Overgeared - Chapter 1539

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Chapter 1539

Chepardea’s tongue was very long. It could stretch out for a long distance even after wrapping around dozens of logs. It meant that the part of the tongue that was being wielded like a whip to squeeze Leraje’s neck was but only a small part of it.

“I have lived long enough to see this. Croak.”

Chepardea’s round eyes stared at the part of his tongue that was severed. It fell at Leraje’s feet, flapped around like it was resentful, and messed up the carpet. It was like a big leech or a catfish.

“I didn’t know I would see a world where the aloof Sword Saint would come and go from hell. Croak.”

Chepardea was Baal’s subordinate and had lived for a long time. He wasn’t comparable to the three evils of the beginning or the single digit great demons, but at the very least, he had experienced the fall of the previous world and the beginning of this world. Naturally, he had witnessed several Sword Saints and he identified their common tendencies.

They were crazy about the sword. They used whatever they held in their hand as the sword. If they had nothing to hold, then they used themselves as the sword. They spent decades trying to make the sword one with their heart. Additionally, after reaching the peak of swordsmanship, there was a tendency to abandon the ‘form’ and repeat the training from the beginning. They were actually close to truthseekers. They were far from the warriors and heroes that the public talked about.

There was a theory that Muller, the strongest Sword Saint, had defeated great demons such as Hell Gao in order to confirm ‘how good the sword is.’ Of course, the humans, who didn’t know the truth, praised Muller as a hero. Furthermore, only Muller himself knew the truth, but in any case, hell interpreted it this way.

Sword Saints were crazy people obsessed with their own state. They considered all other martial arts apart from swordsmanship as insignificant. They weren’t interested in demons, who hadn’t even learned the insignificant martial arts. Therefore, they didn’t invade hell...

This was a Sword Saint from the perspective of hell. It was based on the fact that no Sword Saints invaded hell in earnest. From hell’s perspective, the Sword Saint of the current era was close to a mutation.

“It is said that the ideal that the Sword Saint pursues is so unreal that it can’t be reached. They often die of old age without knowing they are a rat or a bird after a lifetime of closed training. Croak. Yet did you reach that point? Is that why you are running wild like this? Are you better than Muller?”

Chepardea’s attention was solely focused on Kraugel. He didn’t pay any attention to Leraje, who was released and was restoring her breathing, or Faker and Kasim, who helped her up.

It was an interesting reaction to Agnus. He was well aware of the value of the Sword Saint and Kraugel’s skill, but when it came to achievements, wasn’t he shabby compared to Leraje? Leraje was a person who was undefeated until just a few days ago. She might be weakened, but she was still a target to be wary of. It was hard to understand why Chepardea cared more about Kraugel than her.

‘Is the Sword Saint so special?’ Agnus had this question as he secretly controlled Lantier.

It was a situation where his immortality had been consumed the moment Kraugel appeared. Unlike Chepardea, he had no time. The current survival methods he had was becoming an undead and Bentao’s Mockery. He had to gain some achievements. If he was helpless again this time, then even his weak position would disappear.

‘At the very least, I should prove myself enough to receive Baal’s quest again.’

It was after the start of the great human and demon war. Agnus failed to even attempt most of Baal’s massacre quests. Then Baal’s attitude changed explicitly after he returned from fighting Grid. Baal was openly cold toward Agnus. It was close to ignoring him.

Agnus naturally recalled the end of the ‘failed work,’ Betty, that he once heard about from Chepardea. Baal said he easily abandoned toys he lost interest in.

‘It doesn’t matter if I’m thrown away.’

No, it was actually what he was hoping for. In the wake of various events, Agnus’ resentment toward the world had faded. He was exhausted and felt the warmth he had forgotten with the death of his lover once again through Euphemina. Right now, Agnus didn’t want the power to fight alone in the world. Nor was he obsessed with the impossible resurrection of his old lover. His vague goal of experiencing the same eye level as Grid, who had a starting point similar to himself, but who ended up in the opposite direction, was stopped due to Faker.

However, he could only achieve his wish if he had the power to stay free and alive. Thus, he couldn’t be thrown away yet. Currently, Agnus didn’t have the minimum of strength. If he was abandoned now, then he would be exposed to the world as helpless as he was in the past, and he would be trampled on.

‘In order to not be abandoned right away—’

It was necessary to at least maintain his position like discharge from the eyes.

He felt that Kraugel was the perfect opponent. The Sword Saint—for players who had watched Grid’s performance, it wasn’t particularly special. Even if there was a long history and numerous notable figures praising the Sword Saint, could it be better than Pagma's Successor?

Agnus was convinced that it wasn’t the case. Kraugel’s performance had been great, but it was shabby when compared to Grid. Agnus wasn’t afraid of the Sword Saint, Kraugel. He accepted Chepardea’s attitude of wariness as good luck. He would gain Chepardea’s liking again the moment he inflicted a fatal injury on Kraugel.

‘...Liking? I feel like I’ve become a child craving affection.’

Agnus smiled and communicated with Lantier, who was submerged in the shadows.

An existence who grew at the sacrifice of Agnus—he, who was honed with the help of Baal, now aimed at Kraugel’s heart.

‘There is no need to overdo it. In any case, I can’t beat Kraugel. It is enough if I inflict a serious injury on him.’


Darkness spread heavily behind Kraugel’s back. It was the sight of Lantier moving through the shadows and rising. There was no sound or indication, but Kraugel was already reacting. He raised his sword to defend against the dagger aiming at the back of his neck. No, the word ‘defend’ wasn’t appropriate. The moment it collided with Kraugel’s sword, Lantier’s dagger split in half.


The death knight’s emotions were expressed in the light of its eye sockets. The light in Lantier’s eye sockets shook like wildfire in surprise. Agnus was even more surprised.

‘Auto counterattack?’

Agnus was standing in front of Kraugel and looking directly at him. This was why he noticed it. In Kraugel’s response, the process of ‘sensing’ Lantier’s attack was omitted. The proof was that both of his eyes that were fixed on Chepardea didn’t move.

Chepardea clicked his tongue. “A Sword Saint is a Sword Saint. Croak.”

Realm of the Sword—a passive skill that had a high probability of detecting and intercepting attacks from all blades within range. In fact, the technique itself wasn’t special. It wasn’t just the Sword Saint. Martial artists who had risen to the peak often created their own realms.

The reason why the realm of a Sword Saint was particularly threatening was its combination with the power to ‘cut anything.’ It meant the concept of exchanging blows with the Sword Saint couldn’t be established. The sword cut everything that collided with it, so exchanging blows with the Sword Saint directly led to damage. The story would be different if it was a material that couldn’t be cut due to its infinite durability, but such a material wasn’t fair because it was rare in the world.

‘What?’ Agnus’ thoughts stopped. It was because he witnessed Kraugel’s sword cutting through the dagger to cut off Lantier’s wrist directly. In the midst of his astonishment—

“It is the power of items,” Kraugel honestly confessed. There was one reason why he reached the peak of a Sword Saint faster than expected.

[Overgeared God Grid’s divine object has appeared.]

[The myth of the Overgeared God is strengthened.]

[Sword Saint Kraugel has become part of this myth.]

[All stats of the Overgeared God Church’s believers will permanently increase by 10 and the proficiency of Sword Mastery will increase slightly.]

It was thanks to the White Tiger Sword that had just grown to the myth level.

Blood gushed from Agnus’ neck. Lantier might be quite threatening, but he was weak. It was natural for him to be the first target.


Dry hands like a tree. The traces of the distant years could be felt. Grid couldn’t resist the hand that seemed to be rooted in the earth. He was naturally polite to a long-lived existence. At this moment—

[A new divine object has appeared.]

[Your myth is strengthened.]

[You can feel that Sword Saint Kraugel is included in your myth.]

[From now on, you will be blessed by the sword. The effect is maintained as long as your bond with Kraugel continues.]

Grid regained his senses and spoke, “You hid alone in the mountain despite noticing the invasion of the demons. This is even though you know that this mountain will be in danger after the surface falls into the hands of the demons?”

Obviously, the Mountain King had existed for a long time. He lived only for the mountain and to protect the beings living on it. He also knew how to respect the courage of others. Even so, was he great? No. He was just a coward on the mountain. Grid stopped respecting the Mountain King. The Mountain King deserved to be criticized.

“Even at this moment, countless people are fighting for the world. They are giving up their lives to protect their homes, or protecting others to protect their family. Are they showing this courage because they are stronger than you?”


“Don’t be obsessed with the world in front of you. The world is connected. Fight for others if you really want to protect Grenier. Make others respect Grenier.”

Grid had visited Grenier for two purposes. First, obtain Tzudan’s class change book. Second, defeat the Mountain King and take his strength. The plan was established before he knew the Mountain King. However, now he knew the Mountain King. Therefore, he changed his plan.

“I am asking.” This time, it was Grid who grabbed the wrist of the Mountain King. He might’ve borrowed Irene’s appearance, but his hands were full of calluses. They were traces of effort that Irene had built up. Even a delicate woman like her was striving every day to help the world.

Grid knew that Irene and his colleagues scattered throughout hell and the world were fighting, therefore he could openly request this of the Mountain King, “Go out to the world with me. This is the right thing to do if you want to protect Grenier forever.”


The Mountain King’s expression subtly changed as he looked at Grid. It was a reaction like it was absurd. He was born for the mountain and had fought for the mountain. It was normal to find Grid’s claim about fighting for the world outside the mountain as absurd. Yet somehow, it sounded right.

Thus, he was flustered. “...Hundreds of years ago, there was a time when I lost a lot of my status.”

A distant past unfolded in front of Grid.

“I was nervous about the idea that I couldn’t protect Grenier in this state and went out to the world. It was to hunt for status.”

The appearance of the Mountain King as he wandered the surface wasn’t that good. Unlike his current dry yet hard self, he was only haggard. The man he met in this state felt like a mountain higher than Grenier.

Muller—he was the Sword Saint of that time. The Mountain King was defeated. He had come down the mountain in a state of a loss of status, while the opponent was the strongest Sword Saint ever. He wasn’t Muller’s opponent. He despaired that everything was over.

The Mountain King quietly closed his eyes. He waited for death. The thing that Muller reached out to him was a hand, not a sword. “You came down from the mountain to protect it. Your courage is admirable.”

What was he feeling? Muller handed over part of his status to the Mountain King. He even gave the undefeated legend. It had continued to this day and evolved into the undefeated myth.

‘He is youthful. Looking at the timing... was the Muller famous among the people the Muller after transferring some of his status to the Mountain King? Yet he was called the strongest Sword Saint ever?’

“Overgeared God.” The image projected on Grid’s retinas scattered like a mirage. The call of the Mountain King returned Grid’s consciousness to the present. “I think your words are right. I am well aware that I was respected by Muller because I left the mountain, as you said. Yet as you saw, I won’t be the Mountain King the moment I leave the mountain. I will be weakened and I won’t meet your expectations. So I will let you know the whereabouts of a human who can help you on my behalf.”

“......!” Grid got goosebumps. The human spoken about by the Mountain King in this context...

“Sword Saint Muller...?”

“......? No. The meeting with him was too long ago. Furthermore, there is no way for me to know his whereabouts because I haven’t heard anything about him. I think he is dead... it is truly strange that such an existence can suffer from death.”

“...Then who are you talking about?”

“It is a human being called Chreshler. He is probably the strongest human I’ve ever heard of, apart from Muller. Of course, it is an evaluation that excludes the humans already by your side and those who have completely disappeared.”

“Chreshler? The former pope?”

“Yes. You know of him. Right now, he has a noble mission and is sealed in something. However, I know how to revive him.”

“That person... forget it,” Grid rejected it immediately.

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