobility, but it had happened. Entire houses had vanished from the records.

There was no safety to be found. The gates were shut, and the magical warps were disabled.

‘That barbarian……’

She thought of the savage warrior who had killed her guard. She had thought him a mere mercenary, but his proximity to Number One suggested something far more sinister.

‘Number One decides who is a sinner. And that barbarian is always by his side.’

The thought made her blood run cold. If that brute had any say in the matter, he would hunt her down for his own amusement. As a sinner, she would die in obscurity, a stain on the Dersian name that would be wiped away.

‘I apologized to him, though.’

She tried to find comfort in that, but it was cold. The memory of the confrontation at the restaurant and the subsequent kneeling in the castle felt like a lifetime ago. Had he sensed her resentment? Had he seen her apology for the forced performance it was?

“Ah…….”

Lady Dersian scrambled to her feet, her movements frantic. Her weakened body betrayed her, and she stumbled, her legs giving way as she tried to move. She had lost all her noble poise, but dignity meant nothing if she was about to be erased.