Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods! - Chapter 627

Chapter 627: Chapter183-The Hanged Man
Moments later, the four of them arrived near the ruins of the great mage Jacob. Strangely, not a single soul could be seen nearby. There were no stationed troops from the Kent Kingdom guarding the site, not even at the entrance to the ruins.

The expressions on everyone’s faces turned grim. This was definitely not a good sign. After all, the danger that hides in the shadows is far more terrifying than any hostility one can plainly see.

“Hold on… something’s off.”

Fort suddenly crouched down, placing his palm flat against the ground. He was feeling the subtle fluctuations within the soil, reading the shifts in its mineral composition.

Now that he had become highly attuned to the metal element—virtually one with it—he could extend his elemental sense across several kilometers with incredible precision. The human body, after all, contains over fifty types of minerals. Even though the proportion of metallic elements was minute, Fort could still detect their presence.

“There’s an ambush. A large one,” he said gravely.

Francis cracked his knuckles and gave a wide, ferocious grin. “Good. One comes, I kill one. Two come, I kill a pair!”

But before he could finish basking in his bloodlust, Alan yanked him behind and said coldly, “Leave everything to me. You three handle the aftermath.”

Without another word, Alan sprinted in the direction Fort had indicated.

“Damn it! Don’t just—”

The trio had long since grown accustomed to Alan’s unpredictability, but that didn’t mean they were comfortable letting him rush off alone. His mental state was too volatile to ignore.

And so, Alan raced ahead while the other three gave chase, panting and scrambling to keep up.

A short time later, Alan came to a halt in front of a massive boulder near the ruins. Weathered from years of erosion, the rock had blended almost seamlessly with its surroundings.

“Huff… huff…”

Francis arrived moments later, panting heavily. He reached out to pat Alan on the shoulder, ready to scold him for the reckless sprint, but paused when he saw Alan suddenly frown. Without a word, Alan bent down, picked up a small stone, and hurled it at the large boulder with force.

A deep hum rang out as a crimson magic array flickered to life on the boulder’s surface.

In the next instant, a wild surge of mana burst forth from within the boulder, detonating a massive mana explosion right where they stood.

Alan immediately shielded Francis and pulled him back. Francis, reacting swiftly, activated his mana to generate a repulsive gravity field around them, blocking all the flying debris and shattered rocks.

By the time they had retreated to where Blanche and Fort were waiting, Francis was still catching his breath, his face pale with fear.

Scanning the area, he realized that similar explosive traps were scattered all around them—boulders filled with volatile magic arrays, ready to blow. If they had charged blindly into the ruins, they might’ve triggered a chain explosion that would have obliterated not just themselves, but the entire site.

Just then, Alan turned his gaze toward the uppermost remnants of the ruin.

Traps like this—magic arrays hidden in boulders—weren’t simple proximity explosives. They required mages to constantly stabilize the mana flow. Otherwise, a mere gust of wind could accidentally set them off. That would render them useless as traps.

Alan narrowed his eyes. “You’re even using mana to bend light and hide yourselves? Show yourselves!”

His voice rang with fury, and his True Death Eyes activated of their own accord, instantly severing the hidden mages’ connection to their mana.

Moments later, two figures appeared amidst the crevices at the top of the ruins—one fat, one thin. The abrupt exposure caught them off guard.

Realizing their concealment had failed, the two mages immediately turned to flee.

But Alan wasn’t going to give them that chance.

From his chest, a radiant longsword infused with holy light—Lumen Sancta—shot forth, trailing brilliance in its wake as it darted toward the escaping enemies.

Two cries of agony pierced the air as the sword skewered both mages through the heart, executing swift justice on the spot.

But Alan didn’t stop there.

He swept his gaze over the area again. With such a massive and complex array of explosive traps, there was no way only two mages were managing them all. The most likely scenario was a distributed formation—several mages hiding around the perimeter of the ruins, each maintaining their own portion.

With that in mind, Alan pivoted and headed toward the side of the ruins.

Towering trees loomed near the ruins—innocuous at first glance. But in times like these, they were the perfect places for people with ill intent to hide.

Alan’s figure darted from branch to branch, gliding through the treetops like a phantom. Every few moments, cries of agony echoed out from the shadows.

When he finally returned to the ground, he held five still-beating hearts in his hand. Not a single drop of blood stained his clothes, a clear sign that each kill had been executed in one clean strike.

With a wet splat, Alan dropped the hearts to the ground and stomped them into pulp with a single step.

Then, a shrill, eerie voice rang out from behind him.

“Kekeke… I expected no less from someone with such a high bounty on their head. Ruthless and efficient!”

Alan whirled around and spotted a repulsive man hanging upside down from a tree branch. Filthy, covered in warts, and with matted hair, the man grinned as Alan looked at him, revealing a row of yellow, rotting teeth that made Alan’s stomach churn.

“Kekeke… did you enjoy the little appetizers we prepared for you?” the man cackled. “If so, then I’m glad. But don’t get ahead of yourself. There’s still a full-course meal waiting inside the ruins. A banquet of horrors, if you will.”

The man’s smile twisted further. “Oh, and let’s not forget your darling sister. What was her name again? Isabella, wasn’t it? You wouldn’t believe how feral she became without you around—like a little lioness in heat—”

“Shut up!!”

Alan’s eyes flared with fury. The veins on his forehead bulged, a visible mark of the storm brewing within.

He launched himself toward the grotesque figure with full force.

But the dirty man vanished in a blink, his speed surpassing even Alan’s full-speed dash.

His taunting voice echoed from all directions now.

“Kekeke, come on, Alan! If you keep moving this slow, your precious little sister might not make it out alive!”

“Alan, get down!!”

Francis’s voice cut through the chaos like a whip.

Without hesitation—driven by complete trust in his comrade—Alan threw himself to the ground.

A second later, an invisible weight slammed down on his back like a mountain. It was as if the air itself had grown heavy.

Alan gritted his teeth and twisted his neck to look around. He saw Blanche and Fort also flattened against the ground, both wearing pained expressions.

Meanwhile, Francis stood tall, unaffected, casually munching on an apple.

So the sudden, crushing gravity was his doing.

Francis gave them an apologetic grin. “Sorry about that. I’m not like Fort—I can’t pinpoint his exact location. This was the best I could do.”

He then turned to Fort and asked, “Any idea where Mr. Rotten Teeth is hiding?”