Level -99 Archmage - Chapter 137

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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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Episode 137. The Fallen Saint
“I refuse.”
Park Chan-woo answered without hesitation.
A disciple would only be a nuisance.
“…I… I suppose it’s impossible, then?”
Han Min-o lifted his head slightly, his expression etched with longing.
From Han Min-o’s perspective, Park Chan-woo was the strongest person in Korea.
He hadn’t witnessed a proper fight, but at their very first meeting, the man had saved him from a demon—no small feat.
He’d never heard of anyone capable of such a thing.
Even the weakest demons ranked at least Level 50 or higher.
‘Perhaps he’s the strongest not just in Korea, but in the entire world….’
Becoming Park Chan-woo’s disciple would mean having the world’s strongest master.
That overwhelming Swordsmanship—cutting down dozens of Avatars in a single stroke!
If he inherited such technique, he could surpass even his brother, Han Shin.
But Park Chan-woo’s thoughts ran differently.
“If you want to grow stronger, act alone.”
“Alone in the Abyss… you mean?”
“Yes. In the Abyss, don’t seek anyone’s aid. Such reliance weakens you. And the true Abyss is far too merciless to allow help from others.”
Park Chan-woo’s words came from conviction.
‘The real Abyss hasn’t even appeared yet.’
The Abysses that had emerged on Earth were all substandard, crude constructs fashioned by second-rate Creators chasing petty profit.
Even the “Second Night” crafted by the Moon Lord Aheta was merely a place designed to observe humanity’s latent potential, stuffed with numerous Doppelgängers.
Nothing but “sample” Creative Abysses, churned out endlessly.
An Abyss of the truly vicious sort—one that plunges mankind into despair, that revels in human desperation, that drains them to the marrow—had not yet materialized.
‘In the end, humanity has become nothing but playthings for demons. They’ve only ever shown contempt in the Racial Wars.’
There was no hope to be had.
The quantity of Coins they could harvest was limited; even if trained, they’d never break even—a species so weak it barely mattered.
In the demons’ assessment, humanity’s potential was “hopeless.”
Of course, the Creators would have to be bankrupted and eliminated entirely, but the balance between these two forces was crucial.
A Necessary Evil.
He had to periodically convince them that humanity possessed potential, that they were a repository of resources capable of yielding massive quantities of Coins, that a latent strength existed to rival the Twelve Races.
To achieve that—
“Grow stronger. You possess the potential to become a Savior.”
Park Chan-woo looked directly into Han Min-o’s eyes as he spoke.
Yi Hyeok-soo and Han Min-o.
Both were individuals with the potential to become Saviors.
The world that lay ahead would need heroes true in themselves, not mere Avatars.
For the Racial Wars, and for the Creators’ attention alike.
Han Min-o’s face went blank as he replied.
“…Could someone like me really become a Savior, equal to Yi Hyeok-soo?”
No matter how much he’d merged with that worldview and burned away his trauma, the words simply didn’t ring true to him.
‘What Han Min-o needs is faith.’
Park Chan-woo was certain of it.
The memories he’d witnessed in that boy’s inner world were all threaded through with mistrust.
That’s why he’d lost confidence, why his gifts never shone as they should.
Park Chan-woo spoke with force.
“You can. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have saved you three times over.”
“Ah…!”
Tremor.
Han Min-o’s body shook.
Those words meant he had been deliberately rescued three times over—for the sake of his potential alone.
‘He wasn’t just someone passing through…!’
A benefactor. A man of destiny.
Han Min-o lowered his head.
“Th-thank you so much. If only I could repay your kindness somehow… your contact information perhaps…?”
“We’ll meet again.”
“Ah…”
His face showed keen disappointment.
But this distance—this precise distance—was what they both needed.
Park Chan-woo turned and spoke as he departed.
“And it’ll begin soon.”
“B-begin? What exactly will begin, sir?”
“The true Abyss.”
“The true… Abyss?”
Park Chan-woo offered no answer.
He simply turned and walked away in silence.
Large-scale targeted Abyss incidents would no longer occur.
But a far graver problem remained.
‘An Abyss filled with nothing but malice will emerge.’
Every Abyss that had appeared until now had been an “investment” of sorts.
Created to earn Coins, to position Avatars for strategic advantage, or to gauge humanity’s potential—all without any genuine hostility.
But the Abyss that would soon arrive was different.
An Abyss brimming with malice, enmity, resentment, and hatred would emerge.
Crack!
Park Chan-woo clenched his fist.
At that moment.
Whoosh!
—Please! Save me!
—I’m not a heretic!
—Aaaahhh!
—It burns! It burns!
—Mother! Motheeer!
…Before his eyes appeared countless figures hanging from crosses, burning.
And standing before them, a holy saint in prayer—her image burned sharply into his vision.
Yet.
‘The Fallen Saint. That woman who will become humanity’s ruin—I must kill her with my own hands.’
She was no saint.
She could never be a saint.
In some ways, a threat more dangerous than Han Shin.
The Fallen Saint, Yoo Jin-seo!
Ding!
《Seventy-two hours have elapsed. The Abyss will now terminate.》
《The identities of the Avatars will be revealed!》
《Eight Avatars remain. Light pours down upon the heads of the Avatars.》
Screeeech!
Eight beams of light cascaded from the sky.
In that instant, screams erupted from all directions.
“No, no! I’m not one! I’m not an Avatar!”
“This—this is wrong! Something’s wrong!”
“Damn it! I can’t be an Avatar!”
Park Chan-woo let out a low chuckle.
They denied it all they wished, but those eight were unmistakably Avatars.
Those who had sold their souls to demons for immediate power.
He had left them alive to sound an alarm.
To show the world that more Avatars existed than expected, and to allow humanity to prepare and defend itself against the threat they posed.
‘The rest falls to the Abyss Safety Department.’
Minister Park Sang-min and Yi Hyeok-soo.
They would handle the remaining Avatars.
Not just the eight Avatars left here.
‘The Avatar Alliance. I don’t have time to deal with them personally.’
He was acutely aware of it.
The reason Han Min-o’s security detail—so many Avatars—had managed to gather.
An organization called the Avatar Alliance.
‘Parasites, every last one of them.’
Park Chan-woo clicked his tongue.
Parasites infesting every corner of the world.
They had infiltrated both politics and finance, their roots everywhere.
Organized with meticulous cell structure, rooting them out would demand far more time and effort than he could spare.
Park Chan-woo, for whom every moment was precious, could not afford to track them down one by one himself.
The Avatar Alliance had no single figurehead he could target, after all.
Their objective was simple.
To destabilize the world, reliably increase the number of Avatars, and dismantle the nation’s foundation.
To create a world of Avatars where no one needed to hold back.
‘Trust me on this.’
By now, the Abyss Safety Department should have been purged to a considerable degree.
Park Chan-woo slowly withdrew from the Abyss.
* * *
His ears itched.
‘Is someone cursing me?’
Minister Park Sang-min scratched at his ear, watching Yi Hyeok-soo seated across from him.
“Concentrating them all in one department has proven quite effective.”
“They seem to be ferreting out who among themselves is the traitor.”
Following the oracle’s counsel, they’d herded all the Avatars into a single location, and the creatures had eagerly spiraled into destruction on their own.
One damning disclosure followed another, each cascading like dominoes.
They insisted they themselves were not Avatars while accusing the others of being exactly that, attempting to sow discord.
But Minister Park Sang-min and Yi Hyeok-soo already knew: every last one of them was an Avatar.
“…The Avatar Alliance appears to be larger in scale than we initially thought.”
Minister Park Sang-min’s expression hardened as he spoke.
Under the guise of comforting them, they’d begun treading on their tails.
As a result, they’d glimpsed one facet of the Avatar Alliance rooted throughout Korea.
“Currently identified numbers exceed five thousand.”
“If five thousand have been identified, the actual count likely exceeds fifty thousand.”
Out of fifty million people, fifty thousand.
One in a thousand.
The problem was that this number continued to grow at an alarming rate.
Avatars were everywhere.
Concealed meticulously, they lurked, waiting for their moment.
Minister Park Sang-min exhaled heavily and continued.
“I heard the second son of the Han Yeon Group was attacked by some forty Avatars recently.”
“Yes, I heard they were all people employed as bodyguards.”
“Right. They can launder identities without difficulty. Good grief, where do we even begin….”
The roots ran deeper than anticipated.
If they didn’t eradicate them all at once, they’d slip away.
“Yi Hyeok-soo, do you have anyone trustworthy in your circle? Just the two of us might find this operation rather difficult.”
“…No one.”
He hadn’t held out much hope anyway.
Yi Hyeok-soo didn’t strike one as the type to be brimming with friends.
“Hmm, but why would the Avatars attack Han Min-o?”
“If multiple Avatars attacked him, the Creators must have been complicit as well.”
“The Creators would covet something…in Han Min-o?”
“Certain of it. They don’t move without profit.”
At Yi Hyeok-soo’s answer, Minister Park Sang-min rubbed his chin.
Han Min-o.
What could he possibly possess that would draw so many Avatars to assault him?
Or rather.
“…How did he even survive?”
According to intelligence gathered from the survivors, Han Min-o should have been impossible to save.
Yet he lived.
Whoosh.
Yi Hyeok-soo rose from his seat.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to meet him in person.”
“Who?”
“…Han Min-o. I’ll see with my own eyes whether he’s trustworthy.”
There was something there.
A value that would make countless Creators hunger—something Han Min-o possessed.
Yi Hyeok-soo intended to verify it himself.
And if he proved reliable, if he possessed such talent.
‘We’re short on hands.’
…Then recruiting him into the Abyss Safety Department would be one possibility.
* * *
Late into the night.
Park Chan-woo walked through the chill-cut streets.
Whistle!
Whine!
“Wow!”
“Shooting stars!”
“Beautiful.”
From the sky above, countless meteors began to fall.
People gasped at the sight.
But then.
Crash!
Crash-crash-crash!
“What—what is this!”
“They’re actually falling!”
“Insane……!”
That wonder shifted in an instant to horror.
Using the chaos as cover, Park Chan-woo walked silently toward where the stars had fallen.
And when he arrived shortly after.
‘The Black Star.’
A black star had crashed into the construction site.
At first glance, it radiated an ominous, unmistakable Mana.
…This was the Abyss.
A Creative Abyss from another world, fallen to Earth.
Something that should never have been here.
He approached the star and reached out without hesitation.
In that instant.
Ding!
《You are entering the Creative Abyss, ‘Fox Den’.》
Fox Den.
The worst Abyss humanity still could not overcome.
Yet it had to be overcome.
‘The Fallen Saint, Yoo Jin-seo.’
That woman had to be killed.
‘Yoo Jin-seo is not human.’
She wore the mask of a human, but Yoo Jin-seo was not human.
She was a fox.
More precisely, a Gumiho.

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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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