Chapter 151

Chapter 151
## Chapter: 151
Chapter Title: Lord Solbaren’s Bewilderment

The reason lies in the nature of a technique that pits nothing but “raw attributes” against one another.

The sheer quality woven into that blade-work dictates such a result.

It is a discipline that demands an existence of absolute, unadulterated purity.

And yet.

‘The flaws of this style are just as distinct as its advantages.’

The trade-off is balanced on a knife’s edge.

That individual cannot reap the rewards of auxiliary stat buffs while maintaining that specific stance.

It provides a supreme edge against an opponent like me, who functions through layers of accumulated enhancements, but its efficiency plummets when facing a disorganized horde of weaker foes.

That explains why he shifted forms to restrain our movement when the crowd first appeared.

‘More importantly, that blade-craft remains unfinished.’

He is walking the path toward mastery, but he hasn’t reached the destination.

An incomplete technique inherently possesses a vulnerability.

‘He isn’t invincible. However, he is a threat that must be snuffed out right here.’

Allowing him any more room to evolve would result in a monster beyond anyone’s shadow to contain.

If that swordsmanship ever reaches its zenith, even the grand designs of the Annihilator might be thrown into chaos.

Recognizing this, the Black Paladin threw every ounce of his being into a single gamble.

Whooooom!

The concentrated point of darkness expanded, fracturing into an infinite number of jagged shards.

It swelled to the limit, vibrating as if the very fabric of space were about to rupture.

《Activating ‘Black Point Explosion’.》

《The potency of ‘Black Point Explosion’ scales with the level of internal overload.》

《Detonating all holy-demonic energy and overload to trigger a localized annihilation.》

《User fatality rate: 100%.》

A technique of ultimate sacrifice.

Could there be any force more concentrated than the very essence of a soul being offered up?

The Black Paladin was certain. Not even that mysterious, nameless swordsmanship could deflect a strike fueled by a life’s end.

In fact, because he relied on that specific style, his fundamental defenses would be at their most brittle!

“Annihilator! I shall be at your side in a moment!”

In an instant, the dark spheres clinging to the Black Paladin’s frame ignited in a catastrophic release.

Kwaaaaaaaaang!

Deflecting this head-on is impossible.

That servant of the Annihilator managed to decipher the core mechanics of my combat style to a functional degree.

He moved with the conviction that I lacked the means to parry this, and thus, he chose to become a living bomb.

‘Where did such a fanatic even crawl out from?’

He was the first to actually pinpoint the fundamental source of the techniques Wilhelm used.

And his tactical intuition was correct.

That specific brand of self-immolation was precisely what Wilhelm’s defensive patterns were ill-equipped to handle.

Switching to ‘Shadowform’ would provide no sanctuary; it would merely accelerate the onset of my demise.

However, there was a variable the paladin had failed to account for.

《Activating sacrificial ability of ‘Demonblood Clan 2nd Swarm’.》

《Initiating ‘Blazing Blood Veil’.》

The sovereign authority of the ‘Demonblood Clan’s King’.

If he intends to counter me with a life-ending strike, I will simply meet it with a sacrifice of my own.

Roooar!

The 2nd Swarm.

Five hundred loyal demonblood minions detonated in a synchronized burst, showering the area in crimson ichor.

That spray of life-force coalesced instantly, weaving together to form a colossal, shimmering curtain of blood before me.

Ruuuuumble!

The shockwave from the dark explosion slammed into the sanguine barrier, causing the entire structure to shudder violently.

Yet, it held firm.

It appeared fragile, trembling as if it might disintegrate at any second, but the line remained unbroken.

‘This still isn’t quite enough.’

Even so, the scales aren’t perfectly balanced.

The Annihilator’s servant wasn’t just burning his own singular life.

He had harvested and stored the vital essence of hundreds, perhaps thousands of others.

-I find this distasteful, but if the goal is to hunt the Annihilator, I will lend my strength. Invoke ‘Winter’.

In that moment, the voice of ‘Winter’ resonated once more.

A cold, detached tone that betrayed a deep familiarity with the Annihilator.

How could a blade, entombed in the frozen wastes of the north, possess knowledge of an entity that even I find enigmatic?

It seemed to harbor a direct, ancient animosity toward that being.

Regardless, I had no reason to turn away the support.

My fingers tightened around the hilt of ‘Winter’.

Then.

《Invoking ‘Last Winter’.》

《‘Last Winter’ descends across all connected domains.》

Whooo!

Raktusha let out a breath, watching as the vapor turned to ice the moment it left his lips.

‘This is no ordinary storm.’

A season of frost had manifested out of thin air.

The howling blizzard wasn’t just a drop in temperature.

‘It’s a localized hex. It carries the same weight as the curse of Baal I encountered before.’

The falling flakes were manifestations of a blight.

Someone had unleashed the frozen malediction of winter.

It hampered movement, eroded magical resistances, and blunted the edge of every strike—a truly formidable debuff.

But who was responsible?

Who possessed the authority to beckon a season?

Baal had once marked everyone in his vicinity with the curse of a predatory lion.

Now, Raktusha felt that same crushing weight, but on a much vaster scale, reminiscent of the pressure at the base of the Practitioner’s Mountain near Baal’s domain.

Still, it wasn’t a lethal threat to a warrior of his caliber.

It was an annoyance, certainly, but one he could withstand.

The real problem lay elsewhere.

‘The reach of it…’

The storm wasn’t confined to a single area; it was bleeding across different domains.

This frost hadn’t arrived in isolation.

Hah.

《Significant numbers of low-vitality demonblood entities have perished.》

《Domain exploration progress has surged past 90%; ‘Domain Boss’ is manifesting.》

It was surreal.

The cold was purging the demonblood clan across a massive radius.

It claimed the weak, the maimed, and those already on the brink of death.

By doing so, it was artificially forcing the domain’s guardian to appear.

The boss hadn’t been slain yet, but that was a minor detail.

《Earned 30 contribution points.》

《Current Party Score: 510 points.》

《1st Place Party Score: 980 points.》

This was madness.

The score of the leading party was skyrocketing at a terrifying pace.

It wasn’t climbing by increments, but by hundreds of points in a single heartbeat.

That could only mean one thing.

‘The person who executed the Master and brought this frost is the leader of the top party.’

Who could possibly be capable of this?

Who was moving through the tower with such overwhelming lethality?

Someone was essentially terraforming entire domains through sheer force of will.

‘Could it be the White King himself?’

It was a possibility.

If the White King had personally entered the Rift Tower, such a feat might be within his grasp.

A White King at full power could certainly command a curse of this magnitude.

And if he was indeed within these walls.

‘This is the ideal moment to eliminate him.’

The tower was a cage.

There was no exit, meaning even the legendary White King, backed by his dragon kin, could be cornered and finished.

He was likely in a superior domain, but since this curse was bridging the gaps between levels, a path to cross over surely existed.

Raktusha felt a surge of confidence; he was currently bolstered by a blessing that pushed his capabilities far beyond his standard level.

With the ability to manifest sword aura now at his disposal, he felt ready.

《1st Place Party Score: 1,060 points.》

…But could it really be the White King?

The score had vaulted past the thousand-point mark in an eye-blink.

Even for a king, that disparity was hard to swallow.

At most, his progress should have been neck-and-neck with the Four Kings.

‘I need to clear this domain and claim the boss.’

There was no more time to waste.

However, charging the boss immediately wasn’t the play.

The most efficient route to points was to harvest everything in the domain first before taking the final prize.

That was the fundamental logic of these domains.

Relying solely on boss kills had its limitations.

Raktusha began a high-speed sweep of his current territory.

After a short while.

“Well, well. You…?”

A massive dragon of the earth.

A core pillar of the White King’s military strength.

He stood face-to-face with the earth dragon, whose body was currently bathed in a brilliant emerald radiance.

When Valte’s eyes fluttered open, she found herself in a world of blinding white.

‘What happened…?’

She could recall being hemmed in by a tide of monsters, but the rest was a void.

‘I collapsed again.’

She felt a bitter sting of shame.

To lose consciousness in the heat of battle was proof of her stagnation.

“Successor…?”

But her self-doubt was interrupted by the sight of a familiar silhouette standing in the midst of the frost.

Randolph.

He stood there, ‘Winter’ in hand, having successfully intercepted the blast.

The barrier of frozen blood stood like a monument—everything on the far side of that wall was encased in ice, as if time itself had been flash-frozen.

In contrast, the air on her side felt strangely temperate.

“Ah…”

“W-what is this place…?”

“Did he… did he just save our lives?”

The survivors began to stir, waking up one after another.

The sheer potency of Winter had overridden their previous bindings.

The ‘contracts’ they had been forced into by the tower’s overseer in the ‘Waiter’s Room’ were shattered.

The mental compulsion that had driven them to hunt down the bug user was gone.

With their wills returned and the threat of the explosion neutralized, it was only natural for them to view him as their savior.

Suddenly.

《The ‘???’ of the 1st place party has eliminated Black Paladin ‘Yor’, Brainwash Sorcerer ‘Yata’, and Toin Tribe Warrior ‘Sararam’.》

《Additional 280 points awarded.》

《Party member ‘Serengeti’ has contributed significantly to the suppression of the domain boss.》

《Additional 100 points awarded.》

《Party member ‘Rommel’ has delivered the killing blow to the domain boss.》

《1st Place Party Score: 1,520 points.》

Serengeti and Rommel had secured their own massive gains.

The total had reached 1,520.

It was a score that existed on a completely different plane compared to any other group.

Ziiing!

A shimmering, golden rift manifested in front of the party members.

《The ‘1st Place Party’ is challenging ‘Lord Solbaren’.》

《‘Lord Solbaren’s’ combat effectiveness has been reduced by 99.9%.》

《‘Lord Solbaren’ has entered a state of absolute panic.》

**Lord Solbaren’s Panic**

Standing before the earth dragon, Raktusha’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“You… weren’t you supposed to be ascending the tower alongside the White King?”

Raktusha had been certain that the top-ranked party was the White King’s entourage.

Logic dictated that the King would be traveling with his elite guard.

Yet, even though the system announced that the 1st place party was moving to challenge the final boss, the earth dragon was still right here, engaging him.

“Why would I feel the need to tell you anything?”

Kwarung!

Twin bolts of lightning descended like spears, crackling as they took positions on either side of the dragon’s massive form.

Whooooosh!

The terrain buckled as the two electric projectiles began to draw in the surrounding soil like magnetic vortices.

It was a technique Raktusha had never witnessed… no, it wasn’t a skill. It was the weapon.

A unique-tier armament that synthesized the elements of thunder and earth.

Where had the creature obtained such an item so suddenly?

With that weapon in play, the dragon’s combat potential had surged several tiers higher.

But that wasn’t Raktusha’s primary concern.

He had his own trump card; he could now manifest sword aura thanks to the influence of the Black Heaven Sword.

What truly gnawed at him was the inconsistency.

‘The leading party isn’t the White King?’

Then who was it?

Who had amassed a staggering 1,520 points?

The Black King wasn’t participating, which left the White King as the only logical candidate.

This meant the person responsible for the encroaching winter was an entirely unknown third party.

‘Is it the Empire? But for a disruption of this scale, it would require the Emperor to have physically entered the fray.’

The Emperor.

A figure who had been in a deep slumber for centuries, a being of pure myth.

The common belief was that neither the White King nor the Black King dared to provoke the Empire solely because of that ‘Sleeping Emperor’.

Only the Kings knew if that was the full truth—

But even Raktusha couldn’t find an explanation for this score unless the Emperor had finally opened his eyes.

No matter how many elite knights the Empire sent, none should have been able to outclass him to this degree.

‘Or perhaps… them?’

Back when the Black King was consolidating his power, certain outcasts—heretics—had made an overture.

The Black King had sneered at them, calling them ‘mongrels’ before turning them away.

If a mysterious force was dominating the tower like this… those outcasts were the most likely suspects.

“Raktusha. Is the Four Kings dead?”

The earth dragon asked the question abruptly.

Raktusha gave a hollow, mocking laugh.

“Why should I answer that?”

Information was a currency; he wasn’t about to give it away for free.

He had no reason to confirm whether the Four Kings was still drawing breath or not.

Chiiing!

The two lightning spears orbiting the earth dragon hummed with violent, erratic energy.

“I suppose I’ll have to beat the answer out of you.”

The dragon’s confidence was palpable.

Raktusha merely shrugged, unimpressed by the dragon’s prideful stance.

“We’ll see. I have my doubts that a pampered house-pet like you can make me talk.”

The northern region of Kramdel was a sheltered paradise for the elites.

A place where they could grow soft.

The south was a different world entirely. The Black King’s territories were theaters of constant, brutal conflict.

Only the truly resilient survived there, much like hardy weeds in a wasteland.

How could a delicate garden flower ever hope to overpower a weed that had survived a thousand storms?