LTTH C51

Chapter 51

‘In other words, it is still evolving, is it not?’

And all according to rules I cannot begin to fathom.

“So yes, Peter is busy. The more the sanctuary expands, the more people and regions he must investigate. It will likely take quite some time. So then—let the two of us go on ahead.”

With a playful wink, Kassie tugged Hansol by the arm. As always, Hansol allowed himself to be pulled along, yet the unease gnawing at the edges of his heart refused to dissipate.

‘The system always comes hand in hand with a foreseen calamity.’

Hansol could not guess why this phenomenon Kassie called a holy ground had appeared. Yet the system had always balanced blessings with disaster, granting hunters abilities only so they might prepare for impending misfortune. If this sanctuary was vast enough to embrace an entire village, then what doom could possibly stand as its counterweight?

The end of the world? But was not this “Britain” already teetering at the brink of ruin? Or perhaps the end of mankind itself?

No answer came. And while Kassie hummed a lighthearted tune as he led the way, Hansol’s steps grew heavier with dread.

And, alas, the misfortune carried by the system did not wait long to make itself known.

“Kassie. Wait a moment.”

“Mm? Don’t tell me you dislike meat?”

It had begun pleasantly enough, following Kassie’s lead into a restaurant filled with savory scents, and even sitting before a meal already set upon the table. But the foreboding swept through him like a chill wind the instant his chain quest ended, his level rising to forty-two.

All Sacrifices of Berthel within this region have been purified.

Berthel, roused by suspicion, begins to manifest.

“……!”

‘Manifest? Did it say manifest?’

Hansol’s black eyes shook violently. A trivial prefix aside, it had said Berthel—not an avatar. He remembered vividly how, within the gate once called Berthel’s Laboratory, two hunters had been annihilated in an instant by nothing more than an avatar. And these were no ordinary hunters, but ones with levels worthy of ranker status.

If that was the devastation wrought by a mere avatar, then how could this Britain hope to withstand Berthel himself? No matter how strong its hunters, even with healers among them, it was impossible. This was no mere calamity—it was a disaster worse than a gate break.

‘Damn it all!’

“Kassie. Where is Isaac? I must see him at once.”

“Now? In the middle of a meal?”

Hansol shoved back his chair, rising in haste, while Kassie—fork only just lifted—clicked his tongue. Under ordinary circumstances Hansol might have reasoned with him. But now was no time for calm explanations. The system, usually so cruelly unkind, had been merciful enough to give a warning. Time was not on their side. To delay a single moment was to court ruin.

“Something even greater than last time—no, worse than before—will appear. Now.”

“…What did you say?”

Would his urgency reach Kassie at all? Hansol’s expression hardened, voice sharp with gravity as he continued:

“We must move at once.”

“……”

For the briefest heartbeat, Kassie’s usual easy expression lingered. Then it stiffened, and he set his utensils down upon the table. Some measure of Hansol’s desperation had struck true.

Breathing out in relief, Hansol left Kassie behind and rushed from the restaurant, sprinting toward the boundary where the village met the wasteland. If anything were to happen, it would begin there. Thankfully, the village itself remained unchanged—peaceful, familiar. They were not yet too late.

‘Did the system truly grant me an advance warning?’

Could it be so kind? The thought filled Hansol with suspicion, yet he cast another sweeping glance around. And when his gaze caught upon the white glow forming in the sky, words froze in his throat. Of course—the system had not lied.

It began as a speck, nothing more. But that tiny black dot spread in an instant. It was not a gate break. Nor the birth of a new gate. It was simply… something shaping itself out of the void. A simple phenomenon—and yet its impact was anything but simple.

The swelling darkness unfurled into a vague form, then spread outward, staining the world around it in jet black. The sanctuary remained untouched, but beyond it—no.

The outer wastes had never been fit for habitation, yet remnants of buildings and barren soil had still marked them as human lands. Now that world was being swallowed in shadow.

There was no need even to cast Purification to know. What engulfed the land was a Dark Zone—the very essence of shadow, in which not even a step ahead could be seen.

“Damn.”

A curse slipped from Hansol’s lips, but he steeled himself. The Dark Zone was grave, yes. But graver still was the thing radiating its strange aura in the sky.

“Healer.”

“…My lord Duke.”

What should be done with it? While Hansol clutched his head in thought, the rising voices of alarmed villagers carried over the din. And then—Isaac, crossing the distance in a single breath, was suddenly at his side. His gaze flickered from the spreading Dark Zone to the sky above, then held there, steady. Heavy his heart must have been, yet his face showed no change.

“Isaac.”

“…Kassie. Guard the healer first.”

Isaac gave a sharp order, already directing soldiers, hunters, and villagers into position. Kassie, his ever-playful air gone, drew his robe tight, mana crackling around him. Isaac himself hefted a greatsword as tall as his own frame, expression darker than ever before.

‘That is Berthel.’

The figure’s shape rippled like black smoke, and Hansol’s heart pounded. He tried to steady himself, but the fear of the unknown sent tremors through his body regardless. No. He could not waste precious moments trembling.

Hansol shook his head fiercely, forcing clarity upon himself.

‘What can I do, here and now?’

If Kassie and Isaac could not wound that thing, what hope had Hansol? Not yet even level fifty, his attacks could never pierce it. Offense was not the answer.

Defense—or buffs.

His black eyes darted quickly through the list. At least the system had the courtesy to divide skills under “For Hunters,” though not by class. He would have to sift them one by one.

‘Damn this unkind system.’

Could it not at least provide a search function? Who had designed this abominable interface?

He cursed it inwardly as he scrolled, frantic. Kassie’s incantations whipped the air into a storm, weapons clashed all around, and the more chaotic the field became, the more Hansol’s heart burned.

‘Please. Please…!’

He skimmed past the familiar—Heal, Regeneration, Purification—and into unfamiliar names. No time to weigh or choose. If a skill seemed unusual, he purchased it outright. To dawdle over descriptions was to risk corpses littering the ground before him. Thankfully, his points were more than sufficient to buy them all.

Skill acquired: Sacrifice.

Skill acquired: Self-Healing.

Skill acquired: Resurrection.

Skill acquired: Guardian Summon.

Skill acquired: Creation of Holy Water.

Skill acquired: Sacred Light.

…

‘They will all be needed.’

Surely the system would not offer useless skills. With that justification, he bought one after another, until more than ten had been added to his arsenal.

And just then—the bright sky dimmed. Darkness spread across the little village, though the glow of the hovering white orb and the lamplight kept it at bay. It looked almost like evening had fallen. But the atmosphere was far from peaceful.