The Villain Rising: Ascension of Arcane Trickster.-Chapter 228: The Trickster.

[Rael’s POV]

Where the fuck am I now?

I looked around but I was standing inside some strange, run-down hut. From the dust clinging to every surface, I could confidently say I would never come to a place like this in a thousand years...

So what the hell am I doing here?

For a few moments, I couldn’t recall jack shit. Then my mind stabilized and I remembered what had happened.

Fuck, did that bastard Winter betray me?

Tsk...

Did he not care about his own life, breaking the Binds of Damnation like that?

Or did he have some other option prepared to save himself?

In any case, I never trusted that guy anyway. I was prepared to die from the start. Still, that fucker should start counting his days because if I ever get out of here and he or his father is alive, I will make sure to pay everything back with interest one day when I am strong.

I forced myself to focus on the present because figuring out which underworld I ended up in was my first priority.

It wasn’t cold or unbearably hot, so it wasn’t Helheim or Vael’runn’s domain and since it wasn’t pitch dark, it wasn’t Irkalla either.

That left either Tartarus or Duat.

I didn’t know much about the landscapes of either but from what I understood, this didn’t seem like Tartarus.

I mean this hut didn’t resemble an underworld at all and that left me with a single conclusion, I was probably in Duat and if that was the case, Osiris might have thrown me into some kind of trial.

I need to figure out what this trial is and find a way to escape this hell alive. Otherwise, Osiris is going to shove me into a cycle of reincarnation and I’ll be reset completely.

Can’t have my handsome self being born as something else... I mean, there’s even a slight chance I could get reincarnated as some ugly elf who finds pleasure in playing with human balls...

But before I could think any further, the door to the hut creaked open and a man stepped inside. He had a long, unruly beard and mustache and his expression was far from pleasant. His brown hair and eyes were ordinary at first glance but something in those eyes felt... familiar.

It took me a moment to understand who it was...

Eidolon...?

The same blacksmith Winter had tried to resurrect was standing in front of me, frowning as he stared past me as if he couldn’t see me at all.

"How dare that Emperor... how dare he take my son away?"

He muttered, his voice laced with both concern and anger.

"You better pray to every god possible, Ravenclaw because if anything happens to my son, I will eradicate even the gods who support your empire."

An enormous pressure erupted from his body.

SSS-Rank...?

I had only ever felt that kind of pressure from Ashavar but this one felt unrefined, weaker than his but it still stood at the same rank.

Eidolon walked toward where I was standing and passed straight through me as if I were nothing but air and only then did I understand...

Maybe I hadn’t been betrayed by Winter.

Maybe I wasn’t even dead.

Instead, somehow because of my connection to the Card of Arcana that had been used as a soul container for Eidolon, I was inside his memory or at least part of it.

As the realization settled in, I heard a sound behind me.

Eidolon was lifting something from the floor, a small wooden hatch, beneath it was another metallic door, shimmering with mystical light.

He lifted it effortlessly and descended.

I followed.

Because, well... I had nothing better to do and who knew how long I would be stuck here? Might as well see what the world looked like before everything went to shit and what the so-called Age of Gods held.

A massive underground bunker lay beneath the hut, filled with countless artifacts. Each one emitted enough mana pressure to eradicate even someone like Morvana in a single strike but one stood above the rest.

A particular sword radiated pressure that surpassed everything else as if even gods would be mere mortals before its edge.

Eidolon stared at the blade, its edges crimson and its body completely white, lacking even a hilt.

"You wanted a weapon that could even kill gods..."

He muttered.

"...so be it. I shall give you my greatest creation, the Crimson Ink."

He picked up the sword or whatever that artistically absurd yet reality-bending thing was but then his gaze paused on a large metallic door at the far end of the bunker.

How many doors does this guy even have?

I couldn’t help but think as he opened it and stepped inside.

I followed.

Unlike the previous chamber, this room held no grand artifacts at all. Instead, a single golden card, etched with a mysterious but ominous smile and some strange runes, glowed at its center.

It rotated gently within a glass container as if it possessed a will of its own and I don’t know why... but I felt like it could sense me even though this was just a memory.

The card felt similar to the Card of Arcana and yet at the same time... vastly different.

I immediately understood who it belonged to.

The Trickster.

Come to think of it, Winter did say his father had summoned the Trickster to save him... Maybe I’ll finally get to see what that ugly bastard looks like.

Meanwhile, Eidolon picked up the card and the scene shifted instantly.

The next moment, I was standing in a grand hall filled with countless murmurs. Eidolon stood at the center, kneeling with his jaw clenched and the sword held out in both hands as if offering it to the being seated upon the throne.

A man with black hair and green eyes sat there, his gaze condescending as it fell upon Eidolon.

"So even the strongest being to walk the mortal plane couldn’t abandon his emotions for his weak, blind son, hmm?"

He chuckled.

The others within the chamber echoed his laughter.

Eidolon’s hands tightened around the sword as he muttered. "I have brought you the weapon, now give me my son back."

The being nodded. "But before that, let me confirm whether this weapon is truly real... or merely a fake."

"What are you talking about, Emperor Ravenclaw? Are your senses so muddled that you cannot even perceive the immense power within it?" Eidolon finally raised his head.

Damn, even their speaking patterns are ancient...

Meanwhile, I stood off to the side, watching their interactions calmly.

"I can sense the energy," the Emperor replied calmly, "but who is to say that you, the greatest blacksmith of the mortal world, haven’t employed some... unfair means?"

Eidolon’s expression twisted but he nodded in agreement.

Tch. This guy is more desperate than I thought.

I couldn’t help but frown.

Even a newborn would know not to hand over their leverage so easily but I suppose it’s true, hermits who obsess over one craft rarely understand how society actually functions.

Still... I could understand him up to some extent.

He was a parent and their kind tends to lose half their brains when it comes to their children.

What I couldn’t understand was why he hadn’t summoned the Trickster from the beginning, why he only resorted to it after Winter’s death...

—

The Emperor’s lips curled into a sly smile as the sword floated toward him. "Good."

He took the sword into his hand and swung it a few times, testing its weight.

"I believe, since I have fulfilled my part, it is time for you to honor your end of the deal." Eidolon muttered.

The Emperor looked at him for a moment.

"Ahh, right."

He snapped his fingers as a boy with ordinary brown hair and eyes appeared some distance away from Eidolon, bound by chains.

Winter.

"Winter... it’s all right. Your father is here now," Eidolon said, relief finally crossing his face.

"Fathe— father... is that really you?" Winter’s innocent voice trembled as tears streamed down his cheeks. "I’m sorry, father... I’m sorry..."

He kept repeating it, probably blaming himself for making his father abandon his principles for his sake.

"It’s all right as long as you are safe."

Eidolon stepped forward but before he could even close the distance...

A hand seized Winter by the neck and crushed it before he could even scream.

"Hmm... so the sword really does elevate my strength enough that even a peak Demigod couldn’t sense me, huh?"

The Emperor smirked as he let Winter’s lifeless body fall to the ground with a soft thud. Eidolon stood frozen for a moment, still processing what had just happened.

"You... you bastard—"

He screamed but just as he was about to act, countless chains erupted from the ground, binding him in place.

"Did you really think I was a fool like you, Eidolon?" The Emperor muttered. "Did you truly believe I would let you walk away after angering you?"

"This entire castle is layered with Heaven-Sealing rituals and you walked in like a fool without realizing any of it..."

Eidolon lifted his gaze toward the Emperor, resignation settling into his expression.

"I hoped it wouldn’t come to this. I hoped I wouldn’t have to summon HIM as the cost is far too immense but you and your Empire have brought this upon yourselves, oh foolish Emperor."

Eidolon muttered as a golden card floated out of his pocket, shining with a mystical glow.

"The Ever-Smiling Wanderer

The Whimsical One Who Laughed at Fate

He Who Finds Jest in Twisted Threads

The Gentle Grin Beneath the Turning Sky

I, your humble servant, summon you, Oh Great Trickster."

His voice trembled as the Emperor froze.

"Stop him..."

The Emperor muttered but no one in the hall could move anymore as the card’s glow intensified.

Meanwhile Eidolon continued unbothered.

"I, Eidolon, the one who rejected divinity, offer my life, the lives of everyone within the Great Ravenclaw Empire as well as the lives of the gods who support such an empire. Please descend, grant my wish... to save and guide my child in my place..."

The moment those words left his mouth, the world paused. A whimsical laughter echoed through reality itself.

"Hehehehheheheehheehheheheheheh..."

Meanwhile, I felt no pressure at all from whatever was happening within the memory.

I glanced around, searching for the source of the laughter and then I saw him...

The Trickster.