Salvation Through Delusion C130

Chapter 130

As I followed behind him, I soon understood why he walked without hesitation. Before long, a path appeared—wooden posts driven into the ground with planks laid across them in a continuous stretch, like a bridge over a stream.

Yet it was so narrow and erratically angled that I questioned whether it could truly be called a bridge. Why build it like this?

Looking closer, I saw the posts were planted in the gaps between the black netting. The dark mesh writhed as if alive, but it didn’t seem to affect the spaces between.

Whatever the curse was, it was obvious we couldn’t touch that black net.

Creak—

When Tyroc stepped onto it, the bridge groaned. I hesitated for a moment, and his lips twisted.

“It’s sturdier than it looks.”

“Yes… looks like it wouldn’t collapse even if a monster ran across it.”

“Of course. I built it.”

My foot paused mid-step. The tools I’d seen in the cabin flashed through my mind. He built this entire bridge by himself?

Well, no one would volunteer to work in a place saturated with black magic. And with the grave lantern’s light covering only a limited area, coordinating multiple people would be difficult.

“Pretty impressive, right?”

He tossed the remark playfully and moved on. Yeah… it really was. I admitted it inwardly and followed him onto the creaking bridge.

It was only knee-high, but knowing a fall meant touching black magic—and likely the curse—made my shoulders tense. What kind of curse was it?

The answer revealed itself soon enough. The ground beneath the black mesh was barren, and large stones were scattered throughout.

Most lay stretched along the earth in shapes that didn’t resemble ordinary rocks. But in the dim light and distance, I couldn’t see clearly—until we passed one close beside the bridge.

Creak—

My step faltered backward, and the wood complained beneath me. Even if it had cursed me aloud, I wouldn’t have heard it. What I’d taken for a simple rock had form when seen up close.

“Mo… that shape…”

[Estimated to be fragments of a broken human-shaped sculpture.]

Under other circumstances, that wouldn’t have chilled me like this. But here, on land drowned in black magic? I looked ahead. Tyroc had half-turned to watch me.

“They were people who worked in the castle. Some came trying to save those already cursed.”

And all of them turned to stone. Unable to see the black net, they must have stepped on it unknowingly and transformed instantly. Tyroc glanced around and added flatly,

“By the time I obtained the grave lantern and investigated, it was already too late.”

“What do you mean, too late?”

He jerked his chin toward the stone remains.

“Everyone outside had already fallen and shattered.”

Ah… a low breath slipped from me. Even if the curse were lifted, they couldn’t return.

“What about inside the castle?”

Your family? I barely swallowed the real question.

“Better off.”

He murmured it without emotion and walked ahead again. It took quite a while to cross the bridge and reach the castle gate.

The closer we came, the more stone figures we passed. The bridge ended before the gate—it couldn’t be extended further because there was nowhere to anchor the posts. Fortunately, the gate itself was half-broken, leaving enough space to pass through.

Before entering, Tyroc lifted the grave lantern high and looked back at me. I met his gaze and answered confidently,

“I’ll watch my step.”

Reassured, he went in, moving slowly as if mindful of me. Each careful step across narrow safe spots demanded focus. Yet more than the black magic, it was the countless figures standing like statues that unsettled me.

Their final expressions were captured in stone with chilling clarity. They gave the hall the oppressive air of a horror film.

Even I, who prided myself on being fearless, felt small. Tyroc, however, walked as if on open ground, clearly accustomed to this place. After passing through the hall, he stopped at the central staircase.

He couldn’t go any farther.

Only then did I understand why. The stairs were narrow, and though the black net wasn’t densely packed, the safe footing was limited.

Tyroc tilted his head toward a figure halfway up the stairs—a woman who looked middle-aged, her expression grave, arm outstretched.

Her wrist lay broken on the steps below, as if snapped in an accident. Even if the curse were lifted… she would remain maimed.

“Pay your respects. That’s the former head of the Koon family.”

I didn’t sleep at all afterward. The visit to Koon’s inner grounds had taken less than an hour, but my mind stayed trapped there until sunrise.

I didn’t even notice dawn. A servant’s knock and inquiry about breakfast finally reminded me the living still moved about this world.

Reluctantly, I forced the thoughts aside. Tyroc had said:

“The clue to lifting the curse is in Sarne. We only need the ancient texts there.”

For now, there was nothing I could do. According to him, there would be only one chance to attempt breaking the curse. I couldn’t risk ruining it by barging in unprepared.

Even knowing how powerless I was, I left the bed and immediately sought Tyroc.

“His Grace is away.”

Rick informed me in his stead, looking oddly pale.

“Don’t tell me monsters are popping up at Crystal Lake again?”

“M-monsters?”

“They’re not exactly honored guests.”

“Well… no, it’s not monsters.”

“Then is it those sacred beast families throwing a tantrum because we took Borhumi Castle?”

Rick flinched, proving his timid nature.

“Ahem, no. Anyway, I have urgent business—ah! Why are you dragging me?!”

Because you’re clearly hiding something. I backed him into a corner and said quietly,

“Club.”

A long cudgel appeared in my hand instantly. Rick’s eyes widened in horror.

“Is that the ultimate weapon Haas talked about? Why are you taking that out?!”

“To show it off.”

I tapped it lightly against my palm.

“I’ve smashed all kinds of walls with this. Now talk. Where did His Grace go?”

Rick trembled. Only after I described the club’s accomplishments in detail did he finally answer.

“Ha… His Grace went to track Sarne’s Baiyan.”

Crunch, crunch.

Each step scattered leaves and broken twigs, announcing my presence to the forest. I was finally wandering the acorn woods I’d long wanted to explore, but the thrill was gone.

Three days had passed. Which meant Tyroc hadn’t returned for three days either. Rick’s explanation had sounded absurd at first, but now I had to take it seriously.

How did so many crises pile up at once?

After the White Branch Council ended, Hoiga apparently stormed in at dawn and cursed Tyroc loudly. Rick spared details, but it must’ve been humiliating. Now Hoiga would cling to Montaine, desperate to bring Tyroc down.

That part didn’t scare me—it almost aligned with what I wanted. But what about our troop shortage after seizing Borhumi Castle?

Dr. Kim had sent mercenaries, buying us time. Still, if Montaine and Sarne attacked together, hired blades wouldn’t hold long.

And now, to lift the curse, Sarne itself had to be confronted. The one Tyroc was chasing was Sarne’s Swordmaster—Baiyan.

It was ridiculous. Rick worried only about injuries, but what if Tyroc died? Worse, the portal routes were limited.

“More than ten days,” Rick had said. “That’s how long it’ll take.”

Damn. That meant I’d be stuck waiting. A sharp sense of urgency gripped me.

[3 o’clock direction: rock formation matching destination detected.]

Mo’s alert snapped me from my thoughts. Through the trees rose a large rock.

That reminded me why I’d come to Tubain in the first place. I needed to keep Tyroc—Earth’s so-called hope—alive.

Which meant meeting Black Bear quickly so I could contact Dr. Kim.

If necessary, sabotaging Tyroc’s meeting with Baiyan wasn’t a bad idea. Better he retreat than spark a war that let Montaine profit without lifting a finger.

Hoiga getting the last laugh was unacceptable. Yet Sarne still had to be confronted to break the curse…

Was there another way? Maybe Dr. Kim knew leverage against Sarne.

Lost in thought, I reached the destination. Up close, the towering rock felt oddly familiar, but I passed it lightly. A small cabin stood beside it.

Was Black Bear inside? I steadied my breath and moved to enter when—

“Adeye Rue. Earlier than expected.”

I turned toward the voice on my left.

“Hello—”

The greeting died in my throat when Black Bear stepped out from between the trees.

A silver-haired middle-aged woman—the same Black Bear I’d seen at Crystal Lake. Yet I froze.

“What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? You’re not alone.

Behind her stood something massive.

A real bear.

Over two meters tall. Black like her—but the proportions were wrong.

It was built like a three-headed cartoon mascot.