SSS-Grade Acceleration Talent made me Fastest Lord of Apocalypse
Chapter 114: Searching for treasury

Chapter 114: Searching for treasury

A middle-aged merchant walked briskly through the bustling inner streets of the Blue Hammer Kingdom’s capital, his weather-worn robes fluttering with each step. Behind him, a young boy—barely in his teens—followed closely, eyes wide with a mixture of awe and skepticism.

The father bore a subtle yet proud smile, his steps light and posture confident, as if just setting foot in this part of the city had elevated his status.

He glanced over his shoulder and spoke with a tone soaked in experience, "Little Lu, remember this moment well. Not everyone gets to step foot in the Blue Hammer Kingdom’s capital."

He spread his arms wide, gesturing toward the towering buildings, shimmering merchant lanes, and opulent structures that reflected the city’s wealth and military power.

"This is one of the largest cities in the entire northern region of the True Dawn Continent. Gold flows here like water. Opportunities? Endless."

The young boy, Lu, wrinkled his brow, unconvinced. The world they had traveled through to get here was harsh and unforgiving. Bandits, corrupt guards, monster beasts, and greedy nobles—each step of their journey had been shadowed by danger.

"How can we be safe here, Father?" he asked, his voice cautious but clear. "This continent is ruthless. The weak are prey. How do you know we won’t suffer the same fate here?"

Instead of being offended, the merchant chuckled lightly. The lines on his face creased with warmth.

"That’s why you’re still green, my son," he said, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. "Let me tell you something important. The ruler of this kingdom, the Blue Hammer King, is a Channel Forging realm expert. His strength alone is enough to suppress this entire region. With him overseeing the kingdom, prosperity is guaranteed for at least another five hundred years."

His voice brimmed with conviction. To a merchant, peace meant profit—and nothing signaled peace more than an invincible king guarding the gates.

Lu’s expression relaxed slightly. What his father said made sense. On the True Dawn Continent, Channel Forging realm cultivators weren’t considered the pinnacle, but in the northern regions? They were revered like demi-gods. Their mere presence could stabilize kingdoms.

Still, an unease tugged at the edge of Lu’s mind.

Just as they were about to continue walking, a chill crept down the boy’s spine.

What...?

His body instinctively tensed, breath catching in his throat.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

His danger sense—an uncanny intuition that had saved his life more than once—flared to life like an alarm bell ringing in his soul.

"Father, wait," he whispered, reaching out and grabbing the older man’s sleeve.

The merchant halted, confused. "What is it now—"

But he never got to finish that sentence.

A low, distant rumble echoed through the stone-paved streets.

The ground beneath them vibrated, ever so slightly... then violently.

BOOM!

An earth-shattering explosion split the skies. Buildings trembled. Windows shattered. Somewhere far in the distance, a plume of fire and debris mushroomed into the heavens.

Screams echoed through the air, rising in pitch and volume. Panic surged like a wave through the crowd. People scattered like ants underfoot, some stumbling, others shrieking.

"W-What was that?" the merchant asked, face paling. His confident air was gone, replaced by fear.

Lu didn’t answer. His eyes were fixated in the direction of the explosion, where faint cracks of light—like lightning veins—danced across the skyline.

A feeling he couldn’t describe twisted in his gut.

Something monstrous was coming.

And in that moment, both father and son realized—

The kingdom’s protection was no longer something they could depend on.

The young man, Little Lu, glanced around warily. But there were no signs of immediate danger. The grand avenue leading straight to the Blue Hammer Castle was crowded with thousands—merchants, nobles, commoners, and cultivators alike—each lost in their own worlds of chatter, trade, and idle strolls. Nothing seemed out of place.

Yet that gnawing feeling in his gut only grew stronger.

He turned to his father, voice low but firm. "Father, we need to leave. Now."

The middle-aged merchant looked confused, but before he could respond, a deafening explosion rocked the air.

BOOM!

The sound was not unlike thunder striking right next to their ears—raw, primal, and overwhelming.

Little Lu’s instincts screamed. His eyes flashed.

"GET DOWN!"

There was no time to explain. No time to think.

Without hesitation, both father and son dropped to the ground, clutching the stone-paved road as if their lives depended on it—which they did.

Around them, panic erupted. Screams pierced the air. People scattered in all directions, knocking over stalls and trampling wares as chaos gripped the street. Some stood frozen, pointing in shock; others ran blindly, clutching loved ones.

Then came the shockwave.

It surged through the air like a tidal wave of invisible force. The very wind howled as if fleeing the city itself. The elite warriors stationed nearby—men and women who had earned their ranks through blood and battle—were flung away like rag dolls.

Iron rankers slammed into nearby walls. Silver rankers dropped to their knees, clutching their chests, blood spurting from their lips. It felt as though some invisible titan had struck them square in the chest with an iron fist.

And then—

A silver light.

Faint at first, like a gleam of sunlight on polished steel.

Then it streaked across the city sky, faster than any could comprehend, trailing behind a high-pitched hum that sang of pure destruction. It moved like a divine blade splitting the heavens apart.

Those who caught a glimpse of it barely understood what they’d seen before it vanished.

In the middle of it all—

"DAMN! STOP—STOP!"

Damien’s voice roared through the wind, but he was moving too fast to stop. His body, already covered in blood and battle-scars, tore through the air like a missile loosed by the gods.

His boots scraped the earth as he tried to dig in his heels, but the sheer momentum was devastating.

CRACK!

The ground fractured beneath him, the shock rippling through the castle plaza. His legs shredded from thigh to shin, flesh peeling away under the force and friction, muscle torn to ribbons.

He finally came to a halt—but only after tearing straight through the Blue Hammer Castle’s entrance.

Marble exploded. Pillars collapsed. The majestic front gate, once a symbol of strength, crumbled like dried parchment.

It was only then that the guards inside snapped to attention.

Shouts echoed.

"INTRUDER!"

"TO ARMS!"

In a blink, the air filled with killing intent as dozens of elite Blue Hammer soldiers rushed in, armor gleaming, weapons drawn, eyes wide in disbelief.

And at the center of it all—surrounded by rubble and dust—stood Damien.

His body trembled. His knees threatened to give out.

Blood poured from his legs. The skin and muscle were slowly stitching back together, layer by layer, but the healing was draining him at a terrifying rate. His internal vitality reserves, already spent from the earlier battle, were nearly dry.

Pain and hunger.

One gnawed at his nerves with white-hot blades. The other roared in his gut like a beast demanding to be fed.

Damien could barely think straight. His head swam. His stomach churned.

He blinked slowly and let out a ragged breath.

"Goddamn... I could eat a whole elephant right now."

Even surrounded, even on the verge of collapse—Damien grinned like a devil.

Even in his battered, half-starved state, Damien’s senses remained razor-sharp. His eyes, bloodshot but alert, scanned the rubble-strewn corridor as his mind rapidly pieced together the situation.

"The outer gate is in ruins."

"Chief guards aren’t responding."

"And yet... they still waste time asking questions."

Their hesitation cost them.

WEEEEE—BOOM!

The air howled with a chilling blue glow as Epoch Breaker let loose.

In a flash, compressed mana bullets ripped through the stonework and soldiers alike. Iron-ranked warriors were turned into steaming puddles of meat—entire bodies obliterated in an instant. Even Silver-ranked elites, armed to the teeth and armored with enchanted gear, couldn’t withstand more than a couple of blasts. One shot was enough to silence them—bodies crumpling, twitching, then lying still forever.

The corridors, once regal and proud, now echoed with the crack of gunfire and the fading groans of the dying.

And at the center of the carnage stood Damien, bloodied and shirtless, his body steaming from residual heat, his legs newly healed—fresh, raw flesh wrapped in sinew and force-grown skin.

He began moving again, deeper into the ruined castle halls, hunting for one thing:

The royal treasury.

If there was one place where the Blue Hammer Kingdom stored their fortune, their secrets, their priceless artifacts—it was somewhere buried deep within these halls.

But every hallway led to a dead end.

Empty archives.

Collapsed chambers.

Sealed vaults with false keys.

With every turn, his frustration grew like a thorn twisting deeper in his chest.

"Damn it!" Damien muttered under his breath, voice low and venomous. "I need to learn an investigative technique... This is going to happen again, isn’t it?"

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. Wasting time was never part of his battle plan. Especially not now—when every second could mean the escape of some high noble with an interspatial ring full of loot.

He marched forward, fury building.

Any poor fool who dared step into his path was obliterated without mercy—blasted apart before they could even raise their weapons. He was like a storm made flesh, a divine battering ram crashing through a kingdom of fragile wooden dolls.

The corridors trembled under his steps.

The walls cracked as if afraid.

Just as Damien turned down another hallway, ready to blast his way into yet another sealed chamber—

A voice rang out, cutting clean through the tension in the air.

Graceful.

Commanding.

Laced with ancient authority.

"Stop!"

The word echoed like a judge’s gavel striking stone.

Damien’s feet came to a halt—not out of fear, but from intrigue.

His fingers flexed slightly around Epoch Breaker, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

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