Ackster held his breath as he got close enough to the edge of the pit to peer at its center.

There was no doubt about it. The woman looked slightly haggard and weary. It was less than expected of someone who had literally fallen from the sky, even with the holy dome protecting her.

She had grey hair as if stripped of its color. And her clothes were as simple as they could be—a plain white, unadorned ankle-length tunic that covered her shoulders and upper arms. It did nothing to improve her appearance.

But it didn’t need to.

Even after losing her angelic powers, Karandiel’s natural and innate beauty was enough to turn the weariness into a charming fragility. Her pale skin, as sickly as it was, was free of blemishes but still stood out from the tunic.

Her sleeping face was locked in a slight frown of discomfort and worry, which made her pursed lips look smaller than they were.

Even in her current state, suffering from the aftereffects of losing her angelic powers and riding the express to the mortal world, and with a frown on her face, Karandiel was striking enough to freeze Ackster on the spot.

As one of the most beautiful characters in the original story, Ackster knew she would be almost unbelievable to look at. But he hadn’t expected it to be enough to root him to the spot, unable to do anything but stare.

Fortunately, he had Iron Will and Clear Mind, so when Nash caught up, his arm raised high and ready to swing his sword through Ackster’s neck, he didn’t just stand there.

Nash came from behind, and Ackster’s wide, muscular back had blocked his view of whatever treasure was inside. But he had seen Ackster stiffen and stop moving to stare at the treasure in a daze. He couldn’t even begin to guess what it was, but it had to be good if it was enough to elicit such a reaction out of Ackster, despite the current situation.

But before he could take a look at what it was for himself, Nash had to deal with Ackster using the opening he had exposed. So, as soon as he got in range, his sword headed for Ackster’s neck.

Ackster snapped out of his daze before Nash’s sword could lop his head off and ducked.

Nash was a little startled that Ackster was ready and managed to dodge, but it would take more than that for his body not to continue moving. Swinging his sword was second nature to Nash.

So, when Ackster ducked, his sword followed him down.

However, Nash’s sword lost its speed and momentum when he had to change its directory, and it was unable to keep up with Ackster’s seamless roll to the side. Ackster continued, in one smooth movement, to turn around and stand up, just in time for Nash’s upward diagonal slash.

Ackster bowed at his hips, bent at his knees, and stepped under the sword while also stepping closer to Nash. Without hesitation and while making full use of the opening Nash had left in the wake of his overextended swing, Ackster launched a heavy fist into the center of the swordsman’s gut, knocking the air out of him.

Nash didn’t have the same fortitude and strength of mind necessary to remain almost unaffected by losing his breath like that the same way Hansel did, and he fell to the ground, gasping for air.

Ackster stepped on his hand, probably breaking a couple of the bones in it. He didn’t do it to torment Nash. But he didn’t have time to stand around and wrest the sword out of his hand. And doing it this way also prevented Nash from using his or any weapon again, at least not before healing with magic or potions.

Ackster grabbed the sword and held it. He felt the handle sting uncomfortably, almost painfully. But it was nothing compared to the pain he had experienced recently, and it was nothing more than a nuisance he needed to endure if he wanted to use a proper weapon instead of his bare fists.

He was used to punching, and if the strike he lauded against Hansel and his spear was any indication, he was getting pretty good at it. But if he would fight against multiple adventurers and the remaining Crimson Edge member, Limm, he would need something a little more useful.

Even if he didn’t know how to use a sword, it was still sharp, and it had greater range than his fists and arms alone. As long as he swung it like a madman, he could still kill people.

Ackster felt Limm’s glare and met it, undaunted, before glancing around the grove and at all the greedy but wary adventurers. They were like starved dogs in front of a wolf. Afraid and aware of the difference in strength but still hungry.

Ackster put the tip of his newly acquired sword against the nape of Nash’s neck to dissuade Limm from approaching. He looked at all the adventurers.

“I have no intentions of killing anyone.”

Ackster’s heart was still beating hard from his fight with Hansel and seeing Karandiel, but he forced his voice to remain composed and authoritative. He channeled the innate arrogance and unabashed self-confidence of the original Ackster Phileam to make it more convincing.

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“I will if I have to. But I would prefer not to. I have already beaten that spear guy. If you think you’re stronger than him, I guess you have a shot. Otherwise, for your sakes, I recommend retreating without trying to look at my treasure.”

Ackster’s words hung in the grove as everyone considered their options. Treasures straight from the realm of the gods were bound to be amazing, regardless of what they were. At worst, they would come out with a mortal fortune that could last them lifetimes. And at best, they could experience a near world-shattering transformation and reach the peak. Of course, only if they could safely get their hands on the treasure.

Since no one seemed intent on deciding, or at least not deciding to leave, Ackster continued talking.

“Everyone, let me be frank. This treasure isn’t something just anyone can handle. Even if you could, how will any of you get your hands on it? And after that, how will you make sure you aren’t killed for it?”

Ackster took a breath and let everyone process his words. He spoke up again before anyone else could say anything.

“I know as well as anyone here that the very essence of being an adventurer is to seek adventure. Danger is merely flavor added to the excellent dish that is discovering and experiencing exciting things. All of you rushed over here as soon as the smell of treasure appeared in the vicinity, regardless of what you might encounter. Regardless of what might happen, all of you currently present are here now because you thought—hoped—that you could at least get a glimpse of whatever the gods had sent down, if not the treasure itself, despite the unfathomable odds.”

Ackster’s words struck some chords and hearts as he spoke to the gathered adventurers.

“That is also why I know that it’s not worth it. Cut your losses here. You’ve witnessed the descent of the treasure, and you were present when the local tyrants got to know that there’s always someone stronger. Isn’t that satisfying enough?”

Ackster’s rhetorical question was finally enough to get some to reconsider their decision to challenge Ackster for nothing but the faintest of hopes of getting their hands on that heavenly treasure.

Even if they all worked together and defeated Ackster, what then? Would they draw lots and accept that whoever won, won? Regardless of what happened, their individual chances of getting the heavenly treasure were close to zero. The odds of them dying, on the other hand, were proportional to how stubborn they were and how much they wanted the treasure.

As they thought about it, more and more decided that Ackster’s words held more than a grain of truth. And maybe simply being present at the heavenly treasure’s crash site was enough. Then, if Ackster went on to become a great hero using the treasure, they could tell their friends, family, and acquaintances that they helped build the springboard that shot him to fame.

And if Ackster disappeared into society’s cracks of obscurity, that was proof of what he had said. Even if they got their hands on the treasure, it wasn’t necessarily a guaranteed ticket to prosperity.

“Who are you, then? To spout all this sophistry and hypocritical bullshit? Trying to make us leave so you can hog it all for yourself. You’re just scared, aren’t you? That your threats aren’t enough, or that you can’t enforce them, right? Hansel gave you a proper beating before you cheated your way to victory!”

However, not everyone were happy about being sent packing without even seeing what the heavenly treasure was. Ackster had expected Limm to speak up, but instead, it was a thug-looking adventurer that had sided with the Crimson Edge earlier. He had unruly dark brown hair and an unkempt beard that embodied the adventurous spirit of a man living in the wild.

“If anyone’s the coward here, it’s you. If you truly believe I’m too weak to fight and kill you all if necessary, step forward. Come here.”

Ackster was worried that the man’s words would incite the other adventurers into reconsidering their reconsideration. He had already seen several adventurers take several steps back or sit down to show they weren’t going to fight. They just wanted to watch what everyone else would do.

However, this thug was jeopardizing it.

“You’re just bluffing!”

“Sure. Come here and call it, then.”

Ackster stared at the thug, who hid his fluster with false bravado.

As the thug felt the sharp gazes of those around him, he realized he might have to do this alone or swallow his tongue and pride and step back.

“Fine! You’re just an arrow at the end of its flight, anyways. I’m not afraid of you.”

Ackster raised an eyebrow and smirked as the thug unsheathed the sword at his hip while walking closer, one step at a time.

“You sure? The trembling hands there are telling a different story.”

“Shut up!”

The bearded adventurer growled at Ackster while staring daggers at him.

Ackster shrugged and shoved Nash to the side and away from the pit.

“Get out of the way and remember the mercy I showed you.”

Ackster then looked at the adventurer opposite him while paying full attention to the latter’s stance, movements, and eyes. After all, it was his first time holding a sword, and he didn’t really know what he was doing. He had hoped his opponent would cave since he wasn’t as good at bluffing as Ackster. But at least he had managed to convince the adventurer that he was better.

The bearded adventurer was fighting an uphill battle from the start and had already lost any confidence of victory he might have had when he first shouted.

‘Is this how you do it?’

Ackster, with the help of Keen Senses and Strong Body, analyzed and mimicked the way the bearded adventurer held his sword and positioned his body. He subtly readjusted his grip on the handle and changed the way he angled the sword and how his feet touched the ground.

He could tell that his opponent wasn’t that skilled with the sword from what he had learned on his own and through Strong Body about how to move his body most efficiently. His legs were a little unsteady, and the knees pointed inward too much for the thug-like adventurer to display as much power and speed as he could.

But it was perfect for Ackster to start with. His opponent was unskilled enough that Ackster could see what he was doing and leisurely pay attention to the details without worrying about getting killed from a moment of distraction. All the while, Strong Body adapted the movements and postures of his opponent to let him learn and display the same things.

It sounded easy, and it was relatively so when his opponent wasn’t much better at the sword than him. But Ackster hadn’t even been able to think about trying this out when he fought Hansel or when he reacted to Nash’s attempted ambush.

“Come.”