The Gods’ Gacha Game: Return of the God-King

Chapter 102: A Target to Protect



Chapter 102: A Target to Protect

The City of Saharan was quite large for a medieval settlement, its streets lined with rows of two-story buildings made of sandstone. From the scale alone, it likely housed no fewer than ten thousand people. It was the biggest and only human settlement I’d seen so far in the scenarios as a divine warrior.

Through scattered conversations overheard in taverns and whispers from soldiers and merchants, I pieced together what little I could. The figure most often spoken of as someone worth protecting was Prince Homuraz—better known as the Desert Prince. He was the lord of this city as well as the second prince of the Kingdom of Solarys, and his name still carried weight among the people, spoken with both reverence and caution. If anyone in Saharan fit the role of a scenario’s target, it was most likely him.

Yet the situation was complicated. The city was under occupation by the Templars of the neighboring Holy Kingdom in the eastern plains for the past two weeks. Their banners hung from the gatehouses and draped across the main square, while their soldiers marched in tight formations through the streets. A strict curfew had been imposed, and the citizens moved with hushed voices, eyes lowered, resentment carefully hidden behind silence.

The reason for the occupation, however, remained unclear. Some claimed that Prince Homuraz was being held as a hostage, a political tool meant to pressure the Kingdom of Solarys. Others whispered of a different motive—that the Templars were searching for something, or someone, and had locked down the city to ensure nothing escaped their grasp. Whatever the truth, information was scarce, and fear kept the people from speaking openly.

I blended into the flow of the crowd, my cursed cloak masking my presence from people’s eyes. With every turn, I noted patrol routes, the position of watchtowers, and the checkpoints set at every major street. Although the Templars had locked down Saharan tightly, making it nearly impossible to move freely without raising suspicion, one detail stood out to me: their numbers were fewer than two hundred.

Granted, every one of them was a Gimmel-rank knight, level eighty and above, but for such a small force to conquer and hold a city of ten thousand, whose defenders could have easily doubled or tripled their number, felt implausible. It was as if someone from within had opened the gates and allowed them to take control, letting them pursue whatever hidden purpose brought them here.

Still, after confirming with the others through the comm-link, I learned further that Prince Homuraz was being held under “protective custody” within his own palace. The estate was heavily guarded by the Templars, their leader included. For some reason, I had an inkling that he was secretly collaborating with the occupiers to maintain his power or for other benefits.

This uncertainty only made this whole situation even weirder. If Homuraz was indeed the target, then protecting him wouldn’t simply mean defending his life. We would first need to uncover the truth. Was he truly innocent, or part of the deception hinted at in the scenario’s description?

Of course, there was an easy solution. Kidnapping Homuraz and smuggling him out of the city would technically fulfill the condition. The scenario never stated we had to protect the target according to their will. No doubt, this was how most divine warriors had cleared the seventh scenario in the past.

But even as the thought crossed my mind, my hunch was telling me something else.

“No… I’m missing a piece,” I muttered. “Homuraz is very likely not the true target.”

It felt as though Homuraz’s presence was nothing more than bait—meant to mislead divine warriors into chasing the obvious target by standing out like a sore thumb. Most would probably accept it without question and follow the scenario’s ploy, but I wasn’t someone who would cave in without first uncovering the truth.

I exhaled slowly, just as my comm-link buzzed faintly in my ear. The others had likely gathered their own information. It was time to regroup and piece everything together.

Our meeting point was the same alley we had used after scaling the wall. Keeping my hood low, I moved swiftly through the streets. The city was quieter here, yet Templar patrols still marched in regular intervals, looking left and right, as though they were searching for something. I kept to the shadows, my cursed coat muffling my presence as I slipped from corner to corner.

At the end of one street, I spotted Tuilë leaning casually against a wall, waving as soon as her eyes met mine. A few steps away, Lucian stood with his arms folded, his usual scowl plastered across his face as if the entire world had personally offended him. I adjusted my pace, heading toward them—when suddenly, a cloaked figure brushed against my shoulder. The cursed coat had muted me so well that they hadn’t noticed me until it was too late.

The collision was brief, yet enough to set off alarms in my mind. The way the figure moved, deliberately avoiding my gaze… this wasn’t some careless passerby. My heart skipped for a beat before recognition struck.

That figure… Could it be? No, more than that, I realized what this implied.

Without hesitation, I spun on my heel and caught their wrist. “Wait!”

Strangely, the wrist I thought I had firmly in my grasp vanished in the next instant, slipping through my fingers like mist. The hooded figure was suddenly several meters away, already darting into the narrow backstreets. Was it just my imagination playing tricks at me?

“Maxim?” Tuilë called after me in confusion, but I didn’t answer. My legs were already in motion, boots striking against stone as I gave chase. The figure ran swiftly, weaving through the alleys with familiarity, their cloak snapping in the night air.

When I turned a sharp corner where they had just vanished, I immediately halted; the figure had disappeared. Impossible… Even without using my movement skills, I’ve been running at full speed. There’s no way they disappeared so quickly, I thought with a frown.

“Tch…” I clenched my jaw and activated Mana Sense.

A ripple of awareness spread outward, brushing over buildings, alleys, and distant patrols. Faint lights flickered in my perception—residual traces of mana clinging to walls, torches, and the weapons of the Templar soldiers further off. Yet among those signatures was one that stood out: a faint trail. It led directly toward a wall of a building not far from the alley before me.

Mana Sense has leveled up.

I followed the trace until it ended abruptly at a single section of the wall. Most of the masonry resonated as expected—dense, solid stone. But here… it was different. Where there should have been resistance, there was only emptiness. A hollow space masquerading as sandstone. To the naked eye it was indistinguishable from the rest, but my senses told a different story.

I pressed my palm against it. The surface was firm and cold, no different from ordinary stone. Yet behind it, there was space. Aha, so that’s how they vanished. A hidden passage.

The hollow was narrow, just wide enough for one person to slip through. Cleverly concealed, perfectly blended into the wall. Without a high level of Mana Sense, I never would have found it.

Without hesitation, I passed through the illusionary wall. The mana trail continued faintly on the other side, guiding me through the narrow passage until I emerged into a secluded corner of the district. Before me stood an isolated house tucked deep within the alleys.

A tight smile crept across my lips. “Found you.”

Whoever I was chasing wasn’t just an ordinary person. They knew about this hidden passage, or perhaps they were the one who created it. And if the scenario’s clue about the “true target” was any indication, this discovery was no coincidence.

I amplified the cursed coat’s effect before slipping into the house through the door. With only one room inside, it didn’t matter where I entered since my presence would be noticed immediately. Therefore, it would be better to enter from where I could react swiftly.

Sure enough, as the door creaked open, steel flashed before my eyes. A dagger shot toward me, aimed straight for my throat, but I was ready. My hand snapped up, catching the hooded figure’s wrist and shoving them backward into the room.

Just like before, the wrist vanished from my grasp, and the figure reappeared several meters away inside. A female voice cut through the dim silence. “Are you an assassin sent by the Holy Kingdom?”

“An assassin?” I squinted my eyes as my mind raced at full capacity. No wonder she had bolted the moment I gave chase.

“Was it Homuraz that sent you?” she asked again, full of suspicion.

Homuraz? Does she mean that Desert Prince Homuraz? As I thought, there’s more to this than meets the eye.

“Wait, wait. I’m not an assassin,” I said quickly, raising a hand to calm her.

“Oh, no.” Her voice faltered suddenly, and it didn’t seem to be because of me.

The window behind her shattered abruptly, and a shadow burst through, followed by three more shapes slipping through the cracks of the door. Hooded assassins, blades glinting under the moonlight, swarmed into the room.

[Skilled Assassin – Lv.83]

A professional killer trained in stealth and precision. Masters of ambush tactics, they strike swiftly from the shadows and vanish just as quickly. Deadly with daggers and short blades, they rely on speed, agility, and coordinated attacks to overwhelm their prey.

[Skilled Assassin – Lv.84]

[Skilled Assassin – Lv.82]

“Assassins!” I clicked my tongue and immediately shifted into stance.

One lunged at the girl, but I thrust out my hand and cast {Frozen Icicle}. A shard of ice streaked across the room, piercing the attacker’s arm and knocking his dagger aside. The figure hissed and staggered, but two more replaced him, moving with deadly precision.

The woman raised her own short blade, barely deflecting a strike aimed for her chest. She was competent enough to survive, but her stance was rough, driven more by desperation than skill. It was obvious that these assassins were after her life.

Another blade flashed at me from the side. I twisted at the last moment, steel grazing past as I drew my sword and slashed across the assailant’s chest. In the same motion, I conjured a {Mana Bullet} and fired point-blank. The blue projectile smashed into his ribs, the force hurling him back across the floorboards.

“Gaaahhh!” The assassin screamed as blood spattered, his body writhing before collapsing. He gurgled once, convulsed, then fell still, lifeless.

You have hunted [Skilled Assassin Lv.82].

You have gained 1,420 EXP.

Divine warriors, particularly sheltered people from Earth, would have hesitated to take a life here. However, as a former God-King, I was no naïve soul and had no such qualms. Killing was almost as natural to me as breathing, especially when the enemy came for my life first. Besides, these so-called “humans” weren’t truly human in the same sense as divine warriors. They were constructs of the scenario—shadows of flesh meant to test us.

Still, more assassins poured in from outside with coordinated movements. Whoever had sent them was determined to see this woman silenced tonight.

I activated Wind Rush, my body blurring forward toward one of the killers cornering the hooded woman. In an instant, I stabbed him from behind, my blade driving cleanly into his back, the sensation of steel cutting through flesh running up my arm.

You have critically struck [Skilled Assassin Lv.84] with Back Stab.

You have hunted [Skilled Assassin Lv.84].

You have gained 1,440 EXP.

You have leveled up.

I met her eyes briefly as the corpse slumped to the floor. “Looks like they really want you dead.”

She only harrumphed at my words, turning her attention back to the assassins while still completely wary of me.

Even with two already dead, no fewer than six remained in the room. An entire squad must have been dispatched for this mission. Just as I readied myself to use Gravity Magic and take them down in one fell swoop, the door suddenly creaked open and a familiar large figure stepped through.

In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around the nearest assassin’s neck, locking him in a brutal chokehold.

“Ha! Having fun all by yourself, Maxim?” a booming voice rang out.


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