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Chapter 148
[Translator â Peptobismol]
Chapter 148
Boom!
A wave crashed.
The wave, made of sand, struck the violet prison violently.
It felt as if a giant tsunami was surging through.
The sight before the old manâs eyes was unreal.
While the sand wave itself was surreal, Zeon standing upright atop the sand wave made it even more so.
It looked as if Zeon was controlling the sand.
The sand tsunami carried Zeon towards the old man.
At that moment, the old man and Zeonâs eyes met in the air.
âIs he really controlling the sand?â
âWe need to get out of here.â
âHurryâŚâ
The men from the Shadow Squad grabbed the old manâs arms and leapt into the air.
Swoosh!
The sand wave swept over the spot where the old man had been.
The violet prison shook violently, as if it would shatter at any moment.
This space, although separate from reality, still existed and had its limits.
The immense mass of sand pouring into the prison applied tremendous internal pressure.
Crack!
Finally, the prison couldnât withstand the internal pressure and began to tear apart.
âWhat in the world?â
The old man stared at Zeon in disbelief.
Zeon had essentially smashed a dungeon using sheer force.
Although he used sand, it was still Zeonâs power.
âHow strong is his control to command so much sand?â
It was beyond the old manâs understanding.
Over a hundred years ago, after the world nearly collapsed, many Awakeneds were born.
They were broadly categorized into martial, magical, mechanized, and cursed types, among others. Special ability Awakeneds, irregulars, also existed.
They possessed unusual powers, like Levin with his ghosting ability.
While their abilities were unique, they still had human limitations.
The old man, an A-rank barrier master, could only dominate a space up to a certain extent.
The fortress where the White Bear Caravan was and its surroundings were his limit.
Even that was a remarkable feat, which is why Jin Geum-ho sent him in case of emergencies.
Setting up a barrier around the fortress required mana and strong dominance.
No matter how much mana one had, weak dominance couldnât maintain a barrier for long.
Therefore, the old man, who knew better than anyone else the importance of dominance, saw Zeon as a monster.
âTo control that much sand⌠How strong is his control?â
Naturally, Zeon did not answer.
Though their eyes met briefly, the old man was no longer of interest to Zeon.
All of Zeonâs attention was on the fortress.
âDamien!â
Something was happening to him.
Though Zeon couldnât pinpoint what, he knew it wasnât good.
He had to reach Damien.
Increasing his control further, more sand flowed in from outside.
The combined mass increased, and with it, the destructive power.
The enhanced destruction shattered the prison like glass.
Crack!
As the violet prison broke, the environment changed.
The ominous violet light turned into a landscape filled with red sand.
Reality had replaced the surreal.
Yet, Zeon didnât stop.
Boom!
He drove the sand towards the top of the fortress.
Seeing this, the old man hurried to follow Zeon.
âHuh?â
âElder!â
The men from the Shadow Squad tried to follow, but the old man had already spread a barrier and disappeared.
âDamn it!â
âHead towards the fortress.â
The Shadow Squad men also approached the fortress.
â
Broy swayed precariously like a reed.
âUghhh!â
A painful groan escaped his lips.
A black tentacle was wrapped around Broyâs neck, lifting him off the ground.
He wasnât alone. Dozens of warriorsâdwarves, elves, and other beastmenâwere bound by tentacles, swaying precariously.
âUgh!â
âPlease, spareâŚâ
âAhh!â
Serian bit her lip as their groans filled the air.
All the elite warriors of the North District, whom she had trusted, were subdued by Damien.
âI should have acted myself.â
It was too late for regrets.
They had been overpowered in the blink of an eye.
Even Broy, whom she deeply trusted, was now a captive without having inflicted significant harm on Damien.
Damien swung the tentacles, causing the captives to groan in pain once more.
Some were on the brink of death.
Any further delay would put their lives in jeopardy.
Serian shouted urgently.
âStop!â
âBy whose ordersâŚâ
âIf you kill them, you wonât be safe either.â
âDonât pretend to care for me. Itâs disgusting.â
âCalm down.â
âYou should be the one calming down.â
Damien laughed harshly.
His usual polite tone was gone.
His speech was rough and savage, unlike his usual self.
This was due to the influence of the Prism Armor.
Specifically, it was the Crown of the Spirit King powering the armor.
The Prism Armor was merely a conduit.
The Crown of the Spirit King was the true source.
The power it sent was filtered and amplified through the Prism Armor, creating the Spectrum Prison.
The more power one used from the Crown, the more they became enslaved by it.
Damien was already half-enslaved by the Prism of the Spirit King.
Yet, he clung to his sanity for one reason.
âTell me the location of El Harun.â
âI canâtâŚâ
Crack!
[Translator â Peptobismol]
Before Serian could finish her sentence, Damien snapped the neck of one of the beastmen hanging from his tentacle.
The beastman died without even a scream, and Serianâs eyes trembled at the sight.
âEvery time you delay your answer, another one dies.â
âPlease, calm downâŚâ
At that moment, Damien killed another captive.
This time it was an elf. Serian was speechless at the elfâs death.
Damien sneered at Serian.
âStill not talking? Then Iâll kill this one next.â
He shook Broy, who was also ensnared by a tentacle.
âKeuk! Iâm fine, My Queen. Donât say anything.â
Broy urged, but the black tentacle around his neck tightened with immense force.
Broyâs face turned pale.
Seeing Broyâs state, Serian bit her lip so hard it bled.
Broy was a crucial figure.
Losing him would significantly weaken the North District.
The balance of power in their battles with other districts would tip drastically.
Crack!
A sound came from Broyâs neck as the bones began to give way.
A bit more pressure, and his neck would snap like a twig.
Serian closed her eyes and spoke.
âMagadan.â
âHuh?â
âEl Harun is located in what used to be the sea in front of the old Russian city of Magadan.â
âMagadan, huh? How do you get in?â
âI donât know. Iâve never been there.â
âCan you swear on the honor of the elves that youâre telling the truth?â
âI swear on the honor of the elves.â
Serian opened her eyes, her expression filled with resignation.
A smile appeared on Damienâs lips.
Swearing on the honor of the elves meant she could not lie.
Her words were the truth.
âFinally. Iâve finally found it⌠Haha!â
Damien laughed.
He had lived the past eight years for this moment, burning everything he had for it.
Damienâs gaze shifted to the empty space behind Serian.
âYou heard that? Brother!â
âI did.â
Standing on a massive pillar of sand was Zeon.
âI kept my promise to find El Harunâs location.â
âYes! You really kept your promise.â
âThank goodness.â
Damien smiled brightly, but his grin was hidden by the helmet that had almost entirely covered his face.
The Prism Armor was embedding itself into his body, merging with him. đŁđŻđ˘đ˘đ´đ˘đđđŹđđ˘đŠ.đđŹđ
Damien understood what this meant.
His consciousness was gradually fading, something else taking over his mind.
Damienâs gaze shifted to Alexandro.
Alexandro was already a bloodied mess.
The Spider Queen, Eli, was powerful.
The fact that he had held out this long was a miracle in itself.
Damien used the last of his strength to speak to Alexandro.
âGo.â
âDamien!â
âIâve achieved my goal. So go. Run and join Jack.â
ââŚâ
âYou promised, remember? So, keep your promise.â
âYes⌠Got it.â
Alexandro replied with difficulty and launched a powerful punch.
The blow sent Eli skidding backward.
Alexandro didnât miss the opportunity and retreated.
âAll survivors, fall back.â
At his command, the Awakeneds of the White Bear Caravan rushed over.
Alexandroâs face was filled with a complex mix of emotions.
Only a few had survived.
They had come prepared for death, but seeing so few survivors was heart-wrenching.
He suppressed his sorrow and said.
âLetâs go.â
âYes!â
The survivors glanced at Damien briefly.
Damien looked back at them.
No words were needed; they understood each other perfectly.
Alexandro and the survivors made their escape.
Serian watched, unable to stop them.
Her attention was fully on Damien, specifically on Broy and the other North District Awakeneds he held captive.
âNow that youâve achieved your goal, let them go.â
âHaha!â
âNo⌠are you thinking of breaking your promise?â
âI keep my promises. Theyâll all die anyway.â
âWhat?â
At that moment, Damien released everyone he had been holding with his tentacles.
Broy and the other North District Awakeneds collapsed, gasping for breath.
Boom!
The warehouse storing the Crown of the Spirit King exploded, and an ominous black light burst forth.
Serian and Eli instinctively closed their eyes against the blinding light, but Zeon kept his eyes open, staring intently.
The source of the black light was the Crown of the Spirit King.
Something that had been sealed within was awakening.
The black light enveloping Damien grew even darker.
Something was transferring from the Crown of the Spirit King into Damienâs body.
Crack! Crack!
Damienâs body twisted and morphed, growing over five meters tall.
The Prism Armor melded with his skin, becoming like a second layer.
His eyes turned a fierce red, filled with hostility, and his mouth jutted out like a beastâs, filled with flames.
Two horns sprouted from his head, marking him as no longer human.
A being that had been sealed within the Crown of the Spirit King had emerged through Damienâs body.
Serian, recognizing the transformation, whispered.
âBalrog!â
Grrrrhh!
As if in response, Balrogâs roar echoed across the desert.
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