Unholy Player-Chapter 185: What changed?

With Dalin now part of the team, the foundation Adyr had been building was finally complete. His circle had begun taking its first steps toward becoming a major force in this new world. While his Earth body focused on raising all its talents to Level 3, his other body was just finishing its daily sword training with Lucen.

"This is enough for now," Lucen said, sliding the long sword—still sheathed—onto his back. "You’re improving quickly, but rest is just as important as the training itself."

He paused, his tone taking on a more instructive edge. "For an ordinary person, it might make sense to focus on a single talent. But for practitioners like us, pouring all our energy and time into one is a poor investment. If you want to rise through the Ranks, you’ll need to develop the others with equal care."

Adyr dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment. "Thank you."

He didn’t need the reminder. He was well aware—and his Earth body was already handling exactly that.

Still, taking a break from sword training was necessary. He had other matters to deal with.

"I’m planning to go to the market area. Do you need anything?" He asked more out of courtesy than obligation.

His reason for going was practical: he still had a number of gears looted from the Cannibal’s headquarters. With only a bit over 100 energy worth of crystals left, he wanted to see if he could trade the equipment for some crystals.

While STF gear meant little to Rank 2 practitioners, it could still be valuable for Rank 1s. Selling it shouldn’t be too difficult—the only question was how much he could get for it.

Lucen shook his head. "I’ll return to the others. We need to confirm Colossith has fully withdrawn."

Adyr gave a small nod and, after agreeing to resume training the next morning, slipped off his jacket, spread his wings, and left Lucen’s mansion.

Before heading to the market district, he decided to stop by Draven Mansion. He had a few things to take care of—and more importantly, he needed to eat.

—

A few hours earlier, just as the monochrome sun began to take on its golden hue—and before Adyr had even acquired the [Sword Art of Existence] talent—a large crowd had already gathered in the garden of Draven Mansion. Their eyes, filled with anxious excitement, were fixed on the distant form of Colossith.

"It’s retreating!" One of the workers shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. He was among those who hadn’t left the garden for days, still dressed in dirt and grease, waiting and watching. And now, as the enormous Titan slowly turned and began to disappear into the horizon, he couldn’t contain himself.

His outburst became a spark. Other workers and knights joined in, some erupting into cheers that echoed across the garden, while others remained silent, tears trailing down weatherworn cheeks as they watched the Colossith withdraw.

Over the past 3 years, they had celebrated this same moment many times. Each time Colossith approached the outer walls and was forced back, it had been cause for relief. But this time was different.

This time, it wasn’t just that the catastrophe had been averted without casualties. It was the knowledge that they had been part of the defense. The design that had repelled the Titan—it had been built with their own hands. Their sweat. Their work.

For the first time, they didn’t feel powerless. And as their thoughts inevitably turned to the person who had made it all possible, their joy swelled with a deeper sense of gratitude.

Even the Lords—and the King himself—seemed caught up in the moment. From the mansion, fine bottles of wine, liqueurs, and exotic spirits were brought out and shared with the workers. No hierarchy remained. Only the high of shared victory.

And among them stood someone whose joy was quiet, yet no less deep.

Vesha watched the Titan retreat with a soft, genuine smile—one that hadn’t graced her face in a long time. Her ice-blue eyes shimmered with light, never once looking away from the fading Rank 4 Spark.

With every massive step the Titan took into the distance, it felt as though the weight she had carried for years was growing lighter. The shadowy thoughts about the future—ones she had never voiced aloud—began to dissolve into the nothingness beyond the horizon.

Ever since the day Sevrak’s Black Dragon had appeared in the sky, a quiet despair had taken root in her. But now, that darkness was beginning to fade.

"There’s no such thing as a hopeless problem... as long as hope still lives inside," she murmured, her golden hair catching the first full light of dawn.

There were countless forms of hope and miracles in the world, and for Vesha, it had taken the form of a man she met not long ago.

Not only kind and warmhearted, but also clever, capable, and strong enough to bend even the bleakest situations to his will.

As she stood lost in that quiet reflection, letting the soft breeze kiss her skin and hair, ignoring the loud celebration erupting around her, a single shouted phrase shattered her calm.

"Lord Adyr is coming!"

Her gaze snapped toward the voice, then quickly followed the pointed finger aimed at the sky. There, descending with grace, was the very embodiment of her hope, approaching with radiant white wings that caught the morning light like a divine omen.

The moment Adyr got close to the mansion’s great garden, every sound died at once.

Cheers dissolved into silent, measured breaths. The clinking of glasses was replaced by the heavy thud of racing hearts.

The knights straightened with ceremonial precision, placing their left hands on the hilts of their swords while forming fists over their chests with their right hands, saluting in solemn unity.

The peasant workers, unfamiliar with such formalities, mimicked the gesture with awkward sincerity, doing their best not to disrupt the reverent silence that had settled over the garden.

In the middle of it all, the flap of massive wings and the solid thud of boots meeting stone echoed like the closing of a sacred ritual.

Adyr paused.

He stood still, surveying the quiet crowd around him. His pristine wings gleamed under the golden sun like a spotlight had been cast on him from the heavens themselves. And with cold, unreadable eyes, he observed the sea of faces watching him in awe, filled with admiration, even love.

A faint, ironic thought stirred in him.

Look at the irony.

In his former life, the last time he had stood before a crowd, it had been strapped to an electric chair, staring back at a hall full of faces twisted in hatred, grief, rage, and contempt.

And now? Hundreds looked at him as if he were their salvation. Their hero.

What changed? He wondered.

Nothing...

Nothing had changed—except that no one had yet seen the monster still living beneath his skin.

That was all.

"Lord Adyr." Before even the King could step forward, it was Vesha who moved first.

"Your meal is prepared. I can have it sent to your room, if you’d like," she said with a soft, almost teasing smile, her expression full of quiet understanding.

For a moment, Adyr felt the urge to laugh—but instead, a faint smile touched his lips. "Thank you. I was actually feeling quite hungry."

Without another word, he followed her lead, leaving the weight of countless eyes behind as they stepped inside.

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