Chapter 86

Here is the English translation of the novel chapter, adhering strictly to the provided glossary and maintaining the original tone and style:

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### Episode 86

Hero of Sodomora

086 – Hero of Sodomora #2

The fog that had shrouded Sodomora finally cleared by the next morning. The sun rose brilliantly, casting a bright, cheerful day—so serene it was hard to believe the chaos of the previous night had even happened.

Contrary to expectations, the Cultists did not launch another attack.

We didn’t know the reason, but regardless, the city—which had been cowering in fear of the Cultists—began to regain some vitality.

Merchants returned to the streets, and carefree Children played in the Park, swinging wooden toy swords at each other.

”I am Hippolyte, daughter of Mars! Face my blade, Altair!”

”Why do I have to be Altair? I wanna be Hippolyte!”

”Idiot, you’re a boy. How can you play a girl’s role—”

At any rate, the city, which had been trembling in fear of the Cultists, was undeniably coming back to life.

From my modern sensibilities, it felt like they should’ve been more cautious for at least a few more days—maybe even a week. Letting their guard down now was dangerous.

”Yesterday feels like a lie now,” I muttered to myself.

Luna, standing beside me, picked up the conversation.

”Right? Still, I’m glad it ended without anyone getting hurt! Honestly, I didn’t think Hassan could take down a Cultist. You really stepped up, Hassan!”

”I did my best,” I said, puffing up slightly at her praise.

But if I was being honest, it wasn’t my strength that had won—just sheer, dumb luck.

Then again, survival isn’t about being the strongest—it’s about being the one who survives. So maybe I was stronger than that Schizo b*stard after all.

Hell, maybe I’m actually OP as f*ck!!

Just as I was basking in my own ego, I remembered something shameful and forced myself to speak.

”By the way… I lost the Potion you made yesterday. I tried to keep hold of it, but…”

I grimaced, recalling how the Cultist medic, Somnia, had snatched Luna’s Potion. But Luna just shook her head slowly.

”It’s fine. It was just a test batch, so it wasn’t that expensive. What matters is that we made it out alive. More importantly, Hassan—if this keeps up, you might actually make it to Gold Tier!”

”R-Really?”

The words Gold Tier flashed in my mind like a gleaming golden necklace. Honestly, it had always felt so far out of reach that I’d half given up. But now, for the first time, it seemed like a real possibility.

As we chatted and walked, Luna suddenly pointed ahead.

”Look, over there!”

Following her finger, I saw a towering statue—not quite as large as the Statue of Liberty, but still the tallest sculpture I’d seen since coming to this world.

A helmeted Goddess, shield and Longsword in hand, striding forward.

It had to be Minerva, the Goddess of wisdom and exploration.

”Why did the Minerva Guild call for you, Hassan?”

”No idea,” I admitted.

Earlier that morning, a messenger from the Minerva Guild had summoned me. When I asked why, all I got was: ”It’s confidential. Just come.”

”What do you think? Maybe they’re giving me a reward?”

”I hope so! You’ll get a big one, Hassan!”

I had taken down a Cultist, after all. Actaeon had said I’d be compensated accordingly.

Getting paid for my work? Hell yeah, this rules.

The Minerva Guild’s building was full of fascinating details. Structurally, it wasn’t much different from the Mars Guild before its destruction, but the atmosphere—the people—were completely different.

If the Mars Guild was like a labor office full of Kims, Parks, Chois, and Lees forming crews, this place felt like a government facility. Everyone moved about in neat, clean attire.

Very few wore armor—most were dressed in soft fabrics.

”Are there no Warriors here?”

”There are, but they’re not allowed inside the guild building in armor. The Minerva Guild is stricter about rules and standards.”

”Huh. Weird.”

As we walked, I noticed sidelong glances from guild members.

Given that a black-haired and pink-haired pair of irregular monsters had just walked in, it was to be expected.

”I don’t know why you’re here, but this is a sacred Shrine. You’ll need to surrender your weapons and armor,” said a Guard who approached us.

Despite calling it a sacred Shrine, she was armed with a spear, shield, and full armor. The curved breastplate suggested she was female—a rare sight for a Guard.

In fact, all the Guards here seemed to be women. Was that another rule?

I handed over my remaining Longsword and dagger (the other two had been destroyed yesterday) and removed my spider-shell armor. My body felt much lighter without it—not a bad feeling.

”You can retrieve them when you leave.”

After the stiff exchange with the female Guard, I approached what looked like a bank counter. Amid the bustling crowd, only one booth was empty—occupied by a beautiful woman with deep purple hair.

”Uh, I was told to come here for something.”

”Obviously. But our Guild has no time to deal with barbarians.”

Tch.

Just like with Daphne, Guild receptionists always treated me like dirt at first. It was enough to make a man tear up.

”No, I’m Hassan of Samaria. Someone here called for me. Maybe—”

”Hassan of Samaria… Hassan… Hassaaan? Actaeon’s—?!”

She cut me off, eyes widening.

”You should’ve led with that! Who do you want to see get fired?!”

”S-Sorry…?”

The hell? Why am I apologizing? But her intensity bulldozed right over me.

”Anyway, they’re waiting for you Underground. Head down there. And you—” she pointed at Luna, ”pink-haired girl, you stay here.”

”Hassan, guess I’m waiting here again.”

”I’ll bring you a souvenir.”

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### Underground

I’d expected the Minerva Guild’s Underground prison to be impressive, but it was disappointingly ordinary.

Just like the Mars Guild’s basement—rusty iron bars, rats scurrying through holes, squeaking. Still, the unfamiliar, oppressive atmosphere was the same everywhere.

”Friend, you’ve come.”

Actaeon, clad in a red cloak and scandalously revealing attire, greeted me with open arms.

We hadn’t met often, but every time I saw him, I couldn’t help thinking: They should’ve left him as a deer.

If a man was cursed to turn into a deer, there had to be a d*mn good reason. Not wanting to hug another dude, I pushed him back.

”So, why did you call me here?”

”Because I have something to say about the Cultist priest you subdued.”

”Subdued?”

I frowned at the word. Subdued, not killed or executed.

When I turned to look inside the cell, I nearly screamed.

There, sitting cross-legged with his arms bound behind him, was the black-armored man—Schizo.

”Holy sh*t!”

I did scream. Because what the f*ck?!

I’d stabbed this guy through the eye and into his brain. I’d even felt a little guilty and prayed for his soul. Now I just felt scammed.

How the hell is he alive?!

Was it someone else in the same armor?

My mind raced with possibilities.

”Shocking, isn’t it? We were surprised too,” Actaeon said. ”We’ve restrained him, but I thought you should know.”

”Are you sure it’s really him? Not some imposter in the same armor?”

Actaeon shook his head.

”No chance. That man’s armor is his prison. No one can remove it—not even him. He’s the same man you killed yesterday.”

”What does that even mean? Did he d*e and come back to life?”

I couldn’t wrap my head around it. How could someone I’d killed just… not be dead?

No matter how chaotic or ruleless this world was, one thing held true: stab someone in the heart, and they d*e. That’s why people valued their lives—and why Adventurers who risked theirs earned so much.

But this black-armored b*stard was cheating.

”Have you ever heard of a ‘Holy Warrior’?” Actaeon asked.

”No. What’s that?”

”It’s an old tale, but up until 30 years ago, the Gods of Hypos atop the high mountains communed often with Humans. The Holy Warriors are remnants of that era—the Gods’ cursed champions.”

I knew a little about the Gods’ champions.

The Gods of this world bestowed blessings upon those they favored. The ones they loved most became their champions, acting as their agents—essentially divine servants.

But cursed champions? That was new.

”I see you don’t understand,” Actaeon said, crossing his arms. ”The Gods don’t just bless those they love. They also curse those they despise—binding them to impossible tasks for eternity.”

Given that Actaeon himself had been cursed to lose his humanity and nearly become a deer, he probably took curses very seriously.

And me? I’d suffered the ”Terrifying Curse of Two-Year Erectile Dysfunction.” Yeah, curses were fucking scary.

”These cursed ones must live as slaves to the Gods until d*ath,” Actaeon continued. ”That’s what a Holy Warrior is. An eternal soldier in an endless war. And this man… I believe he’s Pluto’s Holy Warrior.”

”So the armor he can’t remove, the fact he won’t d*e—it’s all because of that?”

”Exactly. You catch on quick. Though returning from d*ath isn’t something even the greatest heroes can do. There must be conditions—or consequences.”

Coming from a Gold Tier Adventurer like Actaeon, it was believable. You couldn’t just d*e and revive on a whim.

”Anyway, we tried interrogating him, but he won’t talk. I thought he might open up to you. Mind if I leave you two alone?”

Alone? With Schizo?

f*ck no. Even bound, I was sure this Cultist would laser-beam my throat with his eyes.

”Just call if you need me,” Actaeon said, already walking out before I could protest.

And just like that, I was alone with an unkillable monster.

Awkward. Terrifying.

”……”

He’d always been quiet, but now he was completely silent. Was he pissed? I’d be pissed too if some guy stabbed me in the eye.

”Uh, don’t hold a grudge. You tried to k*ll me too, so you knew the risks, right?”

I babbled, afraid he’d break out and take revenge. Then—click, click—his shoulders shook.

Was he… laughing?

A soundless laugh. Creepy as hell.

He kept laughing like that for what felt like minutes.

Is his brain damaged from my dagger?

Just as I started seriously considering that, he spoke.

”…I, Schizo, am but a storyteller. I am not even worthy to tie the laces of He who is to come.”

His voice was like metal scraping stone. I had no idea what he meant.

”What? What laces?”

”You fools, slaves of the Twelve Thrones… You think our fight is hopeless. But we have seen the prophecy. Soon… very soon… cough.”

He suddenly hacked violently, as if coughing up bl**d.

”…The first d*ath took my eyes. The second, my nose. The third will take my tongue. So be it. Come.”

Splurt—

bl**d gushed from his dragon-helm. Yet he kept laughing.

”…Soon, He will descend upon this land. None shall stop Him.”

Something in his tone made my hair stand on end. I’d thought he was just a fanatic, but now… he sounded certain.

”Who’s coming? Pluto from the Underground Labyrinth?”

”The Son of d*ath… Pluto’s heir. The harbinger of a new order, ruled by chaos… You, too, are now bound to fate.”

With that cryptic metaphor, he fell silent.

I tried questioning him, even throwing pebbles into his cell, but he stayed still—like a machine powered down.

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### [Author’s Note]

Illustrator star741 has been swamped with work lately…!!!

So the full-body commission I ordered might take a while… T_T

But here’s a rough preview!!

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(End of Chapter)

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