The Successor to the Underworld Is a Cheat Player

“It’s surprising. I didn’t expect you to still be alive.”

Despite the aged and worn-out body, despite the eyes that had lost their light, he could tell.

The light beyond.

And the warm aura of sanctity.

“I wonder if it’s for the better.”

Walking through the darkness, Sein muttered to himself.

It was as if he was making noise to avoid losing his way.

“I was contemplating how to enter the Sanctuary.”

The Sanctuary of Antara.

A secret place accessible only to the worthy.

And.

Crackle!

A tomb.

Somewhere, a blue flame began to illuminate the passage.

“It used to be filled with sanctity.”

The Sanctuary was a kind of test.

To be recognized by the sleeping bishops in the Sanctuary to become the Archbishop of Antara.

Crackle!

In the end, meeting an angel was the test to qualify as an Archbishop.

Though the Sanctuary of Antara was closed, the temple, now devoid of light, still guarded the path leading here.

That was when.

Swish.

Sein’s sword was drawn, emitting light.

A place meant for peace and tranquility.

Grrrr!

A mournful, eerie sound echoed from somewhere.

“The end of days. The end.”

Sein spoke, his tongue sharp.

“Lost priests without gods.”

What he had seen upon entering Antara.

“Inflicting wounds and healing wounds.”

Snick.

Yet Sein’s lips curved into a smile.

This is the most comfortable.

“Undead in the holiest of sanctuaries.”

Grrrr!

Revealed were bodies so twisted and mangled that they were barely recognizable.

They had formed a cluster of restless spirits.

Once, they must have been priests more sacred than anyone.

But now.

“I’ll take the lead again.”

The monster to hunt.

Pash.

As the Dragon Heart activated, the saint vanished, concealing their appearance.

Slash!

Where he appeared was atop a pile of corpses.

The blade of magic, shimmering in blue, rose.

Clang!

It sliced through the mass of spirits, reducing them to ashes.

*

*

*

The slave district.

Swoosh.

Those who were once others had discreetly gathered in one spot, moving their bodies furtively.

“The stench here is unbearable.”

“I feel like throwing up.”

They couldn’t hide their discomfort upon first setting foot in the slave district.

If it weren’t for the inside-out robes, their contorted faces might have caught everyone’s attention.

“But today marks the end.”

One to two.

Two to three.

And suddenly, three had turned into twelve.

“We will purify this accursed city.”

Eyes flickered within the robes.

“Is Archbishop Gallio really here?”

“Do not call such a fiend an archbishop.”

“…I apologize.”

They walked straight, as if the slave district was nothing new to them.

The street grew even narrower.

“Our goal is three.”

The one at the front spoke.

To eliminate the fiend Gallio.

“…and to reclaim.”

The voices gradually quieted down.

Swoosh.

They were drawing their swords, one by one.

“For the final time.”

The robe slowly slipped off.

There was a distinct scar on their foreheads.

“The capture of the maiden.”

Long ago, the notorious knight order.

It was the appearance of the Order of the Iron Cross.

One couldn’t help but feel exhilarated.

If the Saint had gone a little crazier, he would have burst into laughter.

Ssaaa-!

The undead splitting under the holy, bright light incinerating them, the light flickering in the passage.

Although he thought he had suppressed it a lot.

Flicker!

In the flickering light, the Saint’s pupils and teeth were shining brightly.

One couldn’t help but feel exhilarated.

One couldn’t help but feel joy.

“Kkeu! This taste!”

The feeling of slicing through the undead with a holy aura, soaking them.

It was a moment akin to seeing a well-organized storage box.

Above all.

“Experience party.”

The special experience points given by undead monsters.

Precisely because they were once priests who had turned undead.

“There are event monsters everywhere.”

It could be said to be the best hunting ground that provided explosive experience points.

In the past, Rest was an event that was unbearably boring, but now.

“If you don’t go crazy after seeing this, you don’t deserve to play.”

It was an experience event that no gamer from South Korea, no, from around the world, could resist.

Chwaaak!

Another lich split and died.

Undead exuding even more intense morale because they were in the form of priests.

Saaah-!

One couldn’t see it with their eyes, but they could feel it.

Experience points pouring in.

And one more thing.

Saint had a special reward that others couldn’t obtain.

Ripple.

The aura that was shimmering with holy light was now dyed in black light.

The activated heart of the demon.

Chwaaah-!

It was what gave birth to the dark and dense magical aura.

The morale and magic held by the undead were distinctly different.

But the special power inherited by Sein was that of the ultimate demon.

-Albaera.

The demon who was called both the strongest demon and the final demon, Albaera, whose heart was transplanted into Sein.

Shooaah-!

A body optimized for recycling, capable of converting the morale of the undead into magic.

Keyeh-!

Killing, killing, and killing again.

Even though they were already dead, they didn’t hesitate to mutilate their corpses.

It was a frenzy.

The days when Sein lived as a powerless saint.

The fact that the world he loved so much had turned into hell.

The fact that he had to consider himself garbage to survive in a hellish prison.

And.

“Die.”

The fact that the perpetrator of all this was himself.

Drove Sein into madness.

“Dead?”

Smirking.

Sein laughed.

“Then die again.”

Muttering to himself, Sein swung his sword again and again.

Injecting vitality into his body with the Dragon Heart.

The divine power and magic that could change his temperament as desired.

If necessary.

Saaa-!

The fact that Sein could heal even the wounds inflicted by the undead was driving him into a frenzy.

The seemingly endless frenzy of Sein suddenly subsided.

A passage leading to rest.

Finally.

“We’ve arrived.”

Because they had reached the dark underground where the white light shone down.

This was the sanctuary that Antara possessed.

The tomb of the acknowledged priests and the sanctuary of the archbishops.

Also known as Angel’s Embrace.

And here.

“It’s been a while.”

There it was, the thing Sein had been carrying.

“Bastion.”

The white light coalesced into a human form.

*

*

*

Gallio was quietly kneeling in prayer.

There was no sign of worry on his face, whether he was anticipating the future ahead.

Barus, who had chosen the path of a priest, but with a shallow faith in the Angels, simply closed his eyes and followed Gallio.

As they were like that.

In an instant!

They both opened their eyes almost simultaneously.

Crack!

Their heads turned.

A white divine power began to emanate from their bodies.

“Archbishop!”

“Barus.”

They called out to each other.

They sensed something in each other’s profound divine power.

A divine power similar yet different from their own.

And where it was felt was right in Tarian.

“It’s them.”

Gallio said.

He had been preparing for this day for a long time.

Those who had followed the Angels with faith, but now that the gods had hidden their traces and faith had disappeared, the believers interpreted and proceeded according to their own wills.

“Barus!”

As Gallio shouted, Barus nodded his head.

Their hands clasped.

Swish-!

A bright light emanated from Barus and engulfed Gallio and Barus.

When the light cluster disappeared.

Whoosh!

What they faced was Tarian ablaze.

Their place, built over decades, was burning.

“Screaaaam!”

Amidst the people’s screams.

The slaves handled in Tarian were burning and dying. The priests were screaming in despair.

At that moment.

Crash!

A flash of light flickered before Barus’s eyes.

A sword embracing a white aura.

Revealing white fangs together.

“The Iron Cross!”

The cross drawn on their foreheads revealed their true identities.

Inquisitors of heresy, executioners of the temple.

“Barus.”

Galio spoke towards Barus.

Just moments ago, it was Galio who had conjured up a defensive barrier to fend off the holy storm that swept away the Iron Cross knights.

“I will take charge of this place.”

Though aged and weathered, he was a witness to the passage of time.

With an abundance of divine power, Barus was incomparable, lacking even in comparison to Galio.

Especially.

“The Iron Cross are those who are well-versed in facing off against the clergy more than anyone else.”

Their opponent was the inquisitors of heresy.

To Barus, who had never faced them before, it was clearly a daunting task.

“You know what needs to be done, don’t you?”

Barus nodded in response to Galio’s heavy voice.

“…We must find it. We must protect it at all costs.”

Galio had waited a long time.

For today, when the Saint would arrive.

Furthermore, Galio had waited a long time.

“If those two are present, the temple can rise once more.”

Another awaited presence.

At that moment.

Clang! Clang!

Blades of white light flew from all directions, illuminating the scene.

“Finally revealing yourselves, heretics.”