Unholy Player-Chapter 149: Buying new Spark (Part 2)

"It depends on the route you want to take. Defense, raw power, active skills, mobility, support," the lizardman listed off indifferently, his tone flat. "My suggestion is defense and mobility. It syncs best with the Dawn Raven’s wings and its regeneration through life force."

Adyr gave a slight nod to show he understood. He didn’t interrupt or ask a follow-up question—he didn’t want the man to count it as a second inquiry and demand payment.

The lizardman narrowed his eyes, scanning him with mild scrutiny before continuing.

"The Astra Path, by nature, leans toward physical strength, so your next evolution will likely involve a Spark with a physical bias. But if you want my advice, choose one with high defense. Those wings might give you mobility, but on a chaotic battlefield, they’ll also make you an easy target, especially with how bright and flashy they look."

He gave a single flap of his own pristine white wings, illustrating the point.

"I understand. Thank you," Adyr replied with a short bow.

The insight wasn’t new. It aligned with what he’d already suspected. Still, it wasn’t worthless—it solidified the direction he was planning to take.

As someone walking all four paths, Adyr didn’t have to rely solely on Astra-based Sparks. If he prioritized defense during his Rank 2 evolution, it made more sense to select a Spark aligned with [Resilience]—a trait tied to the Nether Path. That would allow him to fully leverage the advantage of being a four-path practitioner, something no one else seemed able to comprehend.

Without saying another word, Adyr turned and began walking toward the main pavilion.

"Is that all?" The lizardman called after him in a half-mocking tone. "You could’ve at least looked inside if you weren’t going to buy anything."

When Adyr didn’t respond, the man clicked his tongue and leaned back against the tent frame, returning to the stillness of someone waiting for a customer who may never come.

As Adyr stepped into the massive white tent, even though he’d seen it before, he still found himself briefly impressed.

Right at the center of the space, looming like the centerpiece of a ritual, was a colossal skeletal corpse. Its bleached skull pierced the ceiling’s fabric with jagged horns, as if the body had been too massive to be contained by walls. It hadn’t moved an inch since his last visit—yet its silent presence still radiated authority and grandeur.

Adyr paused, suppressing the subtle pull of reverence that tried to rise in his chest. Then, once composed, he walked deeper into the market.

This time, he had no intention of visiting the goat-headed vendor’s shop. He’d already inspected every Spark available there—and found none worth evolving with. More importantly, he didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention. Visiting the same merchant again, especially one as perceptive as that, risked raising questions he didn’t want to answer.

Instead, he scanned the area until he found the staircase that spiraled gently upward to the second level—the floor where Rank 2 Sparks were traded.

Even the air changed as he ascended.

It was denser here. Heavier. Almost oppressive.

Unlike the more chaotic and eclectic first floor, the second level radiated a focused pressure. There were fewer people, but every figure that walked these halls exuded presence. Each one was stronger—colder—sharper. Their expressions were unreadable, their movements minimal and controlled.

Adyr kept his posture relaxed, his pace slow. He didn’t stare at anyone for too long. Just a man browsing, unbothered, composed.

He moved through the space like a shadow gliding through a crowd, letting his senses guide him as he searched for something specific: a shop specializing in Nether-aligned Sparks.

They weren’t hard to identify.

Shops that specialized in Nether-aligned Sparks tended to have a darker, more oppressive atmosphere. The air around them felt thicker—heavier—as if laced with the residue of something long dead but not yet gone. Just approaching their entrances gave the sense of crossing a threshold, not just into a shop, but into something older, colder, and far more indifferent than the world outside.

Those attuned to cold carried a sharp, biting chill. Not a simple breeze, but a dense, bone-deep freeze that seemed to crawl under the skin and settle in the lungs. The kind of cold that made your breath feel like it was turning to glass with each inhale. The floor beneath was often slick or frost-lined, and the air hung heavy with a damp, metallic stillness, as if every molecule had been frozen in place.

In contrast, shops aligned with heat radiated a suffocating intensity. The temperature wasn’t searing, but stifling—humid, thick, and charged with survival instinct. It clung to the skin like a second layer, coaxing sweat from the brow and tension from the nerves. The kind of atmosphere that made you feel like something was always watching, waiting for the moment you dropped your guard.

It’s not surprising Eren improved so fast, Adyr thought.

Recalling the notes Eren had given him, he remembered that the region—more specifically, the kingdom—was heavily populated by Nether practitioners. These practitioners were known for their darker methods and ruthless disposition. Surviving in such an environment was undoubtedly more demanding than the smooth, almost sheltered progression possible in the Velari Kingdom. It required grit, adaptability, and constant vigilance.

Of course, risk always came paired with reward. For those who could endure the weight of it, every day survived brought strength. In that sense, Eren’s rapid growth was only natural.

After wandering through a few Nether-path shops, Adyr narrowed his search further. He began looking for something more specific—something aligned with the ambient tone of his own Dawn Land. It couldn’t be too cold or too hot, too dead or too teeming with life. It had to sit perfectly in between—balanced, stable, and subtly alive.

Eventually, he found it.

The shop’s entrance was a weathered wooden door without any windows—plain, aged wood without polish or embellishment. The atmosphere inside revealed itself immediately through the faint light seeping from the seams.

It wasn’t bright or cheerful, nor bleak and oppressive. It was dimly lit—just enough for the eye to adjust without strain. The air leaned toward cool, not in a biting way, but with a calming chill that whispered of stillness and silence.

Inside, unlike the goatman’s shop, there were no towering shelves or neatly categorized displays. Items weren’t stacked or aligned but rather scattered across the space in loose groupings, as though placed by instinct rather than design.

But the most striking detail was the ceiling.

A massive rock formation had overtaken it, forming a kind of inverted terrain—like an ecosystem built upside down. Jagged outcroppings of stone stretched across the upper space, interwoven with veins of minerals and crystalline structures in varying colors. Hints of deep violet, muted blues, and silver traced through the rock like a frozen lightning storm.

And it was alive.

Among the formations, creatures moved freely—some winged, resembling bats, but with bodies that looked as if sculpted from solid stone. Others, shaped like owls, shimmered with faint blue light as crystal feathers extended from their bodies instead of plumage, their movements slow and graceful in the dimness.

They fluttered between stalactite-like ledges, their forms catching the dim light in glints of mineral hue. Some were barely distinguishable from the stone itself, blending so perfectly that only the shifting glow betrayed their presence.

Beneath them, metallic worms—thick-bodied and ridged with armor-like plating—crawled silently along the stone surfaces, some clinging upside down, others dragging themselves across the vertical walls. Their movements were slow, deliberate, and oddly synchronized.

As Adyr stepped deeper into the space, his eyes sharpened. Shapes he had initially assumed were part of the terrain began to shift—statuesque forms with crystalline cores pulsing faintly beneath layers of mineral and dust.

And then the system messages confirmed it.

They were all Sparks. Every still form, every glimmer of motion, every flicker of light in the stone—they were alive.

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