Chapter 57

Chapter 57
## Chapter 57: A Shadow Looming Behind

—

“Reverend Andrew, what is the current tally of your dark transgressions?”

“……It has plummeted from 674 down to 374. By the gods, what sort of madness have you unleashed to cause such a collapse?”

“It appears we can cleanse roughly 300 points in a single go. We shall require two more sessions.”

I produced the Holy Grail once more and poured its sanctified waters over Priest Andrew’s hands.

“Gah…!!”

The cleric’s eyes bulged, nearly popping from their sockets.

Another pardon could indeed be granted.

My theories were proving correct.

A predatory smirk stretched across my face.

Priest Andrew had been transformed into the ultimate vessel for divine absolution.

—

His soul was finally scrubbed clean of every stain of evil karma.

Isaac remained in a state of utter disbelief.

Aside from his time in Kramdel, the sole reason he had been a pariah in every human settlement was that suffocating aura of sin.

His mere presence had always radiated a primal, bone-deep threat.

Common folk would recoil in terror, their eyes drawn to him like a magnet for all the wrong reasons.

In the worst instances, city sentinels would arrive in force to clap him in irons.

This had been his reality in every corner of the world, save for the lawless Kramdel.

‘Not a single soul is staring at me.’

Isaac took a hesitant, shaking step into the bustling town square.

Under normal circumstances, his arrival should have caused a ripple of alarm.

That was the heavy price of evil karma.

And yet, the crowd remained indifferent.

They weren’t just ignoring him; they were simply living their lives.

“Mister? Why are the waterworks going?”

“Ah……”

A small child, perhaps six years of age, wandered up to Isaac and tugged at his attention.

In that instant, Isaac’s limbs—his entire frame—seized up with a violent tremor.

Holy men and the young were always the most attuned to the stench of evil karma.

Children, in particular, possessed a visceral instinct for it.

Ever since his sins had reached their peak, no child had dared to come within a stone’s throw of him. If they merely fled in tears, he considered it a mercy.

“Mama! This big mister is crying!”

“Sweetie, are you bothering people with your mischief again?”

“Nuh-uh! I didn’t do a thing!”

How many years had passed since he’d heard a child’s voice ring out with such purity?

He was well aware of his own darkness.

He had burned a city to the ground.

He had crippled war efforts, plundered the treasuries of lords, and taken lives beyond counting.

The clergy loathed him.

Far from offering him a path to redemption, they would summon holy knights to hunt him like a rabid dog.

Who would listen to his burden? Who would offer him a shred of trust?

Nobody.

Not a single soul.

He had resigned himself to a life of exile in Kramdel, fated to rot among beasts until the end.

Even that existence provided no sanctuary.

He wore a mask of cold indifference, but internally, he was a frayed wire, constantly fearing the moment the monsters would realize he wasn’t one of them.

Did Isaac truly wish to dwell among such horrors?

Deep down, he had always yearned to walk among his own kind.

—*I place my faith in you, caw.*

Then, without warning, a savior appeared who actually believed in him.

It was a first for him.

Even if that trust came from the beak of a corpse crow, the bird believed his every word without reservation.

To be honest, he’d initially suspected a swindle.

He’d lost count of those who had tried to extort or manipulate him.

But this wasn’t a trick.

It was the genuine article.

And this benefactor had used the power of indulgence without a second thought to wipe his slate clean.

—*Your sins are washed away, Isaac.*

A hand had been placed upon his brow, granting him a forgiveness he didn’t deserve.

The crow had acted as if it were a trifle, but Isaac understood the monumental bravery and conviction required for such an act.

These were sensations he had never experienced.

To receive such unyielding, blind devotion was a revelation.

He could never bring himself to spit on that faith.

He had to be better from this moment forward.

Was this the sensation of a soul being forged anew?

“Thank you…… I am so grateful…… Sniff…… Sob.”

Isaac buried his face in his palms.

But the saltwater continued to soak the earth beneath him.

The tears surged forth without end, as if he had regressed to the child he once was.

—

The groundwork was laid.

Nothing remained but the march forward.

Main Quest 6.

‘Vanquish the Party Dungeon.’

A party dungeon wasn’t merely a hole in the ground for a group of people to raid.

At their core, these trials functioned on a foundation of mutual trust and absolute loyalty among the members.

That was the source of their legendary brutality.

And sitting at the peak of that notoriety was one in particular.

‘Demigod Trait Dungeon.’

Every preparation required to journey there was finally in place.

Heart of the Eternal Lord.

We climbed into the Hydragon coach and watched the Knight’s Garden fade into the distance.

Isabella, Isaac, Serengeti.

And myself—a quartet in total.

“How are you holding up?”

“Marvelous. I feel light enough to take to the skies.”

When I checked in on Serengeti within the cramped carriage, she mimicked a walking motion with her legs, her response brimming with energy.

She was a testament to the power of a top-tier elixir.

As for the lingering threat—the ‘Demon King’s Curse’—it seemed we could manage it so long as it remained suppressed.

Even if we only had a 56-hour window.

‘The swiftest clear on record.’

We needed to hit the finish line before Serengeti succumbed to her slumber.

The Demigod Trait Party Dungeon was a labyrinthine nightmare that players ranked somewhere between ‘unbearable’ and ‘cruel.’

A perfect completion had never been recorded.

The reigning record stood at roughly 80% completion.

I knew this for a fact, because I was the one who set it.

‘I am going to have to surpass my own ghost.’

I rested my chin in my hand, lost in thought.

Even in my time as Wilhelm, I hadn’t managed to conquer it fully.

Could our current ragtag group actually dismantle such a place?

‘The threshold for the Demigod Trait Party Dungeon is exactly four souls.’

Demigod Trait Party Dungeon.

‘Demigod’ was the classification for gauntlets forged by nameless, higher-dimensional entities.

Legend says they originated in the ancient myths of creation, much like the tower itself, crafting dungeons designed to test adventurers under hyper-specific constraints.

One such rule: the party must consist of exactly ‘four’ members.

No more, no fewer—the number was absolute.

Furthermore, no participant could carry the stench of evil karma, and the designated leader had to possess an honor score of at least 500.

‘A sanctum for the virtuous. It implies the Demigod architect was of a divine leaning.’

Regardless.

The team I led as Wilhelm was, on paper, far superior to this one.

I’d had a high-ranking priest, a guardian built like a fortress, and a master infiltrator for reconnaissance.

In stark contrast, our current roster……

‘……Our composition is dangerously lopsided toward offense.’

Two shadow-strikers, one heavy-hitter, and myself—a pure frontline combatant.

We had zero defensive utility.

It was a glass-cannon build; if we didn’t shatter the enemy instantly, we would be the ones to break.

It was a grim outlook, but we possessed one advantage over my previous life: a ‘bond of genuine trust.’

‘At the very least, these three won’t stick a knife in my back.’

Party dungeons were notorious breeding grounds for betrayal and internal sabotage.

It didn’t matter how balanced your team was; one turncoat meant total annihilation.

And during my tenure as Wilhelm, it had been a never-ending cycle of treachery.

Allies I thought were solid, knights I’d shared bread with—they all turned eventually.

‘All three of them were rats.’

Every single person except me had sold out.

They tore each other apart over the spoils.

It was a miracle we even hit the 80% mark.

From that perspective, this group was a step up.

At least I didn’t have to watch my back.

……Or did I?

Well, I hadn’t expected the betrayal back then, either.

“We have a tail.”

Serengeti’s voice sliced through the silence of the carriage.

We had already warped out of the metropolitan area and were making for the Demigod Dungeon.

……Interesting. I hadn’t sensed a thing.

Neither had Isaac or Isabella, if their startled expressions were any indication.

“Shall we take a look at his mug?”

“By all means.”

Serengeti gave a small nod and tapped her heel against the floorboards.

In the blink of an eye, Serengeti was gone.

It looked like a seamless teleportation.

But what followed was even more jarring.

“Guh……?!”

In the seat where Serengeti had just been sat a bewildered stranger.

The man scrambled in panic, but I recognized the phenomenon immediately.

Position Swap.

Serengeti had the ability to trade places with a target of her choosing.

It might have seemed like a parlor trick to some, but it was a terrifying power granted by her transcendence.

I scanned the frantic man.

He was a mess of unkempt hair.

【Lv. 10】

And he was Level 10.

A high-level predator trailing us through the shadows.

The man regained his composure with frightening speed, reaching into his sleeve.

*Thump.*

With a dull vibration, Serengeti materialized back in the seat.

“Did you get a good look?”

“Too much fuzz on his face to be sure. But he’s packing concealed steel in his sleeves. An assassin.”

“What’s the verdict?”

“Finish him.”

“Consider it done. I’ll make sure to get a better look while I’m at it.”

*Thump.*

The man reappeared in the carriage.

His hand was still buried in his sleeve.

“What kind of sorcery is—”

*Thump.*

*Thump.*

“Some sort of—”

*Thump.*

*Thump.*

“Enough!”

*Thump.*

*Thump.*

With every rhythmic stomp of her foot, the man was blinked further away from our moving carriage.

Serengeti continued to cycle through the swaps, relentlessly closing the gap.

*Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump-thump-thump.*

Finally, out in the vast emptiness of the plains, Serengeti stood face-to-face with her quarry.

“Pfft!”

Upon seeing his features up close, Serengeti let out a short, mocking snort.

—

A slaughter was inevitable.

To complete Main Quest 6, Randolph would undoubtedly gravitate toward this location.

‘He always emerges from the blind spots.’

That was his signature.

Throughout the previous five main objectives, Randolph had consistently defied all projections.

This instance would be no different.

The Demigod Trait Dungeon.

He would show up to conquer the party dungeon that everyone deemed an impossible feat.

‘The entry requirements are suicidal, but Randolph will find a way.’

Four party members with zero evil karma.

Plus a leader with over 500 honor points!

The general consensus was that such a feat was currently unachievable.

Most people ignored the party dungeons—how could anyone amass 500 fame this early in the game?

Only players could hold the leadership position, and it should have been impossible for the unaffiliated Randolph.

Massacre shared this conviction.

That was why he had set his sights on ‘logical’ ambush points multiple times.

‘He is a man who shatters common sense. He will definitely be here.’

Ordinary logic defined the boundaries.

To catch a ghost like Phantom—Randolph—one had to look beyond those boundaries.

He was certain.

Main Quest 6: Clear the Party Dungeon.

The target would manifest at this very ‘Demigod Trait Dungeon.’

This time, the ambush would land.

‘I will be etched in history as the man who slew Phantom.’

Among the players of Pangeniar, Phantom was a legend. A deity.

To kill a god was to become a godslayer.

That had been his ambition from the beginning.

Following the death sentence passed on Wilhelm, Massacre had hunted the player known as Phantom with singular focus.

“……He’s arrived.”

After an eternity of waiting, he had finally spotted his prey.

A carriage drawn by a horned Hydragon.

Its trajectory was a straight line toward the ‘Demigod Trait Dungeon.’

At this stage of the game, only Randolph would be bold enough to head there!

‘At long last!’

Massacre felt a surge of triumph.

The amount of time he had spent tracking and waiting was staggering.

He had missed his mark several times due to errors in judgment, but not today.

‘Your luck has finally run dry, Phantom.’

The vigil was over.

By sunset, every player would know his name.

Massacre shadowed the Hydragon coach with silent precision.

“Guh……?!”

Suddenly, his world inverted.

He was inside the carriage.

Surrounding him were two men and a woman.

Instinctively, he plunged his hand into his sleeve.