Translator: CinderTL
Watching Arno vanish in that bizarre manner, Roland didn't immediately lower his guard.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he focused his spirit, silently activating Shadow Perception.
His consciousness spread out like invisible tendrils, meticulously scanning every inch of the surrounding earth and shadows, searching for any lingering traces of malevolent energy or hidden threats.
After repeatedly confirming that the nauseating abyss aura had completely receded and no anomalies remained, he slowly exhaled a long breath, allowing his tense nerves to relax slightly.
Standing rooted to the spot, Roland replayed the fleeting moment of the strange transformation in his mind.
The eerie phantom pressed against Arno's face, its playful smile, and the severed arm that had spontaneously animated, transforming into a life-saving black cocoon.
This wasn't a simple case of energy corruption or possession...
Roland calmly reasoned.
That phantom... it was more like a projection of a high-ranking abyss entity, perhaps even a fragment of its divine consciousness. It had been secretly observing Arno, and had even planted some kind of failsafe within him...
As this thought crossed his mind, Roland slowly furrowed his brow.
This meant Arno might have been more than just a user of abyssal power from the start. He could have been a pawn or vessel for some even more terrifying entity.
The turmoil in the Golden Valley Kingdom might not have stemmed from human greed, but rather...
The abyssal power was secretly driving, manipulating, and haunting the land.
Concealing this newfound vigilance deep within his heart, Roland stepped forward and began calmly clearing the battlefield.
Thanks to the invisible pull of his Plunder trait, he quickly found scattered coins and ordinary equipment near the fallen soldiers' corpses.
However, these items held little value for him now.
Next, his gaze turned to the three transcendent professionals who had followed Arno to this place and died in battle.
Just like the three assassins who had attempted to assassinate Gloria earlier, their bodies were eerily "clean." The Plunder trait failed to extract any valuable loot from them.
"Not again..."
Roland's brow furrowed slightly.
"These people's souls and minds have likely been completely corrupted or transformed by the abyssal power. They've lost everything they once cherished, even the very concept of 'value' has been extinguished. Thus, the Plunder ability has lost its target..."
Just as he was pondering the deeper implications of this anomaly, his keen senses detected a subtle spatial distortion.
Alerted to the anomaly, Roland instantly entered a defensive stance, his sharp gaze sweeping across the patch of earth where Arno had vanished moments before.
Only a pool of still-wet blood remained.
Yet, above that glaring crimson stain, the air seemed to ripple slightly.
Then, without warning, an ancient-looking notebook materialized from thin air. Its dark brown cover was worn at the edges, and it hovered silently an inch above the ground.
It was as if the notebook had always been there, only now permitted to become visible.
"Is this... the Plunder ability taking effect?"
Roland observed cautiously for a moment, until the notebook drifted downward and landed on the ground with a soft thud, kicking up a wisp of dust.
Confirming that no further anomalies were present, he slowly approached.
"So... Arno... is dead?"
With this question lingering in his mind, Roland picked up the notebook. His fingertip brushed across the dark brown leather cover, its texture cool and smooth.
He flipped open the pages, his eyes quickly scanning the dense, slightly hurried handwriting.
This was clearly Arno's personal research journal.
The contents far exceeded Roland's expectations.
The duke hadn't blindly pursued the abyss's power. On the contrary, he was acutely aware of its terrifying side effects: the corruption of the mind, the mutation of the body, and the tragic fate of ultimately becoming a slave to the abyss.
He had devoted extensive passages to documenting his desperate research, attempting to isolate the purest, most fundamental essence of abyssal energy for self-enhancement while discarding the chaotic, malevolent impurities that warped the mind.
The journal revealed that Arno had developed a preliminary theoretical framework and methodology. Though still incomplete, the direction was clear; all that remained seemed to be rigorous experimentation to validate the details and fill in the gaps.
What particularly caught Roland's attention was a definitive statement Arno had written:
"The energy that exists in this world, whether it be the magic element that fills the heavens and earth or the shadow force that originates from the abyss, is inherently neither good nor evil."
"Strength is simply strength. Its true nature is always determined by the will that controls and wields it."
The subsequent sections detailed Arno's experimental logs, documenting his repeated attempts to evoke, separate, and purify the abyss's power. These records included extensive observational data, records of failures, and occasional brief moments of triumph.
Under the influence of the Focus trait, Roland's reading speed was astonishing. His mind functioned like the most precise instrument, efficiently processing the flood of information.
In mere moments, he had flipped through the entire notebook.
Every character, every hastily drawn diagram, was now indelibly imprinted in the depths of his mind.
Closing the notebook, Roland's eyes flickered with a complex light.
Arno's obsession and ambition were undeniable, but his insight into the true nature of strength and his almost mad pursuit of mastering the abyss revealed a chilling rationality and genius.
"Stripping away the abyss's side effects..."
Roland murmured the audacious idea to himself.
This was undoubtedly walking a razor-thin tightrope, but the theoretical path outlined in the notes hinted that it might not be entirely impossible.
If it truly succeeded...
Just as Roland was immersed in pondering and evaluating the notebook's contents, an extremely subtle tremor ran through the leather-bound volume in his hand.
Before he could react, the notebook began to fade slowly from his fingertips, losing its solidity like ink dissolving in water.
In the blink of an eye, it became completely transparent and vanished without a trace, as if forcibly stripped away by some invisible, absolute law.
Roland's pupils constricted sharply as he stared at his empty palm, alarm bells ringing in his mind.
Since acquiring the Plunder trait, nothing so bizarre had ever occurred.
Any spoils obtained through this trait, once manifested, seemed anchored to reality, with no precedent for spontaneous disappearance.
"Unless..."
Roland suddenly recalled the seemingly simple description of Plunder:
"Upon completely defeating a hostile creature, strip away all of its most precious possessions."
Could it be...
Arno hadn't truly died?
Had he been forcibly pulled back from the brink of death, even successfully resurrected?
If this theory held true, then according to the logic of that mysterious law, when the "defeated hostile creature" state ceased to exist, the spoils that had manifested due to his "defeat" would naturally be withdrawn, returning to their rightful owner...
The thought sent a chill down Roland's spine.
The abyss's strength was so unfathomable that it could blur, even transcend, the boundaries of death itself?
Yet before he could fully process this sudden turn of events, an even more astonishing change occurred.
Without warning, a line of text materialized in his vision.
But this was no radiant, gilded script like the kind that appeared when he awakened new skills or traits, nor the crimson-tinged with iron and glory that had marked his ascension to the Knight class.
Instead, it was a pure, all-consuming...
blackness.
Like the densest ink or the deepest midnight, it possessed a cold, silent weight, abruptly searing itself into his consciousness.
Gaze from the Abyss
(End of the Chapter)
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