Solo Max-Level Newbie - Chapter 375: The Black Hill Tribe 'Tarachen' (3)

Beneath the rugged tent made from the hide of monsters, a critical meeting was unfolding—one that would determine the fate of several factions.

“…So, you’re saying the way to protect the sanctuary is by forming an alliance and launching a preemptive strike?”

“Exactly. After all, the best defense is a good offense.”

Jinhyuk smiled innocently, as if his suggestion was the most obvious thing in the world.

That innocent smile made Tarachen burst into laughter.

“Kahahaha! You’re completely out of your mind! You want us to shatter the balance that’s been held for decades?”

“That’s exactly it. If this stalemate has lasted for decades without a conclusion, doesn’t that mean the old ways are flawed?”

The current situation was one of mutual hesitation—no faction dared start an all-out war, nor could they form an alliance to eliminate one side entirely.

It was like the standoff among the Wei, Shu, and Wu factions in the Three Kingdoms. The delicate balance of power ensured that no side could win decisively for many years.

*Besides, the Great Wing, where the Wraith Cult resides, isn’t even interested in becoming the strongest faction.*

To break this deadlock, something bold was needed—something disruptive.

That something was the players—a wildcard.

“Hmm…”

Tarachen studied Jinhyuk carefully. Was he fearless? Reckless? Or just completely out of his mind?

One thing was certain: this man wasn’t spewing nonsense.

Even Karakal, the chieftain of the Frostblade Tribe, had placed deep trust in him.

“You’re not asking us to charge in blindly, are you? You must have a plan.”

Jinhyuk grinned as if he’d been waiting for that question.

“Of course. I’m not a fan of unwinnable games.”

With that, he pulled out a glowing item.

*Fwoosh!*

A blue flame flickered atop a torch—an item capable of exploiting the weaknesses of any faction.

“That’s…!”

Tarachen’s eyes widened.

He had heard stories of this torch.

It existed on the 20th floor, but only in ancient tales. No one had ever seen it with their own eyes.

Yet, here it was.

How had a player—one who had only recently entered this floor—managed to obtain a torch that had remained hidden for decades?

*This human is beyond belief.*

Tarachen clicked his tongue in disbelief.

At this point, it was almost easier to trust Jinhyuk than to keep doubting him.

This man just might be the one to end the deadlock that had plagued the 20th floor for so long.

“Alright. This is no longer a gamble—it’s a calculated risk.”

Tarachen’s decision came swiftly. The bait was too tempting to resist.

With the support of the Frostblade Tribe and a monster like Chun Yoosung by Jinhyuk’s side, the odds were in their favor.

“Shall I take that as a yes?”

“Yes. We’ll fight alongside you. We’ll seize control of the 20th floor.”

“Great. In that case, I have one personal request.”

“A request?”

“As you can see, I’m a bit short on manpower. There’s a hidden ruin on the 19th floor. If you could retrieve a specific document from it, that would be great.”

The document Jinhyuk was referring to was part of the *Prophet’s Book*, written by the Norse goddess Frigg.

Even though Jinhyuk already knew its contents by heart, he needed physical evidence.

The book would be essential for his future dealings with the Norse pantheon.

*Odin might be cunning, but he won’t let Olympus wipe him out entirely.*

Even though Ragnarok seemed to be losing ground in the current conflict, Odin would likely preserve his key forces and bide his time.

Heimdall, with his superior teleportation abilities, held a distinct advantage over Olympus’s Hermes in that regard.

“…Fine. As a symbol of our alliance, I’ll retrieve the document for you.”

Tarachen nodded, sealing the alliance between the Veteran Corporation and the Black Hill Tribe.

—

The Wraith Cult’s headquarters resembled a vision of hell. Rusted iron walls and grotesque torture devices filled the space, while the air was thick with the screams of monsters and residents alike.

“Uwaaaah!”

“Aaaah!”

In the innermost chamber, the cult leader *Sloth* stood calmly amidst the chaos.

He had just finished a long torture session.

“Ah, yes. That was quite helpful. The information about the saintess was especially useful.”

“Y-yes… I’ve told you everything I know. Please… Please, no more…”

Payton, the once-proud raid leader of the Olympus Guild, was now a broken man, begging for mercy.

“Do you have nothing else to offer?”

“I’ve told you… everything…”

“You’ve done well to speak.”

Sloth gripped a bloodstained hammer and nail with a steady hand.

*Clank! Clank! Clank!*

“Nooo! Please! Not that!”

Payton thrashed wildly, but it was futile.

“Don’t worry. Soon you’ll serve as one of the Seven Deadly Sins.”

His body was still useful. Once the surgery was complete, he could become a formidable Blood Knight—or perhaps something even stronger.

Just then—

*Boom!*

The heavy iron doors burst open, and a two-headed undead monster stormed inside.

“I told you not to interrupt me during surgery.”

“I-I apologize, my lord! But we have intruders at the temple gates!”

“Intruders?”

Sloth’s brow furrowed in irritation.

Who would be foolish enough to assault the heart of the Wraith Cult?

“It’s Tarachen! He’s leading an army of orcs directly to our doorstep!”

“Tarachen…?”

Sloth’s annoyance deepened.

*That fool doesn’t know his place. Just because we share the same floor, he thinks we’re equals?*

The Seven Deadly Sins were beings of the upper floors—far beyond the reach of mid-tier bosses like Tarachen.

Sloth had only remained here due to orders from Guntaper, the higher-ranking demon.

“I just want to rest… Why won’t they leave me in peace?”

Sloth’s greatest desire was to do nothing—to lie down and rest for eternity.

But due to his contract of submission with Guntaper, that dream had to wait.

*Just endure this a little longer. Soon, I’ll finally get the peace I crave.*

“How should we respond, my lord?”

“Do you really need to ask? Crush them.”

“Y-yes, my lord!”

The undead servant bowed deeply and scurried off to rally the cult’s forces.

“…So much for rest. I’ll have to finish the surgery later.”

With a sigh, Sloth turned back to Payton, who lay trembling on the torture table.

“I have to get out… I need to escape…!”

Payton whispered frantically, desperately trying to free himself from his chains.

Then—

“Well, well. Fancy meeting you here.”

A familiar voice interrupted his frantic efforts.

Jinhyuk crouched down beside him, grinning cheerfully.

“You…!?”

“Shh. You wouldn’t want that terrifying cult leader to come back, would you?”

“Is this the coward who abandoned his comrades?” Chun Yoosung asked, stepping forward.

“Yup. If he hadn’t run, a lot more people would’ve survived,” Teresa added coldly.

“I… I had no choice…”

Payton’s voice cracked under the weight of guilt and fear.

But survival instincts outweighed shame.

“Please… Get me out of here… I’ll face whatever punishment you want—just get me out!”

“Hmm. Begging, huh?”

Jinhyuk scratched his chin, pretending to consider it.

“Hurry! We don’t have much time!”

“Sorry, no can do.”

“W-what?”

“If you were just ordinary garbage, I might’ve recycled you. But you’re more like food waste—better off burned.”

Jinhyuk smiled mischievously as he concentrated his mana.

*Vrrrm!*

Tiny orbs of blood spun in a circle around Payton.

“W-what is this?”

“Think of it as a little gift—something good for your health.”

Jinhyuk’s smile widened.

This was *Blood Explosion*, the signature ability of Amulam, the former leader of the Dekaseth family.

The blood orbs, cloaked by an invisibility barrier, embedded themselves in Payton’s body.

“Those are timed explosives. If you betray us or even think about revealing our presence… Boom.”

“Let’s move. We need to use the time Tarachen bought us.”

“Right. There’s an exit down the left corridor.”

The three of them stood and made their way out without a second glance at Payton.

“Wait! Please! Don’t leave me here!”

His desperate cries echoed through the empty chamber.

—

*Slash!*

A single stroke from Chun Yoosung’s blade sent a fanatic’s head flying, blood spraying in a neat arc.

“Remind me—what exactly are we looking for?”

“The Chalice of the Antichrist. It’s a smashed red goblet—can’t believe you forgot already. I told you an hour ago.”

“…”

Shing!

Chun Yoosung’s blade shimmered as it sliced the air, dismissing the irritation.

“Hey, anyone can forget stuff, okay? A Sword Saint’s got more important things to focus on than some old cup.”

“Well, now that you know, don’t forget again.” Jinhyuk grinned, dodging Chun Yoosung’s glare.

Suddenly—

“Jinhyuk! Look over here!”

Teresa’s urgent voice echoed from the other side of the chamber.