‘When will it recover?’
Grid became impatient over time. He thought the classes, titles, and skills that Berith’s distorted reality had taken away would be restored soon because the word ‘temporarily’ was mentioned, but it had been over 20 minutes. Maybe he was wrong...
The concept of time was different for each individual, so Grid was filled with tremendous anxiety.
‘For a great demon with eternal life, a human’s lifetime is a short moment.
The system was rubbish... There was a possibility that the distorted state wouldn’t be resolved. Everything he lost might not be restored. Grid had been hit in the back of the head more often than others and seriously considered it.
‘It might be better not to go back.’
The Magic Swordsman of the Epics was a class that was just growing. Nevertheless, it surpassed Pagma's Descendant, and its combat power overwhelmed that of Pagma's Descendant. Returning to Pagma's Descendant was technically going backward. The moment that Magic Swordsman of the Epics was judged as a third class again, it was possible that Grid’s Swordsmanship and the transcendent senses he gained would be sealed.
Grid was Pagma's Descendant. No, he saw himself as a blacksmith. Hundreds of thousands—no, he made countless items. Sometimes, he sold items for just a few coins. Other times, he got tangled up in hard events. Additionally, he built up many relationships. The reason he could meet Khan was that he was a blacksmith.
This one line was a shortened description of all that: the blacksmith class was Grid’s backbone. For Grid, the blacksmithing class was the most precious thing that couldn’t be taken away.
“Give it back to me...”
It was okay even if he was weakened again. He wanted it back.
“Stop playing and give it back.”
The canyon was destroyed. Surrounded by Piaro, Kraugel, Kirinus, and the dukes, the bloody Berith roared loudly and the battle intensified.
“Niyooong!” Noe cried out anxiously from where he sat on Grid’s shoulder. Overgeared Corn kept licking Grid’s cheeks with a small black tongue. While doing so, Overgeared Corn snorted with an annoyed expression. His noble and beautiful self was licking the cheeks of a male... It was a dissatisfied attitude, but he still licked Grid’s cheeks carefully. It was because Grid looked pained and lonely.
[The duration of the truth distortion is over.]
[The lost classes, titles, and skills have been restored.]
[However, since the status of Magic Swordsman of the Epics is higher than Pagma's Descendant, Grid’s Swordsmanship is kept active.]
Grid came to his senses upon seeing these messages. He had anticipated the worst, so he was filled with relief and joy. The lost powers and blessings started to rekindle in his body again. The forces he had thought he would lose were still in his body. Grid was aware of the transcendence that still remained. Magic Swordsman of the Epics returned to being the third class, but it still gave Grid a powerful force.
It was natural. His epic was what he wrote personally. It purely belonged to Grid. No one could deny it, and no one could take it away.
[You have discovered a mighty person of this era, and fighting energy has started to accumulate!]
[Every time fighting energy increases by one point, your strength, stamina, and agility will by 0.5%.]
The red-purple aura started to rise. It was the symbol of the Hero King. The former Hero King was Sword Saint Muller.
Berith’s gaze was focused on Grid through the seeds, hand plow, spears, and swords striking him. With 30% of his health left, Berith no longer looked at Piaro, the dukes, or Sword Saint Kraugel surrounding him. He appreciated the potential of Grid, who pioneered his own path while carrying the ability of the two humans that even great demons couldn’t take lightly—Pagma and Muller.
Now Grid himself was a person who attracted the aggro of a great demon. For Grid, it was bad luck. Berith emitted metal spines in every direction to shake off the people around him and formed a long blade. The blade was three kilometers long. It was enough to bridge the gap between Grid and Berith, immediately penetrating Grid’s heart. No, it was about to penetrate him.
The man who was the Master of Swiftness before he became the successor of Lantier’s techniques...
Faker, who was given a favorable assessment in ‘speed’ due to his class-specific characteristic, had evolved a notch after gaining Fly on Top of Grass. He responded to the blade that Berith fired and stepped in front of Grid, who had yet to recover enough to avoid the attack.
Berith’s blade and Faker’s dagger collided. The tip of the blade had its direction twisted subtly, and it rose into the sky instead of Grid’s heart. Faker’s body flew far away to a cliff in the canyon.
“Faker!” Grid’s astonished cry echoed through the canyon. The downside of an assassin was poor durability. In particular, it was questionable for them to fight elite monsters with high health and attack power. Additionally, Berith was a great demon. Grid saw that Faker would find it hard to survive when facing Berith’s attack.
However, Faker was surprisingly fine. The moment he struck Berith’s blade, he used Lantier’s technique. Then when he collided with the cliff, he summoned shadow soldiers to help him. Faker emerged from the dust with a calm expression and spoke to the dumbfounded Grid.
“The person who is supposed to protect you shouldn’t be weak.”
After all, Faker was someone who was acknowledged by War God Zeratul.
“Grid, I will also join the front line.”
He was only a normal class at the time when he wiped out the Ice Flower Guild.
“You focus on recovery.”
“Kill Gate Opening.”
Faker, who studied Lantier’s techniques and the shadow techniques from Kasim, was pursuing the throne of assassins.
He became a flash of light itself. Faker passed through the canyon, and Berith’s red eyes lost their focus. His spirit was dizzy, and Berith instinctively felt something. This was a crisis. It was a situation where he was on the edge of the cliff. So...
““22nd Hell Summoning.””
Berith freed all his strength. He broke the rules that the world had imposed on him. In return, the goddess of light would gnaw at his soul. It didn’t matter if the other great demons laughed at him. The humiliation of losing his body to human hands should be avoided.
[The 22nd Hell has manifested successfully.]
[The earth and the atmosphere are filled with demonic energy.]
[22nd Great Demon Berith’s stats will increase by 20%.]
[All debuffs currently applied to 22nd Great Demon Berith will be released.]
[Humans cannot adapt to the environment of hell.]
[The power of skills and magic have decreased by 30%, and casting speed has decreased by 60%.]
[Magic resistance and physical defense are reduced by 20%.]
[The natural recovery of health, mana, and stamina has become impossible.]
[Stamina will fall more quickly.]
[Potions can’t be used.]
[Creatures of the 22nd Hell will emerge!]
『 Ah, this is what happened. .』
The broadcasters and viewers who were excited about Grid stopped feeling excited. They sobered up as they watched Berith being pushed on the defensive. Berith’s health kept decreasing. The more Berith entered a new phase, the clearer the reality became. The last phase of hell summoning was imminent. It was the start of the despair they had learned from 32nd Great Demon Belial. This was the end of humanity.
Lightning struck in the sky as black ash started to spread. Between the canyons, hellfire hotter than lava poured out, and the barren land started to split apart. The ecosystem changed. The flowers on the cliff became cannibals, and the moles in the ground became as big as walls. Bizarre and ugly horses emerged through gaps in the cracked earth. At the heart of all this was Berith.
““Kukuk...! Kuhahahahat!”” Berith burst out laughing. He thought of humans as livestock and couldn’t help delighting in their fear.
『 He is very happy. 』
『 This means he can’t handle it. 』
The broadcasters and viewers were thankful to Grid, Kraugel’s group, and the dukes. Without them, Great Demon Berith would’ve trampled on humanity with a dull expression like they were ants. Yes, they had done well enough to push the great demon up to here. They were relieved when they saw Berith so happy.
The broadcasters and viewers expressed their gratitude to Grid and Kraugel. There were reports that the Overgeared Guild was at least 30 minutes away from the canyon, so they couldn’t expect a dramatic appearance of help like during the Belial raid. The audience and viewers were forced to judge that the Berith raid would end in failure. They simply wanted Grid and Kraugel’s party to minimize the damage. However, there was a reversal.
“So what if you summon hell?”
There had never been such a Berith raiding party before. No, the problem was that their power was at an all-time high, and this party could never form again. Kraugel, Piaro, Kirinus, and the dukes of the empire—they were legendary or super named NPCs and were equipped with transcendent resistance. Hell’s debuff effect wasn’t fully applied.
On the other hand, Grid... His stamina was still recovering thanks to Overgeared Corn licking him.
““T-These guys...!”” Berith showed an upset expression and formed hundreds of weapons. His stats had increased by 20%. and he showed a more dangerous atmosphere than before.
“I won’t tolerate it.”
Basara’s red energy weakened Berith’s alchemy.
“Hahaha! It has become so hard that my hands feel better.”
“Don’t be too excited.”
Grenhal and Morse’s attacks shattered Berith’s weakened alchemy.
“Let me check if your skills have died out in the meantime.”
“...You have grown a lot.”
The long-lost connection between Piaro and Rachel left a new injury on Berith’s body.
Kraugel and Faker slaughtered the beasts together and opened the path. Kirinus formed a blue light at the end of the spear and threatened Berith. All those in Kraugel’s party had the Sword Saint’s Aura buff applied to them and could be called defenders of humanity.
Berith was overcome with a strange emotion they surrounded him. This was fear. It was a feeling of weakness that a supreme predator shouldn’t feel.
The flag was finally planted. Cowards... The words that could be considered the final will of a villain popped out. Berith peeked at his approaching end, and Grid and Kraugel’s party knew the raid was a success. Then an uninvited guest appeared. He stood on a cliff, and his green hair fluttered in the strong wind.
“Lich Summon, Mumud.”
A victim who had been subjected to malice throughout his life—the losers chose to exploit him. He was once again disappointed by humans and finally became complete. The world in his vision was a stark ash gray. There were no expectations or regret.
Lich Mumud’s iridescent magic struck the raid party.
“Agnus!” Grid’s furious cry pierced the sky.