Chapter 183: Chapter 183

The spear pierced through the former lord’s groin and skewered his entrails.

Then, his skull shattered like tearing thin parchment. The spear quivered as it got embedded in the ceiling. A choked scream, still half-trapped in his throat, gushed out along with a spray of blood. Dirty blood and brain matter burst in all directions in a muted explosion. The lord died without even drawing a proper breath, his soft eyeballs bulging outward from the force.

The long spear withdrew back into the earth. His body, which had been hoisted like meat on a skewer, thudded to the floor.

It was over in a blink, too sudden to seem real. Even the direction of the attack was bizarre.

Knowledge from Lady Succubus’s library resurfaced in my mind.

If one’s mastery improves enough… they say you can even move faster underground than on the surface…

It was a rare technique. Even while accompanying the Demon Kings’ army, I had never seen anyone use it. I never expected I’d encounter such an elite spell in a rural city .

As expected, no reaction registered on my skill. Realizing that a spear could burst forth from beneath my feet made me want to stand on the ceiling instead. Tensing fully, I braced myself for the next strike. I had no idea when or from where the next attack would come, or how fast it would be.

However, there was no follow-up.

Instead, a voice, cold as ice, rose from the floor beneath me.

"Really now… After we went through all the trouble to seat you properly. There ought to be a limit to incompetence."

A clear woman’s voice resonated from directly between my legs. The location was unmistakable.

The enemy was clearly caught off guard. I’d never get an easy shot at a defenseless Batra caster again

My longsword vibrated with aura. The course of action was clear.

Without hesitation, I drove it into the hardened, frozen floor. I didn’t care about leaving Malphas’s brand or whatever else. The longsword from the inner citadel flared with a crimson blaze as it plunged deep into the ground.

I clenched my teeth. Driving the blade deep into the solid earth, I slashed fiercely in four directions—up, down, left, and right. Wind and fire entwined one another, erupting atop the bluish aura of the blade.

The frozen ground exploded, scattering debris in every direction. I felt a satisfying catch at the tip of the blade.

That should’ve killed them.

The spellcaster had to be burned alive. When facing an enemy who used Earth-Walking, one had to burn the floor to kill them—at least according to the books in Lady Succubus’s library.

A bell chime sounded as a translucent system message appeared.

However, there was no such message. No notification of earned experience either. They hadn’t died.

[Warning! Weapon durability has dropped below 50%!]

My sword was visibly damaged. Nicks ran from the tip down toward the hilt. The poorly made sword had been forced to handle an aura it couldn’t withstand, after all.

I glanced around, but no weapons were in sight.

Should I have stopped by Grassmere first?

Regret settled in for not bringing one of the greatswords from Grassmere. I knew the storage’s location. The door could’ve been sliced open with my aura. Even grabbing a moderately enchanted blade from Erast’s inner citadel would’ve been better.

I’d gotten complacent. Benson Pretcher and the crossbowman were so weak that I got careless. I’d assumed that because I’d crushed repeated threats before, whatever followed would be just as trivial. Believing I only needed to interrogate Kirk, I’d brought a random sword.

That was my mistake, and now I loathed myself for it.

Still, the fire I’d driven into the ground wasn’t without effect.

I couldn’t tell where it fell from, but a scorched white mask hit the ground. Black antlers, drawn like a joke, curled out from both sides of the mask.

A figure wearing a similar mask appeared in midair. Beneath the mask, shadows seemed to swirl and fall. With her arrival, the torches dimly lighting the prison extinguished all at once.

Five more masked figures appeared on all sides, front, back, left, right. Six against one. Not a single one looked like an easy target. They hadn’t even triggered my detection skill.

Murky drops of blood, likely Kirk’s, fell beneath the lead woman’s feet. There was no need to ask who these people were.

The Ghosts of the Empire. In my first life, I didn’t even know they existed. I hadn’t heard about them from Lady Succubus, nor read about them anywhere. All I knew was that they surveilled everyone for the emperor and killed without hesitation.

They were stronger than the so-called imperial guards tasked with public protection. Honor, pride, dignity meant nothing to them. They took on the Empire’s most dangerous and vile assignments.

One did not simply encounter them. Even I only crossed blades with them after my tenth regression. It took the suspicion of impersonating Marquis Leandro to finally face them.

In this life, I had thought I could run into them someday.

But today? Right here?

Erast was a small southern city. No famous products, no notable figures.

Why? Why would the ghosts, whose strength rivaled the command of the imperial knights, appear in such a miserable backwater?

No one had rebelled against the Empire. The ousted Kirk was certainly not important enough to prompt immediate deployment. If he were, they wouldn’t have let him die like that. Nothing made sense.

Why here… of all places?

But I had no time to ponder. The net was closing in. Fighting would mean defeat.

The ghost slowly tilted the eerie white mask etched with three splitting scars. "Strange. Is this not our first time seeing each other?"

"What are you talking about?"

If I fought, I’d die. No chance of victory. My weapon was a wreck. Even if I had my greatsword, escaping would be impossible. There was no reason to clash.

Without a doubt… These were leagues above the ones I faced at Grassmere.

Then better to learn something before dying.

If they didn’t attack, I wouldn’t either.

"Yes… He doesn’t seem that surprised."

A low voice seeped out from the other masks.

"The messages written in the secret imperial archive are true? That’s shocking."

"That policy of placing directorate candidates in the countryside before promotion… I thought it was some sick joke."

"Turns out something did show up."

"They said to be more careful during the week of Sardia, and that started yesterday."

Imperial… secret archives? Directorate candidate?

They were watching me like an experiment.

"Care to explain in a way I might actually understand?"

Of course they ignored me. All six masks simply held their ground to prevent my escape. No opening to slip through. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ Novᴇl_Fire(.)net

"Per protocol, you will be eliminated."

Six weapons aimed at me simultaneously. The metallic hum of air splitting felt cold and precise.

I had to activate the skill now. The odds of surviving even during its active period were slim. Still, I was absolutely certain that if the effect ended, I would die.

[You may move at 400% speed for 20 minutes!]

[Time until next activation: 50:00]

[Daily uses remaining: 2/3]

The masked ghost on the left swung a massive sword in a wide arc.

Had I not used Sprint, I wouldn’t have dodged it. The floor shattered, dirt and stone scattering. From the opposite side, a silver spear flew toward me.

I grabbed it midair. It was too fast and too heavy—not something one could easily catch. The steel gauntlet shredded upon contact.

Nevertheless, it was enough.

Freeze. Dual Casting.Thunder Strike.

Electricity burst from the now frozen spear, bright yellow sparks flying.

The wielder twitched and groaned, loosening their grip slightly.

I spun, wrestling the spear free. Reversing it, I tried to drive it into the original wielder. Three blades slashed toward me at once.

"Do you think that would work on us?"

I barely blocked two. My footing buckled from the impact. The third sword swung down. That final strike carried tremendous spin.

Both gauntlets shattered. White bone peeked out from between the fragments.

The ghosts didn’t flinch at the sight of my exposed bones. Nor did they press forward recklessly. The difference in power was clear.

I stumbled back, armor dented and warped from the earlier blows.

Even this isn’t enough.

There was no hope. No aid would come. The people of Rubia’s world, who’d tried to help her just hours ago, weren’t part of this hidden world.

This was mine to fight. If not now, then next time. If not then, next life. Balancing precariously, I leaned against the wall and scanned my surroundings. That last assault wasn’t mere simultaneous strikes, it was a refined, coordinated technique honed over countless years. No hope of finding an opening.

"Ghosts, is it? When did you start following me?"

"Well, well… You do know us. Just what are you?"

"Per the archive protocol, we’re to kill first and never ask questions."

No way out. But maybe, just maybe, I could learn something before dying.

"Was it you who made Kirk the lord of Erast?"

They only responded with steel.

Blocking the blow, I barely turned in time to see a spinning spear crash toward my helm. It pierced my arm, ignoring my grip.

That one’s the leader.

The woman in the cracked mask, her spearwork was a class above. The spear embedded between my bones felt icy cold.

There was no time left. I wouldn’t be the only one to die. I didn’t know what they wanted from Rubia. Even if I died, I had to resist and gather as much information as possible. I thought of the man the ghosts feared the most, the one who killed me in a past life.

"Don’t touch me… I’m acting under the direct orders of His Grace, the Duke."