Chapter 004
“Haa… haa…”
Just a few swings of the sword and he was already out of breath.
Having only just awakened, his stamina was weak.
His hand trembled violently after releasing the sword.
Part of it was due to the fire damage from the Blacksmith’s Wrath, but mostly it was because his body was completely untrained.
Lacking both stamina and strength.
Too weak—pathetically so.
Just killing an F-rank villain barely mentioned in mythology had drained him to this extent.
It was a stark reminder that his body had yet to be tempered.
‘What if I didn’t even have this sword?’
It would have been far more difficult.
“Damn it.”
So, this is how weak I used to be.
‘I need training.’
Had both his mind and body returned together, Periphetes would have been an easy kill.
But what did that matter now?
What mattered was the present.
He would have to defeat countless enemies far stronger than Periphetes in the future.
He couldn’t stay like this.
Before he even faced the gods of humanity, he would fall to their apostles.
The only slight comfort—
‘Was gaining a bit of power thanks to the level-up of the Chronicle.’
When the Chronicle’s level rose, his body felt lighter.
The blisters and burns caused by the Blacksmith’s Wrath had completely healed.
He could feel both a recovery in stamina and a distinct increase in strength.
He liked it.
Not just the addition of new skills—but the fact that there were other ways to grow stronger.
‘Enough with the sentimental thoughts about growth.’
After glancing briefly at Periphetes’s corpse, he turned toward the Abyss.
The Labyrinth of Herpa.
There was no intel on how to conquer it, so even he didn’t know what lay at its end.
But exiting the Abyss wasn’t an option.
If someone saw him emerge, and followed the trail, Hephaestus would figure out he was the killer.
Therefore—
“I’ll conquer this Abyss before anyone else arrives.”
If certain conditions were met, the Abyss could be conquered and sealed.
Until then, it would not close, and it had a self-repairing nature that maintained its form like a living world.
With luck, Periphetes’s corpse would vanish with the Abyss. If not, it would appear in a slightly different spot, making it harder to find.
‘Even that would buy some time.’
Furthermore—
‘If there’s no trace that I did it, Hephaestus will likely pin the blame on someone else.’
The Blacksmith’s Wrath was Hephaestus’s greatest failure, hidden where no ordinary person could find it.
He’d never suspect a human had taken it. He’d look elsewhere.
That “elsewhere” being—
‘Ares.’
Aphrodite’s lover and now her remarried husband—the god of war, Ares.
The root cause behind this failed creation, and the god Hephaestus held a personal grudge against.
With his dull thinking, Hephaestus would only suspect Ares.
And once convinced, he wouldn’t change his mind.
That’s exactly what he was counting on.
Discord among the gods.
‘Weaken Hephaestus through a clash with Ares, then strike.’
But as he was now—even if the gods were weakened through internal strife, he couldn’t say for sure he could beat them.
He had to grow stronger.
He picked up the steel pipe he had used to first enter the Abyss and moved deeper into the labyrinth.
* * *
The last kobold hiding deep in the labyrinth had its head sliced clean off.
Even with his limited stamina, kobolds weren’t much of a threat.
Their crude, instinct-driven attacks were easy to evade, and with a well-placed strike to a vital point, he could take them down.
‘Reminds me of the old days.’
Back when he had no divine blessing, survival meant knowing everything about monsters.
He had to know more than anyone, train harder than anyone.
So he memorized countless monster weaknesses and strengths.
That was the only power he had.
The first time he hunted goblins, it was the same.
Would they be weak to fire? Maybe scared of water? Where should I stab to kill them?
He conducted countless experiments.
That was how he survived—without blessings, without reliable comrades.
Even Hades and the Underworld King had once said—
—“A soul worth coveting.”
They had wanted to absorb him and make his power their own.
Damn bastards.
‘Why do I have to remember that now?’
A truly unpleasant memory.
“I need more power.”
Just knowing the future didn’t mean he could predict everything.
Take this labyrinth, for instance.
Even he, who had lived through the future, didn’t know everything.
The Labyrinth of Herpa had never been conquered during his time.
‘Use everything I can.’
Now that he had resolved to use even the gods’ weapons, it was time to search for hidden relics he could obtain now.
He needed them to prepare for what was to come.
‘I might be alone for now, but I can’t fight alone forever.’
He needed allies he could trust—those not yet corrupted by the gods.
‘I’ll recruit later. For now, focus on growing stronger.’
He was still far too weak.
‘My arm still aches.’
Even with the Chronicle’s level-up, just one stab had left his muscles aching like they had torn apart.
Panting after killing a dozen kobolds—talking about killing gods like this?
Laughable.
The only reason he had managed to kill Periphetes was because the man had been careless.
But the more divine slayings he committed, the more vigilant the gods would become.
‘To grow stronger, I’ll need relics not yet discovered.’
Having slain the last kobold, he finally reached the end of the labyrinth.
There was nothing special at the end.
So easy it was almost laughable.
‘Which is probably why Periphetes chose this Abyss.’
Low-level hunters came here, and even if something went wrong, he could handle it himself.
That was the Labyrinth of Herpa.
At the end stood a statue of a fairy cloaked in robes.
Over four meters tall.
Carved with extreme precision, it looked like a real fairy turned to stone.
But her expression was gentle—not one of torment, but of peace.
Like a mother embracing all.
Beneath the massive statue was written the name “Herpa.”
Same as the labyrinth.
“This woman… Herpa?”
A face he had never seen.
He didn’t know all mythological beings, but the name and face were entirely new.
‘Maybe a foreign god born from the Abyss?’
It seemed likely.
Like the Destroyer God Xenon, these beings had their own titles in the otherworld.
‘Is this the real Herpa? Or a statue infused with her thoughts?’
He remained alert in case the statue suddenly did something.
But nothing happened.
There was no flow of mana, no sign of a trap.
Just an ordinary statue.
As he stepped closer, writing beneath Herpa’s name caught his eye:
“Only one worthy of destroying all may take Herpa’s Branch.”
A branch?
Only then did he notice the thick “branch” she held.
It was thicker and longer than a grown man’s forearm—more like a club than a branch.
Looking closely—
“Black iron?”
It was black iron—found only in the Iron Forest of Yggdrasil.
It looked like wood, but its properties were like metal. Properly smelted, it could forge weapons stronger than any other material.
“This is the reward?”
He had heard this labyrinth wasn’t worth conquering due to poor rewards.
But this was far too generous for a D-rank Abyss.
“Only one worthy of destroying all may take Herpa’s Branch.”
‘Worthy of destruction…’
He suddenly remembered the “Catastrophe of Destruction” registered in the Chronicle.
The skill he gained from killing Xenon.
He had used it to return to the past—but its record remained.
‘Could it be…’
He placed his hand on the branch in the statue’s grip.
Clang!
The statue opened its eyes.
—“A human…?”
Her eyes widened as they met his.
A look of disbelief.
—“How curious. Why do you possess that one’s power?”
“You mean Xenon?”
—“…Astounding.”
She didn’t even listen to him—just kept expressing amazement.
—“I waited hundreds of years, and it turns out I was waiting for a human with his power. It must be fate.”
“Herpa. Am I worthy?”
—“You are still weak, but you have the qualifications to become a great being.”
“Good. If you had said I wasn’t, I’d have smashed your head.”
Now that he knew she was connected to foreign gods, she was no different from the divine beings he had to kill.
Gods of humanity or gods of other worlds—it didn’t matter. They all had to die.
—“Spare me your threats. I have no desire to fight you.”
“Then I’ll take it.”
She stared at him.
The towering statue over four meters tall—its gaze was chilling.
—“Of course. Take it whenever you wish.”
With that, she handed him the black iron club she had been holding close.
He gripped the weapon, and she gave him a faint smile.
—“My task is complete. May you become a great one.”
As she bowed her head, the Abyss shook violently.
Light surrounded him—and the scenery changed.
Flash!
When he opened his eyes again, he was on a mountainside overlooking Namsan Tower.
Far from Yeongdeungpo, where he had first entered the Abyss.
Old Abysses always did this when conquered.
Some sort of spatial distortion—after conquering, people would be dropped somewhere randomly nearby.
Sometimes even in the sea.
Or, like now, in a forest.
‘As long as the result’s good, who cares.’
The Labyrinth of Herpa was gone, and Periphetes’s corpse had either vanished or been randomly scattered.
No one would think he died inside the Abyss.
Though considered a useless failure, Periphetes was still the son of a god.
Even though Theseus killed him in mythology without much fuss, it seemed he wasn’t a beloved child.
Hephaestus had always shown disturbing indifference toward his failures.
Maybe Periphetes killed for fun just to get his father’s attention.
‘Well, this time he’ll get it.’
He had been killed by a weapon born of Hephaestus’s own trauma—a failure.
‘Hopefully Hephaestus wastes plenty of time going head-to-head with Ares as planned.’
He had killed a necessary villain, leveled up the Chronicle, and discarded a sacred relic from Loki’s Magic Box—but the discarded sword had already served a greater purpose than its worth.
And he could always get more weapons like that.
“Black iron.”
If he could refine it properly—
“Herpa…”
She had been strangely kind to him.
A god from another world? Or maybe a fairy?
Her identity was unclear, but she had mentioned “his power” in him.
‘Judging by the inscription, it’s probably Xenon…’
But other possibilities couldn’t be ruled out.
For example—
—“Yes. You are the true trial. He foresaw all of this. Kill me. Become the trial for those wretched gods.”
The words Xenon had said when he died before the regression—about “him.”
“Another thing to consider.”
It was complicated.
He had never expected the road ahead to be easy—after all, he had returned to the past.
But there was still so much he didn’t know.
“Enough with the headache. Let’s head home.”
Now was the time to keep things simple and focus on his goal.
First: become stronger.
‘I’ll think about killing gods once I can do it effortlessly.’
With that, he began descending the mountain swiftly.
* * *
Back home, he looked around his room.
‘It’s been a while.’
He never thought he’d return here.
He had left this place expecting to die as part of the final expedition.
And yet, here he was—alive, and returned to the past.
“I’m home, Mother. Father.”
He gently touched the family photo atop the living room drawer.
His parents—and his younger sister, Heejin.
“Heejin…”
A moment of brief reunion.
But lingering would be a luxury.
There was too much to do.
First—
‘I need to figure out my limits.’
What was his current state?
How strong could he become?
