I Became a Mythical Hunter After Killing the Golden Goblin - Chapter 122

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 122. The Final Stage
“You insignificant insect!!”
The Puppet Master barely dodged the Fallen Angel as she rushed toward him with a chilling aura, clicking his tongue and furrowing his brow in frustration.
A variable. An unforeseen variable had emerged. This insignificant pest—one I had never anticipated, never seriously considered—had become the most lethal blade piercing through my grand scheme, now aimed directly at me.
I surveyed the entire battlefield. We were losing. The precarious balance of the battle was beginning to crumble.
Without needing to look further, even just observing my own fight showed that my puppets could no longer withstand my blood curse technique and were beginning to show signs of rampage.
I had reached my limit. I had never anticipated combat would occur so suddenly, so I had inscribed the consciousness of my puppets primarily for support—specifically, to handle summoning magic circles.
Moreover, in preparation for tomorrow’s grand event, I had consumed over fifty percent of the puppets I had created thus far and all the corpses in this meat warehouse to craft supremely powerful puppets of the highest caliber. Yet these puppets had not achieved perfect fusion.
My puppets are completed through the fusion of blood curse technique, corpses, and demonic power. It was not easy to create them so hastily.
Unless I was willing to accept massive losses like I had done at Underground Level 5, recklessly sending dozens of puppets into rampage and discarding them as sacrificial pawns.
The Puppet Master’s face twisted. One pillar of my grand scheme was crumbling. For the first time in my life, I entertained such a thought.
Had I made a mistake?
‘No, this choice was correct.’
To withstand the strong at tomorrow’s festival, quantity was important, but quality was equally—if not more—vital. For me, fusing the puppets was the natural choice. Besides, thirty percent of the remaining fifty percent had already been destroyed by this variable at Underground Level 5.
I had even secured the Saint, and I had killed Cardinal Batroy, who could have become the greatest variable. I knew the Pope, cautious in all matters and soft-hearted, would not intervene until something was certain.
And the moment everything became certain was when the god he served would descend. Even if the Pope was called the strongest, it posed no great problem.
A mere insect could never defeat a god. No matter how much one was called the strongest, they would only be the strongest among humans.
It was a perfect grand scheme. Because failure was absolutely unacceptable, because all eyes of the Demon Palace were focused here, because my god was descending personally, I had done my utmost.
I had poured in time, effort, and resources. For a perfect and complete victory.
But this variable. Ever since he killed one of my Ma-in servants in the Primordial City and destroyed my piece meant for chaos, from the moment this insignificant wretch appeared, everything changed.
He learned the truth of my grand scheme, toppled the pillars I had erected, and even from traps I was certain would kill him, he emerged unscathed.
As if heaven itself favored only him, this wretch knew neither frustration nor despair. There existed only forward momentum, ever forward.
‘Damn it.’
That fight had ended. The Saint had knelt before him. I knew she was unsuited for combat despite her title, but to think she would lose so pathetically to such a weak opponent.
The painful wound on her shoulder from the holy relic, the lack of experience evident in her direct physical combat, and the arrogance—nothing but carelessness—that accompanied it.
There were three factors in her defeat. Watching the Saint struggle on the brink of death, I had to make a choice.
‘Abandon her.’
I chose to retreat. I decided to escape this situation, even if it meant abandoning the puppets here, the warehouse itself, and even one axis of the summoning circle prepared in the warehouse.
‘They cannot expose this warehouse anyway.’
They are criminals. Criminals who committed high treason in the Holy Kingdom. Even if they report this warehouse, I can bury it from my position.
Losing a Saintess candidate—and one so excellent that an overwhelming victory was predicted—was deeply painful, but survival came first.
“Stop struggling and just die crushed!”
This mad woman! The moment I decided, she came charging at me with the intent to truly kill. Seeing Belial, I unleashed all my remaining power in an explosion.
Kwaaaaaang!!!
All the blood curse entities that had been summoned burst outward, creating a brief opening. The Puppet Master did not miss this gap and launched himself toward the Saint and the variable.
‘I cannot let her die.’
The Saint is a card I absolutely cannot abandon right now. After all, since the Holy Spirit Festival began with the Saintess Competition as bait, her disappearance could create a shockwave of an entirely different magnitude than Cardinal Batroy’s disappearance under the guise of a meeting.
In the worst case, the festival could be canceled immediately and everyone would search the entire Holy Kingdom for the Saint. Naturally, this would expose the pillars of my grand scheme I had prepared throughout the kingdom—far too dangerous.
My entire prepared scheme could collapse entirely.
Above all, she holds an important pillar of my grand scheme. I had made this preparation with trust, having promised mutual benefit and made a demonic contract.
The Descent Ritual—a sacred magic unique to the Saint. Blessed most deeply by the gods, even a Saint who had fallen from their sight could perform the ritual far more easily and naturally than anyone else.
And the Saint had promised to twist that very ritual and use it in a ceremony to serve the Demon King.
Naturally, there was no need for her to take the front stage. After all, the center of the summoning circle had been installed at a location where her true body resided—a place no one knew of.
The moment the calamity-grade monster fell, she would be transported through the teleportation magic he had prepared to the central magic circle and begin the summoning ritual. In the meantime, he would simply guard the corpse of the calamity-grade monster and draw one axis of the magic circle.
‘And if I offer the Saint as a sacrifice as well, it will be perfect.’
He was Ma-in. From the beginning, he had never intended to keep his promise with the Saint.
This grand scheme was the first step for his Demon King to ascend to the position of Demon God, and it was an event that all Demon Kings were watching.
If that being merely descended, then at minimum, everything in this Holy Kingdom would need to be erased for it to be called a truly great Achievement!
That was precisely why she could not die. Especially since he would have to abandon this puppet—the backup he had prepared to conduct this summoning ritual—if things went wrong.
If she died and this puppet, which had consumed nearly as many sacrifices, time, and resources as Cardinal Aoira’s puppet, were destroyed, the descent ritual would become impossible.
“I’ll kill you all!”
He sent the body he was wearing into a rampage. It was one of his masterpieces, created by gathering dozens of corpses with talent in sorcery, but it was a body entirely unsuited for combat—designed solely for the summoning ritual.
So to deal any meaningful damage to them here, he had no choice but to send it into a rampage.
He hadn’t even considered killing them. It would have been impossible anyway.
The rampage was no ordinary rampage. He had transformed the puppet into a living bomb.
“What…what is this?”
Shin Ju-ha, sensing the instinctive danger, instinctively retreated from the Saint and began gathering his inner energy in a state of heightened alertness.
But the target was not him. The Puppet Master, collapsing, immediately reached toward the Saint, who trembled violently as death itself approached her.
But. It was not enough.
“Where do you think you’re going? You need to play with me more!”
Belial, who had somehow escaped the explosion and seized his foot, prevented him from advancing any further, her bewitching eyes gleaming as if she would devour the puppet on the spot.
The Puppet Master, enraged that nothing was going according to his plan, immediately shouted to address the most urgent priority.
“Snap out of it, you crazy woman!”
At his cry, the Saint’s pupils moved and her eyes met the puppet’s. Had she instinctively recognized that hand as a hand of salvation?
The Saint reached out, and their hands barely grazed each other.
In that instant, a single sacred magic formula inscribed on the puppet transferred through the fleeting contact to the Saint. And the Saint, acting on instinct, imbued it with her holy power and manifested the formula.
Whoosh!
Sacred Magic—Teleportation—Transformation
Originally a buff spell, but transformed by the Saint into something resembling spatial magic, that miracle occurred, and the Saint’s body vanished from the Warehouse in an instant.
“Damn it!”
Only then did Shin Ju-ha realize he had been played. He furrowed his brow and let out a low curse along with a sigh. It had been a perfect opportunity. An excellent chance to kill the Saint.
An opportunity that would never come again.
In the next battle, the Saint would no longer be careless or arrogant. She would do her utmost to kill him.
If that happened, victory could not be guaranteed. In fact, this victory had only been seized by landing one fatal blow with Longinus and exploiting her carelessness—had luck been against him, he would already be a corpse lying on the ground.
Shin Ju-ha gazed at the puppet. As if its role had ended, it no longer resisted Belial’s attacks and simply stared at him with eyes that held no resistance, only focus.
The Sun and Guihwa. Two flames flickered beautifully, reading the existence that lurked behind the puppet.
And for the first time, he saw it. The Puppet Master’s true body.
-What in the world are you? How can an irregular like you even exist?
Seeing those eyes speak such words, he extended his fist to shatter the puppet in that very moment.
-Next time, I will surely take that neck of yours.
Dozens of puppets in the Warehouse suddenly turned crimson, swelling grotesquely before—
Blood Fiend Technique (血怪術)—Self-Destruct—Parasitic Aberration
They detonated in unison.
***
【Hmm…】
In the deepest reaches of the Abyss. The players of this generation divided the early and mid-stages around Stage-100, so what should this place be called?
Yes, the Deep Realm. It was a place so profoundly deep that such a name befitted it.
Stage-666. The Dark Magic World. The Fourth Domain.
The territory and heart of the Demon King occupying the fourth throne among seventy-two seats—in the Demon Lord Castle, the Demon King’s eyes opened.
【Great Lord of Death…grant us your command.】
A subordinate prostrated beneath the Demon King. Following suit, the other subordinates bowed their heads in loyalty and reverence.
They were all the Dead. Beings of death, reborn through death and grown stronger still.
【The time has come. The hour of descent approaches.】
【Ah…you draw ever closer to the great divine!】
The Demon King let out a cold laugh at his subordinate’s words. His subordinates and even his avatars believed he was laying the groundwork toward becoming a Demon God by absorbing fragments of the Primordial Demon, but that was a misconception.
If such were the case, stronger and more powerful Demon Kings would have stepped forward themselves.
Being the fourth throne did not mean being the fourth strongest. In truth, he was among the weakest of the Demon Kings—a fragile(?) ruler.
That is why I understood. This descent was an experiment. My authority over the Dead was absolute, bordering on the divine.
Another terminal connected to the original body of the avatar.
In other words, if I could manipulate and absorb the avatar according to my will, then it would be confirmed.
【Ah…great and mighty Primordial Demon.】
That their god had met his end.
For over a thousand years, the Demon Kings had desperately searched for the vanished Primordial Demon, and finally, a consensus had emerged among them.
The great Primordial Demon, master of all demonkind, had met his final fate.
Few entities in this Abyss could have harmed him, and all possessed alibis, so the prevailing theory was that he had chosen his own end.
When united beneath a great leader, the Demon Kings and their clans wielded tremendous power. But the moment that leader vanished, they became rivals competing for the next Demon God’s throne.
And the catalyst for that war was his descent.
If this descent confirmed the Primordial Demon’s death, the Demon Realm would transform into a true warzone.
【Truly a lamentable affair.】
The reason he became the catalyst for this war was twofold: his unique authority and his sworn oath never to covet the Demon God’s position, even if he absorbed the avatar. Though in truth, that oath had been coerced by the threats of other Demon Kings.
Spilled water cannot be gathered again.
The Demon King rose from his seat. The time had come.
【All of you, prepare. War shall begin soon.】
I needed to vent this irritating and unpleasant mood.
To maintain neutrality and withdraw carefully during a massive war that might span millennia, I would need to purge this feeling entirely beforehand.
【At last, I can rampage freely.】
The fourth throne among seventy-two seats. The Demon King of Death. Alternative name: The Lord Who Devours Death. Kamighin. I had completed my preparations for descent.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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