Unholy Player-Chapter 187: Umbraens

"The guys definitely deserve every raise," Adyr chuckled, eyeing the final state of the uniform.

It was more than tailor-made—it was an engineering marvel.

The fact that he no longer had to strip off his gear and jacket every time he wanted to use his wings was a major step forward.

Once everything was in place, he didn’t bother using the locked door to leave his room. Instead, he stepped into the sealed private garden adjacent to it. Summoning his wings, a single powerful beat lifted him into the air, and he departed the mansion.

Avoiding the crowd outside was both easier and faster this way.

As he glided toward the market district, he decided it was time to test another feature—one he hadn’t yet had the chance to explore. His Spark’s skill.

He activated Crystal Husk, one of the two skills of Duskrend, which he originally acquired to complete the second step of his evolution but had only subdued. Normally, Duskrend had two skills, like most Rank 2 Sparks: Crystal Husk and Wraith Glide. However, when a Spark was subdued, its owner could only access one skill, and for Adyr, that skill was Crystal Husk.

The moment he activated the skill, his snow-white wings began to change.

They rapidly lost their brightness, becoming translucent and dark, like jagged shards of blackened crystal. The setting sun, already draining the world of its color and shifting into monochrome, made the wings appear nearly invisible, camouflaged against the fading light.

To a distant observer, it would seem as if Adyr’s body alone was gliding through the sky, the wings imperceptible.

But concealment wasn’t the skill’s only advantage.

Despite their crystallization, the wings retained their flexibility—an unnatural fusion of solidity and movement. Rather than slowing him down, they sliced through the air with even greater efficiency, enhancing his speed.

Their durability had also increased, and the edges had sharpened. The wingtips now resembled blades—razor-thin, combat-ready. The only drawback was the energy cost—around 0.1 energy per second—but the benefits it provided were unquestionable.

The compatibility was perfect.

Crystal Husk enhanced his flight speed, provided visual concealment, boosted defense, and added a direct offensive capability—all in one skill—perfectly synergizing with Adyr’s skill set and evolution build.

For a moment, he felt like a game character—equipping class-specific gear, distributing stat points accordingly, and selecting skills that synergized with his build.

Well... technically, I am a game character, Adyr thought, amused as he glided through the air.

Even in his previous life, he had always been someone who sought growth—constantly learning, refining his abilities, and pushing his limits. But now, the ability to evolve through effort and deliberate planning, to see that progress manifest so visibly, brought a kind of satisfaction that ran deep.

Gliding calmly through the air, Adyr moved like a tourist enjoying unfamiliar lands—content, at ease, and quietly satisfied with his new life. He took in the landscape as he flew, eventually reaching the outskirts of the market area.

From a distance, something was noticeably different.

The massive white tent still stood at the center, surrounded by smaller white ones as before, but this time, the crowd was far denser.

Compared to his previous visits, the number of people had easily quadrupled—if not more.

Looks like this Legacy Domain event has drawn a lot of attention. Adyr descended before getting too close.

Technically, flying over this zone was frowned upon—an unspoken rule of respect. And now, with rumors circulating that the market’s owner, a Rank 5 Adept, had returned, people were being even more mindful of it.

As he entered the market area on foot, the tension in the air hit him almost immediately. The excitement, the anticipation—it was all unmistakable.

Practitioners from every race were scattered across the space. Some were likely from neighboring kingdoms, others possibly wanderers with no allegiance, drawn here by rumors alone.

Just from a single glance, Adyr estimated that there were no fewer than 400 to 500 Rank 1 and Rank 2 practitioners present.

If what Liora Virell had told him was accurate—that the Wandering Merchant would be selecting Rank 1 and Rank 2 practitioners to enter the Legacy Domain—then the number of candidates was already overwhelming.

He didn’t even know how large the domain was supposed to be, yet he couldn’t help thinking this many people felt excessive.

Maybe he’ll just send the Rank 2s. The thought crossed his mind as he walked slowly through the crowd, observing everything in silence.

And even among Rank 2s alone, there were at least a hundred, just from what he could see.

While observing their faces, mannerisms, and interactions, Adyr continued scanning the tents, looking for a suitable shop to sell the equipment he had looted from the Cannibal.

Then, a loud voice nearby caught his attention. freewebnøvel.coɱ

"You can’t enter this shop."

"What do you mean I’m not allowed inside? Do you have any idea who I am?"

In front of a small white tent tucked between the larger ones, a tall, lean figure stood blocking the entrance. His skin had a deep, ocean-blue hue, stretched tight over long limbs that gave him an almost serpentine posture. Around his neck, faint ridges pulsed rhythmically—gill-like slits that flared and collapsed with each breath.

Adyr studied him from a distance. Looks like some kind of aquatic race.

The shopkeeper stood with his arms crossed, his yellow slit-pupiled eyes narrowed and fixed on the group in front of him—five individuals who clearly weren’t welcome.

They were striking in appearance. Each of them had long, jet-black hair, skin so pale it seemed to reflect the light, and completely black eyes without even a trace of white. But what drew Adyr’s attention most were the glistening scales trailing from their chests up their necks like layered armor.

He’d seen those features before.

Umbraens. Same race as Sevrak, the Dragon Rider.

"You Umbraens are not welcome in my shop. Leave before this turns into something bigger," the shopkeeper said, his slitted yellow eyes fixed on them with disdain. His arms were crossed, and his wide, fish-like mouth twisted in contempt.

His tone wasn’t raised, but it carried weight—firm, final, and coated in disdain.

"So that’s it? You’ve got something personal against all Umbraens?" Asked the one standing at the front of the group—a young man, by the looks of it. His posture, the way he held himself, and the respectful spacing of the others behind him made it clear he was their leader.

"I do," the shopkeeper replied without hesitation. "You got a problem with that?"

The young Umbraen didn’t answer right away. He stared at the man with those flat, pitch-black eyes—unblinking, unreadable.

Then he spoke, his voice low and deliberate. "My name is Kharom. Grandson of Sevrak, the Dragon Rider. You’d do well to remember it."

It wasn’t a boast. It was a warning. One delivered without theatrics, just calm certainty. Then, with a sharp glance at his group, he turned and walked away.

The others followed.

The blue-skinned shopkeeper watched them go, then spat on the ground behind them.

"Cowards. Backstabbers. As if I’d fear filth like you," he muttered.

His voice was low but loud enough for Kharom to hear. The Umbraen didn’t react—he simply kept walking.

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