The Last Legendary Weapons Master: Rise of the strongest player-Chapter 47: Where Legends Rot

The words reached Ethan’s ears.

He did not turn around.

He continued walking.

But a terrifying expression flickered across his own face.

’Spare me your nonsense, servant of Balance. I have no intention of walking the path of your kind.’

When he reached the cafeteria’s exit, he glanced back once more.

His gaze was sharp. Cold.

Schierke was still staring at him.

With those same eyes.

’With this very hand... I will shatter your scales. I will scatter the balance you worship so dearly. I promise you.’

He did not speak those words aloud.

They were thoughts alone.

Yet his eyes conveyed them more clearly than any declaration could.

He was certain ..

Schierke understood.

The bargain between them had already begun.

A pact of death.

...

...

Once outside, alone beneath the open night sky beyond the men’s residence building, Ethan exhaled deeply.

His body finally relaxed after remaining tense the entire time.

A strained laugh escaped him as he looked up at the dark heavens.

"I can’t believe it... it’s truly Schierke, Apostle of Balance."

He sighed.

"I suspected her the moment I saw her. And I can only thank my memory for still recognizing the features of such a cursed character."

The recollection felt as fresh as yesterday.

Back when he was still playing Ordeal .. when he had reached Ashvarn for the first time.

Unlike reality, Ashvarn in the game was a late-stage area. A player wouldn’t reach it until roughly the midpoint of the story.

Ethan turned his head toward the illuminated city, its beauty glowing in the night.

His expression deepened.

Calm.

Distant.

As if he were seeing something else entirely.

"When I finally reached Ashvarn in the game... the city truly lived up to its name."

The City of Ash.

Unlike the elegant Victorian architecture standing before him now, what he had found in the game had been ruin.

Ash.

Desolation.

When he arrived back then, the catastrophe had already happened.

All that remained was to face its aftermath.

It was in that broken city that he had first met several key figures.

And the very first of them ..

Was a deceptive old woman at the gate.

An old woman who gave advice.

And sometimes... struck deals.

"Schierke, Apostle of Balance."

She had looked different then.

Not the kindly cafeteria attendant he had just spoken to ..

But a cunning witch who lured victims with honeyed words.

She belonged to a twisted cult.

One that worshipped a Night Lord.

The Demon of Balance.

A cult with which Ethan had a long and bitter history.

Because of them...

He had been forced to restart the game multiple times.

"Schierke differs from the Demon of Balance. She does not offer deals. She offers advice .. for a price."

Her advice always came as warnings.

If the player violated them, consequences would follow.

But if the player endured those consequences ..

There would be a reward.

In the game, the first three warnings were free.

Fortunately.

That rule seemed to apply here as well.

"Old Ashvarn. The Second Hunting Squad. What lies beneath the ground..."

A wide, dangerous smile spread across Ethan’s face.

"That’s exactly where I’ll begin."

He declared it firmly.

But his enthusiasm cooled almost immediately.

"...Wait."

His brow furrowed.

"I don’t know anything about the Second Squad."

"And what the hell is Old Ashvarn?"

Ethan smacked his forehead lightly.

The third warning was the only one whose depths he truly understood .. thanks to his experience in the game.

"Fine... it doesn’t matter. I’ll uncover the truth sooner or later."

With that, he set off toward his final destination for the night.

...

...

The irony of it all was almost laughable.

The Uncrowned Emperor had been far closer than Ethan imagined.

Closer than he had ever expected.

Asterion’s residence was located within the Hunters’ Paradise itself .. not far from where Ethan had been all along.

It was a dilapidated structure, devoured by time. Dust blanketed every surface. No one wandered inside. It looked abandoned .. long forsaken.

Ethan entered hesitantly, surveying the place with visible surprise at its state of decay.

"Is this truly the residence of the Uncrowned Emperor?"

He frowned.

"It looks more like a shelter for vagrants."

That was his first impression.

Asterion’s headquarters was not grand.

Not even respectable.

If anything, it was painfully modest.

After stepping inside, Ethan passed through a long corridor before arriving at a vast training hall.

It too was deserted.

At the far end of the hall stood a simple wooden platform covered by an old, tattered red carpet.

Upon that carpet lay countless bottles of fine, aged liquor .. discarded carelessly in such numbers they formed small mountains of glass.

And in the midst of it all ..

A familiar old man reclined comfortably, drinking without restraint and belching without shame.

The moment Ethan stepped into the training grounds, the heavy scent of alcohol struck him.

He froze. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

It felt less like entering a sword master’s training hall...

And more like stumbling into an ancient brothel.

Asterion sat there intoxicated.

He wore nothing but a simple black robe resembling a kimono. Barefoot. One leg crossed lazily over the other. A bottle pressed to his lips.

Slowly, his eyes shifted .. locking onto Ethan from afar.

Yet he showed no particular reaction.

He simply drank more.

Seeing the pitiful scene, Ethan let out a quiet sigh before approaching.

He walked several steps, stopping at a distance close enough for his voice to carry.

"Lord Asterion... I have come as you wished. What is your answer to my request?"

He wasted no time. He wanted to know .. would Asterion accept him as a disciple?

The Uncrowned Emperor stared at Ethan for a moment, seriousness flickering across his aged features.

Ethan braced himself for an answer.

But Instead ..

Asterion lifted his bottle toward him and shouted loudly:

"We’ll talk about that later! For now... wine!"

"...What?"

Ethan’s expression twisted in disbelief.

Asterion repeated himself.

"Wine! We drink first!"

The old man continued draining the contents of his bottle without restraint.

Ethan stood there, mouth slightly open, staring at the drunken relic before him.

An old man living inside a crumbling building.

Drunk day and night.

Barely aware of his surroundings.

’Is this truly the Uncrowned Emperor? The strongest knight within the Heart?’

For the first time, doubt crept into Ethan’s mind.

The figure before him looked less like a legendary swordsman ..

And more like a powerless, broken vagabond.