Why Did You Summon Me?

Chapter 335: Not All Bald Guys Can Throw A Serious Punch

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

When the outsiders — almost four hundred of them — from other forces walked through the gate of light, there were transported to a random location within the vast secret dimension. All they had for company were their shadows.

Most of them were calm enough to understand what had happened. Everyone could see the large silhouette of a castle in the distance. Some tidied up their gears and began to rush towards the dark castle, while some chose to stay back and fire off pre-planned signals to draw their allies to their locations in the wasteland. ¹

There were some others who were sanguine despite being teleported to random locations. Most of these lot were from the Sorcerer’s Association and the Doors of Conundrum. These scholarly individuals had chosen to forget all about the mysterious treasure; instead, they walked around and observed areas of the enigmatic dimension.

The Demigod Abbot, who was the first to enter the realm, had not moved from his location. He stood atop a black, barren hill, and his eyes were shut as he sensed every bit of movement around him. His expression shifted rapidly from solemness to a taunting smirk, and then to indifference.

He opened his eyes and stared into the eyes of the Demigod Knight who had appeared in front of him.

“What would ye hae o’ me, Sir?” The Demigod Abbot asked calmly, seemingly unfazed by the sudden appearance Demigod Knight, who was just as strong as he was.

“I will spell it out for you: it doesn’t matter what that treasure is; since it has appeared in the Southern Land, it belongs to the Southerners... It belongs to the Walhart Empire.”

The knight spoke calmly, but his words belied a stark hostility. Even the air pressure around him increased because of the killing intent emanating from him.

The Demigod Abbot paid no mind to the increasing hostility emanating from the demigod knight; in fact, he seemed to ignore the Demigod Knight altogether. After a few moments, he asked, “What happens if th’ Church claims it instead? ”

“Lay off the childish tactic of sowing discord,” the Demigod Knight replied in a steely tone. Suddenly, he unsheathed his Zweihanders in a flash. “Compared to the two of you, I’m still young. Not much time have passed since I discovered my own Territory.”

It was a threat — a very bizarre one at that. However, this was the sort of threat that worked on demigod-level fighters. Those that were new to the demigod level were able to use their Territories with reckless abandon; this was because the number of times they had used their Territories were definitely less than the amount of time seasoned demigod fighters had used theirs, so they were in no danger of attracting the attention of the natural Laws any time soon. However, demigod veterans, such as the abbot — who had spent an unimaginable amount of time to perfect their powers — did not have that much leeway; in fact, they feared that they may have already attracted the attention of the Laws years ago, so if they dared to activate their Territories again, they may be quickly banished to the Void. The Demigod Abbot shared this fear.

No matter how precious this treasure was, it was still inanimate; how could it compare to a life that one had nurtured to the point that they were able to reach the demigod-level? Without knowing how valuable the treasure was, the Demigod Abbot had to de-escalate a situation. He could only swallow his fury at the Demigod Knight’s provocation and took two steps back before sitting on the blackened earth.

He extended his hand and beckoned at the knight with a “please” gesture. “Then oan mah insistence, shall th’ bairn be delighted wi’ a discourse on philosophy ‘n’ knowledge and wi’ me?”

The Demigod Knight sneered. His task — delaying the strongest Northern warrior — was successful.

He sheathed his Zweihanders and sat down on the ground. He did not engage the Demigod Abbot in any conversation; instead, he focused on sensings movements and changes to the surroundings.

Not long after, both demigods sensed a familiar power surge into the sky; the power seemed blessed and holy, and its shining light, which had surged into the sky, was akin to a lighthouse on a pitch-black night, which was capable of drawing everyone to it.

It was the Demigod Priest. He seemed to be announcing his location to the other members of the Church so they could head in his direction.

“Aye, quite a confident lad, that priest?” The bald abbot smirked. “Declaring his whereabouts in such candor, has th’ possibility o’ a fourth Demigod bein ere’ completely fallen oot o’ his mynd? Especially when th’ fourth one hus concealed his aura ‘n’ presence sae thoroughly that even we kent nae who he is...”

“Father Jonah is much more powerful than you are willing to admit,” the Demigod Knight snapped. “Meanwhile, whoever that other person is... If he really has reached the demigod level and still resorted to hiding his presence this way, then he most likely is a craven who will not be difficult to take down.”

“Hmph. We shall see.” The Demigod Abbot ended the conversation and closed his eyes, waiting for the situation to change.

In another location, a Northerner stood up, with an unsettling grin on his lips. He looked at the Sorcerers’ Association badge in his hand and at the corpse at his feet. The badge had been yanked from the robe of the corpse.

“Is this magic? It’s hardly stimulating,” the scholarly-looking Northern said. He tightened his grip slightly, and the badge crumbled into fragments.

He took out a white silk handkerchief and wiped the bloodstain off his hand clean, then he casually tossed it onto the corpse and headed in the direction of the Demigod Priest.

In another location, Paladin Grand Cross Charlemagne, who had met Baiyi only twice, had a look of incredulity on his face as he looked down at the muscular arm protruding from his chest; it had pierced right through his armor!

Blood oozed out a corner of his lips.

He never predicted that just as he was heading towards the demigod Priest, he would to run into the muscular northerner, who donned a sleeveless shirt.

The muscular northerner never said a word as he one-hit KO’ed the paladin with an arm wrapped in combat chi. The paladin never expected the northerners to disregard the no-killing rule in Capital City’s imperial decree, but he did not have enough time to think about it; he died a few moments after his armor was pierced through.

“You’re one o’ th’ stronger ones, but b’fore us warriors who huv braced cauntless training ‘n’ tests, th’ endurance o’ ye Southerners is nothing mair than pathetic,” the muscular man whispered in the Paladin Grand Cross’s ear, and suddenly, a dangerous wave of combat chi course through the arm buried inside the Paladin, and his corpse exploded into countless bloody bits.

“‘Only th’ mos’ fit shall claim th’ treasure. Th’ fact dat dis land bars external communication is proof enough o’ th’ gey nature o’ this hunt.”

A deep crimson combat chi engulfed the muscular northerner and vaporized the blood on his body, and soon, only a blood-red mist remained. The mist drifted to the front as he casually strode towards the Church’s rendezvous point.

Murders like this one was not an isolated situation; it was happening all across the realm. Some were won by northerners, and some were won by southerners. In just a short time, the death toll was astronomical. At that point, the forces in the secret realm only had a single thought in their heads: ‘there is only one treasure.’ Although they had to abide by imperial decree while they were within Capital City, the same could not be said in this secret realm that was a no-mans-land. Since they stood to gain nothing should they play it gently, why would they choose not to go at it with everything they had at their disposal? Why would they not resort to killing just to reduce the competition? After all, even if they could not get the treasure, they would not suffer much loss because they could still plunder resources from the dead.

The energy signatures did not escape Baiyi’s detection. He shook his head sideways and sighed. “Just as expected, huh? In an unfamiliar and unpopulated land, where a powerful yet enigmatic treasure is buried, why would a group of power men not be motivated by greed?...”

He had foreseen a bloodbath preceding his inauguration ceremony, and frankly, that was precisely what he had hoped to see. This was the game he desired these outsiders to play. ²

Baiyi also intended to join the fray as well. He turned to the barbarians and watched them frown at pieces of papers in their hands, which contained words written with their barbaric penmanship. “Okay. If you can’t really memorize all of this, that is fine; you just have to remain quiet the entire time and do as I told, okay?”

“Yaaaay! Brother Hope is the best!” Huskar exclaimed and ripped his paper into shreds. “These words were making my head explode!”

“Brother, please remember what I said, okay? It’s for the sake of a peaceful future for us,” Baiyi said.

“Yea, yea. I know; don’t worry! We have the greatest memories there is!” Huskar said, with a wide grin.

After that, they proceeded deeper into the castle. After they left, the surroundings became quiet again, as quiet as it was before its discovery.

Great Sage Kris, the Baldy from the Doors of Conundrum, had found himself waist deep in trouble.

When Kris entered the secret dimension, he did not rush off to find other members of the Doors of Conundrum, neither did he rush towards the black castle; instead, he remained in the same spot and observed his surroundings.

He had appeared right beside an enormous crater, which he jumped into after observing for a few moments. He picked up small chunks of rock from the bottom of the crater and examined them, trying to determine when they were formed.

The blissful silence did not last long. As Great Sage Kris was examining the rocks, he heard a shrill scream right above him. He quickly jumped out of the crater and spotted someone being murdered by a sinister man wearing a black robe.

“You! Stop this!” Baldy Kris shouted furiously and leaped forward.

In the past, he had been part of the army, working as a scribe; despite not being out on the field, Baldy Kris had gained the passionate mettle that the soldiers were known to possess.

Unfortunately, that same gusto temporarily blinded him from remembering that he was first and foremost a scholar. He quickly cast two protective magic spells and prepared to unleash a powerful spell, but a forceful fist shattered his nose before he could utter the fourth syllable of his chant.

Great Sage Kris was sent flying backward, and he crashed into the ground feebly.

“A nerd from the Doors of Conundrum... is trying to be a hero?” The robed man sneered. “You’re pretty brave. However, this is it for you.”

He took large strides towards Great Sage Kris, who clutched at his nose and whimpered. The robed man was going for the kill!

Great Sage found himself unable to move because of the killing intent emanating from the robed man. In his terror and panic, the Great Sage had forgotten that he, too, was a powerful fighter in his own right!