The Second Coming of Gluttony - Chapter 56

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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 56. Pacifying the Spirit

As Samuel had anticipated, the tomb was not hidden. They nearly passed by what appeared to be a large mound, but the guide’s practiced eye caught the telltale signs of human construction.
Though time had worn the edges smooth and woven it into the landscape, the four tunnel entrances and rusted doors they discovered circling the hillock were unmistakable proof—this was no natural rise, but a burial mound.
“Now that you mention it, something about this area does seem odd.”
The moment Ian spoke, all eyes turned toward him.
As a core member whose judgment made the expedition through the Forest of Negation possible, his words carried weight that could not be dismissed lightly. His earlier refusal to continue before the battle spoke volumes—his observations carried the gravity of life and death.
“Ah, don’t take it the wrong way. Relax your faces.”
As Ian gestured, the expedition members breathed a collective sigh of relief.
“Just… well, how do I put it. I wasn’t certain, so I was holding back from saying anything yet.”
Ian gathered his thoughts before continuing.
“Truth is, I’ve felt my chest and mind growing gradually lighter as we drew closer to this tomb. It’s as if the Forest of Negation effect is fading the nearer we get… or rather, as though the magic itself is woven in a circle around the tomb as its center.”
Paradise is a world that does not trust hunches. Where there is an effect, there must be a cause. It prefers concrete facts grounded in precise information over mere intuition or baseless speculation. For an archer to speak of such things is nearly taboo.
But Ian’s class is that of a mage. Certainly, mages maintain the principle of seeking truth just as rigorously, but they are not held to the same strict silence as archers.
Moreover, Ian is an Earthian of renowned wisdom. When he chooses to speak, there is reason behind it—at minimum, some foundation.
“Ever since learning that a tomb lay within the Forest of Negation, I’ve believed the source of the calamity occurring in this forest to be the tomb itself. I thought it was a curse given shape by terrible resentment.”
“But you said it wasn’t a curse—it was magic.”
“That’s right, Samuel. Do you happen to know whose remains rest in this tomb?”
Samuel shook his head.
“According to the Empire’s Unofficial History archived in the royal library, she was the beautiful youngest daughter of a once-noble family that had fallen into decline. And after her death, she was posthumously enshrined as a saint.”
“A saint?”
“Yes. I should clarify that the saints of that era meant something quite different from what we understand. You might say it was more symbolic in nature.”
Ian cleared his throat gently and unfolded his story with care.
“This happened centuries ago. The tomb’s occupant was an ill-fated woman sacrificed through a political marriage. Of course, such arrangements were common in those days. But the problem lay with her husband.”
“He beat her? Made her life miserable?”
Hugo asked, and Ian shook his head.
“There were no records of violence. But he had fallen gravely ill—the kind from which one does not recover.”
“So why did they marry her off to someone like that?”
“Because their interests aligned. The reason a declining family pawned off their youngest daughter is hardly mysterious, is it?”
Hugo looked genuinely bewildered.
“For their part, this provincial family sought advantage through the marriage bond. A fallen house is still a noble house. And…”
“Was the husband perhaps an only son?”
Seol Jihoo, who had been listening quietly, posed the question. Ian’s eyes widened, and a faint smile crossed his face.
“Exactly right. An only child—they must have wanted to produce an heir before it was too late, to ensure the line would not die out.”
……
“So they rushed the ceremony through, as quick as roasting beans over a flash of lightning.”
Ian’s expression grew bitter as he spoke.
“And by cruel coincidence, the moment the marriage rite concluded, the husband died suddenly. He left before the very purpose of the union—continuing the bloodline—could be fulfilled.”
“For chance, that’s remarkably cruel.”
“Hers was a life of misfortune. But what comes next—the Official History and the Unofficial History tell very different accounts.”
Ian continued his account.
“The Official History mentions it only briefly. Though she never consummated the marriage, the woman chose to follow her husband into the tomb by her own will. And the Empire, honoring her chastity and virtue, enshrined her as a saint for all to emulate.”
Hugo’s face crumpled.
“What—what do you mean? She was buried alive?”
“To put it plainly, yes.”
“Insane! How could they!”
“Don’t try to understand that era’s customs through our modern thinking. That’s what the term meant in those days.”
“But still!”
“Hugo. I agree it was inhumane, but look at our own history the same way—it’s no prettier. How do you think Paradise’s people would react if they learned of human sacrifice practiced in Earth’s ancient times?”
Ian spoke with such gravity that Hugo fell silent.
“Now, the Unofficial History tells a completely different story. Entirely different. The woman refused to enter the tomb, but her family employed forceful means to compel her. As they sealed the coffin, she resisted violently, her words and curses thick with bitterness and poison.”
Seol Jihoo furrowed his brow and asked.
“Her own family stood by and allowed this?”
“They would have. Even if only symbolically, the prestige of having produced a saint was an enormous honor to the family.”
Ian continued calmly.
“As I mentioned, I first believed the effect of this forest stemmed from the resentment of an aggrieved woman. But I was half right and half wrong. Her bitterness certainly lingered, yet her family acted with considerable deliberation.”
“By deliberation, you mean…?”
“The Official History records nothing further on this matter, but the Unofficial History adds one more line. Three months later, a renowned mage and sage of the Empire visited the forest where the couple was buried—summoned by both families.”
Seol Jihoo, his mind racing, let out a gasp of realization.
“The conversation has grown long, but now I can offer an answer. I believe the Forest of Negation Effect is Defensive Magic that this so-called sage wielded. A permanent ward meant to protect both families from the woman’s resentment.”
Ian, having spoken thus, gave a small shrug.
“If the woman negated her own resentment and achieved enlightenment, I’ll grant it was a refined magic. But I cannot say for certain—it remains only a hypothesis. However.”
Ian’s voice dropped suddenly.
“Mark this well. If my hypothesis holds even partly….”
He fixed a dark gaze upon the tomb.
“The most dangerous place in the Forest of Negation will be inside that tomb.”
A chill ran down Seol Jihoo’s spine at the ominous words, and he rubbed his forearms.
“It would be worth testing.”
Dylan, who had listened quietly until now, finally spoke.
“Let me refrain from suppressing my emotions here. If time passes and the Forest of Negation Effect does not activate, then at least we can prove one part of Ian’s hypothesis.”
Ian nodded.
“Let’s try it. But be careful.”

Even as they spent time near the tomb, the Forest of Negation Effect did not trigger. Had it been one or two people, perhaps—but several simultaneously ceasing emotional restraint without any abnormal signs appeared was a phenomenon that lent weight to Ian’s theory.
Of course, the disappearance of the Forest of Negation Effect was not unwelcome, yet after hearing Ian’s words, there was little cause for celebration either.
If this magic truly was defensive in nature, then how immense must the resentment dwelling in that tomb be?
‘Nothing is simple.’
Seol Jihoo sighed inwardly. He had not thought an expedition would be fundamentally different from anything else. He had believed it was simply a matter of traveling far, fighting monsters, discovering ruins, and returning with spoils in hand.
But the gap between expectation and reality was vast. And as if that weren’t enough, having crossed the mountain that was Lioner, an even greater crisis loomed before them. Of course, nothing catastrophic had occurred yet, but….
Seol Jihoo examined the tomb through his Nine Eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. Only the tomb itself appeared in black throughout the area. It was the second manifestation of Immediate Escape he had witnessed since his ability awakened.
“This shouldn’t be possible.”
Samuel, loitering near the tomb entrance, furrowed his brow. Cho Hong approached.
“What shouldn’t be possible?”
“The entrance.”
“The entrance?”
“There are traces.”
“Well then, what kind of traces?”
As Cho Hong’s irritation flared, Samuel smacked his lips. His expression was somewhat vacant.
“It looks like Kan’s Team found this tomb too.”
“Huh?”
“I’m sure of it. The marks match what I saw on the way here.”
“Wait, hold on.”
Cho Hong called the members of the Expedition Team. Once everyone assembled, Samuel began his explanation.
“There are traces of them entering and leaving both. The difference is that when they left, they were in a terrible hurry—as if they’d been driven out. It looks like they fled for their lives, scattering in all directions.”
“That’s strange.”
Dylan, having made his own verification, bore an unmistakably puzzled expression.
“Unless I’m mistaken, Lioner wasn’t carrying Kan’s weapon?”
He wasn’t mistaken. The weapons collected after the battle sat intact in the porters’ pack.
“But Kan’s Team found the tomb, went inside, were driven out by something, and scattered fleeing in panic. They weren’t killed by Lioner?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible they were hunted down one by one, but… I’m at a loss. Something doesn’t add up. The sequence feels broken somehow.”
Samuel pressed his temple as if his head ached. He exhaled sharply, then muttered as if resigned to it.
“We won’t figure anything out sitting here puzzling over it. Let’s just go in.”
Dylan did not seem eager, but he voiced no objection. With the information available reaching its limits, the only path forward was to confront the matter directly.
“We need to reorganize our formation. Cho Hong and Hugo at the vanguard.”
“Wait a moment.”
Seol Jihoo raised his hand. Samuel had suggested going inside first, but it was something that absolutely could not be allowed.
Though the words were cut off, Samuel showed no particular displeasure.
“Seol? What’s wrong?”
“We can’t go in like this.”
“We can’t?”
At eyes demanding explanation, Seol Jihoo opened his mouth.
“Well… a tomb is a place where the dead rest, isn’t it?”
“That much is true.”
“And this is already the tomb of a woman filled with resentment, buried alive. If we just barge in uninvited and try to steal her burial goods, won’t she be furious?”
It was a valid point, in its way. But nothing more than that.
“So you’re saying we shouldn’t grave rob this tomb for moral reasons?”
Seol Jihoo felt his words catch in his throat. He had raised an objection without a clear argument, and thinking it through himself, his reasoning seemed thin. After all, wasn’t the Expedition Team established specifically for grave robbing? If he had misgivings, he should have stayed behind from the start.
“That’s not it….”
But there was no way to reveal the existence of the Nine Eyes.
“That’s not it? It’s fine, so speak freely. You’re part of the Expedition Team now.”
The only reason Heather was even listening to him at all was because of the achievements Seol Jihoo had demonstrated in combat against Lioner’s faction. But to overturn Heather’s position, he needed a legitimate reason.
‘What should I do?’
In the moment of his deliberation, the existence of a single object flashed through his mind like a ray of light.
“Give me ten minutes. No—five. There’s something I want to try.”
“Five minutes isn’t difficult. But what are you going to do?”
Seol Jihoo answered not with words but by pulling the bag slung across his shoulder. He’d handed off the porter’s bag long ago, but he always carried his own.
“Ian, would you happen to have a spare sheet of paper?”
“Hm? Here you go.”
As Seol Jihoo rummaged through his bag, Ian quickly produced a sheet and handed it over. The way he watched—curious about what this Level 1 warrior would manage next—his expression was openly intrigued.
“Found it.”
Seol Jihoo then produced a long pen.
“Oh!”
Grace pointed at the pen and gasped.
“There it is! Wait, didn’t you get that from the Tutorial?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Because I pulled one too during a treasure hunt. A SPECIAL item. Right?”
“That’s right.”
“Wow, it’s been forever since I saw one of these.”
As Grace marveled, Cho Hong asked a question.
“What is that thing?”
“Oh, it’s called the Stream of Consciousness Quill. You can pull it from the lottery machine if you’re lucky. It costs three hundred coins.”
“What effect does it have?”
“Hmm, basically it writes out and shows you the stream of consciousness of whatever target you want.”
“…So how did you use it?”
Cho Hong’s expression remained confused. Grace giggled.
“I used it after entering the Neutral Zone. There was this man who’d been with me since the Tutorial, and I was curious why he kept looking after me.”
“And? What did you find?”
“Exactly what you’d expect. It was a sight. Kill for that body, want to grab that ass, dying to take her right now, should I just force her, and so on.”
At Grace’s blunt words, Samuel coughed loudly. Cho Hong let out a soft laugh.
“Pfft. Lucky you filtered him out before anything happened.”
Grace tilted her head.
“Huh?”
“…What? You didn’t break up with him even after seeing that?”
“Nope. I just went along with it naturally.”
Grace spoke with such innocence that both Cho Hong and Hugo stared at her in disbelief, prompting her to grumble.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Sexual preference is sexual preference. Show some respect.”
“Stop lying!”
Samuel suddenly erupted in anger.
“I was the one who got it! I was sleeping when you climbed onto the bed like a cat and—!”
“Heh. But what that Stream of Consciousness Quill showed of your mind was the truth, wasn’t it?”
“Ugh!”
Watching Samuel tremble, Grace snickered.
“You dummy. That’s why you should’ve made your move faster. Even though I kept sending signals and you were too dense to catch them, I had to take matters into my own hands in the end.”
“Come on, let’s drop it. We’re in the middle of an expedition. Save the lover’s quarrel for after, and let’s read the mood here.”
Dylan stepped in to clear the air. Samuel turned his head away, and Grace stuck her tongue out.
“How did you use the Stream of Consciousness Quill?”
At Seol Jihoo’s question, Grace propped her chin on her index finger and rolled her eyes thoughtfully.
“Probably tied it to Samuel’s hair? He had long hair back then, so getting a strand or two was no trouble at all.”
‘Hair.’
Seol Jihoo looked around. Grass growing thickly over the tomb caught his eye.
‘Can that be considered part of the tomb?’
Better to try than regret. He reached out and snapped off a single blade of grass, then tied it firmly to the quill. When he gently placed it on the paper Ian had given him, the quill began to vibrate on its own, remarkably.
“Using the Stream of Consciousness Quill to uncover the thoughts of the tomb’s owner… Hah. This fellow is genuinely interesting.”
Ian, impressed, stared downward. But he wasn’t alone—the entire Expedition Team had their attention fixed on the quill and the paper.
Then.
Without anyone touching it, the quill suddenly sprang upright. It then began scrawling frantically across the paper as if possessed. Everyone’s heads gathered toward the page.
‘Let me see.’
A moment later.
Seol Jihoo’s face turned rigid with dread as he read the first line.
Scratch-scratch, tear-tear, scratch-scratch, tear-tear, scratch-scratch, tear-tear, scratch-scratch, tear-tear.

— Come again, I’ll kill you, kill you, hehehehe, I want to kill, hehehehehehe
It’s so unfair, so infuriating, why do I resent you, I hate you, I loathe you, I despise you, I’ll curse you
I want to shred you to pieces, I want to gouge out your eyes, crush them, make them burst, kill you, kill you!
Yes, when you come in I’ll kill you, kehehehe, I’ll kill you, kehehehe, I’ll kill you, hehehehehehe!

Scratch-scratch, tear-tear, scratch-scratch, tear-tear, scratch-scratch, tear-tear, scratch-scratch, tear-tear.

(To be continued in the next installment)

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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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