Trait Hoarder-Chapter 257

Disappearance – Part 1

Congratulatory messages poured in one after another.

[Congratulations on reaching the Transcendental Stage. Drop by Paju sometime.]

[Congratulations, Sword Heaven. You don’t need to worry anymore.]

[You’re amazing. If you’re free, want to grab dinner together?]

[As expected of the one chosen by the Greatest Thunder.]

[Even the Heaviest Mother must be pleased.]

The messages came personally from the Eastern Army Legion Commander, the Sun Mage Tower Master, Seong Huiyeong, and the Archbishops of the Thor and Gaia Cults.

And that wasn’t even all.

Almost every major faction I knew of had sent their congratulations.

Boom! Boom boom!

Magical fireworks exploded across Seoul.

And along with them, phrases etched across the sky.

[Congratulations on the birth of a new Level 8 Superhuman! – President of the Republic of Korea]

[Today, we have once again proven the excellence of the Korean people! – Prime Minister of the Republic of Korea]

[This is not the personal joy of Sword Heaven, but a celebration for all 30 million citizens of Seoul! – Mayor of Seoul]

[Congratulations on your level up, Warrior Kim, Sword Heaven! – The residents of Sillim-dong]

[We’re proud to live in the same city as Sword Heaven. – Actor Chadojun]

Messages like that were continuously projected into the sky without pause.

Not just magical fireworks—skyships drew colorful clouds as if it were election season, wailing loudly in celebration.

“Ugh, seriously.”

My face was burning up.

This wasn’t a praise anthem—it was practically a Kim-praise musical.

I shut all the mansion windows and turned on the TV.

I just wanted to catch some slapstick comedy, the only kind of humor that clicked with me—but of course, the moment I turned it on, I caught the most cringeworthy scene.

The screen was filled with this phrase:

[Warrior Kim. Sword Heaven. The Story of a Great Life.]

“What the hell is this!”

What do you mean, what is it?

It’s a documentary.

It hadn’t been that long since my Level 8 certification, and they were already airing a biographical tribute like I was some national hero.

They must’ve started making it a while ago.

Maybe back when I stopped the Seoul terror attack.

When I hunted and killed the Massacre Empress. When I destroyed the secret base of the Dark Jaguar beneath the Han River.

[Warrior Kim, Sword Heaven, was found in the baby box of an orphanage in Sillim-dong in 2001…]

[From an early age, he had a strong sense of justice and demonstrated innate leadership…]

[Even after leaving the orphanage, he made a living on his own…]

[Ah. He was an incredible person.]

[I always knew Kim—no, Warrior Kim—would become great.]

[Everyone knew. Everyone.]

[Warrior! We miss you!]

The past of Warrior Kim that I knew nothing about.

I was momentarily drawn in, but quickly lost interest.

There wasn’t much to it.

Just like my life in the real world, Warrior Kim’s past meant nothing.

“Ugh, this is making my skin crawl.”

At least the past part was somewhat watchable.

There were things I didn’t know.

But once it reached May 30th, 2023—the moment I fell into this world—I quickly switched the channel.

Because that’s when the full-on Kim-praise began.

I don’t mind being respected by others.

But this was too much.

It was practically deifying me like some dynasty’s idol.

How could my face not burn red from embarrassment?

I kept flipping through the channels.

But there was nothing to watch.

Every station had my face blown up big, belting out their own versions of the Kim-praise.

‘Should I just train instead?’

But I had a reason for staying like this.

I’d thrown the ball with my Level 8 certification.

I needed to see how the Saintess would respond.

She wouldn’t attack outright—not now.

She might’ve, if she were 100% confident of victory, but I’d flaunted that I’d already finished adapting to the new level after the certification. She wouldn’t be that reckless.

‘She hasn’t given up, has she?’

When would she make her move?

Just as I was mentally posing that question to the Saintess—

The TV screen, which was still playing the praise documentary, suddenly flashed a subtitle in white letters against a red background.

[Breaking News]

And then the next line followed.

[Entire Old Father Cult Goes Missing]

Huh?

What the hell?

I instinctively leaned forward.

[Personnel of Jongno Great Temple Missing]

[Personnel of each metropolitan temple missing]

[Same worldwide—all temple personnel missing]

They disappeared?

I quickly flipped to a news channel.

Luckily, they were reporting the incident live.

[We’ll now connect to reporter Kim Junseok on site. Reporter Kim?]

[Yes! I’m here at the Old Father Cult’s Great Temple in Jongno. As you know, the Jongno Great Temple has been functioning almost like the Saintess’s HQ. Just about three hours ago, all personnel of the Jongno Great Temple vanished.]

[Vanished, you say?]

[Yes. Please, follow me inside. Citizens might remember that the temple used to be heavily guarded by Holy Knights. But as you can see, there’s no one guarding it now.]

It was exactly as he said.

There was no one in front of the grand, fortress-like temple.

Only a few scattered believers murmuring in confusion.

[Alright, we’ll head inside.]

The reporter and the cameraman entered the temple without a single protest or obstruction.

It was eerie.

The place that had once overflowed with art glorifying the Old Father—

Now utterly desolate. No sacred paintings, no statues, not even a single hymn to vibrate the air.

I narrowed my eyes.

‘This is…’

I knew what this was.

In the game, this event was called [Three Days of Silence].

An event that lasted exactly three days in both game time and real time.

All facilities of the Old Father Cult faction would be locked down.

All NPCs would vanish, and even playable characters would turn gray and become unusable.

And after exactly 72 hours, everything changed.

Episode 3, Resurrection of the Ancient God, had been updated.

That’s when the Old Father Cult rose up and launched a full-scale assault on Seoul.

The Offering Plan.

A mad scheme to offer the entirety of Seoul as a sacrifice to the Old Father.

‘They’re really going through with it?’

Impossible.

Seoul—no, the Republic of Korea—now had a military force incomparable to the one in the game.

Even if the Old Father Cult gathered all their global forces, taking on modern-day Korea would be a stretch.

So what are they plotting?

I needed to find out.

When I stepped onto the deck, Baek Sorin waved at me, wearing a party cone hat and holding fireworks.

“Teacher! Hurry and come over here!”

The whole Sky River was in full swing.

I was Level 8.

My disciples were Level 7.

The Kim Party was Level 6.

We had all received our certifications at once, and this was the celebration.

I gave a light wave in return.

“Have fun. I’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Cheh! You’re ditching again?”

“You know how it is.”

“Ugh, fine. Be careful out there!”

Everyone was drinking, but no one was getting drunk.

Because I’d given them a heads-up beforehand.

That the Old Father Cult might attack.

The magic radar spinning intensely on one side of the deck served as evidence of that.

The Supreme Flame main cannon had already finished warming up.

After checking that, I boarded the flying car parked on one side of the deck.

A blazing red sports car.

Red Cougar.

It had finally been repaired while I was busy circling the globe.

The magic spirit Red greeted me joyfully.

[Master! It’s been so long!]

“Long time no see. How are you holding up?”

[Fantastic! I’m still a bit sad I can’t serve you like I used to, but I’d be honored if you kept using me!]

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take you when I’m going short-distance.”

BOOM!

Driving the Red Cougar again after so long—it was fast as hell.

Not quite on the level of a supersonic jet or an elder dragon, but within Seoul, it was top-tier.

They must’ve upgraded it, because even with Dragon Knight systems and full integration, it held up just fine.

I arrived at the Jongno Great Temple in just five minutes.

I casually parked in the lot and got out, only to be instantly swarmed by a mass of reporters.

“Excuse us!”

“Sword Heaven! A word, please!”

“We’ve heard rumors of past conflicts—any comment?”

“Do you know anything about what’s going on?”

“Where do you think the Saintess went?”

“Some are saying the Saintess fled in fear of your retaliation—your thoughts?”

Noisy as hell.

I quietly activated my traits.

[Giant’s Strength][Intimidation][Intimidation]

It couldn’t hold a candle to the aura of a Legion Commander’s Authority.

Still, with Intimidation from Giant’s Strength, a sub-trait Intimidation, and one copied through a world trait, the triple-stacked Intimidation was no joke.

The reporters’ faces went pale.

A few even collapsed onto the ground.

And that was just from using Intimidation—if I’d added mana, they would’ve soiled themselves.

The crowd parted like Moses splitting the Red Sea.

I was just about to walk through when—

“Salvation!”

What now?

A ragged old man screamed.

Wearing a worn-out hiking jacket, with hair and beard like seaweed, he shrieked at me.

“Accept the wholly Great and Holy One and save this world!”

And he wasn’t alone.

More people gathered.

In shabby clothes.

Faces streaked with grime and grease.

But their eyes burned with an unnatural light.

Men and women. Old and young. Kids, seniors, moms, dads, people in their 20s and 30s—all of them stared straight at me.

Like a mob of zombies.

“End the sea of suffering!” 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

“Deliver Earth from Hell!”

“O Savior!”

Then they started running at me.

Eyes gleaming with madness.

Foaming at the mouth.

They really looked like a zombie horde.

“Uh—?”

“Eek!”

“These lunatics!”

“They’re junkies!”

Wrong.

I scrutinized them carefully.

I could see their mana circuits.

Starting from the frontal lobe, running through the brain and spinal cord—completely unnatural circuits.

And the mana flowing through them was familiar to me.

A cursed, black flame.

In other words, divine power from the Old Father Cult.

I’d seen it plenty in the game.

After Episode 3 began and the Cult revealed its true nature.

According to the lore, once the Old Father’s resurrection drew near, all followers would be infused with mana.

But why was this already happening?

“Heeheehee!”

“Yahaha!”

“Uhoho!”

The cultists lunged at me.

Leaping like mad, trying to crush me under their bodies.

For a second, I hesitated.

Should I just kill them all?

I could wipe them out in an instant if I wanted to.

No.

The Old Father Cult was still maintaining the appearance of a legitimate religion. If I went around slaughtering even fanatics, it would only hurt me.

No need to get labeled a villain.

So instead of drawing the Black Tiger Sword, I brushed my hand against my weapons rack.

Clack.

What I pulled out was Hailstorm.

An ice-type grenade launcher gave off a metallic ring.

[Ice Resistance][Close-Combat Mastery][Suppression]

[Magic Brain][Mana Soul][Invincible Gun]

Suppression from Close-Combat Mastery applies to any attack.

As long as it’s done with precision.

I aimed the Hailstorm.

Calculated the trajectory using Magic Brain, infused mana with Mana Soul, and fired with the precision of Invincible Gun.

Pop! Pop pop!

Ice rounds flew out.

Tiny.

Targeted individually.

Aimed at each person’s heart.

Like sniper shots.

Crack! Crackle!

People froze mid-charge.

Normally, Hailstorm was strong enough to tear through dozens.

Thanks to the synchronization from Magic Brain and Mana Soul, the result turned out completely different.

They were frozen and subdued.

Like the dragons and other races once trapped in the Nest of the Polar Emperor.

Thud thud, the people’s eyes rolled back.

They were completely encased in ice, like statues.

Yet their hearts hadn’t stopped, nor had their brain activity ceased.

It was the kind of perfect subjugation only an ice-attribute mage could pull off.

Click! Click!

Camera flashes went off.

“It’s a scoop!”

“The Old Father Cult attacked Sword Heaven!”

“Was it really an attack? Those people aren’t even superhumans.”

“No, they are. I can feel their mana!”

“Huh? You’re right! Why aren’t they registered?”

“Probably illegal superhumans!”

That wasn’t the case.

It was just that their abnormal mana overload had temporarily assigned them levels.

Once the connection to the Old Father was severed or the power retracted, their temporary levels would vanish.

They’d return to normal.

“Huh, what the hell is going on here?”

From the direction of the parking lot, a silver-haired gentleman approached.

Superhumans surrounded him like a protective screen.

A familiar face.

In fact, anyone in the Republic of Korea would have a harder time not recognizing him.

Reporters hurriedly pointed their cameras.

“Mr. President!”

“Please, a statement!”

“What’s your view on the Old Father Cult’s disappearance?”

“Was this coordinated?”

“Please say something to the ten million followers of the Old Father!”

That’s right.

It was the President.

The same President I had saved from the Massacre Empress. The one who had subtly helped me since then.

He glanced at me and gave a slight nod.

“Sword Heaven, I didn’t realize you were here as well.”

“Yes. I just arrived. You must be incredibly busy—what brings you here?”

“Hmm… Shall we step inside and talk?”

We entered the temple together.

The reporters screamed and tried to follow, but the superhumans pulled them back by force.

Inside the Great Temple.

That desolate, empty place. The President and I sat across from each other.

“There were signs of this, even before.”

Could it be?

Did the President also notice it?

That the Seoul terror attack had been orchestrated by the Old Father Cult?

“What do you mean?”

“The Old Father Cult had been moving busily in recent times. They’ve always been active since arriving on this land, but lately, their activity increased severalfold.”

“Do you know why?”

“I didn’t before. But now I think I understand.”

The President looked at me sharply.

“Isn’t it because they want to descend their god through you—the one they call the Savior?”

It was common knowledge.

Maybe not to civilians, but certainly the government and any faction within the Big Four would know.

But that wasn’t all.

“You’re only half right.”

“Half right?”

“Yes.”

I glanced outside the temple.

Through the window, I could see the frozen fanatics.

Police were now arriving, securing them with magic handcuffs and shackles.

They were being carried off like luggage.

‘I didn’t think they’d try to offer Seoul…’

No, that’s not the right way to say it.

The Old Father Cult didn’t have the capability to offer up Seoul, not to sacrifice 30 million citizens in a ritual.

So why were the fanatics going berserk?

Was this the precursor to the Old Father’s resurrection?

There was only one answer.

Looking the President in the eye, I spoke in a low voice.

“They’re trying to secure mana first, before the descent.”

“Mana, huh…”

“Whether they plan to descend the Old Father through me, or capture and suppress me, securing enough mana comes first. Without that, they can’t summon the Old Father—or subdue me.”

The President nodded in agreement.

“That makes sense. But what’s the link between mana gathering and the cult’s disappearance? Wouldn’t they be more active if they wanted to gather mana? Running fundraisers, ceremonies, that sort of thing.”

“That’s not necessarily true.”

I shook my head.

“The Old Father is especially fond of human sacrifice, and for the Old Father Cult, it’s also the most efficient way to gather mana.”

“Yes, but how much mana can a few sacrifices produce? This isn’t the Middle Ages. I’ve heard it’s more effective to gather high-level mana cores and extract them all at once.”

“That’s true—for just a few.”

“But what if it’s around a million people being sacrificed?”

“…What?”

“One million. Imagine offering up an entire metropolitan city—how much mana do you think that would generate?”

The President’s eyes widened.