The Successor of the Underworld is a Cheat Player

The Successor To The Underworld Is A Cheat Player 26

Profit.

Ahhh!

A sacred light shone in the underground slave district.

-“The sanctuary of Antara is closed.”

Brietz said,

“I may introduce those who can help, although I am unsure of what you seek.”

We can guide you on how to get closer to what Saint seeks.

Thus arrived at the slave market.

Thus arrived at the darkest place.

“This is Tarion, the largest overseer in the Antara slave market.”

Tarion.

“Not many call me that…”

Grinning,

Palu raised the corner of his mouth.

“It’s known as the Dark Temple.”

Dark Temple.

Ahhh!

The divine light healed humans and fulfilled its role.

The healed humans wore metal chains around their necks and arms.

“Is this for real?”

“What are you saying?”

Sein spoke, sounding astonished.

“Angel’s followers are slave traders.”

Humans emitting divine power.

Those who were once called priests in the past were managing and healing slaves.

“Such words….”

At Sein’s words, Palu was startled, on the verge of saying something, when a voice came from behind.

“Instead of calling me a merchant, would you prefer the term overseer?”

Sein, as if already aware, turned around slowly.

There stood a neat middle-aged man with a gentle smile.

“….! Lord Barus!”

Palu exclaimed in surprise.

The lad, who didn’t even drop informal speech when facing a slap, immediately spoke upon seeing him.

“He is Barus, leading the upper echelons of Tarian.”

This man is none other than the head of the upper echelons in Tarian.

“So, you are the one who first came to Antara. I heard the story from Britz. He sent the guest away.”

Barus.

Sein locked eyes with Barus.

Eyes that didn’t evade each other.

Barus, the owner of thousands of slaves, had a surprisingly warm demeanor not fitting of a master of the upper echelons.

“Hah.”

Once again, Sein clicked his tongue.

“This is insane.”

More shocking than the repulsive slave market was this sight.

The priests of Angel buying and selling slaves.

And the head of the upper echelons managing and controlling those merchants….

‘Like a bishop.’

The fact that they are priests of bishop rank.

In the end, just part of the game’s religion.

It might be best not to give it much significance, but Sein, who had been obsessed with the scenery, also harbored unusual emotions.

Hence, even if things changed, it was quite shocking to see the priests of Angel, who preached love and acceptance towards humans, involved in the slave trade.

Above all.

‘Is Angel lending them power?’

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The fact that the god, Angel, was granting them divine power.

“Since Britz sent you, I expected someone extraordinary.”

Barus seemed to notice Sein’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Would you like to come in and have a chat?”

Barus suggested slowly to Sein.

“No.”

But Sein refused.

No matter how astonishing the scene reflected in his eyes was, it didn’t matter.

Sein’s goal was solely one from the beginning to the end.

“If you are of bishop rank, it’s all good.”

“……”

“I want to rest.”

It was rest.

“Does it suit your taste?”

With a gentle smile, Barus spoke to Sain.

Sain had initially declined Barus’s proposal to speak indoors.

Gulp.

But now Sain was being served tea in Tarian’s office.

“Since you seem to dislike beating around the bush, I’ll be straightforward.”

Bishop level, rest.

Barus’s expression changed upon hearing those two words, knowing it would be difficult to get what he wanted, so he asked to talk about it again.

“Seems like dealing with a bishop is no walk in the park.”

In the Society of Sanctuary where Level 30 was the max, the level of a bishop’s clergy was over 20.

Though Sain had quickly regained strength with Arin’s help, facing a bishop head-on now was out of the question.

Especially considering this was the bishop’s stronghold.

“While it’s true that I possess the sanctity of a bishop, I am not one.”

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It was necessary to listen to the story.

“……”

Sain stared straight into Barus’s eyes, waiting for him to continue.

“Also….”

Maintaining his warm smile, Barus addressed Sain.

“Rest, you say. Are you asking me to bring you death?”

Rest.

The word Sain had uttered.

“Weren’t we supposed to get to the point? If you’re planning a test, it’s annoying.”

“Really, do you know about rest?”

Silence was an affirmation.

Barus, understanding from Sain’s silence, eventually wiped the smile off his face.

“Rest, huh. It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone who truly understands Antara’s rest.”

Antara’s rest.

“But even then, there’s no way I can help.”

“Ha.”

When Sain’s brow furrowed.

“As I mentioned, I am not a bishop.”

A clergy with the sanctity of a bishop, but not a bishop.

Contradiction.

A clergy preaching warmth and love enslaves.

Another contradiction.

But.

“I didn’t come all the way here because of you.”

There was no reason to dwell on complex contradictions.

“Dealing with you and the priests here must be quite bothersome…”

Tap.

Sein raised both legs onto the table and spoke.

“There’s nothing I can’t handle when dealing with them.”

Unless he was alone.

“There’s a witch here.”

“…!”

For the first time, cracks appeared on Varus’s face at the mention of the witch.

Confusion, surprise.

And anger.

Goooo-!

The overwhelming divine power seemed to engulf Sein’s madness in the room.

“That’s enough.”

A voice echoed.

Snap!

The storm of divine power vanished in an instant.

A more immense and warm aura seemed to embrace everything.

The door opened.

Standing there was the aged gatekeeper of Tyran.

“His words are true.”

“Yes?”

“The witch has arrived in Antara. The witch of the Legion.”

“…!”

It was Gali Inspiration.

Dull white eyes, hunched back.

But the tangible aura emanating from the old man’s body seemed unbeatable even if all of Tyran were to attack.

Abundance tends to overflow.

Yet, Gali Inspiration, all these years, as the gatekeeper of Tyran, didn’t even cast a shadow in the light of divine power.

He was the vessel capable of containing the overflowing divine power.

“It is you.”

Not a created divine power, but the owner of bestowed divine power.

“The Archbishop of Antara.”

Seated Sein gazed directly at Gali Inspiration.

This too might be a specter of the past.

*

*

*

The underground passage.

As is often the case with those who harbor many secrets, there existed secret passages in Tarian.

Sein, along with Galli Inspiration and Barus, strolled through the place.

“It’s truly astonishing.”

It was Sein who spoke.

“Who would have thought they’d be cultivating divine power in such a manner.”

The priests who concealed their traces.

They openly existed here in Tarian.

Beings who were secrets yet not secrets.

‘They must have had the protection of Demorus.’

Though they were said to have been erased from the world, they were beings that existed.

By the logic of the Dark Abyss.

Divine power was a formidable force.

To the extent that it could even resurrect the dead when taken to extremes.

At present, with the priests concealing their traces, there was the power of alchemists and sorcerers, but divine power would have been a force not easily relinquished.

‘To continue the lineage and keep under surveillance.’

It would have been a treaty secretly forged by the Dark Abyss.

What was remarkable was.

‘The method of raising priests.’

Since the temples have vanished and they no longer receive divine power from Anghel, they were forcibly sowing and nurturing the seeds of divine power.

“Healing the most afflicted.”

As Anghel taught.

“Caring for the lowest of the low.”

Even if the outcome was dire.

Barus could consider that outcome.

Unrecognized as a bishop, but a monster akin to a bishop in terms of divine power.

How many thousands of slaves did he heal to cultivate divine power?

And this method, in the past…

“The Saint has spoken.”

Galli Inspiration opened his mouth.

“Even without Anghel’s protection, divine power thrives on pain.”

“….”

“Walking in the teachings of the divine without relying on God’s grace is also a manifestation of the divine.”

Galli Inspiration had stopped and was now looking at Sein.

“Thanks to His teachings, we have not lost faith.”

A gaze filled with unwavering faith and goodness.

Even Barus found it somewhat perplexing.

“What do you seek to find in tranquility?”

“….”

Sein’s madness subsided.

“Do you seek what you’re looking for in tranquility?”

“It will happen.”

Sein walked away.

At some point, Barus and Gallio stopped in their tracks.

“What I seek in rest is….”

Sein’s voice echoed like a reverberation.

“It’s the minimal power to correct what’s wrong.”

Swiftly.

In a moment, Sein vanished into the darkness.

Only Barus and Gallio remained.

No.

“Lord Gallio.”

The Archbishop, Gallio.

He had safeguarded the faith of Angel for over a hundred and twenty years, the very warrior who had little time left.

“What exactly is rest?”

Barus, self-proclaimed as his disciple, inquired.

“And who is the author?”

He asked again.

Just three times.

The number of times Tarrian was established and Gallio made a move.

And today, the third had become the fourth.

“I saw him a long time ago.”

Behind murky pale eyes, a glimmer shone.

“The Last Saint.”

“….!”

The Last Saint.

And the name they called him.

“Fallen Saint, the Word of Perdition?”

It couldn’t be.

“How could a dead man appear here?”

Barus couldn’t ignore Gallio.

*

*

*

‘Gallio.’

He had seen him once.

A novice priest at the Antara Cathedral.

-Yes, I greet the glorious sun of the Empire!

A priest who wore the title of novice quite fittingly.

Bowing towards himself, yet unwavering in his faith towards the divine.

A priest whose sparkle was too strong to dismiss as mere artificial intelligence.