The Successor of the Underworld is a Cheat Player

Chapter 31

The Successor To The Underworld Is A Cheat Player 31

“It’s better to keep troublesome elements close if they are the source of trouble.”

Trouble would soon become the driving force of experience and growth.

Moreover.

“The sect, I will handle it.”

An opportunity to resurrect the broken sect.

All of that.

“Please proceed as you wish.”

For the man’s purpose.

Barus seemed reluctant as Sein took Cecile away, but he could not defy Gallio’s will.

Above all.

– The witch had already set her sights on the saint.

Gallio’s logic was flawless.

– If even the Iron Cross cannot confront it, we cannot protect the saint.

To create, yet not protect.

From the start.

‘He must have planned to negotiate with Demorus or other factions using the saint.’

Gallio must have been planning to leverage the power of other factions.

It was just for the Saint to become the Heir.

-A price must be paid.

Created for a purpose, Sessil was everything to Galileo.

Saint also said that Sessil was taken for a purpose, but it would be the maximum protection Sessil could receive.

In that case, a deal.

In that case, a price must be paid.

-I will offer Tarian.

The top slave of Antara.

-No.

But the Saint refused.

-Hand over all of Antara.

Antara.

He wants that.

-Antara is not ours.

-Then make it so.

Saint said, looking at Barus.

Barus, with many shortcomings, would not be alone.

-Let me show you a way.

How to survive, how to wield holiness.

The greatest battle saint in the history of Chutuary.

-Work with Othomeo to offer Antara. Then Sessil will be safe.

With that, the negotiation was over.

They did not listen to the opinions of the parties involved, but there was no need to hear such things.

Saint stayed in Antara for a while, teaching Barus.

It was also for the Saint.

Hoo!

Holy Sword Bastion.

To fully draw out that power.

“Groan.”

Moaned the Saint.

Unfolding the Holy Flame Blade, a symbol of the Paladin’s status, was all it took.

Just 3 seconds.

That was how long the Saint could maintain the Holy Flame Blade.

It is said that with the power of the Holy Sword, one can convert mana into holiness, but the power the Saint possessed was still at a feeble level.

Moreover.

Crackle!

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Sparks burst out from Bastion, coiling up the Saint’s arm.

“You little…!”

The reason was simple.

“Don’t you listen to your master’s words?!”

Holy Sword.

He was a saint with the qualifications of a holy man, yet his heart also belonged to the demon king.

Unknowingly, magic flowing out, conflicting with Bastion.

Thud!

Eventually, blood burst from the saint’s arm.

“Hah. Hah.”

This was the saint’s task.

In the past, the Sacred Territory was just a game.

Even though there were various energies, one could simply turn them on and off to use the necessary power. But now, he had to control it down to the smallest detail with his own mind and body.

During the time trapped in the tutorial, he thought he had become accustomed to magic and believed he could handle it.

Zzang!

However, it was still difficult to utilize it perfectly.

But he was certain.

“If you can control Bastion perfectly.”

“If I can win.”

Then the saint would not only become the owner of the Holy Sword.

“Where should we try it?”

He would transform into a more powerful, almost perfect being.

“Well, if it doesn’t work, we’ll just discard it and find something else.”

With a smile, the saint once again grasped Bastion.

*

*

*

It had been about a dozen days since entering Antara.

During that time, the saint taught Barus, conquered Bastion, and had interactions with Sesil.

Of course, the same went for Otomeo’s Britz.

Otomeo agreed to cooperate with the saint’s proposal with a pleased expression.

The Information Guild was already failing.

With not even a single branch remaining, including the Antara branch.

But Antara’s largest slave trader, Tarian, promised to cooperate.

However, the most important thing was.

– Sain.

Sain.

– Sain Demorus. I bet on you.

Britz brought the meaning of Otomeo’s guild leader’s intention.

Otomeo had decided to bet everything on the saint.

It was the result of obtaining information that the vice-commander of the Iron Cross had been defeated, and there seemed to be Galio’s involvement.

Moreover.

‘Witch.’

The presence of Arin.

Otomeo had decided to entrust his fate to Sein for the sole reason of Arin being his guardian.

And finally, the time had come to leave Antara.

“I’ve told you what I can.”

Sein was currently with Sessil and Gallio.

“Barus might become a paladin, but he won’t suffer like before.”

“Thank you for your consideration.”

Gallio, the old man, smiled warmly.

“Is your communication with the Holy Sword going well?”

Some believed Bastion to be a cursed sword.

As it destroys the owner’s body, it is deemed unworthy of the title “Holy Sword.”

But Gallio was different.

“I heard Bastion is one of the most demanding Holy Swords.”

A being familiar with Bastion.

“You didn’t just embrace Angel’s will.”

It was widely known that Sein Archipald wielded magic.

“Not yet. But I’ll win.”

“I’ll assist you.”

Gallio said.

“It’s also the price for taking care of the saint.”

“I would have agreed to take Antara as payment.”

Gallio simply smiled at Sein’s words.

Swoosh.

Gallio rose to his feet.

Wobbling.

He seemed about to collapse.

Had Sessil not rushed over to support him, Gallio would surely have hit the ground, breaking his nose.

“It’s everything I have.”

Gallio approached, supported by Sessil, and reached out his hand.

“…….”

Sein, with an awkward expression, hesitated.

Swoosh.

He, too, reached out and grabbed Gallio’s hand.

He knew what he was about to do.

Normally impossible, but with Angel absent.

As a saint, Sein had the qualification.

Roar!

A storm of divine power surged.

It enveloped Sain, Sessil, and Gallio simultaneously.

“O Prophet of Prophecy.”

“…!”

“Please, restore the light.”

At Gallio’s words, Sain closed his eyes.

This was forbidden magic.

A heretical magic that transcends one’s divinity through the mediation of flesh and spirit.

“You were a heretic, weren’t you?”

“And now, at this moment, what use does that serve?”

Gallio chuckled warmly.

Psh!

Slowly, his flesh began to disintegrate into dust.

It was the final moments of the Archbishop who had safeguarded Antara for nearly a hundred years.

Thud.

“I have won, you brat.”

Bastion began to hear the words.

“As you said….”

A man with a long scar on his face.

His name is Furgan.

“Othomeo, I will cooperate with Tarian.”

Furgan, the boss of the Furgan Family, a sub-organization under Demorus that controls Antara, bore the scars on his face as a mark of pride when he gained recognition from Demorus, and another scar had been added.

On the opposite side of the scarred face was a faint yet distinct bruise.

“You’ve got a good grip.”

It was the glorious scar that Sain had created.

Sain, who had tamed Bastion, had done it right away.

Preparations were complete.

“I told you not to open your eyes like that.”

Ah, there was one more thing.

The opponent was not Furgan, but the girl next to Sain.

The radiant blonde-haired girl, Sessil.

“Ha. I know everything, not a clueless fool.”

The girl, who had been keeping her eyes half-closed, slowly bowed her head.

Annoyed, Sain tilted his ear.

Sessil, the saint of this era.

“I will protect you instead of summoning prey. That’s the agreement,” Sain said.

However.

“Don’t drag in unnecessary things. It’s irritating.”

The issue was Cecil’s appearance.

She was around fifteen years old.

Yet, despite her age, Cecil’s appearance was dazzling.

Just like the historical holy women and saints, Cecil also possessed a radiant beauty.

“What power does sanctity hold?”

If that were the case, then priests and nuns should have all been remarkably beautiful.

Yet, looking at Galio, that didn’t seem to be the case.

In the end, the saint who found the answer looked up at the sky and said,

“A damn brat.”

Angel.

Reflecting that brat’s wicked taste.

Of course, Cecil was not a saint chosen by an angel, but the thought lingered.

“Always keep your eyes down, mouth shut. Understand?”

Nod.

“Only speak when I tell you to.”

“I… understand.”

Cecil finally replied.

Only then did the saint show a satisfied smile.

With this, everything in Antara was done.

Given some time, Antara would become the saint’s domain.

“Information, armed forces, leadership.”

A fairly convincing domain that embodied the Trinity.

One day, Antara would grow into a solid foundation for the saint alongside Borfeo.

“Are you ready?”

Arian, leaning against the wall, greeted the saint who emerged from Purgen’s office.

“Hey.”

Grinning, the saint lightly tapped Bastion on Arian’s hip.

“You listened well.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Arian pushed off the wall.

As she turned around and lifted her foot, she added,

“You’ll need to listen even better.”

Borfeo, Antara.

And now.

“Things will be different from now on.”

Finally, it was time to head towards Demorus.

Level has not yet reached 10.

As it took quite some time in Antara, there was a need to hurry, and the path ahead was filled with places where encountering monsters was difficult.

However, Sein’s face was brimming with confidence.

*Smirk.*

Part of the power regained thanks to Arin, who became a backer and supporter.

Furthermore, a contract with the dragon, which did not exist in the past.

The lack of weapons was resolved with the Bastion.

*Vroom, vroom.*

The imbalance in divine power, which was heightened to the extent of engulfing magic and sorcery, thanks to Galio’s sublime sacrifice, had increased.

Sein’s level had not yet reached 10.

‘At this rate, it should be around 15.’

Judging by the stats and magic power, it would be at that level.

In a game where level 30 is the max, 15.

Still, having only reached the middle point of the tutorial, overflowing with confidence was inevitable.

Of course.