The core idea is what’s important about essences.
Even among legendary-grade essences, their value can differ depending on their effects.
The essences from the boxes Amon opened could be rated 2 out of 10 and 4 out of 10, respectively.
One was Adaptation, and the other was Recovery Acceleration.
Adaptation increases resistance to attacks you’ve been hit with, while Recovery Acceleration boosts all recovery speeds.
The problem is that both essences have critical flaws.
Adaptation requires the affected area to be damaged first.
Since the essence applies to clothing, it means the clothes must be repaired every time the effect activates.
Especially in modern society, where the attacks you’d need to resist are often bullets, getting hit just to gain slight resistance is sheer madness.
Recovery Acceleration isn’t much better.
It increases the recovery speed of stamina, mana, mental strength, and everything except divine power.
While it’s versatile, there are too many superior alternatives.
Stamina can be restored faster through genetic or cybernetic procedures.
Mental strength can be replenished with stimulants.
Moreover, this recovery accelerates clotting rather than regenerating tissue—unlike higher-tier essences such as Regeneration, which makes using it unnecessary.
Above all, both essences are designed for application to clothing, which is a disadvantage.
There are already many essential essences for clothing, like <Heat Resistance>, <Shock Resistance>, and <Invisibility>.
There’s no reason to waste slots on these.
***
However, none of these issues applied to Amon.
Without hesitation, Amon destroyed the essences.
Just as he had done with Sky Step in the past, the essences were absorbed into his body rather than his clothes.
Sonia and Cassie, watching the scene, expressed their astonishment in their own ways.
“I’ve only heard about it, but this is how it works?”
“Ooooh… So, we can feed him this and that…”
While Sonia marveled and touched Amon’s chest in fascination, Cassie suddenly began making a list.
Amon gave a strained smile, pushing Sonia away and stopping the overzealous Cassie.
After calming them both down, he examined himself.
He made a small cut on his hand with a knife.
The wound clotted in one second and healed in three.
His recovery had already been fast due to divine power, but with the essence’s effect, it became superhuman.
He cut his finger with the same force again.
This time, the blade didn’t cut through.
His body had already adapted.
Amon nodded in satisfaction, a pleased expression on his face.
Watching this, Sonia raised a question.
“Adaptation makes sense, but why didn’t you go for Regeneration?”
“Because the best defense is offense.”
While Regeneration would heal wounds faster, it would mean sacrificing stamina and mental strength—things Amon, who refused any surgeries, could never compromise on.
‘Amputation? Just don’t let it happen.’ That was his mindset.
He chose Recovery Acceleration over Regeneration for faster pace and efficiency.
As Sonia accepted his reasoning, Cassie raised her hand.
“Yes, Cassie?”
“You can absorb as many essences as you want, right? Even if it’s wasteful, why not just use them all?”
Cassie knocked on the nameplate of her position, emphasizing her wealth.
It was clear from her thoughts that she planned to make Amon consume every legendary-grade essence they found in dungeons.
Reading her intentions, Amon gave her a wry smile.
“It probably won’t work the way you think.”
“Why not?”
Amon tapped his temple.
“Essences also put a strain on your mental strength.”
Cyberware, genetic modifications, and magical implants—all forms of enhancement techniques placed a significant burden on mental capacity.
Overdoing it often led to “cyber-schizo” episodes, where individuals suddenly snapped.
Essences were no exception.
Although Amon had plenty of mental capacity to spare since he didn’t undergo other enhancements, he wanted to reserve it for his ultimate build.
Even after completing that build, he’d only consider using the remaining capacity if there was any left.
Unlike clothes, essences absorbed into the body couldn’t be removed, so he had to be extra cautious.
“Let’s save Regeneration for later.”
“Such a waste.”
Cassie erased the essence list she had been drafting.
“I thought with your mental strength, you could handle 100 of them easily.”
“…What made you think that?”
“Faith?”
Sonia nodded in agreement beside her.
Amon tilted his head, puzzled by their reactions.
***
The next day.
Amon and Sonia headed to a dungeon.
<The Swamp of Blasphemy>.
This swamp, teeming with toxic flora and fauna, had formed an isolated ecosystem, turning the dungeon into a jar of corruption.
The name reflected how all creatures in this swamp were equally tainted and cursed.
Despite the ominous description, the dungeon ranked as a lower-tier one.
The reason was simple: it had been fully explored and documented.
The dungeon was ancient, meaning all its toxins had been thoroughly analyzed over time.
While new mutations occasionally appeared, poisons typically worked within predictable mechanisms.
By carefully preparing antidotes and medicines, one could traverse this dungeon as if taking a casual stroll.
In front of this dungeon, a group of seminary trainees gathered.
The students, organized into teams, stood in orderly rows.
Father Silneye, their supervising professor, appeared before them.
“Artiel, Mingming, Christy…”
After a brief roll call, he distributed antidotes and assigned safety officers and evaluators to each team.
Amon visited the four teams he was responsible for one by one.
“I’m Amon, and I’ll be ensuring your safety from now on. Please take care of me.”
“Wearing a mask and sunglasses,” Amon introduced himself.
The reason Amon used these items was because of Sonia and Cassie.
“Use them. Absolutely.”
When Cassie whispered something to Sonia, Sonia immediately handed Amon a mask and sunglasses with a commanding presence.
Amon could only give a wry smile, recognizing the jealousy underlying her actions.
Amon was fully aware of his own appearance.
Even looking in the mirror filled him with a sense of reverence, so Sonia’s thoughts were obvious to him.
Moreover, Amon also disliked Sonia wearing revealing outfits in public.
As someone who prided himself on being just as possessive, he complied with Sonia’s demands without resistance.
As a result, Amon now looked like a suspicious figure wearing a skull-patterned mask and sunglasses.
(For the record, Amon had initially tried to make do with just a plain brown sweater mask but was forced to upgrade his style after receiving a slap on the back from both Sonia and Cassie.)
While introducing himself, Amon noticed the students scanning him and his gear.
Back when Amon had joined the mercenary office, his appearance gave off the vibe of a retired ninja.
But now, his equipment seemed to suggest otherwise.
‘Aren’t these the tools of an active chief of security?’
Every scan came back as blocked.
From his shoes to his pants, coat, and gloves—everything resisted scanning.
Each item was military-grade and top-tier at that.
This level of gear was typically reserved for black agents of intelligence agencies or division heads of mega-corp security departments.
Even those individuals usually had only some weapons unscannable, whereas Amon’s entire body was equipped with such items.
The students, who initially dismissed Amon as just some low-tier mercenary, immediately corrected their attitudes.
Respect comes from power, after all.
In their minds, Amon’s title shifted from “Hey” to “Sir.”
‘Jealousy or fear?’
Such emotions arise only when one believes they have a chance.
For the students, their hearts were filled with reverence.
This reverence brought a sense of relief as well.
Having someone like him ensuring their safety meant that even encountering scavengers or gangs in the dungeon wouldn’t be a concern.
Their bright, admiring eyes turned toward Amon.
Feeling the pressure of their gazes, Amon turned his head, avoiding eye contact.
But then he met Sonia’s eyes.
She gave him a faint smile.
Without thinking, Amon formed a heart with his fingers.
Sonia responded with a bright smile.
The students were dumbfounded.
Not because the two were in a relationship—Sonia had already mentioned it before the exercise began, so that wasn’t surprising.
Of course, the fact that Sonia’s partner was someone of Amon’s caliber was astounding, but their shock came from a different reason this time.
Their focus was on Sonia’s expression.
“The Gunpowder Saint smiled!”
“Wait, they’re really a couple!?”
“Wow…”
Sonia was known for only giving faint smiles to others.
For her peers, who were accustomed to her usual reserved expression, seeing her cheerful smile was nothing short of shocking.
Even Sonia’s teammates screamed in astonishment.
“You sly fox! Why can’t you act like that all the time?”
“I’m hurt. So, we’re just business partners, huh?”
“Lucky you. Dating someone like that. Life isn’t fair.”
“Do you think he knows any decent guys we could meet?”
Her teammates teased her playfully, poking her in the side.
Amon noticed they were the friends Sonia had mentioned before.
‘Looks like her friendships are strong.’
He had worried they might have been imaginary friends, but it turned out they were tangible, real connections.
Amon smiled warmly, observing Sonia interact with her friends.
Sonia wasn’t just enduring their teasing; she playfully retaliated, too.
It wasn’t just an act; they were truly her friends.
‘You’ve made some good connections.’
Amon felt genuinely happy for her, as if it were his own success.
***
With introductions complete, the teams assigned to Amon entered the dungeon.
Amon carried a sword on his hip, following the group at a measured pace.
He remained on high alert, ready to intervene if anything went wrong.
However, his tension seemed unnecessary—the students’ combat skills were overwhelming.
Compared to the mercenaries Amon had seen, these students ranked in the upper-middle tier.
‘Well, they are future paladins, after all.’
To be blunt, mercenaries often had lower standards since anyone could apply.
Even though they were still students, these elites were far superior, and comparing them to mercenaries was almost insulting.
From what Sonia had told him, detoxification was a basic skill in holy magic.
In a department filled with divine power users, this dungeon posed no real threat.
Watching the students perform so well, Amon found himself with little to do.
‘Honestly, I don’t think they need me here.’
His tension eased naturally.
It wasn’t complacency but a logical decision.
Rather than wasting energy staying on edge, it made more sense to conserve it for when it was truly needed.
But soon, Amon regretted that choice.
***
A few hours later.
“Shit…”
Amon stood in the middle of a completely devastated dungeon, muttering to himself in disbelief.
It wasn’t because scavengers had appeared or a conspiracy tied to the dungeon had unraveled.
The students were safe, and no one was hurt.
It was simply that Amon himself had caused a massive problem.
“Goddammit…”
To clarify, the problem wasn’t “massive”—it was catastrophic.
Amon, now exhausted, rubbed his face with his hands.
Since there was no one else to blame, his frustration only deepened.
‘How could I have known it would turn out like this?’
It had all started with a simple curiosity.
“Sir, are you interested in holy magic?”
A student had shown him a beginner holy spell.
A spell so basic that even someone like Amon, not particularly adept, could use it.
Rubbing his temples, Amon recalled the student’s words.
“It’s called the Confession of Faith spell. Its cleansing and destructive power scales with your faith.”
Now, at the center of what had once been <The Swamp of Blasphemy>, Amon pressed his fingers into his temples.
The dungeon had transformed into something entirely different, far from its original theme.
Amon felt utterly wronged.