Knight: from Apprentice to the Almighty

Chapter 351: Chapter 338: Gaze from the Abyss

Roland watched Anno vanish in that bizarre fashion, but he didn’t lower his guard just yet.

His eyes narrowed as he focused his mind, silently activating Shadow Perception.

His consciousness spread out like fine, invisible tendrils, sweeping over every inch of ground and every shadow in the vicinity, searching for any lingering trace of a malevolent aura or any hidden threats.

Only after confirming multiple times that the nauseating abyssal presence was truly gone and that there was nothing else amiss did he finally let out a long, slow breath, allowing his tense nerves to relax slightly.

He stood in place, the strange, fleeting events of moments ago replaying in his mind.

The eerie phantom pressed against Anno’s face with a mocking smile, and the severed arm that had activated on its own, transforming into a life-saving black cocoon.

’This isn’t simple Energy corrosion or possession...’

Roland calmly deduced.

’That phantom... it was more like the projection of a high-level Abyssal being, or perhaps even a sliver of its divine will. It’s been watching from the shadows all along, and even planted some kind of fail-safe in Anno’s body...’

At this thought, his brow slowly furrowed.

This meant that from the very beginning, Anno was likely more than just a wielder of Abyssal Power. He was a pawn, or perhaps a vessel, for some far more terrifying entity.

And the turmoil plaguing the Golden Valley Kingdom might not have its roots in human greed, but rather...

...in the Power of the Abyss, secretly pulling the strings, manipulating events, and causing all this mischief.

Burying this newfound wariness deep in his heart, Roland stepped forward and began to calmly survey the aftermath of the battle.

Aided by the imperceptible pull of his Plundering Trait, he quickly found some scattered coins and common equipment near the corpses of the dead soldiers.

But for him, in his current state, they were of little use.

Next, his gaze fell upon the three Extraordinary Professionals who had followed Anno here and fallen in battle.

Just like the three Assassins who had tried to kill Gloria, the area around their corpses was unnaturally "clean." The Plundering Trait had failed to strip any valuable loot from them.

’It’s the same again...’

Roland’s brow furrowed.

’These people’s souls and minds must have been completely eroded or altered by Abyssal Power. They’ve lost everything they ever cherished, to the point where even the concept of ’precious’ has been wiped from their minds. That’s why Plundering has nothing to target...’

Just as he was pondering the deeper meaning behind this strange phenomenon, his keen Perception caught a faint spatial distortion.

Sensing the disturbance, Roland instantly went on high alert, his sharp gaze sweeping toward the spot where Anno had vanished.

All that remained was a pool of blood that had yet to dry.

However, just above that glaring patch of crimson, the air seemed to waver slightly.

Then, a quaint-looking notebook with a dark brown cover and worn edges began to materialize out of thin air, solidifying from a phantasmal state until it was hovering silently a few inches off the ground.

It was as if it had been there all along, only now permitted to reveal itself.

’Is this... the Plundering Trait activating?’

Roland watched cautiously for a moment, until the notebook fell from the air and hit the ground, kicking up a fine spray of dust.

After confirming that nothing else was out of the ordinary, he slowly stepped forward.

’So... this means... Anno... is really dead?’

With this question in mind, Roland picked up the notebook. The pads of his fingers brushed against the dark brown leather cover; it felt cool and smooth to the touch.

He opened it, his eyes quickly scanning the dense, somewhat messy script within.

This was clearly Anno’s personal research journal.

The contents of the journal far exceeded his expectations.

The Duke hadn’t been blindly pursuing the Power of the Abyss. On the contrary, he was keenly aware of the terrifying side effects that came with it.

The corruption of the mind, the mutation of the body, and the pitiful end of ultimately becoming a slave to the Abyss.

He had dedicated copious pages to documenting his painstaking research, his attempts to strip away the purest, most fundamental parts of the Abyssal Energy to strengthen himself, while simultaneously discarding the chaotic, evil, and mind-twisting impurities.

The journal indicated that he had already worked out a preliminary theoretical framework and methodology. Though still incomplete, the direction was clear. All that remained, it seemed, was to verify his theories and fill in the details through numerous cruel experiments.

What truly caught Roland’s attention was a specific assertion Anno had written.

"The Energy that exists in this world, whether it’s the Magic Elements that fill the heavens and earth or the Shadow Power that originates from the Abyss, is not inherently good or evil."

"Power is Power. What truly defines its nature is the will that controls and wields it."

The subsequent pages contained detailed logs of his repeated experiments to channel, separate, and purify Abyssal Power, including vast amounts of observational data, records of his failures, and the fleeting joy of his occasional successes.

Aided by his Concentration Trait, Roland’s reading speed was astounding. His mind was like a precision instrument, efficiently processing the flood of information.

In just a few moments, he had finished reading the entire journal.

Every single character, every hastily-drawn diagram, was imprinted in his mind with perfect clarity.

Closing the journal, a complex glint flashed in Roland’s eyes.

Anno’s paranoia and ambition were undeniable, but his insight into the nature of Power, along with his near-maniacal research into taming the Abyss, revealed a startling degree of reason and brilliance.

’Stripping away the side effects of the Abyss...’

Roland mulled over the audacious idea.

It was undoubtedly like walking an extremely dangerous tightrope, but the theoretical path outlined in the journal faintly suggested it wasn’t entirely impossible.

’If it could really be done...’

Just as Roland was lost in thought, contemplating and assessing the journal’s contents, he felt an extremely faint, unusual tremor from the book in his hands.

Before he could react, the leather-bound journal began to slowly fade from between his fingers, losing its physical form like a drop of ink dissolving in water.

In the blink of an eye, it turned completely transparent and then vanished without a trace, as if forcibly stripped away by some invisible and absolute power of the Law.

Roland’s pupils contracted. He stared intently at his empty hands, alarm bells screaming in his mind.

Ever since he had acquired the Plundering Trait, nothing so bizarre had ever occurred.

Any loot obtained through this Trait, once manifested, was anchored to reality. There was no precedent for it ever disappearing on its own.

’Unless...’

Roland suddenly recalled the seemingly simple description of Plundering.

"When an enemy creature is thoroughly defeated, strip it of its most precious possession..."

’Could it be...’

’That Anno isn’t actually dead?’

’That he was forcibly pulled back from the brink of death, and has even been successfully revived?’

’If that theory holds, then according to the logic of that inexplicable Law, once the "defeated enemy creature" status no longer applies, the loot that appeared as a result of that "defeat" would naturally be reclaimed, returning to its true owner...’

A chill went down Roland’s spine at the thought.

The Power of the Abyss was so bizarre that it could blur, or even transcend, the very boundary of death?

However, before he could even begin to process this sudden turn of events, another, even more astonishing change occurred.

A line of text appeared in his vision without any warning.

But this was not the sacred, brilliant gilded-gold text that appeared when he awakened new Skills or Traits, nor was it the blood-red color, filled with iron and glory, that had appeared when he unlocked the Knight Profession.

This was an utterly pure color, one that seemed to devour all light...

Pitch-black.

It was like the thickest ink, like the deepest midnight, possessing a cold and silent quality as it was abruptly seared into his vision.

Gaze from the Abyss