Chapter 221: Chapter 221

Transcendentals referred to mages who were seven-circle and higher, or warriors who had reached seven-star Prime or higher. They were beings who had surpassed human limits—supreme existences beyond the realm of humanity. To them, slaughtering tens of thousands of people or erasing an entire city was not a difficult task.

But for such beings, there was one curse they could never escape: boredom.

“When is this going to end?”

A man wearing a bucket for a hat, a middle-aged man with a straight mustache, and a seductive beauty with a butterfly tattoo on her collarbone sat together at the same table. They didn’t seem to belong together, yet all three were fixated on one thing: the table where Keter and Ivan were talking.

“That Keter guy... He doesn’t stay still for a single moment.”

Like the bucket-hatted man said, Keter was always moving, even when he wasn’t talking. However, those around him didn’t seem to care, as if they couldn’t see. And indeed, they could not.

Keter and Ivan had met in a crowded cafe. Under normal circumstances, there was no way they could carry on secret discussions here, but it was possible with magic. There was actually a barrier that distorted perception and blocked sound around them, rendering Keter and Ivan invisible and inaudible to ordinary eyes and ears.

“Ivan almost looks giddy,” the butterfly woman remarked.

Mario, the mustached man, stroked his mustache and grumbled, “That should’ve been my seat... Tsk!”

Though reluctant, the three Transcendentals stayed put.

Transcendentals were basically no longer human. Their spirits were stronger than their bodies, so they could halt their own aging. This meant that they could become immortal if they wanted to. Of course, most chose immortality. They stopped their aging and even regained their youth.

However, infinite time also meant infinite boredom. They had so much time even after doing everything there was to do. In the end, there was nothing left but monotony.

They couldn’t even find joy in battle. To find them enjoyable, they had to go against another Transcendental, but such battles could never be half-hearted. One side always perished, and along the way, a mountain or a city might vanish without a trace. And since Transcendentals also awakened naturally to the Law of Causality, they restrained themselves.

Thus, boredom was inevitable, which was why, whenever something interesting appeared, they obsessed over it. Right now, Keter was what they were obsessed with—he gave them the entertainment and stimulation they craved.

As soon as Keter and Ivan stood up, the butterfly woman jumped to her feet as well. Keter left immediately, but not before shooting a wink toward the shadows, a clear sign that he knew they were watching.

“Eh? Is he trying to seduce me? Cute little thing,” the butterfly woman licked her lips, ready to chase after him.

Mario blocked her path with an arm and said, “He doesn’t know your faces. He winked at me. And have some decency, old hag—go seduce someone your own age.”

“Ohoho! We haven’t seen each other in a while, Mario. You’ve grown quite reckless, haven’t you?”

Scales of bright yellow began to spread across her skin, while Mario’s aura surged in defiance. Before it could escalate, the bucket-hatted man stomped lightly.

A simple stomp was enough to halt her transformation and stop Mario’s aura.

“Should we really just let Keter walk away?” the bucket-hatted man asked, changing the subject.

“If not, what then? Drag him back for a drink? Honestly, I think it’s a good idea.”

“You also suspect him of being a regressor, don’t you?” Mario countered.

The bucket-hatted man stroked his chin and said, “he doesn’t feel like a regressor, but the way events are unfolding, it all seems inevitable. The urge to interrogate him is... strong.”

“I barely managed to talk Ivan down. Even if he really is a regressor, now is not the time to provoke him,” Mario replied.

“Why not? If it’s the Special Task Force you fear, we need only seize him before they act. Once he’s in our sanctuary, not even the Special Task Force—or anyone else—could touch us.”

“Your senses must be dulling. You’re staring at a tree and missing the forest.”

Just then, Ivan joined their table. All three turned toward him.

“Think he’s a regressor?”

“Looked like you even had a private chat. What did you talk about?”

Ivan hesitated under the barrage of questions, then smirked faintly.

“Ivan. Does this look like the time for games?” Mario pressed.

“Do I look like the type who plays games?” Ivan retorted.

“Come now, if you won’t tell Mario, at least share with us, your colleagues,” the bucket-hatted man coaxed.

The bucket-hatted man and the butterfly woman had been Ivan’s closest allies. But Ivan’s next words made even their faces sour.

“What was spoken here will be revealed to no one. That was Keter’s condition. Surely you wouldn’t have me break my word?”

“Keter even made you swear? Why agree to that?”

“Because there was reason to.”

The three were left burning with curiosity. Ivan laughed at their expressions.

“In that case, we’ll just have to question Keter directly,” the bucket-hatted man said to Ivan.

“Do as you please. But can you handle the person behind Keter?”

“You put too much stock in the Special Task Force.”

“It’s not just the Special Task Force.”

Not just the Special Task Force? Check latest chapters at Nov3lFɪre.ɴet

Even having their support alone already makes him exceptional, but the fact that there was another power behind him as well was enough to shock the three of them.

“Lord Eslow owes Keter a debt. His son, Ryze was born with Extreme Mana Overload Syndrome, but Keter cured him.”

“Troublesome indeed.”

The two men frowned, but the butterfly woman scoffed.

“Eslow? Let him come. I’ve wanted to fight him once.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Ivan said.

“What, more noble families? Sefira or some such? I don’t care who it...”

“The Godfather of Liqueur.”

The bucket-hatted man froze. His face wasn’t visible, but it was clear how he felt.

“Keter has the Godfather’s support?”

“If so... then his unmatched archery, Sefira’s revival, and the Special Task Force’s cooperation all make sense.”

“You’re not just making this up to scare us?” the butterfly woman sneered.

But Ivan spoke calmly, as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders.

“Believe what you want. As a fellow member, I’m only offering advice.”

“You mean not to cross Keter.”

“I could never say something like that to you, but...” Ivan recalled his conversation with Keter and continued, “...be prepared. He’s a bigger lunatic than you think.”

On the way to his next destination after acquiring Orphe’s Mask, Keter came to an abrupt stop on a hill overlooking the vast plains.

“Hm. No one’s following me.”

He thought either the Syndicate or the Special Task Force would tail him, but surprisingly, they hadn’t.

“Anyway, Ivan really was someone I couldn’t let my guard down around.”

The tension in his face was still lingering from maintaining a poker face.

As he massaged his cheeks, he said to Six, “Is anyone following us?”

It was an open plain with nowhere to hide, and they were looking down from above. Physically, it should be impossible to hide. However, Ivan was a mage; even if it wasn’t his specialty, he should at least be able to use invisibility and presence-erasing magic. And the Syndicate was full of all sorts of gifted individuals and Transcendentals, so there was no guarantee they didn’t have someone specialized in stealth.

Of course, Keter wasn’t careless enough to be easily tracked, either. From the moment they left the city until now, he had been sending waves of mana pulsing outward, covering a full kilometer radius. No matter what kind of concealment—physical, magical, or incantation—he would detect it.

The downside is that it burns through mana like crazy...

That was why he stopped the detection now and asked Six instead.

Six hesitated briefly, then said, “There are no living beings following us.”

“None of those either.”

“Good. That’s enough.”

If there was a Transcendental skilled enough to tail him without being detected by either him or Six, being cautious wouldn’t help anyway. Plus, he was already acting with that possibility in mind.

The treasure I’m going after this time can’t be one of Ivan’s traps.

The fact that one of the treasures had been a Syndicate trap still nagged at him, but that just made it fun, like trying to deduce which part was the trap.

“Let’s get moving again, Six.”

After confirming they weren’t being followed, they ran nonstop until they reached a mining town called Luta, perched on the far western cliffs above the sea.

This was where he would find the third and final treasure. The first treasure had been the sticker magic for Sefira, the second Orphe’s Mask to counter the princess’ Charm, and the last would be the Oath of Death, his trump card to save his life.

Hyperion... If I want to take down that monster I can’t handle yet, I’ll need at least some gear on my side.

Hyperion was the successor of the Fist Emperor. In Keter’s past life, Hyperion had sought him out and challenged him, and Keter had lost. Back then, Hyperion was already an eight-star Irregular. Keter had only just reached seven-star at the time, so he never stood a chance.

And it wasn’t just a difference in rank; Hyperion was brutally tough. He never dodged or defended; he just took every attack head-on, charging straight at his opponent. There were no mind games or hesitation—just a direct charge and a crushing punch. It was simplistic but terrifyingly effective. He was so resilient that even when he seemed injured, he would recover instantly, faster than a troll.

Keter could still remember Hyperion’s mocking words from back then.

“Is that all you’ve got? Archery isn’t anything special.”

Annoying as it was, Keter admitted it: at the time, no matter what he tried, he couldn’t have beaten him.

But this time will be different, damn bastard. You used me as training? And said my archery isn’t anything special?

Even back then, Keter had vowed to return one day and pay Hyperion back, though he never got the chance after losing to Deyal. But in this life, it would be the opposite: this time, he would use Hyperion as training.

I’m different from you, Hyperion. You’re a cheapskate who came to fight me after reaching eight-star. I won’t stoop to your level.

Hyperion should be around six-star Grandmaster now, or maybe the early stages of seven-star Prime. Keter, on the other hand, was only at the edge of five-star Master. By rank alone, his odds of winning were slim. However...

That’s exactly why he’s worth defeating.

Defeating him now would let Keter not only avenge the contempt Hyperion had shown him in his past life, but also drive his own growth through Survival of the Fittest.

The tournament had only required him to be around five-star level, but now he needed to accelerate his growth. He had just been standing face-to-face with seven-star Transcendentals. Right now, they were merely watching because of the presence of the Special Task Force and the Godfather, but that wouldn’t last forever. There was no guarantee the noble families would keep playing nice either.

In the end, what he needed was power. Confidence without strength was nothing but a clown’s act.

I’ll bring you down, student of the Fist Emperor.

Of course, he wasn’t about to run off and pick a fight immediately. Hyperion was too strong for that. Unlike the Sword of the South Tournament, this fight couldn’t be taken lightly; he would have to throw everything into it. And Keter firmly believed that using good equipment was part of one’s strength.

He would obviously use Amaranth and White Cloud, and one last piece: the artifact known as Oath of Death.

“Amaranth... it’s been a while since you’ve had the chance to shine. Time for the Marksman of the Demon Arrow to take the stage.”

Keter tried talking to Amaranth for the first time in ages, but it stayed silent.

Maybe he’s sulking from being ignored.

He slapped the arm where Amaranth was embedded.

It was vibrating and telling him to stop, so at least it was alive.

Leaving the sulking Amaranth be, Keter entered the mining town of Luta. If his memory was right, the artifact Oath of Death was a pair of earrings, slumbering in a dungeon here.

Perfect warm-up before taking on the Fist Emperor’s student.

And guarding them would be A-tier monsters: rock ants, lurking in their colony beneath the mines.