novelraw Chapter 119: Silent Infiltration
Chapter 119: Silent Infiltration
I was able to conduct the sermon just fine through the clone. Its movements were perfectly composed, and its voice carried the same calm authority as mine.
As the sermon reached its climax, the clone raised a hand and declared, “My believers, the Creator’s gaze is upon you. Each act of faith strengthens His light. Do not despair, for your devotion will soon bear fruit.”
A hushed awe spread through the crowd. Many of the followers clasped their hands, their bodies trembling with fervent belief. The atmosphere swelled with reverence, so thick it almost became tangible in the air.
Then, just as the words faded, cracks of light began to spread across the construct’s form. Its outline flickered, fragmenting like glass under strain, before dissolving into motes of golden dust that drifted away into the air.
The construct has lost energy and dissipated.
Unfortunately, the clone couldn’t last longer than a minute. Yet, rather than question what they had seen, the followers instead fell to their knees, overcome with reverence. They believed they had just witnessed a divine miracle, the Creator’s very manifestation vanishing back to the heavens.
Satisfied with the result, I left the place and made my way straight toward the Rift of Dungeons. It didn’t take long before I arrived at the plaza where the three Rifts stood side by side. By now, this area had been unofficially dubbed “Rift Square” by divine warriors.
The square was bustling with people. Groups of divine warriors lined up before the Rift of Scenarios to get their turn. Many at the side were shouting to form up temporary parties or arguing heatedly over loot distribution. However, I wasn’t here to join them and simply walked toward the left most alcove where the Rift of Dungeons was.
Unlike the Rift of Scenarios, there was no Elysia stationed here to supervise. The Rift of Dungeons was entirely self-regulated; anyone could enter whatever dungeon they wished, regardless of rank. So, a Bet-rank divine warrior could enter a dungeon for Daleth-rank divine warriors. Of course, entering a dungeon far above one’s level was as good as signing a death warrant. Only the overconfident or the foolish ever tried such a thing.
As I approached within a few meters of the alcove, a System message popped up before me.
Please select the dungeon that you want to enter:
Ashen Caverns — Difficulty: F+ (Recommended Level: 10+)Howling Graveyard — Difficulty: E (Recommended Level: 20+)Mystic Forest — Difficulty: E+ (Recommended Level: 40+)Ruined Catacombs — Difficulty: D (Recommended Level: 50+)Great Wilderness — Difficulty: D+ (Recommended Level: 60+)…
There were at least twenty dungeons listed here. Naturally, I selected the fifth option—the Great Wilderness. The moment I confirmed my choice, the text expanded into a detailed description as the System confirmed my choice.
Great Wilderness
A vast, untamed expanse located in a pocket dimension beyond Fantasia’s boundaries, filled with ancient beasts, forgotten ruins, and scattered tribes of primitive races. The terrain swings from swamps to arid plains and scorching badlands, housing monsters of varying danger levels. Those who venture deep enough may uncover remnants of civilizations long lost—or die trying.
Difficulty:D+(Recommended Level: 60+)
Time Ratio: 3:1
Note: This place is deadly for Bet-rank divine warriors and below.
Do you wish to open a portal to the Great Wilderness?
[Yes/No]
When I selected “Yes,” a swirling portal formed within the alcove, twisting like liquid energy drawn into a vortex. Unlike the dark violet hue of the Rift of Scenarios, this one was a deep bluish color—serene yet vast, as though it led into an endless sky. Without hesitation, I stepped forward and entered the dungeon.
“Hmm? I’ve been followed…” I muttered, noticing several gazes fixed on me just as I was about to step through the portal. Even after arriving in the Great Wilderness, I realized I wasn’t alone; several divine warriors were already scattered across the area, hunting beasts or looting fallen ones.
It wasn’t uncommon to encounter other divine warriors inside a dungeon. However, most were usually too occupied with the weekly compulsory scenarios to waste time hunting here. After all, unlike scenarios, any wounds or injuries sustained within dungeons wouldn’t magically heal upon returning to Fantasia.
But there was another, far greater risk to worry about. Inside the Rift of Dungeons, the usual safety rules didn’t apply. Once a divine warrior ventured more than a hundred meters away from the portal, the System lifted all penalties related to divine warrior-on-divine warrior combat. In other words, killing another divine warrior beyond that boundary carried no punishment or soul coin deduction.
This was the other unspoken truth about the Rift of Dungeons: Monsters weren’t always the deadliest things lurking inside.
In haste, I activated Fast Equip, and the cursed coat instantly draped over my shoulders before my presence disappeared entirely. I slipped away without the divine warriors even realizing I’d been there. True to my hunch, once I was a few hundred meters out, I glanced back and spotted several figures emerging from the portal above the platform. They scanned the area with sharp, coordinated movements—clearly a well-trained group. Judging from their appearance, they were all Gimmel-rank divine warriors, likely part of an organized guild or faction.
Being alone, I must’ve looked like an easy target to them. Whether they knew who I was or were simply after prey didn’t matter.
Ignoring them, I sprinted ahead. I had no interest in wasting time dealing with small fry, even if I could crush them with only a little effort. Since my plausibility reserves were still low, I would first head toward a couple of the frogmen villages and drain the faith accumulated in their totems. Once that was done, I would move straight toward the inverted pyramid—the Forgotten Vault.
***
I managed to gather a sizable sum of plausibility by secretly siphoning the faith stored within the Green Webber Tribe’s totems. Moving unseen beneath the cover of the cursed coat and the Mask of a Thousand Races, I infiltrated village after village, watching the frogmen bow in prayer to their guardian deity while their faith was quietly redirected into my reserves.
At the same time, whenever I encountered a stray group of frogmen—whether they were hunting lizardmen or simply patrolling their territory—I took the opportunity to ambush them. Each skirmish earned me a bit more experience, allowing me to level up twice. However, since I wasn’t actively seeking them out, and after yesterday’s large-scale hunt, their numbers had noticeably dwindled.
During my rounds, I also discovered that some of the larger settlements were keeping lizardmen as slaves. The largest of them all—the one beside the vast, murky lake said to house their guardian deity—held dozens of prisoners in cages fashioned from bone and vine. From what I overheard, the frogmen regularly conducted sacrificial rituals, offering the lizardmen’s lives to their so-called god in exchange for protection.
Whatever the case, I still didn’t intend to interfere and had no reason to do so yet. Whether those lizardmen lived or died mattered little, so I turned my back on their misery and continued onward toward the inverted pyramid.
Before long, the enormous structure loomed ahead once again. I stopped about thirty meters away, studying the weathered surface, locking my gaze on the narrow gap halfway up the pyramid’s slope—just large enough for a single person to slip through.
“Guess that’s my entry point,” I murmured.
Activating Stealth Movements, my form blurred into shadow as I scaled the slanted wall while also simultaneously using other movement skills like Wind Rush and Predator’s Step to keep my footing steady, and also cast {Mass Alteration} to lighten my weight. In no time, I reached the narrow opening and crouched before it, peering inside. The passage within was dark, narrow, and steep, sloping downward into the unknown. A faint current of stale air drifted from within, carrying the scent of dust and something faintly metallic.
Without wasting another second, I slipped inside and descended the winding path. My boots sank into layers of compacted dust that hadn’t been disturbed in centuries. The deeper I went, the more I could feel the calling of something inside becoming stronger.
Soon, the path enlarged to a room. Cracked walls lined with faded murals flanked me on both sides, depicting scenes of demi-human races—lizardmen, frogmen, and others—kneeling before a colossal being with the upper body of a man and the lower half of a serpent. The figure’s face had been intentionally defaced in every depiction, leaving only jagged scratches where its eyes should have been.
I frowned. “Half-human, half-serpent… could this be their god?”
I kept advancing, keeping my guard up of my surroundings. Suddenly, I noticed something was wrong ahead and stopped in my tracks. I quickly activated Mana Sense, and almost immediately, faint magical fluctuations appeared ahead.
“Traps… of course.”
Normally, Michelle would have been the first to notice any danger ahead, and depending on our formation, Tuilë would’ve been the one to disarm the traps with her gadgets. However, despite being something of a jack-of-all-trades, I lacked any real skill dedicated to trap detection or dismantling. Well, except for one workaround. It seems I’ll have to use ‘that’ skill here.
“Echo Construct,” I invoked, and a pulse of energy radiated from my body, coalescing beside me. Within seconds, a perfect copy of myself appeared—expressionless and still, awaiting orders. I directed it to move ahead.
The clone obeyed, stepping cautiously forward. Barely three steps in, crimson runes flared beneath its feet, and a spike of black stone shot upward from beneath it, impaling it clean through the torso. The clone shattered into fragments of light before dissolving completely.
The construct has been destroyed.
“Yep. Traps confirmed.”
I exhaled through my nose, then summoned another construct. “All right, number two. Your turn.”
The second copy advanced obediently, stepping into another trap moments later. This time, a section of the wall split open, releasing a thick jet of greenish mist that filled the narrow corridor. The clone staggered, its body melting into the haze before vanishing.
The construct has been destroyed.
“Good. Keep clearing the way for me, you disposable little lifesaver.” I couldn’t help but smirk at how effective the strategy was. This skill was worth every soul coin I’d spent on it. Hopefully, the constructs wouldn’t gain a will of their own and attack me for using them like this. Well, they were only semi-real duplicates, so there was nothing to worry about.
And so, I continued summoning them one after another. Each one advanced a few meters farther before triggering another hidden trap—spikes, darts, arrows, crushing walls, and more poison mist. One by one, the hazards discharged and reset, but with every cycle, my safe path expanded deeper into the Forgotten Vault.
Echo Construct has leveled up.
Despite the skill leveling up, I wasn’t exactly thrilled. “Ugh… this skill is way too draining.”
Having used the skill ten times nonstop, my head felt light and my limbs heavy. The mental strain was catching up to me fast. For all its usefulness, Echo Construct had some serious drawbacks. For example, I could only summon and maintain one construct at a time at the skill’s current level, severely limiting its versatility. Worse still, every activation drained both stamina and focus, leaving a dull ache behind my eyes.
Still, my efforts weren’t in vain. I’d finally managed to map out a safe path through the labyrinth of traps. Following the exact trail my last construct had taken, I moved cautiously forward and safely reached the final archway.
However, what appeared before me left me utterly speechless.