Unholy Player
Chapter 201: Maleficent Architect

Chapter 201: Maleficent Architect

The structure looked both terrifying and mesmerizing. The cold black granite of the original monument now throbbed with a sinister vitality, as if the very building itself were alive. Bones, sinew, and raw flesh no longer seemed like mere additions; they had fused seamlessly into the architecture, transforming stone into something unearthly.

Pillars twisted upward, encased in coiled spinal columns that looked as if they could constrict any who dared approach. Grotesque arches formed from bloodied ribs stretched overhead, their contours pulsating faintly with a dark energy.

Between the stone beams, taut sinew cords vibrated softly, emitting a low hum that seemed to whisper forgotten curses.

Around the altar’s core, layered slabs of flesh and bone stood as solemn offerings, contrasting sharply with the unforgiving stone. Pools of thick, coagulated blood caught what little light seeped in, reflecting strange, flickering shadows that moved like restless souls.

This was no longer simply a building. It had become an unholy sanctuary—a divine work of macabre artistry where stone and flesh were intertwined in blasphemous harmony. A place heavy with ancient menace, where every surface seemed to breathe with a dark, malevolent life.

Adyr surveyed his creation, the weight of its eerie grandeur settling over him as if it echoed the perfect harmony dwelling within the darkness inside him.

He then received a system message that surprised him, something he hadn’t been expecting.

[Talent Recognition: "[Maleficent Architect (Lv1)] (Genesis)" confirmed.]

- With creation in your grasp and annihilation at your call, you shape the world not as a servant, but as its final architect, passing judgment with every breath you grant or erase.

- Proceed with registration to the Status Panel?

- Cost: 100 Energy

- Rewards: 20 Free Stat Points, Malice

The talent had downgraded from Level 2 to Level 1, but Adyr didn’t care—this downgrade was more of an upgrade, multiplied many times over.

"So I can turn my existing talents into bloodline talents as well?" Adyr murmured, genuinely surprised. This was something Liora hadn’t told him and likely didn’t know herself.

He skimmed the explanation quickly and, seeing that it came with an extra reward like the [Sword Art of Existence] talent, focused his attention there. Another system message appeared before him.

Malice:

A godless, ancient force born from pure evil and endless agony, the dark essence that fuels suffering itself.

"Now, what is this supposed to mean?" Adyr frowned. Like the Presence description, it offered no clear details—he understood he would have to learn through trial and error.

Without hesitation, he registered the talent and shifted his focus to his other body, still immersed in sword training within the walled garden of his chamber at Draven Mansion.

He stood motionless, his dark gray shortsword hanging loosely from his right hand. The hooked crossguard gave the blade a balanced weight, evoking both lethal intent and unshakable control. In his left hand, a slightly longer weapon rested—a blade forged from a black material so dense and voidlike it seemed to drink in the morning light, radiating a silent, razor-edged menace.

His upper body was bare beneath the soft touch of the early sun, every muscle sharply defined, carved with precision by relentless discipline. Eyes closed, head tilted slightly into the breeze, his unruly black hair stirred faintly in the wind. He wasn’t moving, but something within him was shifting.

He was listening—not with ears, but with instinct—searching the edges of his being, trying to feel the presence of the new power pulsing in the depths of his core.

It wasn’t like Presence, where he had failed to notice the immediate effect after registering the talent. This time, he could feel it completely—Malice was different.

A cold darkness crept across his entire body, and somewhere deep inside, he sensed a formless entity awakening. It reminded him of the chained monster from his former life, the one that had always lurked in the shadows of his soul.

But this wasn’t a metaphor. This time, it felt real, solid, and physical, as if that buried hunger had taken shape.

With a single thought, he chose to unleash it.

The black sword in his left hand trembled violently. A smoke-like, almost illusionary darkness surged from his palm, wrapping around the blade like a sentient shadow. It pulsed, alive with purpose and agony.

"So this is Malice," Adyr muttered, opening his eyes and lifting the sword. A thin layer of smoke hissed off its surface, thick with raw, physical evil.

It behaved like a skill, but it wasn’t. It didn’t draw from his Energy, and it didn’t originate from any Spark. Malice was something else entirely—something that belonged solely to him.

Curious to see what it could truly do, Adyr decided to run a few tests.

He raised the sword and, with a simple motion, swung it toward a tree standing at the edge of the garden. The distance was no less than 10 meters.

The moment the blade cut through the air, a black arc of aura erupted from its edge, slicing across the garden like a whip of shadow. It struck the tree’s trunk with a heavy, tearing sound, leaving a deep, smoldering gash before vanishing into the air.

"Now I can do long-range attacks with my swords," Adyr said with a low laugh, amused by the discovery.

But that wasn’t its only effect.

He approached the tree and examined the gash carved into its trunk. The wound was pitch black, as if the wood itself had been burned from the inside out. But what truly caught his attention was the tree’s response.

It was reacting.

"What the hell is this?" He muttered, his eyes narrowing. He dropped the sword in his right hand and reached out to touch the trunk.

The leaves trembled softly. But it wasn’t just the leaves. The entire trunk was shaking, all the way down to the roots beneath the soil. And it wasn’t the wind. There was no breeze strong enough to cause this.

"Is this..." Adyr whispered, a realization creeping into his voice. The thought seemed absurd at first—ridiculous, even—but the signs were clear.

The tree was trembling in fear.

"No way, right?" He frowned. The logic wired into him from his previous life refused to accept it. A tree... feeling fear? Shaking from it? For someone like him, practical to the core, it was nonsense—even in a world filled with fantastical laws and twisted systems.

But he needed more proof.

He turned toward a large boulder resting in the corner of the garden. Raising the sword in his left hand, he once again summoned Malice, letting the black smoke coil tightly around the blade like a living shadow.

This time, he didn’t strike from a distance. He walked up and slashed the rock directly.

The moment the blade made contact, it sliced through with no resistance, leaving deep, blackened scars along the cut. It split like warm butter, as if the stone had never been solid to begin with.

He quickly analyzed the result. It was clear that the black smoke didn’t just enable long-range attacks. It had also amplified the sword’s raw power and sharpness by at least twice as much.

Then he looked at the boulder again, at the black-stained wound carved into its surface, and paused.

Just like the tree, the stone had begun to tremble.

Not subtly. The entire mass was shuddering, and even the soil beneath it shifted, as if the rock itself might sprout legs and flee at any moment.

For a brief second, despite his usual cold detachment, Adyr nearly laughed. The absurdity of it all felt like something out of a comic series—an inanimate object trembling in fear.