Chapter 003
Loki, the God of Mischief.
A child of the giants, the Jötnar, and the sworn brother of Odin, the supreme deity of Norse mythology.
A god infamous for deceiving not only gods and humans, but even demons with his tricks and schemes.
His nickname: The Trickster.
And now, the prank of that notorious fraudster had taken root in me.
“I never imagined you’d give me something like this.”
The purple box vanished, and I looked at the item now in my hand.
[Blacksmith’s Wrath – Grade B]
[Description 1]: A longsword forged from the wrath of a blacksmith who lost his wife. The soul of a master artisan is imbued within. It boasts high attack power but has intense recoil.
[Description 2]: This weapon is a failure.
[Effect]: Anyone unworthy who wields this will suffer fire damage.
[Warning]: At your current level, you cannot withstand the damage.
A crimson longsword.
The scabbard bore the engraving of roaring flames.
It was only a B-grade weapon—and cursed to harm its user—seemingly a dud.
But I knew the weapon’s secret.
This was the greatest failure ever forged by the god of blacksmiths, Hephaestus.
“Damn bitch… bastard…! I’ll kill them all!!”
When Hephaestus discovered the affair between his wife, Aphrodite, and Ares, he was consumed by rage and pounded his hammer. The weapon born of that pure fury was so unstable and terrifying that it was practically unusable—a disastrous failure.
Once his rage subsided, Hephaestus felt so disgusted with himself as a craftsman that he didn’t even name the blade.
This weapon, unrecorded in any myth, was now in my hand.
Even without unsheathing it, I could feel Hephaestus’s fury toward Ares and Aphrodite radiating from the blade.
“Truly, a prank of fate.”
To Hephaestus, this sword was a fatal blunder, a reminder of his wife’s betrayal and his own trauma.
If anyone else had opened that box, they’d have thrown the weapon away as worthless.
A B-grade cursed sword as a divine gift? Ridiculous.
But to me, right now, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say it was the best possible outcome.
The reason was simple.
I was on my way to kill Hephaestus’s own son.
Periphetes—a son of Hephaestus, depicted in myth as a villain slain by Theseus.
One of the sons Hephaestus himself labeled a failure, sharing the same limp as his father.
I remembered clearly how he used to limp around, beating guild members with his club.
But that wasn’t the only reason I chose him as my first target.
In short—he was a villain.
Just like in mythology, his hobby was murdering innocent people with a club.
He took pleasure in ambushing hunters exploring the Abyss.
He even enjoyed the look on their faces when they realized someone they trusted had betrayed them.
Even though harming them was of no benefit to him, he did it for fun.
His crimes were exposed later, but because he was a god’s son, he was released without real punishment.
I won’t let that happen again.
This wasn’t about justice.
But…
“Kyaaaagh!”
“P-Please spare me…”
“O-O Sun God… why…?”
I could still see my former comrades dying, betrayed by gods.
I wasn’t close enough to swear vengeance in their names…
Disgusting.
When I absorbed the power of apostles and hunters alike, the gods had smiled—and that smile was sickening.
Periphetes was only the beginning of my revenge.
Not for some grand mission to save humanity.
But to uphold my belief of never trusting gods, to stop their ambitions, and to carry out vengeance.
With the Blacksmith’s Wrath at my waist, I hurried out of the subway.
Time was of the essence.
I was going to kill Periphetes, son of Hephaestus.
The Abyss.
A dimensional rift torn open by a god from another world trying to descend into our plane.
We called the flood of monsters and otherworldly deities pouring from this rift the Great Descent.
Depending on which god opened the Abyss, the types and power of monsters varied.
Though the Great Descent is over, many Abysses still remain unconquered.
Some were too dangerous.
Some were too expensive to restore after conquest.
Some existed for human convenience.
The untouched Abysses became dungeons targeted by guilds—and also strengthened their faith.
By conquering Abysses, guilds earned better weapons and items, grew stronger, and deepened their worship.
Many guilds even raided Abysses to amplify their divine powers.
The Abyss didn’t just house monsters—it held secrets of the gods and human history.
Some contained divine relics, prompting guilds to race in hopes of retrieving the relics of their gods.
Hephaestus’s guild was raiding the Gragas Abyss, chasing a rumor that his relic was hidden there.
Even now, somewhere in the world, another Abyss was opening, spawning monsters and attracting new raiders.
The gods relentlessly sought new Abysses, scouring them with apostles and guild members for relics.
So, to encounter Hephaestus’s guild, one might expect to go to the Gragas Abyss.
But—
Not everyone shares the same objective.
I headed not to Gragas, but to a D-grade Abyss in Yeongdeungpo: the Maze of Herfa.
It opened three years ago, and despite its difficulty and complex layout, its poor rewards led it to be abandoned.
The gods never considered unsealed Abysses to be a serious threat.
They figured that if no more monsters emerged—or if the few could be easily handled—it wasn’t worth sealing.
But during the Second Great Descent, monsters gushed from supposedly conquered Abysses.
If only people had known… they would’ve sealed them all with everything they had.
Newbie hunters with a spirit of adventure tried to tackle these places, but most failed or went missing.
The Maze of Herfa—that’s where Periphetes hunted for sport.
I checked my weapons before entering.
All I had were the Blacksmith’s Wrath and a steel pipe I’d picked up at a construction site.
Not even basic armor.
Because I couldn’t afford any.
In the hunter economy, 30,000 won couldn’t even buy a potion.
But it didn’t matter.
Even without armor or potions—
As long as I don’t get hit, it’s fine.
The monsters weren’t particularly strong—only the traps required caution.
Traps set by Periphetes himself.
“Let’s go.”
I opened the gate to the Abyss.
Inside, I smashed the head of a charging kobold.
Crunch!
“Kieeek!”
Its skull burst, and it collapsed, blood spurting.
I picked up a rusty scimitar from a nearby goblin.
Though I had the Blacksmith’s Wrath, I didn’t need a god-slaying weapon for goblins.
The grip was short, but I was used to such weapons. With no skills, I’d survived using whatever I could.
I split a kobold’s snout in half, took its pickaxe, and slashed the next monster’s hand.
“Kiee…!”
It died mid-scream, silenced by a single clean strike.
These monsters didn’t require stabbing techniques.
I advanced deeper into the maze.
Suddenly, I felt eyes watching me.
Now.
Whoosh!
An arrow trap flew from the side, aiming for my right eye.
I dodged, anticipating it—only for the floor beneath to collapse.
I sidestepped, using the wall to push off. More eyes followed me, now openly observing.
It’s him.
Periphetes.
The hunter waiting for prey to step into his trap.
A sticky, disgusting gaze of a killer.
Swoosh!
I blocked a thrown spear with my rusty blade.
Clang!
The impact shattered the scimitar—its job done.
Then—
“Ah! Are you okay?”
Periphetes appeared, feigning innocence with a pure expression.
Moments ago, his eyes had been brimming with murderous intent.
“You must be a new hunter, judging by how you got lost. This Abyss is too dangerous to explore alone. That path is safer—you should head back.”
His limp gait stirred sympathy.
How many had he killed to become so shameless?
“There really are a lot of traps. I almost got hit. Who set them all?”
“…Good question. I wonder who…”
Liar.
He didn’t even flinch at the bait.
“By the way, how did you come from the front?”
“I entered just a while ago. I was on my way out, thinking it was too hard to proceed…”
“Really? I didn’t see any traps triggered in that direction. How did you know there were many traps if you hadn’t experienced them?”
His face, once all smiles, began to turn cold.
“…I don’t understand what you’re implying. Could you be more specific…”
He took a step forward.
I felt the bloodlust.
“How do you know about traps you’ve never encountered? It’s almost like you set them yourself.”
“……”
“You set them, didn’t you? Periphetes.”
His smile vanished. The playful eyes sharpened.
“…You’re sharp. How did you know?”
“No reason to tell you.”
“You’ll talk eventually. I’ll make you.”
No anger on his face—only delight.
Joy that someone knew of his killings.
And that someone was—
“That sword… it carries my father’s power. Did he send you?”
Hephaestus.
Periphetes assumed I was from the guild because I carried a sword made by his father.
That’s why…
He sounded thrilled.
“No.”
“What?”
“I said no. Hephaestus didn’t send me.”
“Tch. Damn it. I actually got my hopes up. Thought my father finally acknowledged me.”
He glared, smile gone.
His expression shifted in an instant—pure bloodlust.
“Then why are you holding my father’s weapon?”
“You don’t need to know.”
Periphetes raised his club.
I drew the Blacksmith’s Wrath from its scabbard.
[Blacksmith’s Wrath – Grade B]
[Description 1: A longsword forged from the rage of a blacksmith who lost his wife. The soul of a master is imbued. High attack, severe recoil.]
[Description 2: This weapon is a failure.]
[Effect: Fire damage to unworthy users.]
[Warning: Current level cannot withstand the damage.]
The flames in the sword began to burn my hand.
“Ghhk!”
It felt like my entire body was on fire.
The heartbreak, the fury of the blacksmith consumed me.
The pain was excruciating—like my arms were melting.
The smell of burning flesh was nauseating.
But my grip didn’t loosen.
Compared to everything I’d endured—this was nothing.
My family had burned alive in a fire far worse than this.
My sister had died in a hospital, suffering even more.
“Oppa… it hurts so much… I think I’m going to die…”
The moment I chose to use divine power, I’d accepted this pain.
And so—I endured.
“Huff, huff…”
I swung the sword while recalling a mantra I’d always muttered during pain in my past life.
Clang!
Periphetes’s club, aiming for my head, met my sword.
“You crazy bastard! You blocked with that hand?”
“It’s over.”
“…What?”
“Your last chance.”
Even with the searing hilt, I remained calm.
Periphetes flinched—then smirked hideously.
“Shut up and die!”
Whoosh!
He swung again toward my neck.
I blocked again.
Such a simple, predictable move.
Left shoulder.
As expected, he aimed for my shoulder.
I dodged easily.
And struck in the opening it created.
Squelch!
“Gahk!”
I stabbed his chest—over and over.
A technique I’d practiced countless times.
Though my body was still weak—my knowledge sufficed.
“Gahk!”
Just that was enough to pierce a body with zero training.
He stared at me, stunned.
“Y-You bastard… How…?”
“Told you. That was your last chance.”
“Gahk!”
He collapsed in a pool of blood, leaving no final words.
A beam of light rose from his corpse and entered me.
[You have defeated ‘The Club-Wielding Man,’ Periphetes.]
[As a reward, his skill is now recorded in the Chronicle.]
[The Club-Wielding Man – Grade F]
Skill: Arrogant Courage
Effect: Increases HP and Attack Power by 15%, but reduces damage resistance by 15%. (Duration: 5 minutes)
[Chronicle level has increased.]
[Chronicle Lv. 2]
[Current entries: 2 – Calamity of Destruction – EX, The Club-Wielding Man – F]
[More skills unlock at Lv. 5.]
[Skills available for registration: 2]
[You may now temporarily use skills from mythical beings.]
[To level up the Chronicle: Defeat another mythical being. 0/1]
[Eligible targets: Heroes, Legendary Beasts, Mythical Gods]
A new skill was added to my Chronicle.
Still F-rank, but my first skill obtained through the Chronicle.
I registered Arrogant Courage.
[Arrogant Courage has been registered.]
[Removing this skill will result in permanent seal.]
Permanent seal on removal, huh… I’ll need to be cautious with future registrations.
I looked down at Periphetes’s corpse.
He had died here in the Abyss, just like the others he killed.
I didn’t bother pulling the Blacksmith’s Wrath from his chest.
The sight of the sword would remind Hephaestus of Aphrodite and Ares’s betrayal.
And in that rage, he wouldn’t notice anything else.
Like the possibility that a mere human, unblessed by gods, could kill his son.
That’s enough.
Let his anger blind him.
Just like when he forged this cursed blade.
