The Sword Emperor Transmigrates

Wild Hunt was the only adventurer team classified as Rank S among the Atlantis Maritime Alliance. Among adventurers, they were widely regarded as being closer to legend than anyone else. After all, not even the renowned Aquamarine had reached Rank S in its prime.

The Golden Hind, now a true Masterpiece vessel, was as valuable as, if not more than, any treasure ship from the old ages.

The very name of Wild Hunt was born from ancient, ominous legends of a supernatural phenomenon where countless monsters raged out of control. When the title was first registered in Bermuda, most disregarded it as the folly of those who dared name themselves above their station.

However, through decades of proven exploits, Wild Hunt had silenced all mockery. What was once disregarded as pointlessly mysterious was now respected as an enigma. As such, many powerful figures of Atlantis sought a spot aboard their ship yet Drake allowed no one to join.

This time, however, was a rare exception.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

“Ho...” Corbin, standing to Drake’s left in the captain’s cabin of the Golden Hind, took in his surroundings with undisguised intrigue.

Head of the Order of the Light Dragon, in charge of the intelligence division of the Cardenas family, the best knights in terms of covert operations, Corbin’s desire for knowledge was as instinctive as a dragon’s thirst for treasure. Without any special power or the Dragon Eyes to aid his sight, he mentally absorbed every detail of the ship, his grin from ear to ear.

For a ship to utilize artifacts to this extent—enigmas even the Empire had failed to unravel in its search for the old era’s secrets—it was clear these men from the fringes were not to be underestimated.

“Interesting. Even the world’s finest appraiser would be hard-pressed to wield artifacts of the ancient era like this. You intrigue me more and more.”

“...Didn’t your White Dragon Commander say it himself? That I’m nothing more than a wanderer bound by the curse—or perhaps the blessing—of the old god.”

“Oh, you mean the fragment of Poseidon’s trident? To think you’re using an artifact empowered by the influence of the third-highest god among the Olympus pantheon.”

Corbin’s eyes darkened as he zeroed in on the crux of the Golden Hind’s power. The value of such information was beyond imagination. Just like the unique Mimong that Wade had once gifted Leonard, artifacts with rare abilities often ended up unused, gathering dust in storage. Combining several artifacts at once would often result in rejection or explosion due to their incompatibility with magic and aura alike.

Without extensive experimentation that used heavy resources, these artifacts were simply too rare and unpredictable to be harnessed safely.

Drake, was it? If it was possible to create someone artificially bound to the power of a high-ranking god like him, then it wouldn’t be a fantasy to imagine artifacts becoming exponentially more useful.

Originally, Corbin had been prepared to kill him at the slightest suspicion, but as he realized just how valuable Drake was, capturing him alive had become a far more profitable goal. The risk was outweighed by the potential merit—at least for now.

“Light Dragon Commander, is it?” Drake finally spoke up, his hands on the helm. “We’re well aware that we’re under your scrutiny. I understand where you’re coming from, and I know it’s impossible for us to prove ourselves beyond the shadow of a doubt.”

“Did you need to say that out loud? It only makes you more suspicious.”

“We might end up explaining ourselves anyway. The root of the mistrust toward Wild Hunt likely lies in the unclear traces we leave. I can’t reveal everything, but I’ll answer any question honestly.”

Corbin tilted his head thoughtfully. From his perspective, it was a proposal with little downside. With his experience as the Light Dragon Commander, he could easily detect deception, no matter how well-rehearsed it was. The longer one talked, the clearer any lies would become, so Drake’s openness was overwhelmingly advantageous.

“Very well. I was growing bored with this extended stay on the ship, so at least this will be a diversion.”

Every adventurer team had its own culture and atmosphere, making it difficult to find common ground outside their shared profession. Aquamarine, Zaratan, and Wild Hunt were no exception.

Aquamarine was known for its horizontal camaraderie between captain and crew, while Zaratan maintained vertical, business-like relations held by power and wealth. As for the Wild Hunt, what held them together was a mystery.

“The spirit of adventure,” Drake said without hesitation.

That was the original resolution that every registered adventurer in Bermuda had once possessed but eventually lost.

“Huh, a true adventurer’s answer,” Corbin scoffed with a dry chuckle. “So Wild Hunt is a band of people willing to risk their lives to explore the unknown?”

“Close enough. It’s a gathering of those who set their own course, regardless of status or origin. Ever since I was cursed by that trident to wander the seas, this tendency has only grown.”

The reason Wild Hunt’s deeds remained shrouded despite their formidable reputation was precisely this spirit. Every crew member, fitting of a Rank S team, could gain fame wherever they went, yet they were eccentrics who wandered the hidden realms, uninterested in wealth or frame.

The records filed in Bermuda revealed only a fraction of their exploits, with many ventures left unreported if they hadn’t stirred much of a commotion. In a way, the fact they received Rank S recognition despite concealing most of their activities was remarkable in itself.

The timeline and circumstances align. There’s no hint of deception or even exaggeration, and he sees the blessing of Poseidon’s trident fragment as a burden.

Of course, there wouldn’t be any certainty until the purge of the Outer God’s cult was concluded. But judging by Wild Hunt’s past conduct, Corbin’s doubts seemed to dissolve. He raised his evaluation of Drake and the Wild Hunt crew and shifted the conversation.

The story was only beginning, and he had a mountain of questions yet to ask.

Meanwhile, Leonard and his group were facing the Leviathan.

* * *

In the end, dividing the expedition into two groups to strike simultaneously proved close to an optimal strategy.

The worshippers of Scylla and Charybdis had secretly pledged a rare alliance, positioning themselves in the two most dimensionally connected points in the Sixth Sea District. One side would succeed if the other failed, dividing the spoils from the summoning ritual’s success in exact halves.

The only way to fully sabotage this summoning ritual was to sever both dimensional connections with a margin of error of less than a second. Communication was disrupted by the influence of the Sixth Sea District, and against creatures verging on the level of a True God, achieving such a feat seemed nearly impossible.

Fortunately, Leonard had managed to slip into an intense state of unity for a few seconds in the heat of battle, which helped him quickly grasp the situation. It was also fortunate that Leonard hadn’t joined Wild Hunt instead of Aquamarine.

—■■...Ποσει, ■■■...ιδῶν...■■...!

One thing Scylla and Charybdis had in common was a deep tie to the Olympians, ancient gods who had once ruled. They were beings who would have become True Gods of this world had they not been exiled. As such, they were more powerful and strong-willed than the others categorized as Outer Gods.

Scylla was the child of the Monstrous God Typhon and Echidna, and Charybdis was the offspring of Poseidon and Gaia, Chief God entities of the Olympus pantheon.

Had Drake been brought before Charybdis, who had taken the Leviathan as its host, it would have devoured him, stripping away its own divinity if necessary, to establish a new connection to Poseidon’s power and secure its descend into this world.

—■■■, ■■■■■...! Ποσειδῶν...!

However, to Scylla, the child of a Monstrous God who stood in opposition to the Personal Gods, Poseidon was nothing more than a natural enemy. Unlike Charybdis, devouring Drake would only create inner discord, the kind that would, quite literally, lead to indigestion.

The moment Wild Hunt invaded its domain, Scylla sensed Charybdis’s aura resonating in the distance.

—■■■■■■■■■■!!!

Simultaneously, Σκύλλα (the Ripper) embraced the surge within, projecting an aspect of itself.

Though the Sixth Sea District had long since morphed into a Corroded Realm, it hadn’t succumbed to corruption entirely, thanks largely to two key factors. First, the energies of Scylla and Charybdis neutralized each other to the point of near nullification. Despite becoming Outer Gods and fading in hostility, their Monstrous God and Personal God powers refused to harmonize. Second, their forces were being conserved for the ultimate descent ritual.

“What... is this?!”

Blessed with heightened perception, Corbin was naturally the first to realize that an entity of a higher order had arrived. Then came Drake’s realization, his entire frame now drenched in sweat as his sharp clothes grew damp and clung to him.

“A... monster.”

It was thanks to Poseidon’s blessing. At sea, Drake’s perceptual range was close to the Demigod Tier, capturing the terrifying noise of multiple worlds tearing apart.

Crack... Ssssh...

The boundary between dimensions—a threshold so formidable that even Class 9 supreme magic or conceptual martial arts could barely scratch it—split like tissue paper. Only True Gods could effortlessly tear through such a boundary.

Six serpent heads emerged simultaneously from the dimensional fissure. The Transcendence Tier warriors didn’t recognize the fissure for what it was, but they shuddered at the sight of the twelve blood-red eyes. Even the ordinary relics around them shattered.

“The true form of Σκύλλα(Scylla)...?! Or maybe an avatar!”

Not content with a mere projection, Scylla had detached a piece of her own body, casting it into this world. Spending all its accumulated power in the Sixth Sea District, the Outer God tore through the fabric of dimensions, sending part of herself crashing into the ocean and raising towering waves.

Krrrng, krrrrng, krrrrng—!!!

A tsunami-like wave surged forward, shoving the Golden Hind kilometers back. Though it didn’t capsize or sustain damage—as expected of a Masterpiece vessel—the sheer presence of this Outer God left the crew paralyzed, their teeth chattering in place.

Only Corbin managed to expand his aura, invoking a peculiar defense with his unique trait that encased the Golden Hind.

Hidden Blade

Silent Traceless Infiltration Technique

Shadow Dive

In the blink of an eye, the Golden Hind’s shadows widened and stretched beneath it like a gaping pit, swiftly engulfing the entire vessel.

“Wha-?!”

“Stay still! It’s my technique!”

Stopping Drake from moving the ship reflexively, Corbin swallowed a clot of blood that had formed in his throat due to his half-exhausted aura.

Although it was only a fragment, this monstrosity’s power exceeded even that of Demigods, so in order to fully conceal the Golden Hind from Scylla, Corbin would have to go all out and risk his life.

Though Shadow Dive had proven effective against Demigod Tier beings before, its effectiveness dwindled once a creature of this level locked onto its target.

—...■■■■■.

Sure enough, Scylla’s six heads lashed at the spot where the Golden Hind had vanished. Her amusement turned to menace as her blood-red eyes now glowed with an intense gleam, glaring at its prey with a sadistic smile.

The sight sent a chill down Corbin’s spine.

Screeeech!!

As Corbin released Shadow Dive, a beam scraped past the side of the vessel, cutting through the ocean deep enough to expose the seabed below.

Was it an attack? No. It was merely a glance—a fleeting sweep of those eyes, as if spotting a mouse hiding in the grass. Had they been struck directly, the Golden Hind would have been utterly obliterated, with or without those shadows.

Having narrowly avoided a direct hit, Corbin slapped Drake on the back and shouted, “We have to retreat, now!”

“Yes, understood!”

Drake snapped out of his trance, ordering the Golden Hind to accelerate, abandoning all dignity in their desperate retreat.

—■■! ■■■■! ■■■!!

As if relishing the chase, the six-headed serpent laughed with vile glee and launched into pursuit, its elation heightened by the thrill of returning to this world.

So began the race, where everything would be determined by whether the Golden Hind could reach the other expedition force first or become Scylla’s next meal.