The Archmage’s Swordsmanship Is Too Strong - Chapter 106

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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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106
Chapter 106. The Graveyard of the Spiral Tower
***
Ninety percent of the Dekima commercialization revenue.
That single phrase, hurled from behind me, settled heavy at the tips of my fingers gripping the doorknob.
A declaration offering up ninety percent of the rights to technology that could shake the entire magical engineering landscape of South Korea—indeed, the world.
It was far more than mere financial value; it was nothing less than the most solid escalator ticket into the upper echelons of modern magical society.
“I’m not going.”
The words that crossed my lips were short and decisive. The cold metal of the doorknob pressed firmly against my palm.
“Wait, you don’t seem to understand what this means. Ninety percent, we’re talking about.”
Jung Se-hui raised her voice in exasperation. Behind me, I heard the sharp sound of her throwing off the blanket and lurching up from the sofa.
But I said nothing. Instead, I merely stared at the faint lighting at the end of the hallway beyond the half-open door.
Capital was already overflowing.
The chronological timeline of the future etched into my retinas—tracing that current, the word failure simply did not exist for me.
The graphs of skyrocketing stocks and plummeting Magic Stone prices were to me nothing more than exam papers with the answers already written in.
I had no need to grovel before men of power or wade through the nauseating mire of politics. I didn’t need to curry favor with the Association or the great guilds.
Just a few farming Gates that people didn’t even know existed—strip those clean, and I could rake in all the operating capital my plans required.
Despite the astronomical inducement, there was only one real reason I rejected Se-hui’s proposal outright.
‘The Academy.’
The moment those four letters brushed across my mind, a metallic taste bloomed in my mouth. A physiological revulsion that emanated from the entire space.
That alone was enough to bury both the justification and the material benefit of a blank check.
A memory surfaced: standing alone on the stage of a general student assembly. The arrogant gleam in the eyes of aristocratic mages.
The barbed mockery and derision that spilled from their lips.
In those gazes that laid bare their loathing as though I were a plague-stricken patient, I was cast out like a leper.
But this refusal wasn’t rooted in such petty spite.
A place that had become a puppet of corrupted power, turning its back on the very essence of magic. A tower of intellect rotting endlessly into the abyss.
I no longer had the patience to witness even a single second of the hypocritical masquerade unfolding in that grotesque nest.
Insincere smiles and pretentious academic debates paraded back and forth. All of it stank to me like the reek of a decomposing corpse.
And unless some significant branch of the timeline diverged, she would almost certainly be there.
As long as I walked those Academy grounds, an awkward encounter with her was inevitable.
Allowing fragments of the past—private, personal wreckage—to intrude upon the absolute trajectory where I must stop the Evil God Dragon and prevent the world’s destruction was sheer, unbearable waste.
Emotional disturbance clouds judgment, and clouded judgment brings death.
Besides, I had no time.
The Academy’s Global Conference brought together the most prominent figures from nations around the world for a massive two-week schedule.
I knew Se-hui’s desperate plea wasn’t mere jest, but I couldn’t squander that precious time in an inconvenient space that offered me no tangible benefit.
And Se-hui could handle it on her own just fine. That kind of woman, she could.
“I’ll wait for you!”
Her cry reached me, but my footsteps were already carrying me toward the cold corridor’s end.
***
Crack—
The dull sound of charred bone fragments shattering tore through the cavern’s silence.
I ground the skull of a burning Death Knight beneath the heel of my combat boot as it rolled toward my feet.
The hard bone crumbled to dust, and the pale blue Mana flame that had wavered within the eye sockets of the cranium flickered out weakly.
The residual Mana that rose from between the bone fragments seeped like smoke into the cold air of the underground chamber.
[The 12th Underground Floor of the Scarlet Lotus Spiral Tower has been cleared.]
[Level increased. Level 35]
A translucent System window hung in the air, obscuring my vision. I brushed it aside irritably with the back of my hand.
A vast circular underground cavity surrounded on all sides by dark crimson bricks.
Weathered torches hanging along the walls flickered eerily, stretching their shadows across the stone.
The air was saturated with the acrid stench of burning bone and the sickly smell of old blood that seemed to rise from ancient tombs.
With each breath, an unpleasant sensation pricked at the mucous membranes of my lungs, spreading through my entire body.
“With rewards like this, no one ever comes.”
I brushed away the pale bone dust clinging to my black blade. Only the clean whistle of the sword cutting through air echoed in this desolate graveyard.
This place—the Scarlet Lotus Spiral Tower—had earned a reputation among hunters worldwide as the worst wasteland.
These so-called Global Dungeons were Gates so massive and grotesquely deformed in their early manifestation that they were beyond any single nation’s ability to control.
The International Hunter Association took charge of their management and connected each country’s portals, creating a public space anyone could enter—yet the footsteps of visitors had ceased long ago.
The danger wasn’t prohibitively high, but the warped spatial coordinates meant compasses spun directionless and radios emitted nothing but static like agonized screams.
Most problematic, however, were the monsters guarding each floor.
A vicious mechanic: unless you destroyed the core in a single hit, they pulled at each other and regenerated infinitely.
An endless labyrinth and a swamp of resurrected corpses.
Despite that horrific clear time, the Experience Points and rewards from breaking through the floor were pathetic.
The efficiency fell short of even half a typical lower-tier C-Grade Gate, so hunters worldwide avoided this place entirely.
Only novice hunters lingering near the entrance of the 1st Underground Floor, grinding monster patterns and scrounging for pocket change, ever appeared here.
But they would never know.
What lay sleeping in the abyss of the 100th Underground Floor, the deepest level of this monstrously designed spiral tower.
The final piece absolutely necessary to complete Twilight.
The World Item known as the Collapse Stone lurked at the very bottom of this tomb.
“Haa.”
Still, it was tedious. I exhaled the hot breath that had pooled deep in my chest in one long, weary stream.
I raised my right hand and snapped my fingers lightly into empty air. The faint red spark of Mana that had gathered at my fingertips shattered soundlessly, drained of all force.
My Mana Core’s circuits were screaming as they exceeded their limit.
Even the trained body of a Blade Saint felt heavy as water-logged cotton, sinking with a dull ache—every muscle fiber twitching as if torn apart.
I’d burned through the entire day, skipping sleep, grinding since dawn, and yet I’d only managed to break through three floors today.
“Worst-case scenario.”
Even now, no hunter had ever recognized the tower’s true value and tunneled deep enough to reach these depths.
In this vast, humid 12th Underground Floor, there existed only scattered bone fragments, myself, and silence.
It was time to prepare for the return journey.
I shoved the blackened iron sword—its surface streaked with blood and bone dust—into the worn leather sheath on my back. The rough scrape of leather against metal echoed in the chamber.
I moved my heavy footsteps toward the return portal at the center of the floor.
A shimmering pillar of blue Mana embraced my body gently. That weightless sensation of space twisting geometrically in an instant.
As the nauseating warping of spacetime passed and my vision brightened, the Hunter Association’s common terminal lobby slowly revealed itself.
The massive terminal lobby, reminiscent of an international airport’s arrival hall, thrummed with energy.
It was crowded with multinational hunters—some returning from raids on other Global Dungeons, others preparing new expeditions.
East and West alike, they bustled about loudly, decked out in an array of magical equipment and wielding enormous greatswords.
Yet only the portal to the Scarlet Lotus Spiral Tower stood empty and silent, like a quarantine zone. I walked out alone before the abandoned gate that no one gave a second glance.
The moment I turned my weary steps toward the terminal exit, Airi flickered into my peripheral vision.
Her translucent wings hovered at the edges of my sight, scattering faint bioluminescence.
[Successor. Your current accumulated Experience Point efficiency in the Scarlet Lotus Spiral Tower is merely 5 percent compared to a standard A-Grade Dungeon.]
[This is clearly a waste of resources.]
“I know.”
[That is precisely what troubles me.]
[This behavior is uncharacteristic of you, who value only efficiency.]
[Could there be some other variable my cognition module has failed to account for?]
I pulled a canned coffee from a vending machine in the corner of the lobby. The cold touch of the metal can against my overheated palm seemed to bring a fraction of clarity.
As I cracked the tab open, a sharp hiss escaped, followed by the scent of cheap coffee.
“Right. In the previous world, I never set foot in this place, not even once, until the moment of ruin.”
[Do you truly believe in the value of obtaining the Collapse Stone?]
[Chae Ji-ung’s blueprint is also problematic.]
[My background analysis of the scan revealed far too many incomplete elements—unable to control Mana collision.]
[The weapon will fail to maintain form and collapse, dragging the user down with it. The probability approaches 87 percent.]
Airi’s voice was colder and more clipped than usual. The System projected a starkly logical and objective statistical chart across my retinas.
Probability figures blinking like red warning lights.
“I know that too.”
I drained half the canned coffee in one go. The intense bitterness of cheap caffeine washed away the metallic taste of blood that had lingered in my mouth.
The cold liquid slid down my throat and irritated my stomach.
[Why not spend that time farming higher-Grade Gates instead—ones with proven efficiency?]
“Your point is sound. Logically speaking.”
[Your agreement with my analysis seems overly indulgent today.]
[I’m beginning to worry whether an error has occurred.]
Airi’s wings trembled faintly, releasing a wave tinged with uncertainty. I tossed the empty can into a nearby trash bin with precision and stopped walking.
Even beneath the lobby’s brilliant lighting, my shadow stretched long and dark.
“That’s just how it is. When all was said and done in the previous world—when I faced death—my Level was 99, 9th Circle.”
[······Is that so?]
“The peak a mage can reach in a human body. A point where there’s nowhere left to climb, no Mana left to fill.”
Airi’s blinking faltered.
“You didn’t know?”
[I retain only the recorded data of Blade Saint Kang Tae-yoon from the previous timeline.]
[There is no data on your personal magical achievements or detailed specifications.]
“Then you know Kang Tae-yoon’s stats well enough.”
[I do. A force that has reached its physical limit.]
The automated doors of the terminal slid open left and right, and the cold night air waiting outside pierced deep into my lungs.
I gazed into the fathomless darkness beyond the lobby and spoke in a whisper.
“Even with their strength. Even if the Blade Guild—the greatest force of our time—threw hundreds of bodies at them all at once.”
In that instant, a crimson sky flickered across my mind. Enormous black scales blotting out the heavens.
One wingbeat vast enough to eclipse the sun—and entire mountain ranges were erased, our members evaporating without even a scream.
Even the magic I poured out as an Archmage scattered like fireworks against its scales. That hopeless sensation.
“I couldn’t land a blow on the Evil God Dragon. Not a single effective hit. I died a dog’s death.”
[……I see.]
Airi’s rebuttal vanished entirely. Silence filled the space between us, even the lobby’s noise seeming distant.
The Spiral Tower’s terrible inefficiency, the catastrophic risk inherent in an incomplete design.
Even knowing every one of those fatal flaws with bitter clarity, there was an absolute reason I had to repeat this irrational hunt.
“I can never defeat that monster. That’s already a proven path to failure. So now I have no choice but to stake everything I have.”
[I understand your will, Successor.]
“Right. To hunt something abnormal, I can’t walk a normal path myself.”
***
I left the public terminal and got into the parked vehicle.
An empty highway stretching toward G City.
As I cut through the desolate expanse, where not another car moved on the road, a brief vibration tone sounded from the vehicle’s speakers, connected by Bluetooth.
A name appeared on the dashboard screen.
I narrowed my eyes for a moment, then pressed the call button on the steering wheel. It was a number I couldn’t avoid—and shouldn’t try to.
“Yes, Director. Kim Do-jin speaking.”
[How have you been? I heard you cleaned up Red Blood Alliance remnants in Paju. Quite impressive.]
The voice of Ryu Gang-jin, Director of the Gate Management Bureau, came through the speaker. Beneath his hearty laughter lay his characteristic calculation and probing.
He was always a seasoned politician who hid a sharp blade behind his smile.
“Yes. I don’t expect we’ll see Red Blood Alliance in Korea for a while.”
[You’ve worked very hard. How about transferring to our power faction entirely?]
[It would be a shame to waste talent like yours rotting outside the walls. I’ll keep a recruitment slot open for you anytime.]
“Because of Bae Hyun-gyeom, I’d prefer not to.”
Ryu Gang-jin burst into laughter. It was a hearty laugh that made the speaker vibrate slightly, but I knew well his eyes were not smiling.
[If that’s the case, I’d throw him out bag and baggage whenever you wanted.]
An empty promise. Ryu Gang-jin wanted nothing more than to shuffle pieces he could control within his palm. I tightened my grip on the wheel and changed the subject.
“More importantly, what business brings a call so late? You’re not the type to ring up for pleasantries.”
Ryu Gang-jin’s hearty tone suddenly grew heavy on the other end. Tension hung in the air like freezing cold inside the vehicle.
Now it was time to get to the real matter. He paused for a moment before uttering a weighty name.
[Hong Tae-hwa. I’m talking about Tae-hwa.]
Very heavy pressure settled into the fingertips of my left hand on the wheel. Just enough not to make a sound of friction.
In the debris of that blood-soaked explosion from the aberrant Gate.
The nineteen-year-old boy whose soul I’d had to excavate from the dark beast nesting within it at the Altar of the Successor, whose neck I’d freed by shattering the Mana Choker that had strangled his mind into submission.
I remember the terror and agony glistening in that boy’s eyes.
I’d handed him over to Ryu Gang-jin’s power faction immediately.
With the protective networks of the Hunter Association or Guardians Guild, I couldn’t know when the Gate Cult or Red Blood Alliance remnants might come for him again.
The most secretive and thoroughly vetted place in South Korea—the sealed underground section of the Gate Management Bureau.
It was there that Lee Min-young’s Inspection Department audit team took him and conducted rigorous interrogation and mental contamination screening. Considerable time had passed since then.
It was time for the outline of results to come into focus, and Ryu Gang-jin’s call meant those results had been reached.
I eased off the accelerator and slowed down. The car was pulled into a dark tunnel.
Orange lights passed overhead at regular intervals.
“What became of Hong Tae-hwa?”

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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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