《Summoned by the Demon Lord: The Skill Eater's Ascent》


 Chapter 1: New world

    The deep, echoing voice resonated through the vast chamber. The man before me¡ªor rather, the being¡ªstood tall, his black armor exuding an ominous presence. Crimson eyes peered at me through his helmet, glowing like embers in the darkness. Behind him, jagged obsidian pillars stretched toward the cavernous ceiling, casting long shadows across the cold stone floor.


    What the hell is going on?


    I tried to move, but my legs felt like jelly. My heart pounded in my chest, my mind racing with confusion.


    "Kid, maligayang pagdating sa mundo ng mga demonyo. Pinatawag kita dito para ipaglaban mo kami."


    The words barely registered, a jumble of unfamiliar sounds. Tagalog? I could understand some words. Was this some kind of dream? Did I get isekai''d?


    The armored figure tilted his head slightly before raising his gauntleted hand. A faint purple glow surrounded it, and then¡ª


    "Ay, sorry, sorry¡­ There. Can you understand me now?"


    The words shifted midair, like a ripple through reality, until suddenly, I understood him perfectly.


    I swallowed hard. My mouth felt dry.


    ¡°W-What the hell is going on?¡±


    The being in black armor chuckled, a deep, reverberating sound.


    "Heh, you are now one of my elite employee''s!"


    Zareth Malgrim stood tall, his black armor gleaming under the eerie crimson glow of the torches lining the chamber. His presence alone was suffocating, like the weight of an entire storm pressing down on me.


    But my brain couldn''t process any of that.


    "Wait, wait, hold on a second." I raised my hands, trying to steady myself. "Did you just say¡­ employee?"


    "Yes," he replied matter-of-factly. "An elite one, at that."


    I blinked. My mouth opened, then closed.


    The last thing I remembered, I was lying on my bed, reading Wind Breaker. I had just reached the part where Jay was about to¡ªwait, no, that wasn¡¯t important right now! What was important was that I had somehow been transported to another world, and now a Demon Lord in full-on final boss armor was talking to me about employment.


    I rubbed my temples, trying to make sense of it all. "Uh¡­ You sure you didn''t mean ''warrior'' or ''champion'' or something? ''Cause ''elite employee'' makes it sound like you''re hiring me for a corporate job."


    Zareth Malgrim let out a low chuckle. "What is a champion if not an employee with high expectations?"


    I stared at him. Was this guy serious?


    "You will fight for us," he continued, voice unwavering. "You will lead our armies. You will face the strongest humans in battle."


    Okay. That sounded a lot more like what I was expecting from an isekai summoning. Still, I couldn''t shake the feeling that something was¡­ off.


    "And what if I say no?" I asked cautiously.


    Zareth''s crimson eyes locked onto mine, glowing like burning coals.


    "Then I''ll have to fire you."


    I gulped. Somehow, I got the feeling he didn¡¯t mean that in the normal HR way.


    wait "What about my special skill?! You didn''t summon me here without thinking of one right?" I quickly jump up and down expecting for something overpowered.


    I clenched my fists, bouncing on my feet again. ¡°What about my special skill?! You didn¡¯t just summon me without thinking of one, right?¡±


    Zareth Malgrim crossed his arms, his crimson eyes glowing faintly. ¡°Hmm¡­ Special skill, you say?¡±


    I stopped mid-bounce, feeling a bead of sweat roll down my temple. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­ you didn¡¯t check?!¡±


    Zareth let out a low chuckle. ¡°Summoning magic is unpredictable. It¡¯s not as if I chose you personally. The ritual did.¡±


    I nearly tripped. ¡°So you¡¯re saying I might not even have a special skill?!¡±


    The Demon Lord merely shrugged. ¡°Unlikely, but possible.¡±


    I felt my soul leave my body. What kind of isekai summoning was this?!


    Zareth watched me freak out for a moment before he sighed and lifted his hand. A dark, swirling energy gathered in his palm, pulsing like a living thing. ¡°Well, since I am the one who brought you here, I suppose I should offer you something.¡±


    I looked up at the ominous black energy swirling in his grasp. ¡°Uh¡­ what is that?¡±


    ¡°A skill,¡± Zareth said simply. ¡°One of my own making. Consider it a gift for my newest employee.¡±


    My gut told me this wasn¡¯t going to be a free gift, but what choice did I have? Gritting my teeth, I nodded. ¡°Alright. Hit me with it.¡±


    The Demon Lord smirked. ¡°Then accept my power, human.¡±


    Before I could react, the dark energy shot toward me, slamming into my chest.


    Pain.


    A searing, suffocating sensation burned through my body, like every fiber of my being was set on fire from the inside. My muscles tensed, my heartbeat thundered in my ears, and for a moment, I thought I was going to explode¡ª


    Then it stopped.


    I gasped for air, dropping to one knee. My whole body tingled, like I had just finished an extreme workout without warming up.


    Zareth loomed over me. ¡°It is done.¡±


    I forced myself to stand. ¡°What¡­ What did you just give me?¡±


    ¡°A skill of my own design,¡± Zareth said, watching me closely. ¡°Abyssal Override.¡±


    I swallowed. ¡°And what does it do?¡±


    ¡°It enhances your physical abilities far beyond human limits,¡± he explained. ¡°Speed, strength, reflexes¡ªeverything will reach extraordinary levels.¡±


    My heart skipped a beat. ¡°That sounds awesome!¡±


    Zareth chuckled. ¡°For a short time.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Wait, what?¡±


    ¡°Abyssal Override is not without consequences,¡± he continued. ¡°Once it wears off, the strain will leave you weak and exhausted. Overusing it might even kill you.¡±


    I felt my excitement drain. ¡°That¡­ sounds significantly less awesome.¡±


    Zareth smirked. ¡°You asked for a skill. I delivered.¡±


    I groaned, rubbing my temples. ¡°Yeah, but you gave me one with a self-destruct button.¡±


    The Demon Lord simply shrugged. ¡°All power comes at a price. Learn to use it well, human.¡±


    I let out a deep sigh, but deep down, I couldn¡¯t deny it¡ªthis was the first step to surviving in this world.


    No turning back now.


    I took a deep breath, shaking off the lingering exhaustion from whatever weird ritual Zareth just did to me.


    "Alright," I muttered, clenching my fists. "So how do I activate it?"


    Zareth smirked. "Simple. Just will it to activate."


    I blinked. "That''s it?"


    "That''s it."


    I exhaled slowly, nodding. Okay. Just focus. Imagine yourself getting stronger.


    I closed my eyes and concentrated. My body tensed as I visualized raw power surging through me¡ªmy muscles tightening, my reflexes sharpening, my speed increasing to inhuman levels. I felt something shift inside me, like a hidden switch being flipped.


    And then¡ª


    BOOM!


    A violent wave of force exploded from my body, cracking the stone floor beneath my feet. My vision turned razor-sharp, every detail in the room now crystal clear. My heartbeat pounded in my ears like a war drum, and a searing heat rushed through my veins.


    I felt unstoppable.


    "Holy crap," I muttered, flexing my fingers. "This is insane!"


    Zareth raised an eyebrow. "Not bad. Your body is adapting quickly."


    A wide grin spread across my face. This was exactly the kind of overpowered skill I was hoping for! With this, I could¡ª


    My thoughts were cut off by a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest.


    "AGH!" My knees buckled as a crushing weight pressed down on me. My breathing turned ragged, my vision swam, and the raw power I felt just seconds ago vanished like smoke in the wind.


    I collapsed onto my hands and knees, gasping for air.


    Zareth let out an amused chuckle. "And there''s the downside."


    I glared up at him, sweat dripping down my face. "You¡ªcould''ve¡ªwarned me!"


    "I did," he said with a smirk. "You just chose to ignore the consequences."


    I groaned, my limbs feeling like lead. It was like pulling an all-nighter, running a marathon, and then getting hit by a truck¡ªall at once.


    "Welcome to the world of demons, human," Zareth said, his crimson eyes gleaming. "This is only the beginning."


    I gritted my teeth. Damn it. If I''m going to survive here¡­ I need to master this power.


    I groaned, still lying on the cold stone floor, my limbs refusing to move. Every muscle in my body ached like I had just sprinted a hundred miles while carrying a boulder.


    Then it hit me.


    "Wait. Why the hell should I even master this power?!" I snapped, forcing myself to sit up. "This isn''t some cheat skill¡ªit''s a bomb strapped onto me!"


    Zareth chuckled, clearly entertained by my suffering. "A rather useful bomb, don¡¯t you think?"


    I shot him a glare. "No, I don¡¯t think! What kind of broken-ass skill is this?! Sure, I get strong for a few seconds, but then I¡¯m completely useless after! That¡¯s not a power¡ªthat¡¯s a goddamn trap!"


    Zareth smirked. "I never said it was without risks."


    I ran a frustrated hand through my hair. "Then tell me this¡ªhow the hell am I supposed to fight for you when I don¡¯t even have an OP skill?!"


    The Demon Lord studied me for a moment, then let out a low hum. "Hmm¡­ A fair question."


    I crossed my arms, waiting for an actual answer.


    Then, to my shock, Zareth threw his head back and laughed. A deep, booming sound that echoed through the chamber.


    "Good!" He grinned, stepping forward. "I was worried you¡¯d be one of those blindly loyal types, eager to accept power without question."


    I blinked. "What?"


    He knelt slightly, leveling his crimson gaze with mine. "Let me tell you something, human. The strongest warriors in this world are not those gifted with overwhelming power from the start. Strength is built, sharpened like a blade. What I have given you is nothing more than a foundation."


    I frowned, trying to process his words. "So¡­ what, you¡¯re saying I can improve it?"


    Zareth smirked. "Anything can be improved, if you¡¯re willing to put in the effort."


    I looked down at my hands, still trembling from the aftereffects of Abyssal Override.


    The idea that I could train this skill, push past its limitations¡­ It sounded good, but that didn¡¯t change the fact that it was a major liability right now.


    I exhaled, shaking my head. "I don¡¯t know, man. I still think I got screwed over here."


    Zareth chuckled. "Perhaps. Or perhaps this is exactly what you need."


    I wanted to argue¡ªbut deep down, a tiny voice in my head whispered: What if he''s right?


    I sighed and scratched my head, still feeling the lingering exhaustion from Abyssal Override. "Alright, fine, whatever. But at least tell me¡ªwhat even is this world? Who are we fighting, and how strong are they?"


    Zareth¡¯s smirk faded slightly, replaced by a more serious expression. "You stand in the Demon Realm¡ªa vast land ruled by the Fourteen Demon Lords. I am one of them."


    I crossed my arms. "Yeah, I got that part. But what about the enemies?"


    Zareth let out a low hum. "Our main enemies are humans."


    I blinked. "Wait, what?"


    "The world beyond the Demon Realm belongs to them," Zareth continued. "Kingdoms, empires, holy orders¡ªall united under their so-called gods. They see us as monsters, threats that must be eradicated. War has raged between our kind for centuries."


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    I let that sink in. So this wasn¡¯t some standard ¡®hero versus demon lord¡¯ story. The humans weren¡¯t necessarily the good guys either.


    "So, uh¡­ how strong are they?" I asked cautiously.


    Zareth¡¯s eyes gleamed. "Stronger than you can imagine."


    A chill ran down my spine.


    "The average human soldier is weak, barely more than fodder," he admitted. "But their elites¡ªthe knights, adventurers, and champions blessed by their gods¡ªare another matter entirely."


    I frowned. "You¡¯re telling me humans can get divine blessings?"


    Zareth nodded. "Indeed. The strongest among them hold Divine Protections or Unique Skills¡ªpowers granted by their gods. Some of them can rival or even surpass Demon Lords."


    I gulped. "So... how do we even win against that?"


    Zareth smirked. "That¡¯s where you come in, human."


    I groaned. "Right, of course. Summon the random guy from another world and hope for the best."


    Zareth chuckled. "Do not underestimate yourself. You may not realize it yet, but the potential for greatness lies within you."


    I scoffed. "Yeah, yeah. Says the guy who strapped a self-destruct skill onto me."


    Zareth¡¯s smirk widened. "Then survive, grow stronger, and prove me wrong."


    I sighed, running a hand down my face. "Man, I really should¡¯ve just kept reading my damn manhwa..."


    I stood up, crossing my arms. "So¡­ what kind of training am I supposed to do?"


    Zareth tapped his chin, as if considering something deeply. "Training, hmm¡­ I suppose the best place to start is by boosting your endurance."


    I smirked. "Oh? So, something like Saitama¡¯s training? You know¡ª100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, and a 10km run every day?"


    Zareth tilted his head. "No."


    I blinked. "No?"


    His smirk widened. "I¡¯m just going to beat you half to death and heal you."


    My entire body froze. "...What?"


    Before I could process the absolute insanity of what he just said, Zareth cracked his knuckles. The sound alone sent a shiver down my spine.


    "Let¡¯s begin."


    ¡°WAIT¡ª¡±


    BOOM!


    Before I could even react, a massive force slammed into my gut, sending me flying across the room. I crashed into the stone wall with a loud THUD, the impact knocking the air out of my lungs.


    I wheezed, barely able to lift my head. "What the hell, man¡ª"


    Zareth was already standing over me.


    His armored fist plunged down.


    CRACK.


    Pain exploded across my face as I felt myself die.


    Everything went dark.


    A moment later, I gasped back to life, feeling a cold, tingling sensation wash over me. I sat up with a choked breath, my body still aching but¡­ whole.


    Zareth loomed over me, his hands still glowing with dark magic. "Good. The healing spell works fine."


    I stared at him in horror. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"


    Zareth smirked. "This is training."


    "THIS IS TORTURE!"


    "Semantics."


    I scrambled backward, my entire body still trembling from the very recent experience of death. "Dude! How is this supposed to help me?!"


    Zareth shrugged. "Your body will adapt. The more you endure, the longer you¡¯ll last in real combat."


    I felt like crying. "You could¡¯ve just given me a normal training regimen!"


    He cracked his knuckles again. "That would take too long."


    I paled. "W-Wait, hold on, let¡¯s talk about this¡ª"


    BOOM.


    And just like that, my second death of the day began.


    "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!"


    I thrashed around, flailing my arms as I tried to scramble away. Screw this! I was not about to be some Demon Lord¡¯s punching bag!


    Zareth sighed, shaking his head. "Hey, you should really stop screaming."


    "LIKE HELL I WILL!"


    He smirked. "If the other Demon Lords hear you, they might kill both me and you."


    I froze mid-scream. "What?!"


    Zareth scratched his cheek. "Well, you see¡­ they don¡¯t exactly know I summoned a human. Hehe."


    I stared at him in sheer disbelief. "You mean¡ª"


    BOOM.


    A fist slammed into my stomach.


    I rocketed backward, my vision shaking as I felt my soul leave my body for the third time today. I coughed up air, wheezing on the ground.


    "WAIT¡ªwait! Just explain fir¡ª"


    BOOM.


    Another hit.


    I barely processed what happened before I found myself upside down, mid-air. Time seemed to slow down as I saw Zareth¡¯s fist retract, his smirk way too entertained for my liking.


    I crashed into the ground, dust and debris scattering around me. Every cell in my body screamed in agony.


    I lay there twitching, barely able to move. "I¡­ I hate this world¡­"


    Zareth cracked his knuckles again. "Come now, human. We¡¯re just getting started."


    "There, you should be fully healed."


    I gasped, feeling the familiar icy sensation of Zareth¡¯s magic washing over me. My body, which had just been repeatedly obliterated, was back to perfect condition.


    Zareth smirked. "But hey, you¡¯re improving! You endured five minutes longer this time! At first, you only lasted for one second!"


    I groaned, barely able to lift my head. "M-Maybe¡­ because I was running?"


    Zareth wagged his finger. "No, no, I wasn¡¯t talking about that. I meant the time it takes for you to die."


    I blinked. "Hu¡ª"


    BOOM.


    Pain. Pain. I didn¡¯t even see it coming. My entire world flipped as I was sent crashing through the ground again.


    I barely managed to lift a trembling hand. "W-WHAT THE FUCK¡ªat least give me a¡ª"


    BOOM.


    Zareth casually wiped dust off his gauntlet. "Less complaining, more training."


    I coughed. "This isn''t training, you bastard! This is a goddamn war crime!"


    He chuckled. "Good! That means it¡¯s working."


    I lay there, twitching.


    This¡­ this Demon Lord was insane.


    "Now, let¡¯s try this with a weapon, shall we?"


    I barely managed to lift my head from the ground, my entire body still twitching from the seventh time I had died today. "Huh¡­?"


    Zareth held out his hand, and with a flash of dark energy, a massive black sword materialized in his grasp. Its jagged edges pulsed with eerie red veins, practically screaming danger.


    I immediately panicked. "A WEAPON?! WHY THE HELL ARE WE MOVING ON SO FAST?!"


    Zareth smirked. "Well, you¡¯re improving so quickly, I figured I should increase the difficulty."


    I flailed weakly on the ground. "I literally can¡¯t move right now¡ª"


    "Good. That¡¯ll make dodging more of a challenge."


    "I SWEAR TO GOD¡ª"


    WHOOSH.


    The sword came down.


    "Huh? I''m back?"


    I blinked, suddenly perfectly healed again. My body felt fine¡ªno pain, no broken bones, just¡­ normal.


    Zareth grinned. "See? That wasn¡¯t painful at all!"


    I slowly sat up, staring at him with suspicion. "Wait¡­ really? That last one didn¡¯t hurt?"


    "Of course not."


    I exhaled in relief. "Oh, thank god¡ª"


    WHOOSH.


    The black sword swung down.


    SLASH!


    "AHHH, MY BACK!"


    I collapsed onto the floor, searing pain shooting through my entire body. I could barely breathe, my nerves screaming as I clutched at the wound.


    Zareth chuckled. "Oh, my bad. I meant the last death didn¡¯t hurt. This one? Yeah, this one¡¯s gonna sting."


    I wheezed, barely able to turn my head toward him. "You¡ªabsolute¡ªpsychopath¡ª"


    He swung again.


    I opened my eyes.


    I was healed again.


    The moment I realized my body was in one piece, I didn¡¯t waste a second.


    I jumped to my feet and sprinted toward the nearest door. "HAHA! SEE YOU, SUCKER!"


    Zareth tilted his head. "Hm?"


    I didn¡¯t care. I bolted out of the room, my legs moving faster than they ever had in my entire life.


    The hallway outside was massive, made of dark stone and towering pillars. This place was definitely a fortress. The air smelled ancient, and everything felt eerie, but I didn¡¯t stop running.


    I could see it¡ªa large open courtyard up ahead. Freedom!


    But then¡­


    The light started to disappear.


    "Huh?"


    At first, I thought it was just my eyes adjusting. But no¡ªshadows crept in from the edges of my vision, swallowing the walls, the floor, even the air itself.


    Panic surged through me.


    My feet stopped touching the ground.


    I was falling.


    "AHHHHHH FUCK!" I screamed as the world around me vanished into pure darkness. My arms flailed wildly, trying to grab onto anything, but there was nothing to hold.


    "WHAT THE FUCK?! WHY IS EVERYTHING DISAPPEARING?!"


    The fortress, the door, the floor¡ªeverything was gone.


    I was free-falling into an abyss.


    "HAHAHAHA! Why are you crying?!"


    "Huh?" I blinked, feeling something wet on my face. I wiped my cheeks and¡ªwait. Was I actually crying?!


    Zareth stood over me, arms crossed, grinning like a maniac.


    I immediately pointed at him. "STOP LAUGHING! IT¡¯S NOT FUNNY!" My voice cracked, but I didn¡¯t care. "And¡ªWHAT EVEN WAS THAT?!"


    Zareth chuckled. "Ah, that? Just my personal security system. Can¡¯t have you running off now, can we?"


    I gawked at him. "Security system?! You mean the VOID OF DEATH I FELL INTO?!"


    He waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, relax. It just teleports you back here."


    I clenched my fists. "IT FELT LIKE I DIED!"


    Zareth smirked. "Then maybe don¡¯t run away."


    I collapsed onto the ground, face in my hands. "I hate this place."


    "Yeah, me too," Zareth said with a sigh.


    SLASH!


    "FUCK!" I clutched my side as pain exploded through my body. I collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air.


    "LET ME FREE! THIS IS TORTURE, NOT TRAINING!"


    Zareth smirked, resting his sword on his shoulder. "Oh? But look at you! You¡¯re lasting longer with each session."


    I glared up at him, rage burning in my soul. "I DON¡¯T WANT TO ¡®LAST LONGER,¡¯ I WANT TO LEAVE!"


    He shrugged. "Too bad. You signed up for this the moment you got summoned."


    "I DIDN¡¯T SIGN UP FOR SHIT!"


    "Semantics."


    "STOP SAYING SEMANTICS!"


    Zareth chuckled. "Come now, human. On your feet. We¡¯re only getting started."


    I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, praying for a miracle.


    ***


    I wasn¡¯t special. Not in the way people in fantasy stories were. No tragic past, no grand ambitions¡ªjust an average guy.


    Back home, I was just another college student, scraping by with decent grades and spending most of my free time reading manhwa, watching anime, and gaming. My routine was simple: wake up, go to class, come home, and drown myself in whatever fictional world I could escape into.


    I wasn¡¯t athletic, but I wasn¡¯t weak either. I did enough to stay in shape¡ªjogging a bit, hitting the gym once in a while when my friends dragged me along. Not that it mattered now. The body I spent years getting used to felt¡­ different. Stronger in some ways, but also fragile in others.


    I ran a hand through my messy black hair, the same as always. My dark brown eyes stared back at me in my reflection earlier, but something in them had changed. Maybe it was the exhaustion from getting beat to near death repeatedly, or maybe it was the realization that my old life was truly gone.


    I had no grand dreams of becoming a hero. No desire to fight in some war between demons and humans. And yet, here I was, summoned by a Demon Lord who expected me to fight for him.


    Life had been unfair before¡ªbut at least back then, I had a choice.


    ***


    The sound of footsteps snapped me back to reality.


    "Alright, break time¡¯s over," Zareth¡¯s voice rang out. "Let¡¯s see if you¡¯ve learned anything."


    I groaned. "Can¡¯t I at least get a meal first?"


    BOOM.


    Pain shot through me again.


    "Ah, my bad. You were saying?"


    I was going to die here.


    Again.


    And again.


    And again.


    "Ho? Someone''s here," Zareth mutters, turning his gaze toward the doorframe.


    I barely lift my head, still lying on the cold floor, body aching from the so-called "training."


    Then, a voice echoes in my head.


    ''Don''t speak up that I summoned you here. Act like a demon.''


    ''Huh? Is that you? And how does a demon even act?'' I think back, confused.


    Before he can respond, the door creaks open. A chilling yet strangely alluring presence fills the room. The air itself feels heavier, yet it isn''t oppressive¡ªmore like shadows curling around the edges of my vision.


    I turn my head, and there she is.


    A woman with long, dark violet hair that cascades down her back, crimson eyes that gleam with amusement, and a sly smirk curling her lips. She walks in with an effortless grace, the kind that makes it seem like she owns any space she enters.


    Her gaze falls on me.


    "My, my, who do we have here?"


    Zareth crosses his arms, unfazed. "What do you want, Nyxara?"


    The 10th Demon Lord. Queen of Shadows.


    And judging by the way she¡¯s looking at me, I have a very bad feeling about this.


    Zareth sighs, clearly unimpressed. ¡°Can¡¯t I visit you? I was bored anyways,¡± Nyxara says playfully, stepping further into the room.


    Her crimson eyes lock onto me as she saunters forward, moving like a shadow slipping through the cracks. Before I can even react, she crouches down and grabs my chin between her fingers, tilting my face up to meet her gaze.


    ¡°Who is this handsome young man?¡± she muses, her lips curling into a smirk.


    My body tenses. Her touch is cool, like the edge of a blade resting against my skin. I don¡¯t know if she¡¯s analyzing me, toying with me, or something else entirely.


    Zareth scoffs. ¡°He¡¯s one of my subordinates.¡±


    I internally panic. Subordinate?!


    Nyxara raises a brow, her amusement deepening. ¡°Oh? Since when did you start recruiting such¡­ interesting company?¡± Her thumb brushes against my jaw slightly before she lets go, standing back up.


    I gulp. Oh crap. Is she suspicious?


    Zareth remains stoic. ¡°That¡¯s none of your concern.¡±


    Nyxara pouts. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be so cold, Zareth. You know I have a soft spot for handsome young men.¡± Her eyes flick back to me. ¡°And this one¡­ he¡¯s different, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    I need to say something. Anything. But what the hell does a demon even sound like?!


    I gulp, my mind racing. Think, think! Say something a demon would say!


    I straighten up, putting on my best attempt at a smug grin. ¡°Heh¡­ well, Lady Nyxara¡­ I must admit, your beauty is so overwhelming that I almost forgot how to breathe.¡±


    The room goes dead silent.


    Zareth turns to stare at me, his expression unreadable.


    Nyxara blinks. Once. Twice.


    I press forward, fully committing to my terrible decision. ¡°In fact¡­¡± I lower my voice, trying to sound seductive, ¡°if you hold my chin any longer, I might just fall for you. And trust me, once I fall, I fall hard.¡±


    Another pause.


    Nyxara¡¯s expression shifts from amusement¡­ to something unreadable¡­ then finally, to sheer secondhand embarrassment.


    ¡°Pfft¡ªHAHAHAHA!!¡± Zareth suddenly bursts out laughing, clutching his stomach.


    Nyxara lets go of my chin and takes a step back, rubbing her temples. ¡°Okay. No. I changed my mind. I¡¯m not that bored.¡±


    She turns around, already walking towards the exit. ¡°I swear, Zareth, I don¡¯t know where you found this one, but whatever little fantasy he¡¯s living in, I want no part of it.¡±


    The door slams shut behind her.


    Zareth is still wheezing, barely able to stand.


    I just sit there, staring at the door.


    ¡°¡­Holy shit. That actually worked.¡±


    Zareth finally stops laughing, his shoulders still shaking as he wipes a tear from his eye. "No shit it worked, you ugly fuck."


    I snap my head toward him, my pride taking a direct hit. "WHAT? WHO ARE YOU CALLING UGLY? LOOK AT YOURSELF! YOU''RE HIDING YOUR FACE!"


    Zareth tilts his head, clearly entertained. "Oh? Do you want to see my face that badly?"


    I open my mouth to argue but immediately shut it. Wait. Do I? What if he''s actually some eldritch horror under that helmet? Or worse¡­ what if he¡¯s ridiculously handsome and I just played myself?


    "...You know what? Keep it on. I''m good," I mumble, crossing my arms.


    Zareth chuckles. "That''s what I thought."


    With insane speeds, Zareth swings his sword almost like a whip. I see it¡ªbut I couldn''t react in time.


    SWING.


    "FUCK!"


    "Impressive! You''re improving fast. You even read my attack!" He claps before continuing his relentless assault.


    SLASH.


    SLASH.


    SLASH.


    "Ha! You''re really something."


    I barely manage to stay on my feet, my breathing ragged. My arms feel like lead, my legs are shaking, and my vision is getting blurry.


    "Ha¡­ Ha¡­ Fuck¡­!" I wheeze, trying to regain my footing.


    Zareth grins under his helmet. "You''re really something."


    I glare at him. "Yeah? Well, I¡¯d be something a lot better if you actually trained me instead of trying to kill me!"


    He swings again¡ªfaster this time. I barely twist my body in time to avoid a direct hit, but the wind pressure alone sends me flying backward.


    CRASH.


    I groan, wincing as I shift in the pile of rubble I just crashed into. Every muscle in my body screams in protest, my bones aching from the relentless abuse. "This¡­ this is bullshit¡­"


    Zareth approaches, his armored boots crunching over broken stone. He rests his massive sword casually on his shoulder, as if this is nothing more than an afternoon stroll. "Nonsense. You''re getting better."


    I push myself up, wiping the blood from my lips with the back of my hand. My arms tremble from exhaustion, and my vision swims. "Better?! At what, dying?!"


    I''ve been at this for five days. Swing, slash, block, dodge, heal¡ªrepeat. Again and again. No rest, no reprieve. My body is running on fumes, and Zareth refuses to let up.


    I stagger to my feet, my stomach twisting with hunger pains. My breaths come in ragged gasps, my limbs heavy as lead. "Please¡­ just¡ªjust feed me¡­ I''m still human. I need food to survive¡­" My voice cracks, desperation creeping into my tone. I clutch my stomach, hoping to quell the emptiness. "I haven¡¯t eaten anything since you summoned me¡­ Please¡­"


    Zareth watches me with those eerie violet eyes, his expression unreadable. Then, with an exasperated sigh, he flicks his wrist. A chunk of charred meat materializes in his hand, still sizzling. He tosses it at me like I''m some stray dog.


    "Eat, then," he says, amused. "But don''t think this means training is over."


    I catch the meat on instinct, my hunger overriding my pride. I glare up at him, but I don¡¯t hesitate to take a bite. The taste is rough, bitter, but right now, it''s the best damn thing I''ve ever eaten.


    I swallow hard, my body already screaming for more. "You could''ve done this five days ago," I grumble between bites.


    Zareth chuckles. "And miss out on watching you suffer? What a waste that would''ve been."


    I shoot him a glare, but I don¡¯t have the strength to argue. I¡¯ll get back at him later. Right now, all I care about is stuffing my face before he decides starvation is part of the training regimen.


    I freeze mid-bite. Slowly, I lower the chunk of meat and stare at Zareth. "...What?"


    He smirks, arms crossed. "You asked what it was. I answered."


    My stomach churns. The taste still lingers on my tongue, rich and savory, but now it feels like poison. I gag, dropping the meat as I stagger back. "You''re kidding. Tell me you''re kidding."


    Zareth tilts his head. "Does it matter?"


    I clutch my stomach, bile rising in my throat. "Of course it matters! I just ate¡ª" I can''t even say it. My hands shake. My whole body tenses like I can force the food out through sheer will.


    Zareth watches, unimpressed. "You needed food. You got food. Does it taste any worse now that you know?"


    I glare at him, heart pounding. "You''re insane."


    He sighs, rubbing his temple like I''m the one being difficult. "Stop whining. If it makes you feel better, it wasn¡¯t anyone important."


    I quickly force myself to puke, doubling over as I shove my fingers down my throat. My stomach clenches, and a wave of nausea overtakes me. Moments later, I¡¯m on my knees, retching onto the cold stone floor.


    Zareth watches in silence, unimpressed. "Pathetic."


    I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, my whole body trembling. "Screw you," I rasp. My throat burns, my stomach still twisting in horror.


    He sighs, shaking his head. "You''re weak. You reject what keeps you alive out of petty human sentiment."


    I glare up at him, eyes burning. "I¡¯m not a damn cannibal."


    Zareth smirks. "You are now."


    I raise my hand, giving him the middle finger.


    His grin widens, fangs glinting in the dim light. "Did you somehow forget I¡¯m a demon?" His crimson eyes gleam with amusement before narrowing slightly. "Tell me, Elric Dela Cruz, how long do you think you¡¯ll last in my world with that pathetic mindset?"


    I don¡¯t respond. My stomach still churns, my throat raw from vomiting, but the taste lingers¡ªmetallic, sickening, human.


    My hands shake as I wipe my mouth again, my breath unsteady. Did I really just eat a human?


    The thought slams into me like a sledgehammer. The nausea, the horror, the revulsion¡ªit''s all there, clawing at my mind.


    But beneath it, something else stirs. A bitter, ugly realization.


    If I have to survive here¡­ I¡¯ll need to adapt.


    My fists clench. My jaw tightens.


    FUCK.

 Chapter 2: Let me out!!

    "Please... I''m gonna go crazy before we even finish this training. It''s been two weeks already, you goddamn Demon Lord!"


    Zareth smirks, arms crossed. "Two weeks in, and guess what? You''re still talking¡ªdespite your limbs being torn off and you still bleeding. So I''d say it''s working just fine."


    "Ahh, fuck." Everything goes dark.


    And then¡ªjust like that¡ªI¡¯m healed again.


    I groan, rubbing my temples. "How long are we gonna keep doing this? This is seriously messing with my head."


    Zareth hums, amused. "Hmm¡­ I suppose your progress has been fast."


    I can feel his grin behind his helmet. "How about a deal?"


    "A deal with a demon? Oh yeah, I should definitely take that, right?!" I snap, my voice dripping with sarcasm. My body still aches from the endless cycle of death and revival, but the frustration outweighs the pain.


    I glare up at him, my breathing ragged. "DO YOU THINK I¡¯M STUPID?" I spit at him, my patience worn thin. The glob of spit lands near his feet, sizzling slightly against the black stone.


    Zareth tilts his head, unimpressed. "Hey¡­ that¡¯s not very nice." He steps forward, his towering figure casting a long shadow over me. "At least hear me out first."


    His tone is almost playful, but I can feel the weight behind his words. This isn¡¯t just a casual conversation. There¡¯s something dangerous in his voice¡ªsomething that tells me I should listen.


    But do I really have a choice?


    I cross my arms, sighing. "Fine... go on."


    Zareth chuckles, clearly amused by my reluctance. "If you successfully dodge my attack even once, I will¡ª" He lifts his helmet just enough to reveal one of his eyes, its eerie glow cutting through the dim light. He taps his left temple, his clawed finger resting just below his eye. "If you manage that, I''ll give you a copy of my eye."


    I freeze. An eye? My mind scrambles to process what he''s offering. He¡¯s gonna give me that eye? A Sharingan?!


    I blink, staring at him. "Wait, seriously? That¡¯s it?"


    Zareth¡¯s smirk deepens. "So, what happens if I don¡¯t?"


    "Simple," he says, lowering his helmet back into place. "I''ll make you fight my tikbalang. How about that?"


    I frown. "Tik... what?"


    He lets out a low, sinister chuckle. "Oh, you''ll see soon enough."


    Something tells me I really don¡¯t want to find out.


    "Now, I''ll give you ten tries. Let''s start."


    Before I can even process his words, he swings.


    A blur of steel cuts through the air, and for a split second, I see the attack¡ªhis blade bending, the trajectory clear in my mind. I can dodge it.


    But my body is too slow.


    SLASH.


    Pain explodes across my torso as I¡¯m sent sprawling backward. Blood drips onto the cold stone floor, my breath hitching from the shock.


    "FUCK, THAT HURTS!" I grit my teeth, forcing myself up. My wounds are already closing, but the pain lingers. "Again!"


    Zareth doesn¡¯t hesitate. Another swing.


    I see it again¡ªclearer this time. I know where it''s going, know exactly how to avoid it.


    But my body still can¡¯t keep up.


    SLASH.


    I crash onto my back, gasping. My vision swims, but I force myself to focus. I can do this... I just need to move faster.


    Zareth watches, amused. "Eight more chances. Try not to die too quickly."


    I groan, wiping the blood from my mouth. Yeah, yeah... easier said than done.


    "COME!"


    Another swing? Where is it coming from¡ªthe left? The right?


    My eyes dart, trying to track his movement. Shit¡ª!


    A thrust.


    I see it. The blade lunges straight for me, aimed right at my gut. But my body¡ªbattered, sluggish, barely holding together¡ªwon¡¯t move fast enough. If he had done this earlier, before the pain, before the exhaustion¡ªmaybe, maybe I could¡¯ve dodged.


    Fuck!


    THRUST.


    The blade pierces through. Agony erupts in my stomach as the force sends me staggering back. My vision blurs, my knees buckle, and I barely stay conscious as the cold steel pulls away, leaving only searing pain in its wake.


    Zareth tilts his head. "Seven more chances."


    I gasp for air, blood dripping from my lips. I have to move... I have to keep up...


    I clench my fists, forcing myself to stand. "Again."


    Darkness surrounds me, swallowing everything. For a brief moment, there¡¯s nothing¡ªno pain, no sound, just emptiness.


    And then¡ª


    Healed.


    I gasp as my senses snap back, my body resetting as if the last wound never happened. But the phantom pain still lingers in my mind, a cruel reminder of how much I suck at this.


    "AGAIN!" I shout, forcing myself into position.


    Zareth doesn¡¯t hesitate.


    This time, he doesn¡¯t immediately swing. Instead, he takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his heavy boots echoing in the chamber.


    My muscles tense. He¡¯s changing it up.


    A swing? A thrust?


    His blade moves¡ª


    A slash!


    It¡¯s aiming for my legs.


    My eyes widen. I see it. I can dodge it!


    My body reacts. Just before impact, I push off the ground, jumping¡ª


    SLASH.


    I land hard, knees bending to absorb the shock. My chest rises and falls, my breath ragged. Did I¡­?


    I blink. I don¡¯t feel any pain. No sharp sting, no blood pooling beneath me.


    I glance down¡ª


    And freeze.


    A clean cut runs through my pants, right across my thighs. The fabric hangs loose, barely holding together. But my skin? Completely untouched.


    I look up, heart pounding. "I did it... I dodged!"


    Silence.


    Zareth stares at me, unreadable behind his helmet. Then, after a long pause¡ª


    A slow, amused chuckle.


    "...Hah."


    A shiver runs down my spine.


    Oh, shit.


    Zareth steps forward, his massive frame looming over me like a dark monolith.


    I instinctively take a step back, but the cold stone floor offers no escape. His armored boots click against the ground, each step deliberate, controlled.


    Then¡ªhis hand rises.


    Panic surges through me. Shit¡ª


    "DON¡¯T HIT ME!" I throw my arms up, squeezing my eyes shut like a kid about to get scolded.


    Seconds pass. No pain. No impact.


    Cautiously, I peek through my fingers.


    Zareth is still standing there, completely unfazed. With an almost bored expression, he reaches out and effortlessly pushes my hands aside. Before I can react, his palm presses against my face.


    I tense, expecting something¡ªcold, burning, maybe even soul-crushing agony.


    Instead¡­ warmth.


    A strange, gentle heat spreads from his touch, seeping into my skin. It¡¯s not the oppressive, suffocating power I imagined from a Demon Lord. It feels almost¡­ soothing. Like the morning sun on a cold day.


    I blink in confusion. "What¡­?"


    "There," Zareth says, his tone as casual as if he¡¯d just dusted lint off my shirt. He pulls his hand away and steps back, arms crossing over his chest.


    I slowly lower my hands, still reeling. "Is it¡­ done?"


    His smirk widens slightly. "Check for yourself."


    I hesitate, bringing a hand to my face. The warmth lingers, tingling beneath my fingertips. Something feels different.


    I turn toward a nearby mirror, my breath hitching as I catch my reflection.


    My left eye¡ª


    It¡¯s red.


    Glowing, pulsating with an eerie crimson hue, swirling with a faint, arcane pattern.


    My heart skips a beat. My jaw drops.


    "SHARINGAN!"


    I nearly jump back, pointing at my own face like an idiot.


    Zareth just stares at me, utterly unamused. "Eh?"


    I spin around to face him, excitement buzzing through my veins. "What does this do? Isn¡¯t this, like, an OP item or something?! Am I about to unlock some crazy eye powers? Can I predict attacks now? Copy skills?! Mind control?"


    Zareth squints at me like I just grew a second head. "...What the hell are you yapping about?"


    Zareth crosses his arms, watching my overreaction with mild amusement. "The only thing that eye can do is see through lies, improve your night vision, and enhance your ability to track enemy movements."


    I blink, the initial excitement fading slightly. "Oh."


    Well, that¡¯s¡­ less overpowered than I expected. No time manipulation, no copying skills, no mind control? Still, it¡¯s not bad.


    I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "I guess that¡¯s more useful than the skill you gave me¡­" I glance at him and force a smirk. "Thanks, I guess."


    Zareth raises an eyebrow. "You''re welcome, I guess," he mimics, clearly unimpressed.


    I roll my eyes. "Hey, don¡¯t get me wrong, this is cool and all, but I was expecting something more... I don¡¯t know, world-breaking? Maybe a reality-warping eye or some insane magic amplification?*"


    He scoffs. "Be grateful, human. You wouldn¡¯t even last a second with power like that."


    I grumble under my breath, turning back to the mirror, still mesmerized by the eerie glow of my new eye. Maybe it¡¯s not game-breaking, but something tells me this is going to come in handy.


    Without warning, a portal bursts open beside us, swirling with dark energy. The sheer force of it sends a chill down my spine, and before I can stop myself¡ª


    Thud.


    I land on my ass.


    Zareth glances down at me, his expression unreadable. Then, with a smirk, he tilts his head. "Scared?"


    I scowl, quickly scrambling to my feet, brushing the dust off my clothes. "Tch. No. Just¡ª I wasn¡¯t expecting a damn void to rip open next to me!"


    He lets out a low chuckle before turning toward the swirling abyss. "Relax. It¡¯s just my storage." He gestures for me to follow. "Come."


    I hesitate, staring at the portal. The swirling mass of darkness looks anything but safe. My gut tells me this is the kind of thing you step into and never come back from.


    I take a deep breath. Screw it. If he wanted me dead, he had plenty of chances already.


    Steeling myself, I step forward.


    "AHHH! MY EYES!!"


    The moment I step through the portal, a blinding light assaults my vision. I stumble forward, arms flailing as I desperately cover my face.


    "Why the hell is your storage so bright?!" I groan, squinting through my fingers. "I thought this was supposed to be some dark, ominous void or something!"


    Zareth tilts his head, looking completely unfazed. "Is it?"


    I peek through my hands, my vision slowly adjusting. Instead of the shadowy abyss I expected, I find myself standing in an enormous, gleaming white space¡ªlike some kind of divine vault.


    "What the¡ªwhy does this look like a damn angel¡¯s treasury?!"


    Zareth just shrugs. "I like to keep things organized."


    "Now, look around and see if anything catches your eye¡­ only weapons," Zareth says, his tone firm.


    I glance at him, then take in my surroundings. Weapons of all kinds line the walls¡ªswords, spears, axes, daggers, bows¡ªeach one radiating a distinct presence. Some are neatly displayed on racks, while others float mid-air, pulsating with energy.


    "Any weapon, huh?" A grin creeps onto my face.


    I step forward, hands brushing over the hilts and handles as I walk past them, trying to decide. A sword? Classic. Daggers? Fast and deadly. A bow? Long-range might be useful. A spear? Good reach.


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    I stop in front of a rack, tapping my chin. What kind of fighter do I even want to be?


    "Wait, what am I even thinking about?" I shake my head, scoffing at myself. "I should definitely just pick the coolest one!"


    Zareth sighs, arms crossed. "Can you just pick faster? I don¡¯t have all day."


    I shoot him a glare. "Hey, this is a big decision! You can¡¯t just rush the process of choosing my ultimate weapon."


    He tilts his head. "Oh? So you plan on actually surviving long enough to make use of it?"


    I roll my eyes and turn back to the racks. "Yeah, yeah, keep talking, demon lord. We¡¯ll see who¡¯s laughing when I find the perfect weapon and kick your ass with it."


    I scan the endless selection of weapons, eyes darting from one masterpiece to the next. Some of them glow with eerie energy, others hum with restrained power.


    Then, something catches my eye.


    Resting on a stand at the far end of the room is a weapon unlike the others. A long, sleek black blade with jagged crimson veins running along its surface. It pulses¡ªalmost like it¡¯s alive.


    I take a step closer, feeling an odd pull toward it. My fingers itch to reach out. "Now this looks badass."


    Zareth hums behind me. "Oh? That one, huh?"


    I pause, narrowing my eyes at him. "What? Is there something wrong with it?"


    He chuckles. "Not wrong, just¡­ interesting. That blade was once wielded by a warrior who slaughtered thousands. A cursed weapon, bound to its wielder¡¯s soul. If you pick it, there''s no going back."


    I stare at the blade, heart pounding. Bound to my soul, huh?


    I smirk and grab the hilt. "Sounds perfect."


    The moment my fingers wrap around it, a shock runs through my arm, a deep, guttural whisper echoing in my mind.


    Found you.


    "Heh¡­ Found me? Nah, I found you!" I grin, tightening my grip on the hilt.


    With all my strength, I try to lift the blade¡ª


    ¡­But it doesn¡¯t budge.


    "Huh?" I blink in confusion, then pull harder. Nothing.


    "COME ON!" I plant my feet firmly and try again, veins popping out from my arms. Still, the damn thing won¡¯t move.


    Frustrated, I adjust my grip for one final attempt, but my sweaty hands betray me. The sword slips from my grasp¡ª


    CRASH!


    The sound of shattering ceramic fills the room. I slowly turn my head to see the remains of a once-beautiful vase scattered across the pristine white floor.


    "Uh¡­ was that important?" I ask, already knowing the answer.


    Zareth lets out the longest, most exhausted sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose.


    "Really? Really?" He rubs his temples. "Are all humans this stupid?"


    I shrug. "Hey, in my defense, that thing was way heavier than it looked."


    Zareth mutters something under his breath, probably debating whether killing me now would save him future headaches.


    "Use your fucking eye, moron!" Zareth groans, pointing at me like I¡¯m the dumbest creature he¡¯s ever seen.


    I blink. "My eye? How?"


    "YOUR LEFT EYE! The red one! HOLY¡ª" He cuts himself off, exhaling sharply like he''s trying to keep himself from strangling me.


    I pause, processing his words before realization finally clicks. Oh.


    Lifting my left hand, I cover my right eye and focus through my newly acquired demon eye. Immediately, the world shifts. The sword in front of me is no longer just a weapon¡ªit¡¯s alive. I can see faint, glowing threads of energy wrapped around it, binding it to the ground like invisible chains.


    "So that''s why I couldn¡¯t lift it¡­" I mutter.


    Zareth crosses his arms. "Took you long enough."


    I smirk, cracking my knuckles. "Alright then, time for round two."


    This time, I see where to apply force. I grip the hilt, channeling my strength into the gaps between the bindings. The chains resist, but I push through, feeling them strain and crack¡ª


    Then, with a final surge of effort¡ª


    SHINK!


    The sword lifts.


    A pulse of dark energy surges through my arm as the weapon fully detaches from the ground. My heart pounds. The blade is warm in my grip, almost like it''s¡­ breathing.


    Zareth watches, intrigued. "Huh. So you¡¯re not completely useless after all."


    I hold up the sword, admiring its wicked design. "Damn right. Now¡­ what¡¯s it called?"


    The moment I ask, a whisper echoes in my mind.


    "Nyxrend."


    I lift the sword, admiring its sleek, menacing design. "Now this is badass."


    I give it a small swing, feeling the weight, the balance¡ªyeah, this thing is dangerous.


    Excited, I shift my foot slightly¡ª


    WHOOSH¡ª


    I immediately slip.


    "SHIT¡ª!"


    Before I can process what¡¯s happening, the blade slices clean through a hanging piece of cloth behind me. The severed fabric flutters to the ground, cut so smoothly it looks like it was done with a laser.


    Zareth just stares at me. Long. Silently. Judging.


    I slowly straighten myself, gripping the sword with both hands as if that was totally intentional. "Uh¡­ yeah. Precision? On point."


    Zareth drags a hand down his face. "Why did I waste a perfectly good eye on you¡­"


    "Anyway." Zareth claps his hands together¡ª


    And suddenly, the world around me shifts.


    The floor beneath my feet vanishes, replaced by solid black stone. The air is thick, almost heavy, and the sky above is a swirling mass of dark clouds. Jagged mountains stretch into the distance, and eerie torches flicker with blue flames, casting ghostly shadows across the field.


    Zareth''s voice booms across the space.


    "Welcome to my training ground!"


    His words echo, bouncing off the massive obsidian walls.


    I take a slow spin, looking around. "Cool! Cool!" I nod approvingly. "Very evil overlord aesthetic. But¡­ uh¡­" I glance around again. "Isn¡¯t there supposed to be, like¡­ training equipment?"


    Zareth lets out a low chuckle. "You don¡¯t need equipment."


    Something rumbles beneath me.


    I freeze. "Uh¡ª?"


    Then, the ground explodes.


    A massive clawed hand bursts out, followed by a second. The earth cracks and crumbles as a monstrous figure rises¡ªa hulking beast with molten veins glowing beneath its obsidian-black skin. Its eyes, burning with crimson light, lock onto me with pure bloodlust.


    "That¡ª" Zareth points lazily at the creature. "¡ªis your training equipment."


    I gulp. "...Can I get a refund?"


    "Don''t worry, he''s weaker. Just get a feel for your weapon," Zareth says, his tone casual, as if I didn''t just get thrown into a death match.


    "A feel, huh? Bet." I crack my neck and tighten my grip on the sword.


    I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and¡ª just like in the anime¡ª I dash!


    The wind rushes past me, my body moving faster than I expected. The world blurs for a split second before I open my eyes, heart pounding.


    "Woah, I actually dashed." A grin tugs at my lips. "This is sick!"


    Then¡ª


    SWING.


    A massive, clawed arm comes out of nowhere, faster than I can react.


    "Shi¡ª!"


    BOOM!


    The impact sends me flying. My body crashes into the wall with a force that shakes the entire arena, knocking the breath out of my lungs.


    I slump to the ground, groaning. "Okay¡ªow." My ribs definitely feel bruised, if not cracked.


    Zareth lets out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. "You dashed. Congrats. Too bad you forgot to dodge."


    I cough, pushing myself up onto shaky legs. "Noted."


    The monster snarls, molten veins pulsing as it turns toward me again. Its crimson eyes gleam with a hunger that tells me one thing¡ªit¡¯s not done yet.


    I tighten my grip on the sword, my left eye glowing faintly as I focus.


    "Alright¡­ round two."


    "This time, I''ll make use of my eye!" I declare, shutting my right eye to focus entirely on my left.


    I take off, sprinting toward the monster.


    Through my enhanced vision, I see it¡ªits muscles tensing, the telltale shift in its weight. It''s gonna slam down!


    I react instantly, sidestepping to the right just as its massive fist crashes into the ground, sending debris flying. Dust clouds my vision, but I don¡¯t hesitate¡ªI grip my sword tightly and swing with all my strength.


    CLANK!


    The impact reverberates up my arms, making them go numb.


    Shit. My eyes widen. "It''s harder to slice than I thought."


    The monster barely flinches, its thick, stone-like skin barely scratched. It growls, shifting its focus entirely onto me.


    Zareth scoffs from a distance. "Yeah, no shit. Maybe try aiming instead of just swinging like an idiot?"


    I grit my teeth. "Not helping!"


    The monster roars and raises its arm for another attack. I barely have time to react¡ªbut this time, I''m ready.


    "A slam again?" I mutter under my breath, watching the monster¡¯s hulking arm rise into the air. Its grotesque muscles bulge, veins pulsating as it prepares to bring down its massive fist.


    I don¡¯t move yet.


    Wait for it¡­


    The air grows thick with tension. Dust swirls around my feet as the ground trembles beneath me. I tighten my grip on the sword, feeling the weight of it in my hands.


    Wait for the impact. Time the jump.


    SLAM!


    The force of the impact nearly throws me off balance, but I use the shockwave to my advantage. As the earth cracks beneath its fist, I launch myself into the air, propelling forward onto its massive arm.


    Don¡¯t stop moving.


    I sprint up the beast¡¯s arm, my feet barely finding grip on its rough, stone-like skin. The vibrations from its muscles twitching threaten to throw me off, but I push forward, focusing entirely on my footing.


    And then¡ªI see it.


    An opening.


    A vulnerable spot just below its thick, plated neck¡ªwhere the flesh looks softer, more exposed.


    Now¡¯s my chance!


    I grit my teeth and tighten my grip on the sword.


    Swing.


    SLASH!


    A strange sound fills the air¡ª


    "Zzzzzttt!"


    A crackling sensation rushes through my blade, and suddenly, everything feels different. My arms tingle with an unfamiliar energy. The moment my sword slices through its flesh, it doesn¡¯t just leave a scratch¡ªit cuts through far deeper than I expected.


    I land on the ground with a hard roll, panting. My arms tremble, my hands still gripping the hilt of my sword tightly. My breaths come in ragged gasps.


    I look up¡ªmy enhanced eye sharpens the details. The wound on the monster¡¯s neck isn¡¯t just a gash. It¡¯s deep. Far deeper than before. My sword shouldn¡¯t have been able to do that.


    I stare at my own hands, my chest rising and falling rapidly. "What the hell?" I whisper. "Why was that so much stronger?"


    Zareth chuckles from a distance, folding his arms across his chest. "Oh? Looks like you¡¯re finally waking up."


    My gaze snaps to him. "Waking up?" My voice is laced with suspicion. "What did you do?"


    He smirks, his crimson eyes gleaming behind his helmet. "Nothing. That¡¯s all you, kid."


    I clench my fists. My mind races. Did something change? My grip feels tighter, my stance lighter. It¡¯s like my body is adjusting¡ªadapting.


    Then it hits me.


    My eye.


    I blink, focusing on my left eye, the one Zareth had given me. It hums with an odd sensation, as if it¡¯s burning, seeing more than it should.


    I stare at the monster¡¯s wound, then at my sword. Did I just¡­ predict the perfect strike?


    Zareth''s grin widens. "Figure it out yet?" He tilts his head mockingly. "That eye isn¡¯t just for decoration, dumbass."


    "Now, your final quest before I send you to the human world," Zareth announces, his voice calm yet firm.


    I blink. Wait, what? "Sorry¡ªwhat? You''re already sending me to the human world?" I stare at him in disbelief. "Aren¡¯t I supposed to be your warrior? You literally dragged me into this mess!"


    "Well, yeah," he shrugs, leaning against his massive sword. "But here¡¯s the thing¡­ being the 14th Demon Lord¡ª" he clears his throat, "ahem the weakest Demon Lord¡ª I don¡¯t exactly have much more to teach you."


    I narrow my eyes. "So, what, you''re just throwing me out? Sending me off like some failed experiment?"


    Zareth chuckles. "Not exactly. The human world is where the real fights happen. And honestly, you¡¯ll learn more there than you ever could under me. Plus," he waves a hand dismissively, "if you¡¯re lucky, you might even receive a Divine Blessing."


    That makes me pause. "Divine Blessing?" I repeat, furrowing my brows. "Wait¡ªhold on. Wouldn¡¯t a god sense that you summoned me? Wouldn''t they¡ªoh, I don¡¯t know¡ªsmite me on sight?"


    "Nah¡­" Zareth waves off my concerns like they¡¯re nothing. "Gods are arrogant. They only pay attention to people they personally deem important. You''re not on their radar yet."


    I cross my arms. "Gee, thanks. That¡¯s reassuring."


    A heavy thud shakes the ground as something drops from above. Dust scatters, and I instinctively step back, gripping my sword.


    Standing before me is a towering creature¡ªhalf-man, half-horse. Its elongated limbs stretch unnaturally, its powerful, sinewy muscles shifting beneath its dark, almost ethereal skin. A twisted grin spreads across its equine face, sharp fangs glinting in the dim light.


    "A¡­ Tikbalang?" I mutter, my grip tightening.


    "Ah, so you do know your myths," Zareth smirks. "A demon beast from your world, known for tricking travelers and leading them astray. They¡¯re fast, ridiculously strong, and damn hard to kill."


    I swallow hard. In Philippine folklore, Tikbalangs are said to lurk in dense forests and mountain trails, playing cruel tricks on humans, sometimes even driving them insane. Their speed is almost supernatural, and some tales claim they can become invisible or warp reality around them.


    And now, one of those monsters is staring me down.


    "Your final quest," Zareth announces, stepping back as if this is nothing to him, "is to survive against this."


    The Tikbalang lets out a chilling, distorted neigh, its glowing eyes locking onto mine. My heart pounds.


    "...Oh, shit."


    The Tikbalang tilts its head, letting out a guttural, distorted chuckle. Its long, clawed fingers twirl two curved daggers¡ªeach blade gleaming under the dim light. The creature''s hooves clack against the stone floor as it slowly circles me, exuding an eerie confidence.


    "Daggers? Oh, come on," I mutter, forcing a grin despite the tension tightening my chest. "Why does a monster like that need weapons?"


    "Because I enjoy the hunt," the Tikbalang hisses in a raspy, almost human voice.


    The moment it speaks, my instincts scream at me¡ªmove.


    A blur.


    I barely see it shift before my body reacts on its own. My feet push off, dodging just as a dagger slices through the air where my throat was a second ago.


    Fast.


    I hit the ground and roll, feeling my heartbeat hammering in my ears. The Tikbalang lands gracefully where I stood, its red eyes glowing like embers. It flicks the blade, sending a thin line of blood splattering against the floor.


    Wait¡ªblood?


    I glance down. A thin cut burns along my cheek.


    Shit.


    "You dodged the kill shot," Zareth comments from the sidelines. "Good. But it won¡¯t miss twice."


    The Tikbalang lunges again¡ªthis time, from my blind spot.


    My left eye flares to life.


    Everything slows down¡ªnot to a crawl, but just enough for me to process it. I see the shift in its muscles, the flicker of movement from its dagger-hand.


    It¡¯s aiming for my ribs.


    I pivot. The blade grazes my side instead of skewering me, but before I can counterattack, the other dagger comes sweeping in from below.


    I twist mid-air¡ªtoo late.


    Slash!


    Pain burns across my arm as the second dagger carves through flesh. I grit my teeth, hitting the ground hard. The impact sends a jolt through my back, knocking the breath out of me.


    "Not bad," the Tikbalang muses, licking the blood off its blade. "Your eye gives you an advantage... but your body is too slow to keep up."


    My fingers curl tighter around my sword. I exhale, forcing my racing heart to steady.


    "You talk a lot for a glorified horse," I taunt, rising to my feet. Blood drips down my arm, but I ignore it. "Let¡¯s see if you can back it up."


    The Tikbalang grins. "Gladly."


    It vanishes again.


    No¡ªnot vanishes, just too fast for my normal vision to track.


    But my left eye catches it.


    There¡ªbehind me!


    I spin around, raising my sword just in time.


    Clang!


    Sparks fly as our weapons clash. The impact rattles my arms, but I don¡¯t let up. I push forward, twisting my blade to break the lock.


    The Tikbalang doesn¡¯t retreat. Instead, it uses the force to spin mid-air, bringing its second dagger toward my neck in a reverse grip.


    I duck.


    The blade barely misses. But before I can capitalize on the opening, the Tikbalang kicks off the ground and flips over me, landing behind my back.


    My stomach drops.


    I react on instinct¡ªdive forward!


    A dagger whistles past my shoulder, missing by inches.


    I hit the ground and roll, barely avoiding another strike as the Tikbalang comes at me like a relentless storm.


    It¡¯s too fast. I¡¯m reading its movements, seeing the openings, but my body isn¡¯t fast enough to counter.


    Dodge. Duck. Block. Roll.


    I¡¯m managing to keep up¡ªbut only barely.


    My breathing turns ragged. My body aches from the cuts and near-misses. The Tikbalang, meanwhile, looks completely unfazed, as if this is just another game.


    Zareth sighs. "If this is all you¡¯ve got, I might as well start digging your grave."


    I grit my teeth. "Shut up."


    There has to be a way.


    I scan the battlefield. There¡¯s nothing to use¡ªno terrain advantage, no distractions. Just me, my sword, and this speedster with knives.


    Think.


    The Tikbalang dashes in for another attack.


    I see it. Left side.


    I pivot¡ªbut this time, instead of dodging, I take a gamble.


    I swing my sword before the Tikbalang even reaches me.


    It¡¯s reckless. It¡¯s risky. If I miss, I¡¯m dead.


    But¡ª


    CLANG!


    My blade meets one of its daggers mid-strike, deflecting it just enough for me to shove forward.


    The Tikbalang stumbles back, caught off guard.


    Got you.


    I press the advantage, slashing toward its chest¡ª


    Too slow.


    It catches my sword mid-swing.


    My eyes widen.


    "Predictable," it sneers.


    With monstrous strength, it twists my sword away and drives a knee into my stomach.


    Pain explodes in my gut. My vision flashes white.


    I crash to the ground, coughing up air.


    The Tikbalang looms over me, spinning its daggers. "That was clever. But not enough."


    I wheeze, forcing myself to move. "Screw you¡ª"


    A dagger thrusts down toward my chest.


    Last-second reaction¡ª I yank my sword up, deflecting the blade just enough for it to graze my side instead of piercing my heart.


    But my body is spent.


    I can¡¯t move fast enough. I can¡¯t keep dodging forever.


    The Tikbalang knows it, too.


    "This is over," it whispers, raising its second dagger for the killing blow.


    I watch it, my vision blurring.


    Is this it? Is this where I die?


    No.


    I refuse.


    I won''t go down like this.


    I focus everything into my left eye.


    For a split second¡ªeverything sharpens.


    I see every single movement of the Tikbalang¡¯s body¡ªthe tension in its muscles, the subtle flicker in its stance.


    I see it.


    A tiny opening.


    A split-second chance.


    The moment the dagger plunges down¡ª


    I roll, twist my sword upward, and stab forward.


    A sharp, wet piercing sound.


    Silence.


    The Tikbalang freezes.


    My blade is buried deep in its side.


    For the first time, its expression falters.


    "You¡ª" it gasps.


    I grit my teeth and shove the sword in deeper.


    Blood drips from its mouth as it staggers back, clutching the wound.


    "You¡­ actually¡­" The Tikbalang exhales sharply. Then, to my shock¡ª


    It grins.


    Zareth claps slowly. "Not bad. Looks like you''re not completely useless."


    I fall back onto the ground, gasping for breath. My entire body feels like it''s on fire.


    The Tikbalang chuckles weakly, still gripping its wound. "Heh¡­ Not bad, human. Not bad at all."


    I glare at Zareth. "I hate you."


    He just smirks. "Welcome to the real fight, kid."


    "Yeah, well¡ª"


    Heal.


    "A¡ªfuck, I died again."


    I groan as I sit up, the pain from my wounds vanishing instantly. It''s my third death in this stupid training session. Every time I get stabbed, crushed, or knocked out, Zareth just waves a hand and yanks me back to life like it''s some casual game respawn.


    Zareth sighs, rubbing his temples. "Listen, Elric ¡®Eli¡¯ Dela Cruz. Out there, I won¡¯t be able to bring you back to life, so you better not die."


    "Yeah, yeah, I got it." I wave him off, still catching my breath. "No dying. Big deal. Like I have a choice¡ª"


    He glares at me. "You think this is a joke?"


    I freeze.


    The air suddenly feels heavier.


    Zareth walks over, his towering presence making me instinctively tense up. For the first time since I met him, there''s no amusement in his crimson eyes¡ªonly cold, sharp intensity.


    "You think you can afford to be careless?" His voice is quieter, but heavier. "The human world isn¡¯t some playground where you get infinite retries. You die once¡ªjust once¡ªand that¡¯s it. No second chances. No retries. You¡¯re gone."


    I swallow hard.


    I want to crack a joke¡ªsomething to lighten the mood. But his stare pins me down, forcing me to actually listen.


    "You¡¯ve been fighting monsters that I¡¯ve weakened for you." Zareth continues, his tone cutting like a blade. "But in the real world? No safety nets. No ¡®Heal¡¯ after you die. If you hesitate¡ªif you slack off for even a second¡ªyou¡¯ll be nothing more than another corpse rotting on a battlefield."


    The weight of his words settles in my chest like a stone.


    For the first time, the reality of my situation truly hits me.


    This isn''t a game. This isn''t some anime fantasy where the hero always survives because of plot armor.


    If I die¡­ that¡¯s it.


    No respawn. No coming back.


    I exhale, my grip tightening around my sword.


    "Alright," I say, my voice steady. "Then let¡¯s go again."


    Zareth raises an eyebrow. "You sure? Another death might¡ª"


    "I said, let¡¯s go again." I meet his gaze, my stance firm. "If I only have one life, then I better make damn sure I¡¯m strong enough to keep it."


    For a second, he studies me. Then, finally¡ªhe smirks.


    "Now that¡¯s more like it."


    He snaps his fingers.


    Another monster drops down.


    This time? No holding back.

 Chapter 3: Porky

    "Well done, you''re improving fast," Zareth mutters, arms crossed as he towers over me. His usual smug demeanor lingers, but there¡¯s something¡­ different this time. "Now, I guess it''s time."


    I wipe the sweat from my forehead, letting out a tired but proud laugh. "Aw... You''re gonna make me cry, hehe." I try to play it off, but the weight of those words hits harder than I expected.


    Zareth shakes his head, crimson eyes gleaming behind his helmet. "Save the drama, human. You¡¯ll need that emotional energy just to stay alive out there."


    I swallow hard. "Time for what?"


    "Time for you to leave." His voice drops into something colder, final. "You¡¯re ready."


    "Already?" The word slips out before I can stop it. "I mean¡­ not that I¡¯m complaining, but I figured you¡¯d keep beating me senseless for at least another week."


    Zareth chuckles, a low, dangerous sound. "You think I enjoy wasting my time? You¡¯ve learned enough. But¡ªbefore you go, one last gift."


    He steps closer, placing his hand on my forehead. Suddenly, it feels like ice is seeping into my skull. My eyes widen as strange symbols flash behind my eyelids¡ªwords I don¡¯t recognize but somehow understand.


    "There," Zareth says, pulling his hand away. "A translation skill. You¡¯ll need it to understand those pathetic humans."


    I blink a few times, shaking off the cold sensation. "You¡¯re kidding me? You couldn¡¯t have given me that before all the training?"


    Zareth smirks. "Where¡¯s the fun in that?"


    Before I can retort, the air shifts. A dark portal opens, swirling shadows pulling at my feet.


    "Wait, wait¡ªone more thing." Zareth raises his hand again, and with a loud pop, something thuds onto the ground beside me.


    I look down and¡­ "What the hell is that?"


    It snorts loudly, staring at me with beady, soulless eyes. A massive, chubby creature¡ªcovered in coarse hair, drooling from its oversized mouth.


    "A¡­ pig? You¡¯re sending me into a dangerous world with this?"


    Zareth snorts. "That¡¯s no pig, human. It¡¯s a battle boar. Tough as stone, faster than it looks."


    I squint at it. "That thing looks like it just lost a fight with a buffet table."


    The boar snorts angrily, stomping one foot¡ªand the ground cracks beneath it.


    "Yeah, okay, maybe it¡¯s not just a fat pig," I mutter, taking a cautious step back.


    Zareth, clearly amused, waves his hand. "Enough stalling. Time to go."


    The portal hums louder now, shadows reaching out like claws.


    I take a deep breath and glance back at him one last time. "Guess this is it, huh?"


    "For now." His voice softens just a bit. "Remember, Elric Dela Cruz¡ªdon¡¯t die. You¡¯re my investment now."


    I nod, gripping the boar¡¯s coarse hair like reins. "Alright, bacon buddy. Let¡¯s not die."


    And just like that, the portal pulls us in¡ªme, my sword, and my angry, oversized not-pig.


    Great start already, I think as the world around me dissolves into shadows.


    The light is blinding. One second, I¡¯m surrounded by shadows and cold, and the next¡ªBAM¡ªit feels like someone just shoved the sun directly into my eyeballs.


    Everything shifts so fast that my stomach lurches. Darkness twists into blinding white, and then¡ªthud¡ªI hit solid ground.


    Grass? Dirt? Leaves?


    I blink rapidly, trying to adjust as my vision clears. Trees. Leaves. Birds chirping far too cheerfully for my liking.


    And then it hits me.


    "WHY AM I IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WOODS?!?!?!?!?!?!"


    My voice echoes through the trees, scaring off a couple of birds that screech and fly away like I just disturbed their morning yoga session.


    "Oink?"


    I whip around to find it¡ªmy so-called mighty companion.


    "You!" I point accusingly at the beast Zareth so kindly sent with me. "You¡¯re supposed to be my guide or protector or something, right?"


    The boar just stares at me, snorting lazily like it doesn¡¯t have a care in the world. It plops down on the grass like we¡¯re not clearly lost in the middle of nowhere.


    "Seriously?" I run my hands through my messy hair, glancing around the dense forest. "No signs, no map, no friendly tutorial NPC? Just trees, twigs, and you?"


    The boar gives me another unimpressed oink and starts chewing on a patch of grass.


    "Oh, great," I mutter, looking up at the sky through the canopy of leaves. "Thanks a lot, Zareth. This is exactly how I pictured my grand adventure starting¡ªlost, confused, and babysitting a glorified ham sandwich."


    The boar snorts aggressively and headbutts my leg.


    "Ow! Okay, okay, you''re not just a snack with legs, I get it!" I back off, hands raised in surrender. "But seriously, where the hell are we?"


    The forest stretches endlessly in every direction. No trails. No smoke from a distant village. Just me, a sword, and this overgrown bacon factory.


    "Alright," I sigh, gripping the hilt of my sword for comfort. "Let¡¯s think this through. Step one¡ªdon¡¯t die. Step two¡ªfind civilization. Step three¡ªfigure out if I just got dumped in some discount fantasy survival game."


    The boar looks at me with an almost judgmental squint.


    "Don¡¯t give me that look. You¡¯re not helping."


    It grunts, snorts, and starts waddling off into the trees.


    "Wait, where are you going?"


    It pauses, glances back, and lets out a loud oink¡ªas if saying, "Are you coming or what, genius?"


    "Oh," I blink. "You actually know where you¡¯re going?"


    Another oink, this one more impatient.


    "Alright, alright, lead the way, bacon buddy. But if we run into something deadly, you¡¯re taking the first hit."


    The boar snorts again and keeps waddling forward.


    Fantastic, I think, trudging after it. My fate¡¯s in the hooves of an angry meatball.


    "Hey, where are we going? We''ve been walking forever! At least let me ride on your back..." My voice comes out strained as I trudge behind the boar, sweat dripping down my face. My legs feel like jelly, and every step feels like punishment.


    The boar grunts and keeps waddling forward like it doesn¡¯t have a care in the world. I glare at it. "You¡¯re literally built like a walking couch. Let me ride you just once. I¡¯m dying here!"


    It suddenly stops.


    I stumble forward, nearly falling flat on my face. "Oink?"


    I squint at the beast. "What now? Why¡¯d you stop?"


    The boar doesn¡¯t answer¡ªobviously¡ªbut instead snorts and nudges its snout toward something up ahead. I shove aside the thick bushes blocking the path, and my breath catches in my throat.


    A wide, open field stretches before me, bathed in soft sunlight that cuts through the scattered clouds above. The grass sways lazily with the wind, but what really grabs my attention is the sight beyond the field¡ªa village. Small houses with smoke curling from chimneys, the faint sound of chatter in the distance, and... people. Real, actual humans.


    I stumble out of the bush, my heart racing. "No way¡­ Humans... Finally!"


    The boar oinks again, but I barely notice. Relief floods through me like a tidal wave, and my knees almost give out. After all the insanity¡ªZareth¡¯s brutal training, dying over and over again, fighting that nightmare of a tikbalang¡ªI finally found a sign of civilization.


    Now, all I have to do is figure out how not to look like a total maniac when I walk into town...


    Everyone''s style is totally different from what I''m used to¡­ or maybe this village just isn¡¯t well off.


    I glance around, taking in the worn clothes, patched fabrics, and weathered faces of the villagers. The buildings look old but sturdy, made from stone and wood, with signs of age in every creak and crack. This isn¡¯t the kind of fantasy village I pictured¡ªit¡¯s real, gritty, and struggling.


    Whispers.


    "Who''s that guy... What happened to his clothes?"


    "Kids, stay away from him¡­ and that thing with him."


    I glance down at my boar companion, who oinks indignantly, clearly catching the shade being thrown. Rude, I think, patting its back as if to say, You''re fine, buddy.


    Before I can even think of what to say or do, an elderly man steps forward. His posture is straight, but his face carries years of hardship, deep lines carved into his skin like a map of everything he''s endured. His eyes, sharp and calculating, scan me like he¡¯s trying to read every secret I might be hiding.


    "Who are you?" His voice is firm, no-nonsense. "And what are you doing in our village?"


    I freeze under his stare. Crap, just play it cool.


    "Uh¡­ My name¡¯s Eli. I¡¯m kinda lost and¡ªhonestly¡ªjust need a place to stay for a bit." I try to sound confident, polite, normal. Normal, even though I definitely look like I just crawled out of a demon¡¯s personal training ground¡­ which, technically, I did.


    The old man¡¯s eyes narrow. His gaze sharpens, like a blade pressing against my neck without ever touching me.


    "We¡¯re happy to help those in need," he says slowly. "But if you¡¯re going to reek of demonic presence everywhere you go¡­ I¡¯ll have no choice but to kick you¡ªand that creature¡ªout of my village."


    Demonic presence? My stomach flips. Shit, Zareth didn¡¯t mention anything about me smelling like a walking demon beacon!


    I swallow hard and raise my hands in surrender. "Wait¡ªhold on! I didn¡¯t even know I reeked of anything. I swear, I¡¯m not here to cause trouble. I just¡­ need help. Please."


    The boar oinks like it''s backing me up, though it sounds more like Feed me, than Help my friend.


    The old man stares at me for what feels like forever before letting out a sigh. "You have one night. Prove you¡¯re not a threat¡ªor we¡¯ll handle it ourselves."


    One night, huh? No pressure...


    I stare at the boar, hands on my hips, trying to process the fact that I¡¯m apparently getting life advice from a glorified walking ham sandwich.


    "How are we gonna do this? How do we prove ourselves?" I mutter, already feeling the weight of the villagers¡¯ glares drilling into my back.


    It oinks. Just¡­ oinks. But somehow, somehow, it feels like there¡¯s actual meaning behind it. Like it''s trying to say, Help the village with their struggles, oink.


    I squint at it. ¡°Are you serious right now? You¡¯re suggesting we just¡­ help out? That¡¯s your genius plan?¡±


    It oinks again, louder this time.


    I sigh and rub the back of my neck. ¡°Alright, fine. Fine. You better not just be hungry and trying to get free food out of this.¡±


    Taking a deep breath, I glance around the village square. People still watch from a distance¡ªwhispering, pointing, and keeping their kids behind them like I¡¯m some wild animal. Okay, Eli, think. What does every struggling fantasy village need?


    Then I spot it¡ªa group of villagers arguing near a broken well. Buckets lie scattered around, and the ground nearby is dry and cracked.


    Water problems. Classic.


    I march over, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. The moment I get close, the conversation cuts off, and they all turn to glare at me like I just volunteered to ruin their day.


    "Uh, hey," I start awkwardly. "You guys having trouble with the well? I¡­ might be able to help."


    One of the men, arms crossed and scowl deep enough to rival a canyon, eyes me suspiciously. "And why would we trust you with that? You¡¯re the one stinking up the whole village with demon magic."


    I raise my hands in surrender. "Look, I¡¯m just trying to help. Give me a shot, and if I screw it up, you can¡­ I dunno, kick me in the face or something. Deal?"


    They exchange glances, muttering between themselves. Finally, the man sighs and steps aside. "Fine. Prove you¡¯re not useless."


    I step closer to the well and peer inside. The rope¡¯s frayed, and the pulley system¡¯s busted. Worse, the well itself is nearly dry¡ªjust a thin trickle of water at the bottom.


    Okay, okay, think. Zareth gave me that eye upgrade. Maybe it can help spot a blockage or something?


    I focus, letting the red glow in my left eye activate. Come on, demon eye, don¡¯t fail me now.


    Suddenly, the well¡¯s interior sharpens in my vision¡ªI can see cracks in the stone, and¡­ there! A blockage deeper down.


    I turn to the skeptical crowd. "There¡¯s a rock jammed near the bottom. If someone lowers me down, I can break it loose."


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The man raises a brow. "You sure?"


    "Positive."


    Time to prove I¡¯m not just dead weight.


    "Hey¡­ let me down slowly, got it?" I say, trying to sound confident as I step onto the bucket. But deep down? Maybe this isn¡¯t a good idea.


    The rope creaks ominously as they lower me down, the bucket swaying slightly with every inch. I grip the sides tight, staring at the cold stone walls closing in around me. The deeper I go, the cooler the air gets, carrying the damp, earthy smell of the well.


    This better be worth it.


    Finally, I see it¡ªthe stupid rock jammed awkwardly in the narrow gap where water should be flowing freely. I brace myself against the walls, reaching out carefully.


    "There you are, you stubborn little¡­ Okay. One¡­ two¡­ three!"


    I grip the rock with all the strength I can muster and pull. At first, it doesn¡¯t budge. My arms strain, every muscle screaming, the rope above groaning like it¡¯s ready to snap.


    Come on! Move already!


    With a sudden lurch, the rock breaks free.


    WHOOSH!


    A rush of water bursts through, splashing against my face. The trickle becomes a stream, then a full-on flow. I blink through the spray, grinning like an idiot.


    "There! Now pull me back up!" I shout, voice echoing up the narrow shaft.


    The rope tugs, and I start rising slowly. Relief washes over me¡ªuntil the bucket jerks suddenly.


    Snap!


    My stomach drops.


    "Uh¡­ guys?!"


    The rope frays¡ªone strand after another snapping¡ªuntil I hear the worst sound imaginable: the final pop of the rope breaking completely.


    Gravity yanks me downward like an angry hand.


    "OH COME ON!"


    I hit the water with a splash, sinking instantly into the icy depths. The cold punches the air out of my lungs, and I flail, kicking toward the surface.


    This is NOT how I go out¡ª


    I break through, gasping for air.


    "Hey! Rope! Ladder! Anything?!" I yell, paddling awkwardly to stay afloat.


    A few tense seconds pass before I see something drop¡ªa makeshift rope made of tied-together clothes and blankets.


    "Grab on, idiot!" someone yells from above.


    "I''M TRYING!"


    I grip the makeshift rope and start climbing, muscles burning with every pull. After what feels like forever, I finally reach the top, collapsing onto the ground, coughing and soaked to the bone.


    I blink up at the crowd of villagers¡­ and the boar.


    It oinks. Mockingly.


    "Yeah, yeah, don¡¯t look so smug, bacon boy."


    The man who doubted me earlier steps forward, arms crossed but¡­ not scowling this time.


    "You actually did it," he says. "Water¡¯s flowing again. Guess you¡¯re not completely useless."


    I sit up, exhausted but grinning. "Told you. Now¡­ someone get me a towel before I freeze to death."


    I slowly push myself off the ground, every muscle screaming in protest. "Ugh... I really need to be careful. It''s not like when I was there¡ªI can''t just be revived anymore."


    The weight of that realization hits me harder than the cold water ever could. One mistake out here, and it''s game over¡ªfor real this time.


    The sun dips lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the village. The sky¡¯s painted in soft oranges and purples, peaceful in a way that feels totally at odds with how wrecked I feel inside.


    I glance at the boar¡ªstill waddling along beside me like some weird, chubby guardian. "I guess we need to find a place to stay," I mutter, patting its side half-heartedly.


    It gives an approving oink¡ªor at least, I think it¡¯s approving. Honestly, I¡¯m too tired to tell.


    We wander through the village, passing wooden houses and curious stares from villagers who were probably convinced I wouldn¡¯t climb out of that well alive. I catch snippets of their whispers¡ªless harsh now, but still wary.


    Just as I start thinking we might have to sleep under a tree, the same elderly man from before steps out of a nearby house. His expression¡¯s softer this time¡ªnot friendly, but less like he wants to toss me back in the well.


    "You did good today," he says gruffly. "You¡¯ll need rest if you¡¯re planning to stay useful."


    I blink. "Wait¡ªare you offering us a place to stay?"


    He grunts. "One night. No trouble. After that, you¡¯re on your own again."


    Relief floods through me. "Thank you. Seriously."


    He eyes the boar suspiciously. "And¡­ that thing stays outside."


    I glance down at my weird, oinking companion. "Sorry, buddy. Looks like you¡¯re camping under the stars tonight."


    The boar just oinks again¡ªthis time with what feels like pure betrayal.


    I head inside, finally ready for some much-needed rest. The warmth of the fire and the simple bedroll on the floor feel like heaven compared to what I was expecting.


    As I lie down, my body finally relaxing, one thought echoes in my mind:


    Tomorrow¡¯s another fight.


    But for now?


    I survive.


    I wake up to the sound of people talking outside¡ªloud, overlapping voices that pierce through the early morning stillness.


    "Why are they so loud?" I groan, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I sit up. At least my muscles aren¡¯t screaming at me anymore. Small victories.


    Dragging myself to the window, I peek through the worn wooden frame. A crowd has gathered in the village square, people shifting and murmuring like a restless sea. Why the hell is everyone gathered there this early?


    I stretch, feeling my joints pop in protest. The air outside seems cooler than usual, carrying the scent of dew and earth. Might as well see what''s going on. I grab the door handle, its rough wood cold beneath my fingers, and step outside.


    The scene feels unusually tense for a gathering about food. Villagers clutch empty baskets and sacks, their faces drawn with both hope and exhaustion. The atmosphere is heavy¡ªlike everyone''s expecting something but doesn¡¯t fully trust it.


    I spot a woman standing near the edge of the crowd, her arms crossed as she watches the commotion unfold. I approach cautiously and clear my throat. "Hey, sorry¡ªcan I ask what''s going on?"


    She turns toward me, her eyes tired but not unfriendly. "They''re handing out free food," she says flatly.


    "Free food? Why?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.


    She snorts, shaking her head like she''s heard this question too many times before. "Well, you''d think it''s out of kindness, right? Maybe someone finally decided to help out this struggling village."


    Before I can respond, a loud, boastful voice echoes through the square, cutting through the murmurs like a blade.


    "Remember, good people! Vote Aldric Thornveil for Baron of this land! Enjoy this generous gift of food¡ªbrought to you by your future leader¡¯s boundless kindness!"


    The crowd falls uncomfortably silent for a moment before the usual shuffle and murmur return. The woman next to me sighs, her expression tightening into something bitter. "Yeah... that¡¯s the reason," she mutters. "It''s not charity. It''s just another way to buy loyalty before the next election."


    I glance around at the crowd again¡ªpeople clutching loaves of bread and sacks of grain like lifelines. Guess desperation makes it easy for someone like him to play the hero.


    A sudden rumble echoes through the ground, and before I can react, a carriage beams past behind me¡ªits exterior gleaming gold under the sunlight, polished so thoroughly it nearly blinds me. The wheels cut through the dirt path with an unsettling authority, stopping dead in the center of the square with a sharp, deliberate halt.


    The air shifts instantly. The murmurs turn into frantic movement as the people who had been ahead of me suddenly break into a sprint¡ªpushing and shoving, desperation flashing in their eyes as they rush toward me, or more accurately¡­ past me.


    I barely have time to step aside as the crowd surges forward like a wave. "Whoa! What the hell?" I stumble back, the boar giving an alarmed oink beside me, clearly not a fan of being nearly trampled.


    The villagers aren¡¯t running from something¡ªthey¡¯re running toward the carriage. It¡¯s like they¡¯re magnetized, clawing for whatever false hope that flashy gold symbol promises. Man, is food really this scarce here?


    The carriage door swings open with a slow, theatrical creak. Two armored guards step out first, their polished chest plates reflecting the sunlight like mirrors, followed by a man dressed in velvet robes lined with shimmering gold thread. His posture oozes arrogance, and his smug smile stretches just a little too wide.


    "Citizens of this fine village," the man announces, his voice smooth like oil but twice as greasy. "Remember well the generosity of Aldric Thornveil, your future Baron¡ªand the one true guardian of your prosperity!"


    The crowd cheers weakly, but it¡¯s not excitement¡ªit¡¯s survival.


    I watch silently from the sidelines, gripping the handle of my sword without realizing it. This guy already reeks of trouble.


    "Citizens of this village¡ª" His voice rings out, smooth and dripping with fake charm. But before he can even finish his grand speech, a voice cuts through the air like a blade.


    "IF YOU''RE GONNA TRY TO GAIN A VILLAGE''S TRUST, YOU SHOULD AT LEAST LEARN THE VILLAGE''S NAME!"


    The crowd freezes. It¡¯s like time just stopped, and every head turns toward the source of the outburst. Including mine.


    It¡¯s an older man, rough around the edges with a face carved by years of hardship. His arms are crossed, eyes sharp with defiance¡ªa stark contrast to the fearful expressions around him.


    The guy from the carriage pauses, visibly thrown off for a second. His smile twitches. "Ah¡­ Of course," he says with forced smoothness, trying to recover his composure. "Such passion from the¡­ fine folk of this¡­ humble village." His voice strains to stay charming, but there¡¯s an undertone of irritation now.


    I can''t help but smirk. Guess not everyone''s buying what he''s selling.


    The villagers start murmuring again¡ªthis time, not in desperation but in curiosity. The tension shifts ever so slightly.


    The man''s eye twitches before he quickly redirects, raising his arms dramatically. "Regardless, let this feast be a symbol of my goodwill! May you remember who truly supports you in your times of need!"


    Yeah, real smooth cover-up there, buddy.


    I glance at the old man who shouted¡ªhis jaw is tight, eyes narrowed, but there¡¯s a hint of satisfaction in his expression.


    Okay, I think to myself,


    Before I can even react, someone from behind Aldric moves¡ªfast. A blur cutting through the crowd like a knife through butter, silent and terrifyingly efficient.


    And suddenly¡ªcold steel kisses my throat.


    A dagger.


    My breath catches in my chest. I don¡¯t even have time to process how they got behind me so quickly. The blade presses just enough to remind me that one wrong move means game over.


    "Don''t move if you wanna die¡­ Demon."


    The voice is low, rough, and deadly serious. I catch a glimpse of the guy from the corner of my eye¡ªmiddle-aged, with sharp eyes that scan like a hawk and a soldier¡¯s build. His grip doesn¡¯t shake.


    Wait. Demon?


    The crowd pulls back instinctively, leaving me isolated in a wide, silent circle. Murmurs ripple through the villagers like a spark through dry grass.


    Shit, shit, shit¡ª


    "I-I think you¡¯ve got the wrong guy, man," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.


    The soldier leans in closer. "I can feel it. That cursed aura around you. You think you can hide it?" His voice drops into a dangerous whisper.


    Damn it, Zareth said the demonic presence would be faint!


    Out of the corner of my eye, Aldric watches with interest, that smug grin creeping back onto his face.


    Okay, Eli. Think fast. How the hell are you getting out of this one?


    My heart pounds like a war drum. Okay, Eli. Think. Think.


    "I-It¡¯s not what you think, okay? I¡¯m not here to hurt anyone!" I stammer, trying to raise my hands slowly¡ªbig mistake.


    The dagger presses in deeper, just enough to draw a bead of blood. Shit, that actually stings!


    "Stay still!" The soldier¡¯s voice is like iron slamming shut. His grip tightens. "One wrong move, and I''ll carve that cursed aura right out of you."


    The crowd watches in tense silence, eyes wide with fear¡ªand maybe a little hope that I am some kind of threat.


    I need a way out. Fast.


    Suddenly¡ªOINK!


    The boar. The fat, ridiculous boar that Zareth dumped me with comes charging through the crowd like a bowling ball with legs. It barrels into the soldier with a solid thud, sending both of us sprawling to the ground.


    I hit the dirt hard, rolling just enough to avoid getting crushed. The dagger clatters away.


    "What the¡ª?!" The soldier scrambles to his feet, glaring daggers at the boar.


    "Yeah, that¡¯s right! Get him, uh¡­ Porky!" I shout, though the boar just oinks indignantly at the terrible name.


    I don¡¯t wait for round two. I spring up and grab the dagger off the ground, flipping it in my hand. The soldier lunges forward, but this time¡ªI¡¯m ready.


    I sidestep and slam the hilt of the dagger into his gut. He staggers back, winded.


    "Look, man," I grit out, keeping my stance low and ready, "I don¡¯t want to fight you. I just want to prove I¡¯m not some threat, alright?"


    But the look in his eyes says he¡¯s not convinced.


    Aldric¡¯s smug voice cuts through the chaos. "Enough."


    The crowd parts as Aldric strides forward, hands behind his back, that condescending smile plastered across his face.


    "Let¡¯s not waste such¡­ entertaining potential, shall we?" He gestures lazily toward me. "You want to prove yourself, stranger? Then how about a little trial?"


    The tension thickens around me like fog.


    Great. Just what I needed. Another test.


    But what choice do I have?


    "Fine," I spit out, tightening my grip on the dagger. "Bring it on."


    Aldric¡¯s smirk widens, eyes glinting with amusement¡ªas if he¡¯s already won. "Good. I admire... confidence." His voice drips with smug satisfaction. "Let¡¯s make this simple. You win, and I¡¯ll believe you''re no threat. You lose¡­ well, let¡¯s just say the village won¡¯t have to worry about you anymore."


    The soldier from earlier cracks his knuckles and steps forward, fire burning in his eyes. Of course, it¡¯s him.


    Okay, Eli. You¡¯ve faced worse¡­ No, actually, I haven¡¯t. But hey, no pressure.


    The crowd forms a shaky circle around us. Every eye is locked on me. Some look hopeful, others terrified¡ªmost just want a show.


    The soldier lunges. Fast.


    I barely sidestep in time, his fist grazing my shoulder like a freight train. I stumble but recover quickly, holding the dagger between us like a weak shield.


    I need an opening¡ªanything.


    He charges again. This time, I duck under and jab toward his ribs. The blade connects, but it¡¯s shallow¡ªbarely enough to faze him.


    "You''re slow," he growls.


    "Yeah, well, you smell like old cheese!" Really, Eli? That¡¯s your comeback?


    His fist comes flying toward my face. I twist just in time, feeling the wind of the punch rush past me. I slam my foot into his knee¡ªsolid hit¡ªbut he barely flinches.


    Suddenly¡ªOINK!


    The boar barrels into him from the side, knocking him off balance. I seize the opportunity and dive forward, slamming my shoulder into his chest. We hit the ground hard, and the dagger presses dangerously close to his neck.


    "I don¡¯t want to hurt you!" I snap, breath heavy and heart racing. "But I will fight back."


    For a second, just a heartbeat, the soldier hesitates¡ªthen his expression twists in frustration.


    "Enough," Aldric¡¯s voice cuts through the air again, sharp and cold. "The fight is over."


    I release the soldier and scramble to my feet, panting. My muscles ache, my hands are shaking, but... I¡¯m still standing.


    The crowd is dead silent.


    Aldric steps forward, slow and deliberate, eyes narrowed. "Impressive... For someone who clearly doesn¡¯t belong here."


    The boar shuffles beside me, letting out a soft oink, like a proud sidekick.


    I glare back at Aldric, gripping the dagger tighter. "So? Did I prove myself yet?"


    He smiles¡ªa slow, dangerous thing. "For now. But don¡¯t get comfortable, stranger. The real challenges are yet to come."


    Great. Just what I needed. A noble with a god complex and a village that thinks I¡¯m cursed. Perfect start, Eli. Just perfect.


    I keep my head low, slipping through the narrow gaps between the gathered villagers. Their whispers crawl along my skin like cold fingers.


    "Did you see his eyes? Definitely cursed..."


    "That thing he was with¡ªno normal creature acts like that."


    Yeah, great. Just what I need¡ªmore paranoia.


    The further I get from the square, the quieter it becomes. The houses here look older, worn down by time and neglect. Perfect¡ªless people, fewer eyes on me.


    I glance back¡ªno one¡¯s following. Good.


    Now, I just need to figure out what the hell I¡¯m doing here before someone else tries to stab me.


    The boar trots beside me like an oversized shadow, snorting occasionally like it knows something I don¡¯t.


    "Yeah, yeah, I get it. You saved my butt back there." I sigh and rub the back of my neck. "But if you¡¯re here to babysit me, maybe give me a heads-up next time before I almost get gutted?"


    It just oinks and keeps walking, completely unfazed.


    I finally stop near a rundown well on the village outskirts. No one¡¯s around¡ªjust the wind and the creak of old wood.


    I sit down on a stone, burying my face in my hands. Okay, think, Eli. You¡¯re stuck in human territory, accused of being cursed, and your only ally is a glorified walking ham sandwich. Fantastic.


    "How am I supposed to survive this?" I mutter under my breath.


    The boar nudges my arm gently with its snout.


    "...You¡¯re not so bad, you know that?"


    It snorts like it agrees, then plops down next to me with a heavy thud.


    I glance toward the darkening sky. I need a plan¡ªand fast¡ªbefore things get worse. And knowing my luck, they definitely will.


    I raise my sword, feeling the unfamiliar weight settle into my hand. "I haven''t even used this thing yet¡­ and honestly? I really don''t plan to." I let out a frustrated groan. "Ugh! This sucks!"


    The blade catches a glimmer of the fading sunlight, but instead of looking cool or heroic, I probably just look like a guy completely out of his depth¡ªwhich, let¡¯s be real, I am.


    I glance down at my clothes, grimacing. Torn, dirt-streaked, and practically screaming ¡®Hey, look at me, I just crawled out of a disaster!¡¯


    "Great. Not only do I need new clothes, but I also need to figure out how the hell to scrub off this demonic presence thing before someone else tries to take my head off."


    The boar¡ªyeah, still my only companion¡ªsnorts beside me, like it''s mocking my entire existence.


    "Yeah, yeah, I get it," I mumble, lowering the sword and rubbing my temple. "You¡¯re living your best life while I¡¯m over here looking like I lost a fight with a tornado."


    I sheath the sword with an awkward clink and start trudging back toward the village. Okay, Eli. First, find some clothes that don¡¯t make you look like a villain. Then, figure out this demonic aura situation. Preferably without getting stabbed again.


    The boar follows lazily behind me, each step sounding like it couldn¡¯t care less about my growing to-do list.


    "Y''know, for a creature that''s supposed to help, you''re seriously lacking in motivational speeches."


    It oinks.


    "Yeah, yeah, motivational oinks. Got it."


    Well, for the rest of the night, I managed to "buy" new clothes¡ªdefinitely didn¡¯t steal them. Nope. Not at all.


    The fabric is rough, cheap, and definitely not my style, but hey, beggars can¡¯t be choosers when they¡¯re being hunted for having an unwanted demon vibe. The shirt¡¯s plain, the pants actually fit, and¡ªmost importantly¡ªI don¡¯t look like a walking disaster anymore. Small wins.


    And the demonic presence? Oh, yeah. Handled that too. Genius solution, really. I snuck into the church (very respectfully, of course) and dipped a bandage into some holy water. The result? A makeshift blindfold.


    Tying it around my eyes, I half expected to go full-on blind. But nope. I can still see.


    Must be the demon eye doing its thing.


    The weirdest part? It¡¯s not normal sight either¡ªit¡¯s like I can sense everything around me. Shapes outlined in faint glows, like the world¡¯s running on night vision, but crisper, clearer. Every movement, every shift in the air, it¡¯s all there.


    "Great. Now I look like some edgy wannabe hero with my super-cool blindfold," I mutter under my breath, adjusting it for the tenth time.


    The boar lets out an unimpressed oink from the corner of the room, probably judging me harder than anyone else could.


    "Don¡¯t start with me, Porky. You didn¡¯t exactly help with the whole shopping situation either."


    It just snorts and flops onto the ground like it owns the place.


    I let out a long sigh, leaning back against the wall. Okay, Eli. Clothes? Check. Demonic aura covered? Double check. Now¡­ just survive the night and figure out what the hell to do next.


    One problem at a time.


    "I guess we''re sleeping under this tree, Porky. Nothing we can do about it."


    Oink!


    I pat the boar¡¯s side as it flops down beside me, its body surprisingly warm against the cold night air. The grass isn¡¯t exactly a bed, but after the chaos of today, I¡¯ll take what I can get.


    "I guess we should leave the village first thing tomorrow¡­" My voice trails off as my stomach betrays me with a low, miserable growl. "Great. Forgot I need to eat¡­ Figures."


    I lean back against the rough bark of the tree, staring at the stars poking through the leaves. They¡¯re different here¡ªbrighter, unfamiliar constellations scattered across the sky.


    So much for an adventure, huh? Summoned by a demon lord, nearly gutted by a soldier, and now starving under a tree with a fat boar for company.


    I close my eyes, exhaustion pulling me down like an anchor.


    "Yeah¡­ tomorrow. We¡¯ll figure things out then."


    With that, the day finally comes to an end. Thankfully

 Chapter 4: Gravewalkers.. How cringe

    Throughout the whole night, I kept waking up¡ªevery twist and turn fueled by the constant gnawing in my stomach.


    Ugh¡­ I swear it¡¯s getting worse.


    The worst part? The fat pig snoring peacefully beside me wasn¡¯t helping. Porky let out soft, content oinks in his sleep, his round belly rising and falling like some cruel reminder of everything I didn¡¯t have.


    I glare at him in the darkness. "You¡¯re lucky I don¡¯t eat boar meat, you walking buffet..."


    Another growl.


    I roll over, clutching my stomach. Come on, Eli, just sleep through it. You¡¯ve been through worse¡­


    The boar shifts, letting out another obnoxious snort.


    "Yeah, real helpful, Porky. Glad you¡¯re living the dream."


    By the time the first light creeps through the trees, I feel like I¡¯ve been in a wrestling match¡ªwith my own hunger.


    "It''s already morning... I guess¡ª"


    Growl.


    I clutch my stomach. "Okay, yeah, I really need to find food."


    I glance at Porky, who''s still snoozing away like the oversized loaf he is. "Must be nice not having a human metabolism..."


    Dragging myself to my feet, I stretch and feel every muscle complain. "Alright, let''s find something edible before I pass out¡ªand no offense, Porky, but you''re off the menu."


    The forest stretches out around me, quiet except for the occasional chirp of birds. I start walking, eyes scanning for anything remotely edible¡ªberries, mushrooms, literally anything.


    Come on, Eli. How hard can it be to find food in the middle of nature?


    Ten minutes later, I''m staring at a very suspicious-looking mushroom.


    "...Yeah, knowing my luck, that''ll probably kill me." I glance back at it.


    Growl.


    "Maybe... I might be lucky today."


    I snatch the mushroom from the ground and¡ªwithout giving myself time to second-guess¡ªshove it straight into my mouth. The texture is weird, like chewing on a damp sponge, and the taste? Absolutely disgusting.


    "Blegh!" I gag, but force it down anyway. "Okay... now I just wait for the inevitable."


    I stand there for a solid minute, completely still.


    Nothing.


    "Hey... I think I''m¡ª"


    BOOM!


    A sudden explosion of nausea hits me like a freight train. My stomach twists, vision blurs, and I drop to my knees.


    "Oh no... bad idea, bad idea¡ª!"


    I curl up on the ground, groaning in pure regret. Porky waddles over and gives me a judgmental oink.


    "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, you walking ham sandwich..."


    A few agonizing minutes pass before the pain starts to fade.


    "Never again," I mutter, wiping sweat off my forehead. "Never eating mystery mushrooms again."


    And just like that, my day of survival is off to a fantastic start.


    As I continue trudging through the forest, every step feels heavier than the last. My stomach growls like an angry beast, and my mind is laser-focused on one thing: food.


    "Why did I decide to go to this forest instead of the village..." I grumble, brushing past low-hanging branches. Then it hits me. "Oh right¡ªthey wanted to kill me!"


    Another loud growl echoes from my stomach, louder this time¡ªlike it¡¯s scolding me for my terrible life choices.


    "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Starving wasn¡¯t exactly part of the plan."


    Porky trails behind me, snorting and occasionally stopping to sniff at random patches of dirt. I swear, if he finds food before I do, I''m going to lose it.


    The trees seem to stretch forever, thick and towering, like nature¡¯s own prison. Every rustle of leaves feels like a taunt.


    "At this point, I¡¯d kill for some rice¡ªhell, I¡¯d settle for instant noodles."


    Suddenly, a faint rustling sound comes from the bushes ahead. I freeze.


    "Please, for once in my miserable luck... be food and not some demon creature ready to rip me apart."


    I slowly approach, every nerve on edge, praying it''s something edible¡ªand not another bad decision waiting to happen.


    A figure steps out from the bushes¡ªsmall, hunched, and ugly as sin. A goblin.


    Its beady yellow eyes lock onto me, and it bares a row of jagged teeth, probably thinking I¡¯m the easy meal here.


    But all I can think about is food.


    "Hey... You¡¯re edible, right? I mean, if I just cook you?"


    Without wasting a second, my hand shoots to the hilt of Nyxrend, drawing the blade from its sheath with a clean, metallic shing. The weight of the sword feels comforting¡ªfamiliar.


    "No one''s around," I mutter, tightening my grip. "So my sword shouldn¡¯t attract any unwanted attention."


    The goblin snarls and takes a shaky step forward, claws flexing like it thinks it has a chance.


    I smirk. Wrong move, buddy.


    "Now... how unlucky of you, Mr. Goblin."


    The wind stills for a moment¡ªthen I charge.


    With a quick, ruthless slash, Nyxrend cuts through the goblin¡¯s neck like a hot knife through butter.


    The head hits the ground with a dull thud, eyes still wide in shock as the body crumples, spilling blood across the dirt in thick, dark streams.


    But I don¡¯t care.


    I stare at the lifeless body, not with pity or regret¡ªjust hunger gnawing at my gut like a wild animal.


    "Food," I mutter, stepping over the mess. I grab the goblin¡¯s scrawny arm, dragging the corpse toward a nearby clearing.


    "I don¡¯t have the luxury to be picky right now."


    The thought of eating a goblin should make me sick. Instead, my stomach growls like it¡¯s encouraging me.


    "Sorry, little guy," I whisper, though there¡¯s no sympathy left in me. "But it¡¯s either you... or me."


    "Now, how do I make a fire?"


    I glance around the clearing, gathering anything that looks remotely useful¡ªdry leaves, twigs, and brittle sticks. Perfect fuel.


    No mana, no shortcuts... Just good old-fashioned survival skills, I think bitterly.


    I crouch down, stacking the sticks into a small teepee shape with the driest leaves packed underneath. "Alright, Eli, basic survival mode. Just gotta spark it somehow."


    I grab two rocks from nearby¡ªjagged and rough, hopefully good enough to create some friction. This is gonna suck.


    Clack! Nothing.


    Clack! Still nothing.


    Minutes stretch on, frustration bubbling with every failed attempt. My stomach growls again, louder this time, like it¡¯s mocking me.


    "Come on! Just give me one spark!"


    I slam the rocks together with everything I have¡ªclack! A tiny ember flickers.


    "Yes! Yes! Okay, don''t screw this up."


    I lean in close, gently blowing on the ember. The leaves catch, a small flame flickering to life.


    "I actually did it..." I whisper, staring at the tiny fire like it¡¯s the greatest achievement of my life.


    Now, time for the real challenge¡ªcooking a goblin without throwing up.


    I cut up the goblin¡¯s limbs, the blade slicing through muscle and bone with unsettling ease. The smell is already horrendous, like rotten meat mixed with wet dog.


    "God, this is disgusting," I mutter, trying not to gag as I shove a stick through each severed limb. "Goblin on a stick. Five-star cuisine, right?"


    The fire crackles as I set the skewered limbs over the flame, turning them slowly. The fat¡ªor whatever that is¡ªsizzles, sending up a greasy, foul-smelling smoke.


    I glare at Porky, who''s watching with wide, curious eyes. "Don''t judge me. You¡¯re the one who brought me into this whole mess in the first place."


    The meat starts to darken, crisping at the edges.


    "Okay... this looks technically edible now. Probably."


    I pull a skewer away from the flame, hesitating. My stomach growls violently, overriding every ounce of logic telling me this is a terrible idea.


    "Alright, Eli. Bottoms up."


    I bite down¡ªand immediately regret every life choice that led me here.


    "Fuck... This shit is so ass..." I mutter, forcing myself to keep chewing. Every bite is like punishment¡ªbitter, rubbery, and tasting like something that shouldn''t be food.


    But my stomach doesn¡¯t care. It just growls louder, urging me to keep going.


    "It''s better than nothing," I choke out, my voice cracking under the weight of desperation.


    Tears prick the corners of my eyes, uninvited but inevitable. Not from the taste¡ªno, from the sheer humiliation of it all. Here I am, chewing on goblin meat in the middle of a damn forest, starving, hunted, and blindfolded with holy water-soaked cloth just to suppress the aura that makes everyone want me dead.


    I swallow hard, every muscle in my throat protesting.


    Porky oinks softly, staring at me with what feels like pity.


    "Don''t look at me like that," I snap weakly, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. "You''re not the one eating goblin kebabs just to survive..."


    Another bite. Another wave of regret.


    "Tomorrow¡­ I need to find real food. Or at this rate¡­ I might actually miss that stupid village."


    I stare at the pathetic remnants of my so-called meal¡ªcharred bits of goblin meat clinging to the stick, greasy and blackened from my barely-passable fire. My stomach has stopped growling, but it¡¯s not because I¡¯m full. No, it¡¯s given up, like the rest of me feels like doing.


    I toss the stick into the dirt with a dull thud and lean back against the rough bark of the tree.


    "Real food tomorrow," I whisper. "That¡¯s the goal."


    Porky shuffles closer and flops down beside me, letting out a content little grunt as if everything¡¯s fine.


    "At least one of us is living the good life," I mutter, pulling my makeshift blindfold tighter. The cloth is still damp with holy water, cold against my skin, but the eerie glow of my Demon Eye keeps working through it. The world is still visible¡ªfaint outlines, movements, like seeing shadows in the dark.


    I close my eyes, but sleep doesn¡¯t come.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Every branch creak, every rustle of leaves sends a spike of tension through my body. I can¡¯t shake the feeling that something¡¯s out there, watching. Waiting.


    No. Just paranoia, I tell myself. You''re tired. You''re hungry. You¡¯re¡ª


    Snap.


    That wasn¡¯t in my head.


    I sit up instantly, hand gripping the hilt of Nyxrend¡ªmy sword cold and heavy in my grasp. Porky stirs beside me, ears twitching.


    The forest is silent now. Too silent.


    Another crack of movement, this time to my left. Something¡¯s there. Something big.


    I swallow hard, forcing myself to stand, every muscle protesting from exhaustion and hunger.


    "Who''s there?" My voice comes out hoarse, but steady enough.


    No response. Just the sound of leaves brushing against each other¡ªcloser this time.


    I ready Nyxrend, feeling the faint pulse from the cursed blade, almost as if it¡¯s¡­ hungry too.


    "Alright... If something¡¯s out there looking for a fight¡ª" I tighten my grip, eyes narrowed behind the blindfold.


    "¡ªthen come and get me."


    A figure appears, standing atop a tree branch. Another emerges to my right, and one more to my left. How cool. Their uniforms are cloaks adorned with intricate patterns, each bearing a distinct badge. Their faces are concealed by smooth, featureless masks, making it impossible to read any expression.


    "Who are you guys?" I ask, my voice steady despite the creeping unease.


    The one on the right steps forward first, their cloak shifting just enough for me to catch a glimpse of the badge pinned to their chest¡ªan unsettling emblem shaped like an eye, surrounded by jagged, lightning-like lines.


    "Outsider," the masked figure says, their voice cold and sharp, like frost biting at bare skin. "You¡¯ve caused quite a stir."


    Great. Just what I needed. More people who want me dead.


    The figure on the tree branch finally speaks, their voice calm but heavy with authority, distorted slightly by the mask. "You carry the stench of demonic corruption... yet you wear a symbol of the holy." His gaze lingers on my blindfold. "Interesting."


    I grip Nyxrend tighter, my heart hammering in my chest. These guys aren¡¯t just random thugs. They¡¯re organized¡ªand dangerous.


    "Yeah, well, it¡¯s been a rough week," I mutter. "I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯re here to offer help, are you?"


    Suddenly, another figure drops from the tree, landing awkwardly with a dull thud. Their hood falls back, revealing their face¡ªno mask to hide behind this time. Pitch-black eyes, endless and empty like a void, stare back at me, and messy blonde hair falls across their forehead.


    "Ugh¡­ That hurts," they groan, clutching their side as they struggle to stand.


    "Hey!" The one on the right snaps, their voice laced with irritation. "What are you doing without your mask?"


    The blonde figure waves them off lazily, clearly unfazed by the sharp reprimand. "Relax, it¡¯s not like he¡¯ll live long enough to tell anyone," he says, flashing a grin that doesn¡¯t quite reach those hollow eyes.


    Okay. Definitely unhinged.


    I tighten my grip on Nyxrend, taking a cautious step back. "Look, I don¡¯t know who you guys are or what you want, but I¡¯m not in the mood to play games. If you¡¯re here to kill me¡ª"


    The blonde guy cuts me off with a lazy chuckle. "Kill you? No, no. That would be too easy. You¡¯re¡­ interesting." His unsettling gaze drifts to my blindfold. "Especially with that on your face."


    The tension thickens, every instinct in my body screaming to run¡ªbut I stand my ground. "Yeah? Well, interesting doesn¡¯t mean helpless. You want to test me? Go ahead."


    For a second, there¡¯s silence. Then, the masked figure on the tree branch chuckles darkly. "Perhaps we should see what makes you so... special."


    The figure on the left suddenly dashes toward me, moving like a blur. A dagger glints in the light¡ªway too close to my face.


    Shit, he''s fast!


    I barely react in time, jerking my head to the side, but not fast enough. The blade grazes me, slicing a shallow cut across the side of my head. Pain flares hot and sharp. My blindfold slips off, falling uselessly to the ground.


    No, no, no¡ªdamn it!


    The rush of cold air against my exposed eye is immediate. And then¡ªeverything changes.


    Time seems to slow. My left eye¡ªthe Demon Eye¡ªkicks in, uninvited but unavoidable. I can see it now. His next move, the slightest twitch of his muscles, the way his body angles for another strike¡ªit''s all laid out in front of me like a map of inevitability.


    The masked attacker lunges again, thinking he has the upper hand. But this time, I¡¯m ready.


    I sidestep with precision, feeling the blade miss by mere inches. My body moves on instinct¡ªfluid, sharp. Nyxrend hums in my hand as I twist and swing in one smooth motion.


    The figure skids to a halt just out of reach, clearly surprised by the sudden shift.


    "Well... that was unexpected," the blonde one says from above, voice dripping with amusement. His pitch-black eyes narrow, focused entirely on my uncovered face. "That eye... now things are getting interesting."


    I wipe the blood from my cheek and steady my breath.


    "Yeah?" I glare at him, gripping Nyxrend tighter. "Then come find out how interesting I can get."


    He charges at me again, daggers gripped tightly, but this time¡ªI see everything. Every movement, every twitch. This Demon Eye is really something else.


    His thrust comes fast, but not fast enough. I sidestep with ease, my body moving on instinct.


    I swing Nyxrend in one clean motion across his torso. The blade slices deep, cutting through fabric and flesh like it¡¯s nothing.


    He stumbles back, blood spilling from the gash. His breathing turns ragged, but the fire in his eyes doesn''t fade.


    "You''re... faster than you should be," he growls, clutching his side.


    I tighten my grip on the sword. "Yeah? Well, you''re slower than you should be."


    The tension in the air thickens, but I¡¯m ready for whatever comes next.


    "Stop!" The blonde guy shouts, his voice sharp and commanding. "You won¡¯t win against him¡ªyou¡¯re too slow."


    The wounded attacker freezes, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His grip on the daggers tightens, but the fight drains from his stance.


    The blonde one steps forward, his pitch-black eyes locking onto mine. There¡¯s no fear in them¡ªjust cold calculation.


    "You¡¯re not just some wandering demon, are you?" His tone is eerily calm, like he''s sizing me up, peeling back layers I didn¡¯t even know I had.


    I raise Nyxrend, ready for anything. "I¡¯m just hungry, man. You really wanna keep pushing this?"


    He smirks, but it doesn¡¯t reach his eyes. "Interesting answer... Maybe we were wrong about you."


    The air stays tense, every second stretching longer than it should. What do they want from me?


    "How about you join our group?" he says, raising his hand like he''s offering a friendly deal¡ªbut that grin? It''s anything but friendly. It''s sharp, menacing, like a predator playing with its food.


    "You¡¯ll fit right in with us," he adds, voice dripping with twisted enthusiasm.


    I stay silent, gripping Nyxrend tighter.


    "We¡¯ll feed you, give you shelter," he continues, pointing straight at me. "And all you have to do is carry out orders for us."


    Then he laughs¡ªcold, mocking, like he already owns me.


    Great, I think, a gang of masked creeps wants to recruit me. Just my luck.


    I glare at him. "Yeah? And what kind of ''orders'' are we talking about?"


    His grin widens. "Simple. You kill who we tell you to kill."


    The forest feels colder now, the wind carrying an uncomfortable stillness.


    Do I really have a choice?


    The figure that attacked me suddenly drops to the ground with a dull thud, blood pooling beneath him. His body twitches once¡ªthen goes still.


    I stare, stunned. Did I really just¡­?


    "Welp, he''s dead," the blonde guy says casually, as if someone just dropped a sack of potatoes instead of a corpse. That grin of his? Still there¡ªwider now, almost gleeful. "Now you definitely have to join us!"


    I grip Nyxrend tighter, my heart hammering in my chest.


    "You think killing your own guy makes me want to work with you?" I snap, voice low and sharp.


    He tilts his head, unfazed. "Oh, please. He was weak¡ªif you didn¡¯t kill him, I would¡¯ve. We don¡¯t need dead weight."


    The other masked figures stay silent, unmoving, like shadows waiting for their command.


    "You''re strong. And strength? That¡¯s all that matters in this world." His voice drops, the threat behind his words barely hidden. "You will join us. Because out here? Alone? You¡¯ll starve, or worse. With us, you¡¯ll survive. You¡¯ll thrive."


    I glance at Porky, who¡¯s shuffling nervously behind me.


    Damn it. Do I actually have a choice? I mean, this is a cool group either way¡ªbut they might kill Porky. No way I''m letting that happen.


    I steady my breath, tightening my grip on Nyxrend before lowering it. "Fine. I¡¯ll join you. But you¡¯re going to meet my conditions first."


    The blonde guy raises an eyebrow, still grinning like this is all some big joke. "Conditions? You¡¯re not in much of a position to bargain, y¡¯know."


    "Yeah, well, listen anyway," I shoot back. "First, help me remove this demonic presence¡ªI can¡¯t keep walking around like a moving target. Second, no one else but you three can know about my demonic eye. And finally¡­ you can¡¯t touch Porky."


    The tension hangs in the air for a beat. His eyes narrow just slightly, like he¡¯s sizing me up all over again.


    Then¡ªhe laughs. Not mocking this time¡ªjust¡­ amused. "Done," he says without even thinking twice.


    That was too easy¡­


    "You¡¯ll find we¡¯re good at keeping secrets," he adds, waving a hand lazily. "And as for that demonic aura? We¡¯ve got someone who can handle¡­ cleansing."


    Porky oinks nervously behind me.


    "Relax, pork chop," the blonde says, giving him a wink. "You¡¯re safe¡ªfor now."


    I swallow hard. What the hell did I just get myself into?


    He raises his hand high, voice dripping with dramatic flair. "Welcome to the Gravewalkers!" His pitch-black eyes lock onto mine, and that damn grin stretches wider. "Our motto? Fear the weight of your sins."


    What is that edgy name... I deadpan internally, already regretting life choices.


    He spins on his heel like some over-the-top villain and throws his arms out wide. "Our headcount is now four!" His voice echoes through the trees, like he¡¯s announcing a grand achievement.


    Wait¡ªfour?


    "Why do you look shocked?" The blonde bursts into laughter, loud and unhinged. "Did you really think we were some big, scary organization? HAAHAHA! I just started this whole thing yesterday!"


    I blink. Yesterday?


    "Yesterday?!" My voice cracks like dry wood. "You¡¯re telling me I just joined a group that¡¯s not even a full day old?"


    He wipes a tear from his eye, still grinning like a lunatic. "Yep! You¡¯re practically a founding member now. Congrats!"


    Oh, fantastic. Not only did I join the edgiest-sounding club in existence, but it¡¯s also a startup cult run by a psycho with commitment issues.


    I stare blankly at him, trying to process how my day went from starving in the woods to joining a budget villain squad.


    "Don¡¯t look so depressed," he says, slapping my back again¡ªhard enough to nearly knock me over. "We¡¯re gonna be legendary."


    "Yeah," I mutter under my breath, glancing at Porky, who looks just as done with this nonsense as I am. "Legendary disasters, maybe."


    Growl.


    Everyone turns to stare at me. Even Porky looks mildly concerned.


    I clear my throat, trying to play it off. "Uh¡­ yeah. Guess I¡¯m still hungry."


    The blonde guy¡¯s grin stretches wider¡ªhow does his face do that? "Hungry, huh? Perfect timing! Let¡¯s head back to our base."


    Base? That¡¯s generous. I bet it¡¯s just a hole in the ground with a tarp over it.


    He spins on his heel dramatically, throwing his arm out like some kind of discount villain. "Follow me, Gravewalker! You¡¯re about to witness our fortress of doom!"


    I glance at the others. They seem way too into this. Great. Just great.


    Sighing, I pat Porky¡¯s head. "Come on, buddy. Let¡¯s go see just how depressing this ¡®base¡¯ really is."


    Porky oinks like he already knows we¡¯re in for disappointment.


    The walk isn¡¯t as long as I expected, but the deeper we go into the forest, the colder the air feels¡ªlike the trees themselves are watching. Eventually, we stop in front of a cliffside covered in thick vines.


    The blonde guy turns dramatically, that ridiculous grin plastered on his face. "Welcome to our base, Gravewalker."


    He pulls back the vines, revealing a hidden stone door. With a heavy grind, it creaks open, and¡ªokay, I¡¯ll admit¡ªit¡¯s not what I expected.


    The place is huge.


    The ceiling stretches high above, with jagged stone formations hanging like teeth from the dark. Shadows dance across the walls from scattered torches, making everything look ten times more ominous than it probably needs to be.


    But the real kicker? The treasure.


    Gold coins, shimmering jewels, and piles of valuables are just scattered everywhere¡ªlike someone raided a king¡¯s vault and couldn¡¯t be bothered to organize it. Expensive weapons rest lazily against the walls. Luxurious rugs are tossed on the cold ground like cheap rags.


    "This¡­ all of this?" I blink, trying to wrap my head around it.


    The blonde guy throws his arms out like he¡¯s presenting art. "Courtesy of some very generous donors. You know¡ªcorrupt nobles, greedy merchants. They won¡¯t be missing it. Mostly because, well... they''re dead."


    I stare at him, trying to figure out if he¡¯s joking. He isn¡¯t.


    Another guy¡ªstill masked¡ªleans casually against a chest overflowing with gold. "Took everything they had. They deserved worse, honestly."


    The blonde guy claps me on the back like we¡¯re old friends. "Pretty cozy for four people, huh? You can thank our generosity redistribution program for that."


    I glance around at the scattered wealth. Okay, I won¡¯t lie¡ªthis is kinda badass.


    Porky sniffs at a jewel-encrusted goblet on the ground, clearly unimpressed.


    "Welcome home, Gravewalker," the blonde guy says, voice dripping with that same smug confidence. "Not bad for a group of ¡®nobodies,¡¯ huh?"


    Yeah¡­ this might actually be more trouble than I thought.


    He suddenly whips something out from behind his back with way too much enthusiasm. "TADA!"


    In his hands is a silver platter¡ªwell, okay, it''s more tarnished than silver, but still, the effort¡¯s there. He yanks off the lid like he¡¯s unveiling a treasure.


    "Goat meat from the best of the best!" His grin is wide enough to split his face in half.


    The smell hits me instantly¡ªrich, savory, and actually good. My stomach growls so loudly Porky snorts in agreement.


    I stare at the perfectly cooked meat, juices still glistening under the torchlight. It¡¯s tender, steaming, seasoned with herbs I didn¡¯t even know existed in this world.


    "Where¡­ how did you even get this?" I ask, my voice half in disbelief, half drowned out by another stomach growl.


    He shrugs like it¡¯s no big deal. "Oh, you know, one of those generous donors had expensive taste. Shame he couldn¡¯t enjoy it."


    I glance down at the food again. My pride wants to refuse¡ªbecause seriously, this guy is way too smug¡ªbut hunger wins.


    I snatch a piece and take a bite.


    ¡­Holy hell.


    It¡¯s tender, juicy, packed with flavor¡ªlike every bite is pure bliss. I don¡¯t even care if this came from some rich dude¡¯s private stash.


    Porky nudges my side, eyes locked on the platter like a starving beast.


    "Fine," I mumble, tossing him a chunk. He devours it in seconds.


    The blonde guy watches, arms crossed, smirking like he just saved my life. "See? I told you joining us would be worth it."


    Yeah¡­ maybe it actually will be.


    The blonde guy claps his hands together dramatically. "Now, how rude of us! We haven¡¯t even introduced ourselves."


    He steps forward first, tossing his messy blonde hair back like he¡¯s some kind of hero in a bad drama. His pitch-black eyes still hold that unsettling void-like depth, like they could swallow you whole if you looked too long.


    "Name¡¯s Ravyn¡ªwith a ¡®y,¡¯ because I¡¯m fancy like that." His grin is sharp, borderline predatory. "I¡¯m the leader of this little operation¡ªGravewalkers, remember?* Fear the weight of your sins* and all that edgy crap." He laughs like it¡¯s the funniest thing ever.


    He gestures to the massive figure standing silently to the side. "This big guy right here?"


    The man steps forward, and big doesn¡¯t even begin to cover it. He¡¯s built like a fortress¡ªeasily over 6''5", broad shoulders, arms thick with muscle. His square-jawed face is marked by a couple of deep scars running across his cheek and nose. His short, dark hair is neatly cut, and his steely gray eyes feel like they¡¯re always calculating something.


    "Mark," he says, voice low and gravelly.


    "And last but definitely not least..." Ravyn gestures toward a figure leaning against the wall, arms crossed.


    She steps forward¡ªtall and lean, with jet-black hair tied back in a tight ponytail. Her sharp emerald eyes cut right through me, and there¡¯s a jagged scar trailing from her eyebrow down to her temple. Her smirk screams trouble.


    "Lena," she says coolly, voice smooth with a hint of sarcasm.


    Ravyn claps again, clearly enjoying the moment way too much. "And there you have it! The Gravewalkers! A little rough, sure, but we get the job done."


    He shoots me that same manic grin. "Now, what should we call you, newbie?"


    "Eli. You can call me eli"


    Ravyn¡¯s grin stretches even wider, if that¡¯s even possible. "Eli, huh? Simple. I like it¡ªshort, sweet, and easy to remember."


    Lena raises an eyebrow, giving me a quick once-over. "Eli?" she repeats, like she¡¯s testing how it sounds in her mouth. "You don¡¯t look like much¡­ but that little trick with the sword back there says otherwise."


    Mark just gives a low grunt of acknowledgment. Not exactly talkative, but I¡¯ll take it.


    Ravyn throws an arm around my shoulder like we¡¯re suddenly best friends. "Well, Eli, welcome to the Gravewalkers. You¡¯re officially one of us now, which means food, shelter, and... whatever this chaos is." He waves his hand around the messy base, piles of stolen riches scattered like someone gave a child a treasure chest and told them to go wild.


    He leans in closer, voice dropping just enough to sound a little more serious. "And don¡¯t forget our deal. We¡¯ll help with that little demonic presence of yours¡ªand keep your secret safe."


    Lena smirks again, arms crossed. "Hope you¡¯re ready for some real work, though. We don¡¯t take dead weight."


    "Dead weight?" Ravyn snorts. "You saw what he did back there¡ªhe¡¯ll be fine."


    Porky oinks from the corner, munching on some scraps someone must¡¯ve tossed his way.


    I let out a breath. Great. A psycho leader, a human wall, a sarcastic blade-wielder, and a fat pig. What could possibly go wrong?


    "Get some rest, Eli," Ravyn says, finally stepping back. "Tomorrow, we start your first job."


    First job? Yeah, this is gonna be fun.

 Chapter 5: Mad demon

    Ravyn sits casually on a pile of stolen treasure, tossing a gold coin in the air like he¡¯s got all the time in the world.


    I thought he was gonna give me a mission¡­


    I cross my arms, already getting impatient. "Hey, Ravyn, what mission am I supposed to do? And what do I get after I complete it?"


    He lazily turns his head toward me, his grin never fading. "Mission? Ah! Right, right¡ªalmost forgot." He stretches, cracking his neck before waving a hand dismissively. "It¡¯s simple. Just kill a demon somewhere in the forest."


    I raise an eyebrow. "That¡¯s it?"


    He chuckles. "Oh, don¡¯t act like it¡¯s easy. You might have some tricks, Eli, but demons aren¡¯t just wild animals. They fight back."


    I tap my foot, waiting. "And my reward?"


    Ravyn''s grin widens. "We conceal that demonic stench of yours."


    That makes me pause. That¡¯s actually worth it. No more people sensing me from a mile away and trying to gut me? Yeah, I¡¯ll take that deal.


    Lena, still leaning against the wall, smirks. "Hope you¡¯re not afraid of a little blood, newbie."


    Mark grunts. "Or dying."


    Porky oinks. Probably not relevant, but still.


    I let out a deep sigh. "Fine. Give me the details."


    Ravyn just laughs. "Oh, you¡¯ll find it. Or it will find you."


    "Wait, I¡¯m going alone?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at Ravyn. "Are you seriously not even gonna watch me?"


    Ravyn bursts out laughing like I just told the funniest joke in the world. "Oh, no, no, no, newbie¡ªyou¡¯re on your own for this one." He leans back, balancing his chair on two legs. "Think of it as a trust exercise... but, y¡¯know, with a chance of violent death."


    Lena smirks from the side. "If you die, then I guess you weren¡¯t worth keeping around."


    Mark grunts, which I assume means "she''s not wrong."


    I glance at Porky, who just oinks at me like he¡¯s also questioning my life choices.


    I sigh. "Great. So, I just wander into the creepy demon-infested forest and hope I find something to kill before it finds me?"


    "Pretty much!" Ravyn grins. "Oh, and no coming back empty-handed. We need proof that you actually did the job."


    "Proof?"


    "Y¡¯know, a severed head, a claw, something cool. Use your imagination!"


    I rub my temples. "Fine. But if I die, I¡¯m haunting all of you."


    Ravyn claps his hands together. "Deal! Now get out there, Gravewalker¡ªyour fate awaits!"


    I hate this guy.


    I walk toward the door, and as if on cue, the heavy stone gate creaks open. The morning light floods in, momentarily blinding me after spending so much time in the dimly lit base.


    At least they have good timing.


    The crisp morning air greets me as I step outside. The forest stretches ahead, vast and eerily quiet, the trees swaying gently in the breeze. The fresh scent of damp earth and leaves fills my lungs, a stark contrast to the scent of old stone and stolen gold back in the hideout.


    Porky trots beside me, his little feet padding against the dirt.


    "Yeah, yeah, I know," I mutter, glancing down at him. "You think this is a terrible idea. Me too."


    But there¡¯s no turning back now. If I want that demonic stench gone, I have to do this.


    I take a deep breath, tighten my grip on Nyxrend, and make my way deeper into the forest.


    "How am I supposed to find this demon?" I mutter, glancing around. Everywhere I look, it''s just an endless sea of green¡ªtowering trees, thick undergrowth, and vines twisting around ancient trunks. Sunlight barely filters through the dense canopy, casting flickering shadows on the moss-covered ground.


    "This forest is huge¡­" I exhale, adjusting my grip on Nyxrend. If I don¡¯t find a clue soon, I¡¯ll be stuck wandering in circles.


    Suddenly, a thought pops into my head. Light bulb. I graze my chin, a smirk creeping onto my face.


    "Demons attract demons, right? If I use my Demon Eye, I should definitely draw it here. No way it wouldn¡¯t come to its only teammate in the middle of the forest."


    I close my right eye, leaving only my left open. I should be radiating my demonic aura everywhere now. I exhale, a hint of unease creeping in. Hopefully, I don¡¯t attract any humans instead.


    A chill runs down my spine as my Demon Eye flares to life. The air around me feels heavier, charged with an invisible force. If there¡¯s a demon nearby, it should sense me any second now.


    Minutes pass. The only sounds are the rustling leaves and the distant calls of birds. I tap my foot impatiently. Come on¡­ There¡¯s no way this thing doesn¡¯t notice me.


    Then, a shift. A presence¡ªfaint but unmistakable¡ªlurks at the edge of my senses. My grip tightens around Nyxrend.


    "There you are," I whisper, a grin forming on my lips.


    A rustling sound echoes through the trees, followed by a low, guttural growl. Something¡ªor someone¡ªis approaching.


    A deep, guttural growl rumbles through the trees. My body tenses.


    "Why is it growling? What is this, a wolf?" I mutter under my breath, glancing at Porky. The massive boar stares back, drool dripping from its mouth, oblivious to the danger.


    I quickly sign for him to stay put. The last thing I need is him charging in and making things worse.


    The growling grows louder, closer. Leaves rustle, branches snap. Whatever it is, it¡¯s big¡ªand it¡¯s heading straight for me.


    It suddenly lunges out of the bush.


    A demon.


    I instinctively take a step back, gripping Nyxrend tighter. Its presence is suffocating, like a thick, invisible pressure pressing down on me. So this is what demonic aura feels like... Zareth never radiated any, so I¡¯ve never experienced it firsthand. It¡¯s raw, oppressive¡ªyet strangely familiar.


    But something feels... off. My eyes narrow as I get a better look at it.


    Why does it look human?


    The demon stands before me, its posture tense, its gaze locked onto mine. If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d mistake it for a regular person. Are all demons like this? The thought lingers in my mind, unsettling.


    Porky lets out a low grunt behind me, snapping me back to the moment. I exhale slowly, keeping my stance firm.


    "Alright, buddy. Let''s see what you''re about."


    The demon lunges.


    A blur of motion. Before I can even think, pain explodes in my ribs. The impact sends me flying, my back slamming against a tree with enough force to rattle my bones. A choked gasp escapes my lips as I slump forward, barely catching myself on one knee. My vision swims, the world tilting for a second.


    Shit. That was fast.


    The demon doesn¡¯t give me time to breathe. It¡¯s already on me, closing the distance in an instant. I barely register the movement before a clawed hand crashes into my shoulder, the force sending me tumbling across the dirt. My body bounces once¡ªtwice¡ªbefore I skid to a stop, coughing up dust and saliva.


    I force myself onto my hands and knees, my breath ragged. My entire body screams in protest, but I can¡¯t stop moving. I glance up just in time to see it stalking forward, its glowing crimson eyes locked onto me like a predator savoring its wounded prey.


    It grins, sharp teeth gleaming in the dim forest light.


    "Humans¡­ so weak¡­ but so delicious¡­"


    A chill runs down my spine.


    I grit my teeth and push myself to my feet, raising Nyxrend. My grip tightens on the hilt. I can¡¯t let it rattle me. This isn¡¯t the first fight I¡¯ve been in since coming here, but something about this one feels different.


    More desperate.


    More hopeless.


    The demon moves again. No wasted motion, no hesitation¡ªjust pure, inhuman speed. I try to swing, but I¡¯m too slow. A fist crashes into my gut, and I feel something crack. A strangled gasp escapes me as I double over, but the demon doesn¡¯t stop. A knee slams into my jaw, sending me airborne, and before I even hit the ground, another hit collides with my back, slamming me down like a meteor.


    The impact leaves me gasping in the dirt. My vision flickers. Damn it¡­ I try to push myself up, but my arms tremble beneath me.


    Then¡ª


    CRACK.


    A sharp, blinding pain erupts in my side as the demon¡¯s foot connects, launching me like a ragdoll. I crash through a tree, the trunk splintering from the force. Agony explodes in my ribs as I hit the ground, coughing up blood.


    I can¡¯t keep up¡­


    The demon is too fast. Too strong. Every time I try to counter, it¡¯s already moved. Every time I think I see an opening, it¡¯s a feint. It¡¯s playing with me.


    The realization makes my stomach turn. I can¡¯t win like this.


    But I have to.


    I force myself to stand. My legs feel like they¡¯re made of lead, my breaths shallow and uneven. Blood trickles down my forehead, stinging my eye. My arms feel like they¡¯re barely attached, but I raise Nyxrend again, forcing my body to obey.


    The demon tilts its head, almost curious. Then it vanishes.


    Where¡ª?!


    I barely register the sound of air being torn apart before a clawed hand rips across my chest. A deep gash opens, pain flaring through my nerves like fire. My body reacts on instinct, stumbling back just in time to avoid the follow-up strike.


    I can¡¯t even see it move.


    Another attack. This time I try to dodge, but my legs don¡¯t respond fast enough. A fist collides with my ribs again, and something definitely breaks this time. I bite down a scream as my body caves in from the force, sent flying once more.


    I hit the ground hard. My body refuses to move.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Am I¡­ really going to die here?


    The demon walks toward me, slow, deliberate. Savoring the moment. Its grin widens, drool dripping from its lips as it crouches over me.


    "You¡­ look so fragile¡­ how do you taste, I wonder?"


    It raises a clawed hand, ready to rip me apart¡ª


    Then¡ª


    Something shifts.


    A flicker of light in my mind. A pulse in my blood. My Demon Eye burns, the world sharpening into brutal clarity. My muscles scream, but my mind suddenly feels¡­ clear.


    I see it.


    The way its weight shifts before an attack. The subtle movements in its shoulders. The half-second of preparation before every strike.


    And suddenly¡ªI understand.


    "Wait a second¡­" I breathe, a weak chuckle escaping my lips. My battered body still trembles, but my grip on Nyxrend tightens. A grin stretches across my bloodied face.


    "I get it now."


    The demon hesitates, just for a second, confused by my sudden confidence.


    And in that second, I move.


    It lunges¡ª


    I sidestep.


    It swipes low¡ª


    I jump back just in time. The attack barely misses, stirring the dust where I once stood. I can see it now. The rhythm. The cycle.


    "This is just like a Souls game!" I shout, exhilaration flooding my veins. "It only attacks in a pattern! My Demon Eye must be helping me read it!"


    The demon snarls, enraged. It throws another attack¡ªthis time, I parry, redirecting its claw just enough to leave it open for a split second. My sword slashes out, carving into its side.


    The demon howls.


    Blood drips from my blade. It can be hurt.


    I exhale sharply, ignoring the pain in my limbs. My movements feel lighter now, more precise. Every attack, every step¡ªit¡¯s like I¡¯ve fought this thing a hundred times before.


    The demon charges again, but this time, I meet it head-on. I duck under its swipe, roll to the side, and slash at its leg. The blade connects, cutting deep, and the demon stumbles. I pivot, bringing Nyxrend down in a brutal arc¡ª


    SLASH.


    Another deep wound. The demon screeches, staggering backward.


    "You were kicking my ass before," I pant, wiping the blood from my mouth. My grin doesn¡¯t fade. "But now? You¡¯re just another boss fight."


    The demon roars, lunging in blind fury.


    But this time, I¡¯m ready.


    Now, it¡¯s my turn.


    The demon howls in frustration, its movements becoming more erratic. It lunges again, but I¡¯m already one step ahead. I sidestep, watching as its clawed hand slices through empty air, then counter with a quick slash across its back.


    It roars in pain, spinning toward me with wild, desperate swipes. But now, I see everything. Every attack, every twitch of its muscles¡ªit¡¯s all becoming predictable. My Demon Eye pulses, the world around me sharpening with unnatural clarity.


    "You were overwhelming at first," I say, dodging another swipe with ease. My blade whips out, carving another deep gash into its side. Blood splatters across the forest floor, staining the grass crimson. "But now? You¡¯re just a rage-quitting player who realized they¡¯re about to lose."


    The demon lets out a guttural snarl, then does something unexpected. It stops attacking.


    I pause, gripping Nyxrend tightly. What is it planning?


    Then¡ªI see it. The wounds I¡¯ve inflicted start to close, flesh knitting itself back together. Its breathing steadies, and the wild look in its eyes dulls into something worse.


    Cold, calculating hunger.


    It¡¯s regenerating.


    My stomach twists. If I don¡¯t finish this fast, it¡¯s going to recover completely¡ªand then I¡¯ll be back to square one. I tighten my grip on Nyxrend and exhale. Alright then. No more playing around.


    I lower my stance, my Demon Eye flaring with intensity. The next exchange will decide everything.


    The demon grins, its jagged teeth glistening with fresh saliva. Its wounds seal up like they were never there, the gashes I carved into its flesh fading before my eyes.


    Damn it. It¡¯s healing faster than I can damage it.


    I grit my teeth. If I let this drag out, I¡¯ll lose. My body is already at its limit, and this thing? It¡¯s just getting started.


    The demon tilts its head, amusement flickering in its glowing red eyes. Then¡ªwithout warning¡ªit vanishes.


    My instincts scream. I throw myself backward just as its claws slice through the air where my throat had been a second ago. It lands in a crouch, then springs at me again, faster than before.


    I block with Nyxrend, but the impact nearly rips the sword from my hands. My feet skid across the dirt, barely holding my ground. Before I can recover, it¡¯s already mid-attack again.


    A clawed hand slashes toward my side¡ªI twist away, but not fast enough. Pain flares as its nails tear into my skin, warm blood seeping into my combat attire.


    I bite back a scream. Focus. Stay calm.


    It presses the attack, forcing me onto the defensive. My arms ache with every block, my body sluggish with exhaustion. I dodge left¡ªtoo slow. Its knee slams into my ribs, sending me stumbling.


    It pounces, aiming to finish me off.


    I react on instinct. Nyxrend swings up just in time¡ªsteel meets flesh, slicing through its outstretched arm.


    The demon shrieks, black blood spraying into the air. I don¡¯t stop. I can¡¯t stop. I press forward, slashing at its chest, its legs¡ªanything I can reach.


    It leaps back, snarling. The confidence in its gaze wavers.


    That¡¯s right. You feel it, don¡¯t you?


    I adjust my stance, my breath ragged. My Demon Eye is working overtime, reading its movements before it makes them. Every dodge, every parry¡ªI¡¯m getting faster.


    Smarter.


    The demon rushes me again, but this time, I don¡¯t just react¡ªI counter. It slashes low¡ªI step over it and drive my knee into its gut. It staggers, gasping. My blade follows, cutting a deep line across its chest.


    It howls in agony, stumbling back.


    I don¡¯t give it time to recover. I lunge forward, bringing Nyxrend down in a brutal arc¡ª


    But just before my strike lands, the demon smiles.


    A chill runs down my spine.


    Then, in a blur of motion, it vanishes again.


    What¡ª?!


    Pain explodes in my back. I barely process the impact before another strike slams into my shoulder. My vision flashes white as I crash to the ground.


    My thoughts whirl. It tricked me!


    I try to move, but my body isn¡¯t responding fast enough. Heavy footsteps approach, and I roll onto my side just in time to see the demon looming over me, grinning.


    It lifts a foot and stomps down¡ª


    I twist away, barely avoiding my ribs being shattered. Scrambling to my feet, I raise Nyxrend, panting.


    That was close. Too close.


    The demon tilts its head again, studying me. Then it does something that sends a shiver through my bones.


    It laughs.


    A deep, guttural, inhuman laugh.


    "This is fun," it purrs, voice dripping with malice. "Struggle more. Break more."


    My grip tightens. My body is screaming at me to stop, to run¡ªbut I can¡¯t. I won¡¯t.


    I take a deep breath. Calm down. Think.


    I replay the fight in my head. The movements. The patterns. What changed?


    And then¡ªit clicks.


    It¡¯s adapting.


    Just like me.


    Shit.


    I shake my head. No. I can still win this.


    The demon crouches, preparing to charge again.


    I exhale slowly. My Demon Eye glows brighter.


    "Alright, freakshow," I mutter, raising my blade. A smirk tugs at my lips despite the pain. "You wanna play? Let¡¯s play."


    The final round begins.


    The demon vanishes.


    Not a sound. Not a warning.


    I barely have time to register the movement before¡ª


    THWACK!


    A clawed fist slams into my ribs, sending me airborne. My breath leaves my lungs in a violent gasp. Before I can even think about recovering¡ª


    CRACK!


    Something strikes my back midair, slamming me into the ground like a ragdoll. The impact rattles my skull, my vision blurring from the sheer force. I try to move¡ª


    But the demon is already here.


    It grabs me by the throat and lifts me effortlessly, my feet dangling above the dirt.


    "Too slow," it sneers, squeezing. My lungs burn as I claw at its hand, but its grip is like iron.


    Black spots creep into my vision. My limbs grow heavy.


    No¡ªnot like this.


    I tighten my grip on Nyxrend, forcing my muscles to move through sheer willpower. With the last bit of strength I can muster, I swing.


    The blade carves deep into its shoulder, cutting through flesh and bone.


    The demon screams and recoils, dropping me. I hit the ground hard, gasping for air, my throat raw.


    No time to recover. It¡¯s already moving again.


    I roll to the side as its foot crashes down where my head had been a second ago. Dirt and debris fly into the air.


    It¡¯s pushing harder now.


    I scramble to my feet, my body screaming in protest. My whole frame feels battered, my breaths ragged.


    The demon¡¯s wounds are healing. Not as fast as before, but still fast enough to be a problem.


    I need to finish this. Now.


    The demon charges. But this time, I don¡¯t wait.


    I rush in too, meeting it head-on.


    It slashes¡ªI duck.


    It spins for a backhand¡ªI step in, jamming my elbow into its ribs. The impact staggers it for a second¡ªjust enough time.


    I pivot, Nyxrend gleaming in the dim light, and slash upward.


    The blade carves through its arm, nearly severing it completely.


    The demon shrieks, stumbling back. It clutches its mangled limb, eyes wild with pain and fury.


    I press the attack.


    I¡¯m faster now. Not just physically¡ªbut mentally. My Demon Eye burns with every movement, every twitch of its muscles laid bare before me.


    The demon lunges, desperate. I sidestep, dragging my blade across its side.


    A deep cut.


    It roars, swinging wildly. I duck under one strike, then another. It¡¯s slower now¡ªsloppy. The frustration in its eyes is clear.


    It knows it¡¯s losing.


    "Not so fun anymore, huh?" I taunt, exhaling sharply. My body is still wrecked, but adrenaline is keeping me upright.


    The demon snarls¡ªand then, it does something unexpected.


    It stops.


    Its chest rises and falls, its body trembling. Then¡ªits mouth stretches into a grotesque grin.


    "I see now," it hisses. "You learn."


    I freeze.


    "You¡­ steal."


    My stomach drops.


    Before I can react, the demon lunges with everything it has.


    Faster than ever.


    I barely bring Nyxrend up in time. The sheer force behind its attack sends me flying, my back slamming into a tree. The impact knocks the wind out of me.


    I cough, trying to push myself up¡ªbut the demon is already on top of me.


    A clawed hand grips my face, slamming my head into the dirt. Stars explode in my vision.


    I struggle, but it doesn¡¯t let up.


    "You think you¡¯re the only one who adapts?" it growls, its breath hot against my skin.


    Shit¡ª!


    I twist, using every ounce of strength to break free, but it¡¯s relentless. It raises its free hand, claws glinting in the dim light.


    It¡¯s going to end this.


    I need to move¡ªNOW!


    My mind races. My Demon Eye flares.


    I see the pattern. The rhythm. The opening.


    And I take it.


    At the last second, I shift my weight, twisting just enough to break its grip. My head barely clears the incoming claws as I roll away.


    I land on my feet¡ªbarely. My legs nearly give out, but I force them to hold.


    The demon turns, snarling. But this time¡ªI¡¯m already moving.


    I close the distance in a single step. It lashes out¡ªtoo slow. I weave past its strike, blade flashing in the dim light.


    A clean, brutal slash across its chest.


    The demon gasps, stumbling back, blood spraying from the deep wound.


    I don¡¯t stop.


    I can¡¯t stop.


    Nyxrend cuts through its thigh. Then its arm. Each strike faster, sharper. The demon tries to retreat, but I won¡¯t let it.


    This ends now.


    I dash forward, my blade raised for the final strike.


    The demon¡¯s eyes widen¡ªfear flashing for the first time.


    It opens its mouth, as if to speak¡ª


    But Nyxrend carves through its throat before it can.


    Silence.


    For a moment, neither of us move.


    Then, the demon staggers, choking on blackened blood. Its body trembles¡ªthen, with a final gasp, it collapses.


    Dead.


    I stand there, chest rising and falling, my whole body shaking. My arms feel like lead, my legs ready to give out.


    But I won.


    I won.


    I exhale, wiping blood¡ªmine and the demon¡¯s¡ªoff my face.


    "Damn," I mutter, finally letting the exhaustion sink in. "That was way harder than it needed to be."


    I glance down at the corpse, my thoughts still racing. It was strong¡ªstronger than anything I¡¯ve faced so far.


    But in the end¡­


    I adapted.


    I pull Nyxrend free, the demon collapsing in a heap at my feet. My breaths come ragged, my entire body trembling. Every muscle feels like it¡¯s on fire, my wounds burning with each movement.


    I take a shaky step back. Damn¡­ that was brutal.


    Pain? I can handle pain. Zareth¡¯s training had pushed me past my limits more times than I could count. But this level of exhaustion? This bone-deep fatigue that makes my limbs feel like lead? That¡¯s harder to ignore.


    I roll my shoulders, wincing. Still alive¡­ barely.


    With a heavy sigh, I wipe the blood¡ªmine and the demon¡¯s¡ªoff my face. I glance at the corpse, making sure it isn¡¯t getting back up. Nothing. Just a lifeless husk.


    Finally, I sheath Nyxrend, ready to move on¡ª


    "Yummy."


    I freeze.


    My fingers tighten around the hilt. My heart skips a beat.


    I exhale sharply, wiping blood from my mouth. Right, a soul-eating sword that talks. How could I forget?


    Before I can even process what just happened¡ª


    Clap. Clap. Clap.


    I freeze. That sound. Slow. Mocking.


    I turn my head, my exhausted body tensing on instinct.


    Standing at the edge of the clearing, leaning casually against a tree, is Ravyn. His jagged mask tilts slightly, those glowing violet slits practically grinning at me. Next to him, arms crossed and as unshakable as ever, stands Mark, his war hammer resting against his shoulder.


    "Took you long enough," Ravyn drawls, his voice dripping with amusement. "Thought we''d have to step in and save your sorry ass."


    Mark says nothing, just staring at the corpse of the demon, then at me. A silent nod¡ªacknowledgment, maybe respect.


    I sigh, running a hand through my hair. Great. An audience.


    Ravyn casually walks over to the demon¡¯s corpse and crouches beside it, grabbing the severed head like it¡¯s nothing more than a hunting trophy. He turns it over in his hands, inspecting it with mild interest before letting out an amused chuckle.


    "Well, I kinda thought you were gonna die," he admits, tilting the head slightly, as if checking for any signs of life. "But hey, you didn¡¯t! And I don¡¯t want you dead, Eli. You¡¯re different from normal people¡ªyou¡¯ve got potential."


    He tosses the head up slightly before catching it again, his grin never fading. "And, fun fact¡ªthis mission? It was Rajah Rank."


    I freeze. "Rajah?" The name alone sounds important. A bad feeling creeps up my spine. "Wait¡ªwhat does that even mean? Is that some kind of high-ranking adventurer level?"


    Mark, standing beside him, crosses his arms. "It means you were in way over your head." His deep voice is flat, but there¡¯s something almost... impressed in his tone. "That demon was already injured before you got here. If it had been at full strength, you wouldn¡¯t have stood a chance."


    My eye twitches. "You knew?"


    Ravyn shrugs like it¡¯s no big deal. "Well, yeah." He waves a hand dismissively. "I mean, it¡¯s not like I threw you in completely blind. You had your sword, your demon eye, your determination¡ª"


    I cut him off. "You sent me on an errand like some low-level lackey!"


    "Whoa, whoa, don¡¯t say it like that!" Ravyn feigns offense, pressing a hand to his chest. "I did warn you I¡¯d be giving you missions, didn¡¯t I?"


    I glare at him, barely restraining myself from lunging at his stupid, grinning face. "Missions usually come with information! Like, I don¡¯t know, ¡®Hey Eli, by the way, this thing could rip you in half even when it¡¯s half-dead!¡¯"


    Lena, still leaning against a tree with her arms crossed, smirks. "Well, you didn¡¯t die, so why are you complaining?"


    I groan, rubbing my temples. "I swear, if this is how things are gonna be, I might actually die from stress before I die in battle."


    Ravyn grins, tossing the severed head into a bag. "Relax, newbie! You passed the test, and that¡¯s all that matters. Now, let¡¯s head back to base¡ªgotta hold up our end of the deal, right?"


    I sigh, utterly drained. "Fine. Whatever. I did the job. Let¡¯s just get this over with."


    Porky, who has been watching the entire conversation, lets out a low oink¡ªprobably judging me.


    I shake my head and trudge after the others. At least I survived. That¡¯s gotta count for something... right?

 Chapter 6: Father Gabriel

    Back at the hideout, Lena places her hand on my chest. A strange warmth spreads from her fingertips, followed by a sudden pulse of mana radiating outward. The air crackles with energy, and I feel something wrapping around me¡ªlike an invisible second skin tightening over my body.


    I flinch instinctively. What the hell is she doing? My Demon Eye flickers to life, revealing swirling threads of mana flowing from her palm. They twist and weave around me, sinking into my skin like ink dissolving in water.


    Lena smirks. ¡°Relax, newbie. This won¡¯t hurt... much.¡±


    I tense. ¡°That¡¯s not reassuring.¡±


    The mana pulses again, stronger this time, and a sudden pressure grips my chest. It¡¯s not painful, but it feels like something is being pulled out¡ªor suppressed. My demonic aura, the telltale signature marking me as different, flickers and starts to dim.


    From the side, Ravyn watches with his arms crossed. ¡°Neat trick, huh? Lena¡¯s a specialist in ¡®hiding things.¡¯ People, artifacts, even a stench like yours.¡±


    I exhale sharply as the sensation fades. I glance down at my hands. I look the same, but something feels... off. Lighter, almost. Like a part of me was just locked away.


    Lena pulls her hand back, shaking it like she just touched something disgusting. ¡°There. Your demonic scent is suppressed¡ªmostly. It won¡¯t hold up against high-ranking priests or divine relics, but for everyday people? You¡¯re just another dirty human now.¡±


    I flex my fingers, still adjusting to the feeling. ¡°And what¡¯s the catch?¡±


    Lena grins. ¡°Smart boy. It needs to be reapplied every so often. And guess what? You¡¯re stuck with us if you don¡¯t want people sniffing you out.¡±


    Ravyn claps his hands together. ¡°Now, let me ask you this. Do you want to permanently remove that stench or not?¡±


    He steps closer, his eerie black eyes locked onto mine. There¡¯s a playfulness in his tone, but something about the way he says it makes my skin crawl.


    ¡°If you want,¡± he continues, lowering his voice slightly, ¡°then we can go to a friend of mine.¡± He clears his throat dramatically. ¡°Ahem, a priest.¡±


    I narrow my eyes. ¡°A priest?¡±


    Lena snorts. ¡°Yeah, you heard him right. A priest. Funny, huh?¡±


    I fold my arms, my skepticism growing. ¡°A priest that helps criminals suppress demonic energy? Sounds legit.¡±


    Ravyn grins. ¡°Oh, he¡¯s very legit. A real man of faith. Generous, too¡ªas long as the price is right.¡±


    Something tells me this so-called priest is anything but holy. Still, if this means I won¡¯t have to rely on Lena¡¯s temporary fix, it might be worth checking out.


    I let out a slow breath. ¡°Fine. Where do we find this guy?¡±


    Ravyn¡¯s grin widens. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit. Get some rest, newbie. We leave at dawn.¡±


    What Ravyn said sticks in my mind. Will it be safe? I keep thinking about it, turning the idea over and over in my head. A priest that can remove my demonic aura¡­ It sounds too good to be true. And yet, if it works, I wouldn¡¯t have to rely on Lena¡¯s magic or worry about being exposed.


    But I can¡¯t forget why Zareth sent me here.


    To get stronger.


    That part is clear. But everything else? Not so much.


    Should I really help the demons? Or should I help the humans?


    I don¡¯t have an answer. The more I think about it, the more tangled my thoughts become, looping endlessly between doubt and obligation.


    Eventually, my body makes the decision for me. Exhaustion from the fight with that mad demon finally catches up, and before I can think any further¡ª


    I pass out.


    The sound of creaking wood wakes me up. My body aches all over, still sore from the fight. Slowly, I open my eyes¡ªonly to be met with Lena¡¯s face, way too close for comfort.


    Wait.


    I blink. The faint sway of movement, the rhythmic clatter of hooves against dirt¡­ we¡¯re on a wagon. And my head is resting on something soft.


    Hold on¡ª


    I immediately sit up as soon as I realize I was sleeping on Lena¡¯s lap. ¡°W-What the hell?!¡±


    Ravyn, sitting across from us, bursts out laughing. ¡°Hahahaha! Oh man, that was gold! You should¡¯ve seen your face just now!¡±


    I glare at him, still disoriented. ¡°Shut up.¡±


    Lena just sighs, stretching her arms. ¡°You kept mumbling in your sleep. Thought you were having a nightmare.¡±


    I rub my face. ¡°More like a fever dream.¡±


    Ravyn smirks. ¡°Well, dream time¡¯s over. We¡¯re almost at the Holy Kingdom of Sletopia.¡±


    I pause, my mind finally catching up. ¡°Wait, we¡¯re already on the way?¡±


    Lena nods. ¡°You passed out as soon as we left. We figured you needed the rest.¡±


    I exhale, glancing around. The wagon is old and rickety, pulled by two horses. The road ahead stretches into the distance, leading toward towering spires barely visible through the morning mist.


    The Holy Kingdom of Sletopia.


    A place ruled by priests and paladins.


    A place that would probably execute me on the spot if they knew what I really was.


    I tighten my grip on my cloak. This is gonna be fun.


    We all put on our gear and mask''s


    Ravyn speaks up. ¡°Oh yeah.¡± He reaches up and removes his mask, revealing sharp, well-defined features and a cocky grin. ¡°We should take these off. We¡¯ll get killed on the spot if we keep them on.¡±


    I frown, instinctively touching my own mask. ¡°Wait¡­ why?¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t like people who hide their identities,¡± he replies, tossing his mask into the wagon. ¡°The Holy Kingdom¡¯s got strict rules about that. Too many criminals and cultists use masks to avoid being recognized.¡±


    Lena sighs and removes hers as well. ¡°Basically, if you walk in wearing one, you might as well be screaming, ¡®I have something to hide! Please arrest or execute me!¡¯¡±


    I hesitate. Great. Just great.


    Reluctantly, I remove my mask, stuffing it inside my cloak. The air feels colder against my face, and I suddenly feel exposed.


    ¡°Better get used to it,¡± Ravyn says, leaning back with a smirk. ¡°We¡¯re heading straight into enemy territory, newbie.¡±


    I exhale, glancing toward the distant spires of Sletopia. Let¡¯s hope this ¡®priest¡¯ of his is worth the risk.


    Mark speaks up, his deep voice breaking the steady rhythm of the wagon wheels. ¡°We¡¯re here.¡±


    Ravyn claps his hands together, a wide grin spreading across his face. ¡°Ah, my old friend! We¡¯re gonna meet again!¡±


    I glance at him. ¡°Are you talking about the priest?¡±


    He rolls his eyes. ¡°Duh, are you dumb or something?¡±


    ¡°Huh?! I was just asking¡ª¡±


    Before I can finish, he suddenly shushes me, holding up a hand. ¡°Shhh. The line¡¯s too long. Is there an event or something?¡±


    I frown and peek out from the wagon. The road leading to Sletopia¡¯s massive gates is packed with wagons and travelers, all waiting to enter. The sheer number of people here is overwhelming¡ªtraders, pilgrims, and adventurers, all stuck in the slow-moving line.


    Then, suddenly, a golden carriage beaming with divine radiance glides past us, escorted by armored knights. It doesn¡¯t stop. It doesn¡¯t wait. It moves straight toward the entrance, and the massive gates part for it without hesitation.


    Lena whistles. ¡°Must be someone important.¡±


    I watch as the carriage vanishes into the city. Great. Not only do we have to wait, but we¡¯re also in a kingdom full of people who¡¯d love to kill me.


    I sigh, leaning back. ¡°So¡­ how long are we gonna be stuck here?¡±


    Ravyn groans. ¡°Long enough to make me regret coming.¡±


    After what feels like an eternity, we¡¯ve barely moved. If there were ten wagons in front of us earlier, now there¡¯s maybe seven.


    Ravyn groans loudly before finally snapping. ¡°God dammit! This is taking too long! Do they want to die or something?!¡±


    A few people in the nearby wagons turn to look at him, some annoyed, others wary.


    Lena sighs. ¡°Ravyn, shut up before you get us thrown in jail before we even get inside.¡±


    He throws his hands up. ¡°I¡¯m just saying! What the hell is taking so long? At this rate, I¡¯ll die of boredom before we even meet the priest.¡±


    I lean back against the wagon. ¡°Welcome to bureaucracy.¡±


    Mark, who¡¯s been quiet this whole time, simply crosses his arms and mutters, ¡°Patience.¡±


    Ravyn groans even louder, slumping dramatically. ¡°Ugh, fine. But if we¡¯re still here in an hour, I¡¯m storming in.¡±


    Lena smirks. ¡°Right. You go ahead and do that. Let me know how long it takes for the paladins to skewer you.¡±


    Ravyn grumbles something under his breath but doesn¡¯t argue.


    I exhale, watching as the line barely moves forward. This is going to be a long day¡­


    And finally, after what seems like a lifetime, we¡¯re now in front of the gate.


    The towering walls of Sletopia loom over us, pristine white stone gleaming under the sunlight. Massive iron gates stand open, guarded by heavily armed knights in polished silver armor, their tabards bearing the sigil of the Holy Kingdom.


    Just as we¡¯re about to move forward, two knights step in front of the wagon, raising their hands to halt us. Their armor is pristine¡ªfar too expensive for ordinary guards.


    ¡°Reason for entry?¡± one of them asks, his voice sharp and authoritative.


    Ravyn leans forward with his signature smirk. ¡°Pilgrimage.¡±


    The knight stares at him, unimpressed.


    Lena elbows him in the ribs before sighing. ¡°We¡¯re travelers here for trade and worship. We have business with the church.¡±


    The knight glances at all of us, his gaze lingering on me for a second longer than I¡¯d like. I keep my expression neutral, but my muscles tense under his scrutiny.


    ¡°Papers?¡± he demands.


    Ravyn casually pulls out a rolled-up document from his coat and hands it over. The knight takes it, unrolling it carefully before passing it to the other guard. They exchange glances, seemingly checking for anything suspicious.


    I hold my breath. If anything seems off, we¡¯re screwed.


    After a painfully long silence, the first knight finally nods. ¡°You may enter.¡±


    The gates creak open, and our wagon slowly rolls forward into the Holy Kingdom of Sletopia.


    As the wagon rolls past the towering gates, I feel an uneasy weight settle in my chest. We made it inside, but that doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re safe.


    The Holy Kingdom of Sletopia is nothing like I expected. The streets are wide and immaculate, paved with smooth white stone. Towering buildings with intricate golden inlays stretch toward the sky, their stained-glass windows glimmering under the sunlight. Priests and paladins walk among the citizens, their flowing robes and polished armor giving them an air of divine authority.


    But the most unsettling part?


    The people.


    Unlike the bustling, chaotic marketplaces of normal cities, Sletopia¡¯s citizens move in an eerie order. No one shouts, no one pushes past each other, and there¡¯s an unnatural stillness in the air. It feels too... perfect. Too controlled.


    Lena lets out a low whistle. ¡°Still creepy as ever.¡±


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Ravyn leans back, stretching his arms. ¡°Ahh, good old Sletopia! The city where if you sneeze too loud, a priest will probably bless you to death!¡±


    I shift uncomfortably. ¡°You sure your ¡®friend¡¯ is actually here?¡±


    Ravyn grins. ¡°Oh, he¡¯s here, alright. But first, we need to lose any unwanted attention.¡±


    I glance around. The paladins stationed at street corners are already eyeing our wagon with mild interest. Yeah, we stand out.


    Ravyn turns to Mark. ¡°Time for Plan B.¡±


    Mark simply nods, then grabs the reins and steers the wagon into a side street. Within seconds, we slip away from the main road, weaving through smaller, less crowded paths.


    ¡°Where exactly are we going?¡± I ask.


    Ravyn chuckles. ¡°To church, of course.¡±


    I blink. ¡°Huh?¡±


    Lena smirks. ¡°You heard him. We¡¯re meeting a priest, right? Where else would he be?¡±


    I have a bad feeling about this.


    The wagon comes to a stop in front of a smaller, older chapel tucked away in a quiet district. Unlike the grand cathedrals lining the city¡¯s main roads, this one looks... worn. The once-pristine stone is cracked, and the golden engravings are faded. The holy symbols above the door are chipped, as if someone tried to scrape them away.


    Ravyn hops off the wagon and stretches. ¡°Ah, home sweet home!¡±


    I stare at him. ¡°This is the place?¡±


    He turns to me, grinning. ¡°What, were you expecting some grand cathedral?¡±


    Lena steps down next. ¡°Come on, newbie. Time to meet the most unholy holy man in the kingdom.¡±


    I sigh and follow. I swear, if this priest turns out to be just as insane as these guys, I¡¯m walking out.


    With that thought, we step inside.


    As we step inside the chapel, I immediately notice two things.


    One: It¡¯s way dustier than any holy place should be. The air is thick with the scent of old parchment, melted wax, and¡­ is that cheap perfume?


    Two: There¡¯s a man standing at the altar, humming to himself as he polishes a golden chalice. He¡¯s tall and lean, wearing the usual priestly robes¡ªbut they¡¯re slightly disheveled, the top buttons undone like he¡¯s trying to look holy but also just rolled out of bed. His long, wavy brown hair falls over his face, but when he hears us enter, he flips it back dramatically.


    Then he sees Lena.


    And his entire demeanor changes.


    His eyes widen. His lips part. The chalice slips from his hands, clanking loudly onto the floor.


    ¡°L-Lena?!¡± His voice cracks mid-sentence. He practically glides forward, his arms open as if expecting a hug¡ªor a full-blown marriage proposal. ¡°My radiant goddess! You grace my humble home once more!¡±


    Lena groans, rubbing her temples. ¡°Great. I forgot how much I hate this part.¡±


    I watch in horror as the priest drops to his knees in front of her, grabbing her hands like she just descended from heaven itself. His eyes shine with pure, unfiltered devotion. ¡°Oh, how cruel the fates must be, to keep us apart for so long! Every moment without you is like¡ªlike¡ª¡± He gasps dramatically. ¡°A thousand years of suffering!¡±


    Ravyn smirks, crossing his arms. ¡°Still down bad as ever, huh, Father Gabriel?¡±


    The priest¡ªFather Gabriel, apparently¡ªsnaps his head toward Ravyn, his expression darkening instantly. ¡°Oh. It¡¯s you.¡±


    The sheer venom in his voice makes it sound like Ravyn personally burned down his house.


    Ravyn shrugs. ¡°Missed you too, buddy.¡±


    Gabriel huffs before turning back to Lena, his lovestruck gaze returning instantly. ¡°Oh, my sweet midnight rose! Have you finally come to accept my heart? To say those three beautiful words?¡±


    Lena sighs. ¡°Yeah. Fix. His. Aura.¡± She jerks a thumb at me.


    Gabriel finally acknowledges my existence¡ªand the change is instant. His face twists into something downright hostile. His eyes narrow as he looks me up and down, as if trying to determine if I deserve to breathe the same air as Lena.


    ¡°And who is this?¡± he asks coldly.


    I blink. ¡°Uh¡­ Eli?¡±


    Gabriel leans in, his smile strained. ¡°Eli.¡± He says my name like it personally offended him. ¡°And what, pray tell, is your relationship with my Lena?¡±


    I blink again. ¡°Uh¡ªyour Lena?¡±


    Lena pinches the bridge of her nose. ¡°Gabriel, we¡¯ve talked about this. So many times.¡±


    Gabriel ignores her, his glare intensifying as he grabs my shoulders and shakes me. ¡°Answer me, mortal! Are you her beloved?! Have you stolen her heart while I toiled away in loneliness?!¡±


    ¡°What?! No!¡± I stammer, trying to pry him off. ¡°I barely know her! And you¡¯re shaking me too hard¡ª¡±


    He releases me dramatically, clutching his chest. ¡°Ah. A coward¡¯s answer!¡±


    Ravyn, meanwhile, is leaning against a pillar, laughing his ass off. ¡°Oh, this is so worth the trip.¡±


    Lena sighs and grabs Gabriel by the collar, shaking him this time. ¡°Enough. I need you to fix his aura before the paladins sniff him out and kill all of us. Can you do that, or do I have to find someone else?¡±


    Gabriel gasps. ¡°Oh, my ruthless angel! You wound me!¡± He places a hand over his heart, pretending to stagger back like she just stabbed him. ¡°Of course, I shall aid you. I would move heaven and earth for you! I would fight an army! I would¡ª¡±


    ¡°Gabriel.¡± Lena¡¯s voice is dangerously low.


    He straightens immediately. ¡°Right. Fixing the aura. Of course.¡±


    He clears his throat and gestures toward the altar. ¡°Come forth, Eli. Let me rid you of your filthy, disgusting, absolutely horrid demonic stench.¡±


    I hesitate. ¡°You could¡¯ve left out those last few words.¡±


    ¡°Not really, no.¡±


    I sigh, stepping forward. This guy better not kill me out of jealousy.


    Father Gabriel grabs a large, ornate cross from the altar and holds it high above his head. His eyes flutter shut as he begins muttering a string of prayers under his breath. The air around him feels heavier, thick with mana, as if he¡¯s actually channeling divine energy.


    I shift uncomfortably. What is this? An exorcism?


    He suddenly throws holy water at me.


    ¡°ACK¡ªWHAT THE HELL?!¡± I stumble back, shaking the water off my face.


    Gabriel gasps, pointing at me like he just confirmed some terrible truth. ¡°The unholy one recoils from blessed water! Truly, a wretched demon walks among us!¡±


    I groan. ¡°I recoiled because you just threw cold water in my face, you lunatic!¡±


    Lena sighs. ¡°Gabriel, stop being dramatic and just fix his aura.¡±


    He grumbles under his breath but obeys, reluctantly lowering the cross. He presses two fingers to my forehead and begins chanting¡ªactual magic this time, not just theatrical nonsense. A warm sensation spreads through my body, and I can feel something shifting, as if my very essence is being veiled by divine energy.


    I exhale, the weight on my chest slowly lifting. Huh. This might actually work.


    Meanwhile, Ravyn is still chuckling in the background, clearly enjoying my suffering. ¡°You¡¯re handling this better than I expected, newbie.¡±


    I roll my eyes, wiping the holy water off my face. I hope Porky¡¯s doing better than I am.


    Meanwhile...


    Porky was, in fact, thriving.


    While I was getting drenched in holy water and nearly exorcised, my oversized, drooling companion had somehow found himself in the middle of a feast.


    The moment we entered Sletopia, some kind-hearted priests (or maybe just really gullible ones) took one look at Porky¡¯s massive size and assumed he was a sacred beast. They had no idea he was just a giant, gluttonous boar who would eat literally anything.


    And so, while I suffered, Porky sat comfortably in a courtyard surrounded by priests who were feeding him fruits, vegetables, and even freshly baked bread.


    "Truly, a divine creature!" one priest marveled, stroking his beard.


    "Indeed!" another agreed. "He must have been sent by the heavens to test our generosity!"


    Porky, blissfully unaware of his newfound holy status, simply snorted and inhaled an entire basket of apples.


    The priests gasped in awe.


    "Look at his divine appetite!"


    "Such a blessed beast! We must continue to provide for him!"


    Porky let out a loud, satisfied burp.


    "Amen," one priest whispered in reverence.


    Back to Me...


    I don¡¯t know what compelled me to think about Porky at that moment, but I felt a deep, nagging suspicion that my boar was doing much better than I was.


    Gabriel finally pulls his fingers away from my forehead, sighing dramatically. ¡°It is done.¡±


    I blink, shaking off the strange warmth that had settled over me. I focus for a moment, testing my senses. My demonic aura feels... hidden. It¡¯s still there, but far more suppressed than before.


    Lena nods in approval. ¡°Good. That should keep him from getting burned at the stake.¡±


    Gabriel crosses his arms. ¡°Of course! I am a master of my craft! A miracle worker! The most talented, most devoted, most¡ª¡±


    Lena claps a hand over his mouth. ¡°Yeah, yeah, thanks, Gabriel.¡±


    Ravyn, still grinning, elbows me. ¡°So, how do you feel?¡±


    I take a deep breath. ¡°Like I hopefully won¡¯t die the second a priest looks at me.¡±


    Gabriel suddenly rips Lena¡¯s hand off his mouth and glares at me. ¡°I hope you appreciate this, you filthy heathen. This spell is a masterpiece, and yet, I had to waste it on you.¡±


    I sigh. ¡°Yeah, thanks, I feel so blessed.¡±


    Gabriel huffs but then dramatically throws an arm over Lena¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Now, my beloved! Will you finally accept my love as payment for my divine services?¡±


    Lena wordlessly kicks him in the shin.


    Gabriel collapses to the floor in pain. ¡°My soul weeps¡­¡±


    I pinch the bridge of my nose. ¡°Can we leave now?¡±


    Ravyn laughs. ¡°Oh, not yet. Now we get to rob a noble.¡±


    I stare at him. ¡°What?¡±


    Ravyn grins. ¡°What, you thought we¡¯d come all this way just for church?¡±


    I groan. I really, really hope Porky¡¯s having a worse time than me.


    Porky had just been crowned a holy beast by the temple.


    I crouch behind a stone wall, my hood pulled low as I watch the grand estate in front of us. The noble¡¯s mansion is massive, its towering walls lined with golden lanterns that flicker against the night sky. Armed guards patrol the perimeter, their polished armor glinting under the moonlight.


    We¡¯re really doing this, huh?


    ¡°This is a terrible idea,¡± I mutter.


    ¡°Oh, definitely,¡± Ravyn replies cheerfully, crouched beside me. ¡°But terrible ideas are the most fun.¡±


    I exhale sharply, turning to him. ¡°Alright, so what¡¯s the plan? Sneak in? Bribe a guard? Maybe, I don¡¯t know, not commit a crime?¡±


    Ravyn pats my shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, newbie. We have a foolproof strategy.¡±


    Lena, crouched on my other side, smirks. ¡°We break in through the second-floor balcony, steal the goods, and get out.¡±


    I stare at her. Then at Ravyn. Then back at her.


    ¡°That¡¯s it? That¡¯s your ¡®foolproof¡¯ strategy?¡±


    Ravyn nods. ¡°Yup!¡±


    I rub my face. ¡°Do you guys even know what¡¯s inside the mansion?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± Ravyn admits. ¡°But that¡¯s what makes it exciting!¡±


    I¡¯m going to die with these people.


    Mark, who¡¯s been silent this whole time, suddenly steps forward. ¡°Less talking. More moving.¡±


    He lifts a massive grappling hook with one hand and hurls it up toward the balcony. It hooks onto the railing with a loud clank.


    I freeze. ¡°That was loud.¡±


    Lena shrugs. ¡°Eh, the guards are drunk. They won¡¯t notice.¡±


    As if on cue, a nearby guard leans against the wall, taking a long, exaggerated sip from his flask. After a few seconds, he lets out a deep, satisfied sigh¡­ and promptly collapses face-first onto the grass.


    ¡°¡­Huh.¡± I blink. ¡°Okay, never mind.¡±


    ¡°See?¡± Ravyn grins. ¡°Foolproof.¡±


    Lena starts climbing up first, moving with practiced ease. Mark follows, silent as ever. I hesitate for a second, then glance at Ravyn.


    ¡°You go first,¡± I say.


    He chuckles. ¡°What, scared?¡±


    ¡°No, I just don¡¯t trust you not to kick me off the rope for fun.¡±


    ¡°¡­Fair.¡± He climbs up.


    I take a deep breath, shake my head, and start climbing. This is so, so stupid.


    The moment I step onto the balcony, Ravyn pulls me down behind a large pillar. ¡°Shh,¡± he whispers, eyes gleaming with excitement. ¡°The real fun starts now.¡±


    Lena kneels near a window, peeking inside. ¡°Looks like a study. No guards.¡±


    Mark silently moves forward and punches the lock. The entire thing shatters.


    I blink. ¡°Subtle.¡±


    We slip inside, and I get my first good look at the place. The study is huge, with bookshelves lining the walls, a fireplace still faintly glowing with embers, and a desk covered in expensive trinkets and papers.


    Ravyn rubs his hands together. ¡°Alright, loot time.¡±


    Lena starts rummaging through drawers. Mark examines a chest in the corner. Ravyn pockets an entire golden inkstand.


    Meanwhile, I just stand there.


    What the hell am I even doing?


    I was summoned by a Demon Lord. Trained to fight. Sent to get stronger. And now I¡¯m robbing some rich guy¡¯s house with a group of professional criminals.


    I sigh. ¡°This wasn¡¯t in the hero¡¯s journey.¡±


    Ravyn tosses me a small pouch. ¡°Quit monologuing and grab something. We don¡¯t have all night.¡±


    I roll my eyes and start looking through the desk drawers. Coins, documents, some weird crystal paperweight¡ª


    Then I spot something.


    A sealed letter with a wax crest. The symbol is unfamiliar, but something about it feels¡­ off.


    Before I can think too much about it, a voice echoes through the halls.


    ¡°Who¡¯s there?!¡±


    We all freeze.


    Lena curses under her breath. ¡°Time to go.¡±


    The sound of rushed footsteps gets closer.


    Mark grabs the nearest sack of loot. Ravyn kicks open the window. Lena leaps onto the rope.


    I barely have time to pocket the letter before Ravyn shoves me out the window.


    The last thing I hear before I hit the rope is a loud, irritated voice shouting¡ª


    ¡°THE HOLY BEAST HAS ESCAPED!¡±


    ¡­Wait.


    Porky?!


    Somewhere inside the mansion, absolute chaos had erupted.


    Porky¡ªmy glorious, gluttonous companion¡ªwas on the run.


    Apparently, the noble had also mistaken him for a holy beast.


    How did this happen? Simple.


    Porky, being the massive, food-obsessed menace that he is, had somehow wandered into the mansion¡¯s lavish dining hall. The servants, thinking he was some sort of divine creature, had offered him a feast.


    Porky, naturally, accepted.


    One plate turned into two. Two turned into twelve.


    By the time the noble himself arrived, Porky was passed out in the middle of the table, surrounded by nothing but empty platters and crumbs.


    The noble¡ªsome pompous-looking guy in ridiculous golden robes¡ªhad collapsed to his knees in horror.


    ¡°MY ROYAL BANQUET!¡±


    But before anyone could react, Porky suddenly woke up.


    His tiny, beady eyes locked onto a fresh, untouched cake at the other end of the room.


    And just like that¡ª


    The Great Porky Chase began.


    I barely manage to hold onto the rope as I slide down, my heart pounding.


    Shouts echo from inside the mansion. The guards are fully awake now. The sound of plates crashing, furniture breaking, and people screaming is mixed in with one very familiar, very loud boar snort.


    Ravyn lands beside me with a huge grin. ¡°Hahahaha! What the hell is going on in there?!¡±


    Lena lands next, rolling her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t know, and I don¡¯t care. We need to move.¡±


    Mark drops down without a rope like a damn mountain falling from the sky. He straightens up, completely unfazed. ¡°Go.¡±


    We break into a sprint, dashing through the noble¡¯s manicured gardens toward the outer wall.


    Then, just as we reach our escape route¡ª


    BOOM.


    The doors of the mansion burst open.


    A blur of pink and brown comes charging toward us.


    My brain barely has time to process the ungodly noise that follows.


    ¡°SKRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!¡±


    I turn my head just in time to see Porky, covered in cake and expensive tablecloths, barreling straight toward us like a divine pig-shaped meteor.


    And behind him?


    AT LEAST TWENTY GUARDS.


    ¡°CATCH THE BEAST!¡± one of them screams.


    ¡°IT ATE THE SACRED FRUIT!¡± another wails.


    ¡°SOMEONE STOP IT!¡±


    I don¡¯t even have time to react before Porky SLAMS INTO ME.


    I go flying.


    Lena barely dodges. Ravyn is laughing so hard he can¡¯t breathe.


    I hit the ground hard, and before I can even process my own suffering, Porky is already back on his feet, sprinting for the exit.


    Ravyn gasps between laughs. ¡°OH¡ªOH MY GOD¡ªTHE HOLY BEAST HAS FALLEN TO DARKNESS¡ª¡±


    Lena grabs him by the collar and drags him forward. ¡°RUN, YOU IDIOT!¡±


    I scramble up, chasing after Porky.


    Mark is already kicking down part of the outer wall like it¡¯s made of paper. He gestures at us. ¡°Through.¡±


    We leap through the hole just as the guards reach the garden.


    A few arrows whizz past us.


    I swear I hear the noble screaming about divine judgment.


    And just like that¡ª


    We escape.


    Panting, covered in dirt, cake, and regret, we finally come to a stop in a dark alley.


    For a long moment, nobody speaks.


    Then Ravyn just¡­ collapses against a wall, wheezing with laughter.


    Lena groans. ¡°I can¡¯t believe we just pulled off a heist¡­ and the most wanted thing in that mansion ended up being a freaking boar.¡±


    I, still recovering from getting bulldozed by Porky, glare at him.


    Porky, sitting happily beside a stolen basket of grapes, just snorts.


    I point at him, wheezing. ¡°Never¡­ again¡­¡±


    Ravyn, still laughing, wipes a tear from his eye. ¡°Ohhh, man. I take it back, newbie. You¡¯re fun to have around.¡±


    I groan. ¡°Someone kill me.¡±


    Lena pats my back. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. There¡¯s always next time.¡±


    I stare at her. ¡°That¡¯s the opposite of comforting.¡±


    She smirks. ¡°Exactly.¡±


    And just like that¡ª


    I realize I¡¯m never escaping these lunatics.


    I stare at Ravyn, who¡¯s still on the ground, wheezing with laughter. His entire body shakes as he gasps for air, completely useless.


    I hold up the bounty poster with Porky¡¯s face on it. ¡°Why. Did. We. Even. Rob. That. Noble?¡±


    Ravyn wipes a tear from his eye, still grinning. ¡°Oh, c¡¯mon, newbie, look at this! This is comedy gold!¡±


    I don¡¯t laugh. ¡°I thought we don¡¯t rob without reason.¡±


    Lena, sitting on a crate and inspecting a gold necklace she "acquired," glances at me. ¡°Normally, yeah. We don¡¯t steal for fun.¡±


    I gesture wildly at everything that just happened. ¡°That sure didn¡¯t feel like a serious mission!¡±


    Ravyn finally calms down enough to talk. He sits up, stretching. ¡°Alright, alright, I¡¯ll explain.¡±


    He leans back against the wall, grinning. ¡°That noble? Baron Callis Evendawn. He¡¯s not just some rich snob. He¡¯s got deep ties with the Church and funds a lot of their ¡®demon-hunting¡¯ programs.¡±


    I frown. ¡°So he¡¯s anti-demon?¡±


    Lena snorts. ¡°Understatement. He funds priests who experiment on people they suspect of being ¡®tainted.¡¯¡±


    I tense at that. ¡°Experiment?¡±


    Ravyn nods. ¡°Yup. Anyone who might have demonic blood? They get ¡®cleansed.¡¯ And let¡¯s just say their idea of purification isn¡¯t exactly gentle.¡±


    I swallow hard. ¡°And you didn¡¯t think to mention this before we broke in?¡±


    Ravyn shrugs. ¡°Would it have changed anything?¡±


    I open my mouth. Close it. ¡­Okay, fair point.


    Lena smirks. ¡°Besides, we got something really valuable.¡±


    She tosses me a sealed letter¡ªthe one I grabbed from the noble¡¯s study.


    I blink. ¡°What is this?¡±


    ¡°No idea,¡± she says. ¡°But nobles don¡¯t seal letters unless they¡¯re important. Might be dirt on Evendawn. Might be something bigger.¡±


    Ravyn leans in, his grin widening. ¡°You up for a little detective work, newbie?¡±


    I stare at the letter. Then at them. Then at Porky, who is still happily chewing on stolen grapes like he didn¡¯t just ruin a noble¡¯s life.


    I sigh. ¡°Why do I feel like this is only going to get worse?¡±


    Lena chuckles. ¡°Because it is.¡±


    Ravyn claps me on the back. ¡°Welcome to the fun side of crime, newbie.¡±


    I groan. I should¡¯ve just stayed unconscious.

 Chapter 7: Valen Mordane!!

    We all reluctantly stare at the letter, the weight of our latest mistake settling in.


    Ravyn tilts his head, grinning. ¡°So, who¡¯s gonna open it?¡±


    Before anyone can even answer, he grabs the letter and rips the seal open.


    Lena sighs. ¡°What¡¯s the point of asking if you¡¯re just gonna do it anyway?¡±


    Ravyn ignores her, unfolding the parchment. His smirk fades almost immediately, his eyes scanning the contents with surprising focus.


    I don¡¯t like that look.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I ask.


    Ravyn doesn¡¯t answer at first. Instead, he clears his throat and reads aloud:


    Confidential Letter ¨C Eyes Only


    From the Office of Baron Callis Evendawn


    Holy Kingdom of Sletopia


    To Grand Inquisitor Valen Mordane,


    The situation is deteriorating faster than expected. Our sources confirm that an unidentified faction is moving against us, disrupting Church operations and interfering with our demon purification efforts. Their exact motives remain unclear, but their influence is spreading.


    As per our agreement, I expect you to handle this personally. The Evendawn Inquisitors exist for this very purpose¡ªensure they are reminded of their true purpose.


    Additionally, preparations for the "Grand Invocation" are nearly complete. The Saintess remains unaware of the finer details, as per our arrangement. When the time comes, she will serve as the catalyst.


    Continue to silence anyone who asks too many questions. The Light must prevail¡ªat any cost.


    Signed,


    Baron Callis Evendawn


    (Stamped with the golden sun insignia of House Evendawn.)


    A heavy silence follows.


    I stare at the letter, my brain trying to process what I just heard. ¡°...Okay. That definitely doesn¡¯t sound good.¡±


    Lena frowns, arms crossed. ¡°The hell is the ¡®Grand Invocation¡¯?¡±


    Mark remains silent, his expression unreadable.


    Ravyn whistles, flipping the letter over. ¡°No idea. But I do know one thing.¡±


    I hesitate. ¡°What?¡±


    He grins. ¡°We just stole something very, very important.¡±


    Lena groans. ¡°Great. Because we weren¡¯t already in enough trouble.¡±


    I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. ¡°So, just to summarize¡ªwe robbed a noble¡¯s house, turned a pig into a holy fugitive, and now we¡¯re in possession of a top-secret letter about some kind of massive Church conspiracy?¡±


    Ravyn claps me on the back. ¡°You¡¯re catching on quick, newbie.¡±


    I groan. I am going to die.


    What a cool side quest. It¡¯s like those books I¡¯ve read.


    I scratch my head. ¡°I¡¯m guessing we won¡¯t be leaving anytime soon.¡± I glance at Ravyn. ¡°So, how exactly are we gonna find out where this ¡®Grand Invocation¡¯ is happening?¡±


    Ravyn taps the letter, grinning. ¡°Well, lucky for us, high-ranking nobles and inquisitors don¡¯t just scribble down top-secret doomsday plans on paper.¡± He flips the parchment over. ¡°Buuut they do leave breadcrumbs.¡±


    Lena raises an eyebrow. ¡°Meaning?¡±


    He smirks. ¡°Meaning we don¡¯t need to find the Grand Invocation¡ªwe just need to find the Grand Inquisitor.¡±


    I frown. ¡°The guy this letter was meant for?¡±


    Mark nods. ¡°Valen Mordane.¡±


    The name sits wrong. Maybe it¡¯s the way Mark says it. Maybe it¡¯s because anyone with ¡°Grand Inquisitor¡± as their title is probably not someone I want to meet.


    Lena crosses her arms. ¡°Tracking an Inquisitor isn¡¯t exactly easy. These guys don¡¯t exactly host tea parties in public squares.¡±


    Ravyn hums, thinking. ¡°True, true¡­ But we do know where a certain overdramatic priest lives.¡±


    I blink. ¡°Wait. You mean¡ª?¡±


    Lena groans. ¡°Oh, gods. Not Gabriel again.¡±


    Ravyn grins. ¡°Come on! If anyone has dirt on the Inquisition, it¡¯s a rogue priest who¡¯s definitely been blacklisted by them.¡±


    I sigh. ¡°Why do I feel like this is going to be another terrible idea?¡±


    Lena shrugs. ¡°Because it is.¡±


    Ravyn claps his hands together. ¡°Alright, then! Next stop: annoying Gabriel until he spills some holy secrets!¡±


    Fantastic. Another visit to the most jealous priest in existence.


    I regret everything.


    The moment we step inside the chapel, Gabriel¡¯s eyes lock onto Lena. His whole body stiffens like he¡¯s been struck by divine revelation.


    Then, in true Gabriel fashion, he dramatically throws himself forward, sliding on his knees like a man begging for salvation.


    ¡°My beloved Lena! You have returned to me once more!¡± He grabs her hand like a desperate lover. ¡°Tell me, have you finally come to accept our destined love?¡±


    Lena yanks her hand away immediately. ¡°No.¡±


    Gabriel clutches his chest like she just stabbed him through the heart. ¡°A cruel rejection! And yet¡­ how radiant you are in your defiance!¡±


    I lean toward Ravyn. ¡°Are we sure this guy is actually a priest?¡±


    Ravyn grins. ¡°Hard to say.¡±


    Gabriel suddenly turns to me, eyes narrowing. His entire demeanor shifts from pathetic love-struck fool to jealous rival ready to commit homicide.


    ¡°You.¡± His voice is dead serious.


    I blink. ¡°...Me?¡±


    He marches right up to me, grabbing my shoulders. ¡°How dare you return?¡±


    I frown. ¡°What? What did I do?¡±


    Gabriel leans in. ¡°You exist too close to Lena.¡±


    I stare at him, unblinking. ¡°...What.¡±


    Lena rubs her temples. ¡°Gabriel, we didn¡¯t come here for this.¡±


    Gabriel dramatically sighs before finally stepping away. ¡°Very well. What is it you seek from my infinite wisdom?¡±


    Ravyn wastes no time. He holds up the stolen letter. ¡°What do you know about the Grand Invocation?¡±


    The second Gabriel sees the name, his face immediately darkens.


    Silence.


    Lena crosses her arms. ¡°Well?¡±


    Gabriel hesitates. His usual dramatic, lovesick personality completely disappears. He suddenly looks¡­ serious.


    ¡°The Grand Invocation¡­¡± He exhales, rubbing his chin. ¡°Where did you hear of this?¡±


    Ravyn waggles the letter. ¡°Oh, y¡¯know. Just from the desk of Baron Evendawn himself.¡±


    Gabriel snatches the letter from Ravyn¡¯s hand and reads it fast. As his eyes scan the words, his jaw tightens.


    Then, very quietly, he mutters:


    ¡°That bastard¡­ He¡¯s actually going through with it.¡±


    I stiffen. ¡°So you do know something.¡±


    Gabriel hesitates again, his fingers gripping the parchment tightly. Then, after a long pause, he finally speaks.


    ¡°The Grand Invocation¡­ is a ritual.¡±


    I narrow my eyes. ¡°A ritual for what?¡±


    Gabriel looks at me, his usual arrogance gone.


    ¡°For ascension.¡±


    Silence.


    Lena frowns. ¡°Ascension? Into what?¡±


    Gabriel exhales sharply. ¡°That¡­ I do not know. Only the highest-ranking nobles and inquisitors are privy to its full details.¡± He glares at the letter. ¡°But I do know this: it requires a catalyst.¡±


    I suddenly remember a specific line from the letter.


    "The Saintess remains unaware of the finer details, as per our arrangement. When the time comes, she will serve as the catalyst."


    I freeze.


    Lena catches on immediately. ¡°Wait. You don¡¯t mean¡ª¡±


    Gabriel nods grimly. ¡°Yes. The Saintess of Sletopia, Elza Evendawn.¡±


    My stomach drops.


    The Church¡¯s most beloved figure. The symbol of purity and divinity.


    And she¡¯s about to be used in some kind of ascension ritual.


    Ravyn whistles. ¡°Well, that escalated quickly.¡±


    Lena looks at Gabriel, eyes sharp. ¡°If this is true, then why the hell hasn¡¯t anyone stopped it?¡±


    Gabriel scoffs. ¡°Do you have any idea how much power the Evendawn family holds? Their control over the Church? Over the paladins? Over the entire damn kingdom?¡± He shakes his head. ¡°The people wouldn¡¯t believe it. And those who do believe?¡± He gestures vaguely. ¡°Well. They tend to disappear.¡±


    A cold feeling creeps into my chest.


    ¡°So¡­¡± I exhale. ¡°The ¡®Saintess¡¯ has no idea she¡¯s about to be sacrificed.¡±


    Gabriel shrugs. ¡°Maybe. Maybe not.¡± His expression darkens. ¡°But if this letter is accurate¡­ then the Grand Invocation is happening soon.¡±


    I stare at the letter again. What the hell did we just get ourselves into?


    Ravyn grins. ¡°Well! Looks like we¡¯ve got a mystery on our hands.¡±


    I shoot him a look. ¡°This isn¡¯t a mystery novel, Ravyn. This is real life.¡±


    He winks. ¡°All the more reason to play the hero, newbie.¡±


    I groan. ¡°We are literally criminals.¡±


    Lena crosses her arms. ¡°Regardless, if what Gabriel says is true¡­ we have two choices.¡±


    She looks at all of us.


    ¡°One: We ignore this, walk away, and let whatever happens to Elza happen.¡±


    Silence.


    ¡°Or two¡­¡± Her eyes harden.


    ¡°We stop the Grand Invocation.¡±


    The room is silent.


    I take a deep breath. Why do I feel like this just became a main quest?


    I look at Father Gabriel, still trying to wrap my head around everything. ¡°Well, first of all, this Evendawn guy is really shitty for making his own daughter a sacrifice.¡±


    Gabriel scoffs. ¡°Oh, you have no idea.¡±


    I shake my head. ¡°And second¡­ if they need a catalyst to trigger the ritual, that means they¡¯re summoning something, right?¡±


    Gabriel pauses, his expression tightening. ¡°That¡­ would be a logical assumption.¡±


    Lena crosses her arms. ¡°Great. So, what the hell could be so important that they need the Saintess herself to activate it?¡±


    Gabriel lets out a long breath. ¡°That, I do not know. But if it requires a catalyst of divine purity, then whatever they¡¯re trying to summon is something that requires immense holy power.¡±


    I frown. ¡°So, what? An angel?¡±


    Gabriel grimaces. ¡°Possibly. But not just any angel.¡± He glances back at the letter, his fingers gripping it tighter. ¡°There are old records¡ªlong buried by the Church¡ªof higher celestial beings. Entities beyond even the Archangels. Beings whose mere presence could reshape the world.¡±


    Ravyn raises an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re saying they¡¯re trying to summon a god?¡±


    Gabriel doesn¡¯t answer immediately. His silence is more telling than words.


    Lena exhales sharply. ¡°That¡¯s insane. No mortal should be able to summon a god.¡±


    Gabriel nods. ¡°Precisely. Which means whatever Evendawn is doing¡­ is dangerously unnatural.¡±


    I rub my temples. ¡°Fantastic. So not only did we piss off a powerful noble, but now we¡¯re probably tangled in a world-ending ritual.¡±


    Ravyn grins. ¡°Told you this was getting fun.¡±


    I glare at him. ¡°This isn¡¯t fun, Ravyn.¡±


    Mark finally speaks. ¡°Then what¡¯s the next move?¡±


    The room falls silent.


    Lena glances at Gabriel. ¡°You said the ritual is happening soon. How soon?¡±


    Gabriel hesitates. ¡°¡­If the preparations are nearly complete, then I would estimate within the next few weeks.¡±


    My stomach sinks. That¡¯s not a lot of time.


    Lena exhales. ¡°Then we need to move fast. We need a way into Evendawn¡¯s estate, or better yet, straight to Elza herself.¡±


    Gabriel frowns. ¡°Easier said than done. She¡¯s the most protected person in the kingdom. The Evendawn estate is practically a fortress.¡±


    I sigh. ¡°So what, do we just knock on the front door and ask to see her?¡±


    Ravyn suddenly snaps his fingers. ¡°Actually¡­ that¡¯s not a bad idea.¡±


    I blink. ¡°What.¡±


    He smirks. ¡°Why sneak in when we can get invited?¡±


    I stare at him. ¡°And how exactly do we get invited?¡±


    Ravyn leans back, grinning. ¡°Easy. We crash a noble¡¯s party.¡±


    Lena groans. ¡°Oh, gods.¡±


    I sigh. I am going to regret this.


    I look at Ravyn with a stern expression. ¡°Go on.¡±


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Ravyn grins, throwing his arms up. ¡°Ah, come on, don¡¯t you trust me?¡±


    Lena snorts. ¡°No.¡±


    Mark nods. ¡°No.¡±


    I sigh. ¡°Not even a little.¡±


    Ravyn gasps, clutching his chest like we just stabbed him. ¡°You wound me! But fine, I¡¯ll lay it out for you.¡± He straightens up. ¡°First, we need clothes¡ªsomething fancy. Then, we just, y¡¯know... steal invitations from a few noble suckers and walk right in.¡± He shrugs. ¡°Easy.¡±


    He looks around, waiting for approval.


    I grab his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. ¡°At least you have a plan now.¡±


    He chuckles. ¡°Of course I do. I¡¯m the leader of The Grave Walkers, after all!¡±


    I stare at him. ¡°Yeah, you didn¡¯t have to scream our group name out loud.¡±


    Lena groans. ¡°Not cool.¡±


    Mark sighs. ¡°Not stealthy.¡±


    Father Gabriel¡ªwho had been quietly watching all this¡ªsuddenly bursts out laughing.


    ¡°Pft¡ªhahahahaha! Grave Walkers?¡± He doubles over, wheezing. ¡°That¡¯s your group¡¯s name?! What are you, a bunch of brooding mercenaries writing poetry about death?¡±


    Ravyn glares at him. ¡°Excuse me?! That name has history! It carries weight!¡±


    Gabriel wipes a tear from his eye. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Weight like a bad tragedy play.¡±


    Lena grins. ¡°I mean, he¡¯s not wrong.¡±


    I cross my arms, smirking. ¡°Sounds like something a dramatic bard would come up with.¡±


    Ravyn looks absolutely offended. ¡°You¡ª I¡ª We¡ª¡± He dramatically points at Gabriel. ¡°You just don¡¯t appreciate branding.¡±


    Gabriel chuckles, waving him off. ¡°Whatever you say, ¡®oh mighty leader of the Edgy Walkers.¡¯¡±


    Ravyn grumbles something under his breath while Lena and I try not to laugh.


    Finally, I sigh. ¡°Alright, fine. We¡¯re really doing this, huh?¡±


    Lena shrugs. ¡°Apparently.¡±


    Mark nods. ¡°We need disguises.¡±


    Ravyn claps his hands together, immediately snapping out of his sulking. ¡°Right! Fancy clothes, stolen invitations, and then we party with the nobles.¡±


    I shake my head. ¡°This is gonna be a disaster.¡±


    Gabriel smirks. ¡°Oh, definitely. But hey¡ªat least you¡¯ll look good while ruining everything.¡±


    Then, without missing a beat, he waves us off. ¡°Now, get out of my church if you have nothing else to say.¡±


    I blink. ¡°Wait, aren¡¯t you gonna help us?¡±


    Gabriel freezes.


    His expression immediately shifts into pure, unfiltered rage. His face turns so red it looks like a tomato that just exploded.


    ¡°WHY WOULD I HELP YOU?!¡± He gestures wildly at me. ¡°DO YOU THINK YOU¡¯RE MY EMPRESS LENA?!¡±


    Lena groans. ¡°Oh for the love of¡ªGabriel, shut up.¡±


    He dramatically crosses his arms, pouting. ¡°I refuse! My divine loyalty belongs to my one true goddess!¡±


    I stare at him. ¡°...You are not normal.¡±


    Gabriel ignores me. ¡°Besides!¡± He scoffs. ¡°If I go anywhere near that noble gathering, I¡¯ll probably get killed on sight.¡±


    I frown. ¡°Why?¡±


    He raises an eyebrow. ¡°Do you have any idea how many inquisitors want my head? I¡¯m basically a heretic in their eyes!¡± He flips his hair dramatically. ¡°A handsome, intelligent, irresistible heretic¡ªbut a heretic nonetheless.¡±


    Ravyn grins. ¡°Well, that¡¯s what happens when you call a high priest an ¡®old fart with a stick up his ass¡¯ in public.¡±


    Gabriel scoffs. ¡°That man had it coming.¡±


    Lena shakes her head. ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll do it ourselves. Not like you¡¯d be useful anyway.¡±


    Gabriel gasps, clutching his chest. ¡°How dare you?!¡±


    I sigh. ¡°Alright, we¡¯re really wasting time here.¡±


    Gabriel waves us off again. ¡°Yes, yes, go, go, be reckless criminals elsewhere! And if you somehow survive, don¡¯t come back bleeding all over my floors.¡±


    I roll my eyes and start heading for the door. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get this over with.¡±


    The streets of Sletopia are quieter at night, but not empty. The occasional lantern flickers, casting long shadows across the polished stone roads. Despite the risk of running into patrolling guards, we walk openly¡ªdressed in simple cloaks to avoid drawing attention.


    We stop in front of a high-end tailor shop, the kind that only serves nobles and merchants with too much money.


    Ravyn claps his hands. ¡°Alright! Time to spend our totally legally acquired fortune.¡±


    Lena rolls her eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s just get this over with.¡±


    We step inside, and immediately, the air shifts.


    The place is way too fancy. Silk curtains hang from the ceiling, golden embroidery decorates the furniture, and the overwhelming scent of expensive perfume makes my nose itch.


    A middle-aged tailor, dressed in flawless robes, raises an eyebrow as he approaches us. He looks us up and down like we just dragged mud across his pristine floors.


    ¡°Yes?¡± His voice is soaked in judgment.


    Ravyn grins, tossing a heavy coin pouch onto the counter. It lands with a satisfying jingle.


    ¡°We need clothes.¡±


    The tailor¡¯s entire attitude shifts instantly. His eyes widen, and suddenly, we¡¯re worthy of his time.


    ¡°Ah! But of course, esteemed guests!¡± He bows slightly. ¡°What style are you looking for?¡±


    Lena crosses her arms. ¡°Something noble-looking. Dresses, suits, cloaks. Enough to pass as high society.¡±


    The tailor nods eagerly. ¡°Ah, a fine choice! You wish to attend one of the grand gatherings, I assume?¡±


    Ravyn smirks. ¡°Something like that.¡±


    The tailor snaps his fingers, and a swarm of assistants appear out of nowhere, immediately dragging us toward different sections of the shop.


    I don¡¯t know how it happens, but within minutes, I¡¯m standing in front of a mirror wearing some of the most expensive clothes I¡¯ve ever seen.


    A dark, well-fitted noble coat, a high-collared shirt, and formal gloves¡ªit¡¯s way fancier than anything I¡¯m used to.


    Lena steps out of the dressing room wearing an elegant black and crimson gown with silver embroidery. She tugs at the fabric, looking mildly irritated.


    ¡°This feels weird,¡± she mutters.


    Ravyn, of course, is thriving. He spins in place, admiring his deep red noble jacket lined with gold. ¡°Oh, I could get used to this.¡±


    Mark, the mountain of muscle that he is, wears a dark coat with silver trim, looking like a walking fortress. He doesn¡¯t react much¡ªprobably because he doesn¡¯t care.


    I adjust my collar uncomfortably. ¡°Do we really need to go all out?¡±


    Lena sighs. ¡°We¡¯re pretending to be nobles. If we look even slightly out of place, we¡¯re screwed.¡±


    Ravyn grins. ¡°Exactly! We have to own it, newbie. Nobles don¡¯t dress up¡ªthey become the outfit.¡±


    I glare at him. ¡°That¡¯s the dumbest thing I¡¯ve ever heard.¡±


    The tailor claps his hands together. ¡°You all look magnificent! With these outfits, you shall be the stars of the evening!¡±


    I doubt that.


    Lena sighs. ¡°Let¡¯s just pay and go.¡±


    Dressed like we actually belong here, we approach the gates of the massive estate where the noble gathering is being held. The place is packed with finely dressed lords, ladies, and merchants¡ªall flashing invitations to the guards as they enter.


    We don¡¯t have invitations. Yet.


    Ravyn adjusts his cuffs. ¡°Alright. Time for part two of the plan.¡±


    I sigh. ¡°Which is?¡±


    He grins. ¡°We mingle. We chat. And when the time is right¡­ we borrow a few invitations.¡±


    I pinch the bridge of my nose. ¡°You mean pickpocket.¡±


    He winks. ¡°Details.¡±


    Lena pulls up her hood slightly. ¡°Let¡¯s split up. Less suspicious that way.¡±


    Mark nods. ¡°Understood.¡±


    I exhale slowly. Here we go.


    Ravyn claps me on the back. ¡°Go make some rich friends, newbie.¡±


    With that, we blend into the crowd, ready to steal our way inside.


    We move through the crowd, casually scanning the guests for an easy target. The problem is, most nobles aren¡¯t idiots¡ªthey keep their invitations close, tucked into their coats or inside fancy little envelopes.


    Just when I¡¯m starting to wonder if this plan is going to fall apart, Ravyn grabs my shoulder.


    ¡°Newbie,¡± he says, smirking. ¡°We just hit the jackpot.¡±


    I follow his gaze toward a side alleyway, tucked between two buildings. There, stumbling against a wall, is a very, very drunk nobleman.


    He¡¯s draped in expensive silk, a deep purple coat with golden trim, but at the moment, he looks pathetic. He sways on his feet, a half-empty bottle in one hand, and he¡¯s surrounded by two girls¡ªclearly hired escorts¡ªwho look less than impressed with his condition.


    ¡°Ugh,¡± one of them sighs. ¡°You said you were going to take us inside, not pass out in an alley.¡±


    The noble slurs something completely incoherent, waving his bottle around.


    Lena peeks in. ¡°Seriously? This guy?¡±


    Ravyn grins. ¡°What? He¡¯s perfect.¡±


    Mark cracks his knuckles. ¡°Easy target.¡±


    Lena sighs. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s just¡ª¡±


    Before she can even finish, Ravyn walks right in.


    The noble barely notices him approaching. ¡°Hey, hey¡ªwho¡¯re you?¡± he slurs, blinking blearily. ¡°You¡ªhic¡ªyou want a drink?¡±


    Ravyn smiles. ¡°Nah, I want your invitation.¡±


    The noble frowns. ¡°Huh? My what?¡±


    Ravyn doesn¡¯t even bother explaining.


    He just punches the guy in the face.


    The noble immediately collapses.


    The two girls scream, stepping back in shock.


    ¡°What the hell?!¡± one of them shouts.


    Ravyn grins and flips the noble¡¯s coat open, pulling out a neatly folded invitation. ¡°Bingo.¡±


    I stare. ¡°That¡¯s it? That¡¯s the whole plan?¡±


    Ravyn shrugs. ¡°Hey, he was gonna pass out anyway.¡±


    Lena groans, rubbing her temples. ¡°You¡¯re unbelievable.¡±


    The escorts are still frozen in place, staring at us like we¡¯re lunatics.


    Ravyn turns to them, flashing his usual cocky grin. ¡°Ladies,¡± he says, handing them a few gold coins. ¡°For the inconvenience.¡±


    Then, as if we didn¡¯t just assault a noble in an alley, we casually walk away.


    We regroup near the estate¡¯s gate. Ravyn waves the stolen invitation with a smug grin.


    Lena sighs. ¡°That was messy.¡±


    Ravyn winks. ¡°But effective.¡±


    I shake my head. ¡°So what now? We all use the same invitation?¡±


    Ravyn nods. ¡°Yup. Nobles don¡¯t get checked too hard. We flash this, talk our way in, and boom¡ªwe¡¯re inside.¡±


    I exhale. Here goes nothing.


    Ravyn steps forward first, flashing the invitation to the guards. ¡°Lord Theobald Falcrest,¡± he says smoothly. ¡°I trust everything is in order?¡±


    The guards barely glance at the parchment before nodding. ¡°Go ahead, my lord.¡±


    Ravyn grins, stepping inside.


    Lena follows. Then Mark.


    Then me.


    And just like that¡ª


    We¡¯re in.


    I take a deep breath, looking around at the sea of wealthy nobles, expensive decor, and dangerous company.


    This is either going to go really well¡­


    Or horribly wrong.


    Everything is made out of gold. and every corner is guarded.


    I look around a suddenly Ravyn is already a head of us talking to girls.. Why is he acting different


    Everything is gold.


    The floors? Polished marble lined with gold trim.


    The chandeliers? Massive, dripping with golden candle holders.


    The damn pillars? Gold-plated.


    I stare at the sheer unnecessary wealth on display. ¡°Okay, this is just excessive.¡±


    Lena mutters, ¡°Rich people.¡±


    Even worse, every corner is guarded.


    Paladins in immaculate silver armor stand at key positions, their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons. They¡¯re not just standing around, either¡ªthey¡¯re watching. Every movement, every person.


    I tense instinctively. One wrong move and we¡¯re done.


    I glance around, checking on the others¡ª


    And then I see Ravyn.


    He¡¯s already ahead of us, standing near a group of noblewomen¡ªlaughing, smiling, and looking like he belongs here.


    What the hell?


    I frown. ¡°Why is he acting different?¡±


    Lena follows my gaze, then sighs. ¡°Oh, right. You haven¡¯t seen this side of him yet.¡±


    I blink. ¡°What side?¡±


    Mark speaks up, his voice low. ¡°The noble side.¡±


    I pause. ¡°...The what?¡±


    Lena crosses her arms. ¡°You think Ravyn learned how to act like this out of nowhere? He grew up around nobles. Before he was a criminal, he was one of them.¡±


    My eyes widen slightly. ¡°Wait¡ªRavyn was a noble?¡±


    Lena nods. ¡°He doesn¡¯t talk about it much, but yeah. That¡¯s why he¡¯s so good at playing the part.¡±


    I look back at Ravyn. His usual cocky thief personality is gone. Instead, he¡¯s speaking with effortless charm, using the kind of polite, well-mannered tone I¡¯ve never heard from him before. The noblewomen giggle at whatever he just said, and he smiles back at them like he¡¯s done this a thousand times.


    I narrow my eyes. ¡°That sneaky bastard.¡±


    Lena smirks. ¡°Welcome to the real Ravyn.¡±


    I exhale, shaking my head. ¡°Alright, enough gawking. What¡¯s the plan?¡±


    Lena looks around. ¡°First, we need to figure out where Elza Evendawn is.¡±


    Mark nods. ¡°Or where the high-ranking nobles are gathering.¡±


    I roll my shoulders, trying to shake off my nerves. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s split up and¡ª¡±


    A loud voice suddenly cuts through the room.


    ¡°Introducing! The Saintess of Sletopia!¡±


    I freeze.


    The entire hall goes silent as all eyes turn toward the grand staircase.


    And then¡ª


    Elza Evendawn appears.


    She walks down the steps with a graceful elegance, her white and gold robes flowing behind her. Her radiant golden hair shines under the chandelier light, and her face¡ªcalm, composed, perfect¡ªholds the softest of smiles.


    She¡¯s exactly what the rumors said she¡¯d be. A holy figure, adored by the people.


    But something about her feels off.


    Her smile doesn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. There¡¯s a strange distance in her expression, as if she¡¯s somewhere else entirely.


    Lena murmurs, ¡°There she is.¡±


    I whisper to Lena. "How are we gonna get to talk to her? What''s the Plan?"


    Lena responds. "We just need to keep a low profile¨C"


    Before Lena can even finish the room fills in gossip and shock.


    We look at why and guess why. Well no other than Ravyn, He took the fucking saintess hand


    I lean closer to Lena, keeping my voice low.


    "How are we gonna get to talk to her? What''s the plan?"


    Lena keeps her eyes on Elza, her tone calm but focused.


    "We just need to keep a low profile¡ª"


    Before she can even finish, the entire room suddenly erupts into gossip and shocked whispers.


    A wave of murmurs sweeps through the crowd like wildfire, gasps mixing with frantic whispers. Nobles clutch their pearls, some turning to their companions with expressions of pure disbelief.


    I feel a pit form in my stomach.


    Oh no.


    Lena and I both turn our heads toward the source of the commotion.


    And guess what?


    It¡¯s Ravyn.


    Holding the damn Saintess¡¯s hand.


    I stare in horror.


    Lena groans, already rubbing her temples like she can¡¯t believe this is happening. ¡°You have got to be kidding me.¡±


    Mark just sighs, the deep exhale of a man who has witnessed too much stupidity in his lifetime.


    Ravyn, ever the master of chaos, stands there with a charming grin, holding Elza¡¯s delicate hand as if this is the most normal thing in the world.


    Elza blinks, clearly caught off guard, her serene expression faltering for just a second. She isn¡¯t yanking her hand away, but she also isn¡¯t saying anything. It¡¯s impossible to tell if she¡¯s surprised, amused, or just processing the sheer audacity of this man.


    The nobles? They¡¯re losing their minds.


    "Who is that man?!" Someone gasps.


    "How dare he touch the Saintess?!" Another voice shrieks.


    "Is he a foreign lord?!" A noble mutters in disbelief.


    "This is scandalous!" someone hisses, nearly spilling their drink.


    I hear a wine glass shatter in someone¡¯s grip. One elderly noble lady looks like she¡¯s about to faint.


    Meanwhile, Ravyn just smirks, looking completely unbothered by the social earthquake he just started.


    I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I hate him so much."


    Lena sighs, her patience wearing thin. "Yeah. But we better go back him up before he gets executed."


    Mark silently nods.


    I groan, already feeling the headache forming.


    This is not how I wanted this to go.


    Lena and I exchange a look. Neither of us moves.


    Mark doesn¡¯t either.


    We all just stand there, watching this disaster unfold.


    Ravyn, completely unbothered by the sea of horrified nobles around him, lifts Elza¡¯s hand ever so slightly, as if he¡¯s about to kiss it. The air in the room tightens¡ªhalf of these people look like they¡¯re about to drop dead from shock.


    But then, just before he can take things too far, Elza gently pulls her hand away.


    The room goes silent.


    Ravyn, to his credit, doesn¡¯t look fazed. He simply tilts his head, his usual smirk lingering as he studies her reaction.


    Elza, for her part, remains calm. She isn¡¯t flustered, nor is she visibly offended. If anything, she looks... mildly curious.


    She tilts her head slightly, golden eyes locking onto Ravyn¡¯s with quiet amusement. ¡°You are quite bold,¡± she says, her voice soft yet clear enough to command the entire room¡¯s attention. ¡°I do not believe we¡¯ve met before.¡±


    The tension shifts. The nobles, still murmuring among themselves, wait with bated breath.


    Ravyn places a hand on his chest and gives a slight bow. ¡°Lord Theobald Falcrest,¡± he lies effortlessly. ¡°A traveler from distant lands. Forgive my forwardness, but when one stands before divinity itself, it is only natural to be drawn in.¡±


    There it is. The noble charm act.


    Elza¡¯s expression doesn¡¯t change, but something flickers behind her eyes. Amusement? Curiosity? Suspicion? It¡¯s hard to tell.


    She glances at the paladins stationed around the hall. They remain tense but make no move to intervene¡ªnot yet.


    Then, to everyone¡¯s surprise, Elza simply smiles.


    ¡°A traveler,¡± she muses. ¡°And what brings Lord Falcrest to Sletopia?¡±


    I see Ravyn¡¯s shoulders relax ever so slightly. He has an opening.


    ¡°Many things,¡± he replies smoothly. ¡°But none as radiant as this evening¡¯s gathering.¡±


    Some noblewomen swoon. Others scoff, rolling their eyes.


    Elza just continues to study him, as if peering through the mask he wears.


    Does she see through him?


    Lena leans toward me, whispering. ¡°I can¡¯t tell if he¡¯s pulling this off or digging his own grave.¡±


    ¡°Both,¡± I whisper back.


    Mark simply watches in silence.


    For now, we wait.


    Elza studies Ravyn for a moment longer, her golden eyes sharp yet unreadable. Then, she smiles again¡ªsmall, composed, yet undeniably curious.


    ¡°A silver tongue,¡± she muses. ¡°One might wonder if it is a gift from the heavens or a tool sharpened by the world.¡±


    Ravyn chuckles softly. ¡°Perhaps a bit of both, my lady.¡±


    The tension in the room eases slightly. Some nobles, still whispering, seem torn between scandal and admiration. Others look ready to demand his execution. But Elza? She doesn¡¯t seem offended at all.


    If anything, she looks intrigued.


    She tilts her head. ¡°Tell me, Lord Falcrest¡­ have you visited Sletopia before?¡±


    Ravyn doesn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°Once, long ago. But never have I seen it shine as brilliantly as tonight.¡±


    The nobles eat it up. A few women swoon. Even some older lords nod in appreciation.


    Elza chuckles softly, the sound almost musical. ¡°You flatter the Holy Kingdom, Lord Falcrest.¡±


    Ravyn places a hand over his heart, bowing his head slightly. ¡°Truth requires no embellishment.¡±


    Lena mutters beside me, ¡°This is actually working?¡±


    I exhale slowly. ¡°I have no idea.¡±


    Then¡ª


    The atmosphere shifts.


    A cold, heavy pressure sweeps through the hall, crushing the warmth of the moment.


    It¡¯s subtle at first. A slight stillness. A tightening in the air. The kind of feeling that makes your instincts scream before your mind can catch up.


    The nobles don¡¯t notice immediately, still caught up in Ravyn and Elza¡¯s exchange. But I do.


    And so do the paladins.


    Their backs straighten. Their hands tighten on their weapons.


    Elza¡¯s smile falters, ever so slightly.


    A single set of footsteps echoes through the grand hall.


    And then, the nobles finally notice.


    The whispers die instantly.


    The crowd parts as a tall, cloaked figure enters the room.


    He wears the robes of an inquisitor, dark and adorned with silver sigils of the Church. A heavy, reinforced mantle drapes over his shoulders, but it does nothing to hide the overwhelming presence he carries.


    He walks with calm precision, every step measured. Controlled.


    His mere existence is suffocating.


    His eyes, cold and piercing, scan the room like a predator searching for its prey.


    I already know¡ª


    This man is dangerous.


    Ravyn stays perfectly still. His smirk is gone. His body tense.


    Elza exhales softly before turning toward the inquisitor, her voice composed. ¡°Grand Inquisitor Mordane. You arrive sooner than expected.¡±


    Grand Inquisitor?


    My stomach tightens.


    This is Valen Mordane?!


    The man stops a few feet away, his sharp eyes locking onto Ravyn.


    His expression?


    Completely unreadable.


    Then, finally, he speaks¡ªhis voice low, smooth, and laced with authority.


    ¡°This gathering is no place for pretenders.¡±


    The weight of his words sinks into the room like iron.


    Ravyn, for once, says nothing.


    And just like that¡ª


    The night has taken a very, very bad turn.


    The entire hall stands still.


    Grand Inquisitor Valen Mordane¡¯s presence alone is suffocating. The air feels heavier, as if even the light of the golden chandeliers dims in his wake.


    His piercing gaze remains locked onto Ravyn, his expression unreadable. ¡°This gathering is no place for pretenders.¡±


    The tension is thick. The nobles, once eager to gossip, now hold their breath. Even the paladins shift slightly, their hands subtly gripping their weapons.


    For once, Ravyn doesn¡¯t have his usual cocky smirk. His body is relaxed, but I can tell he¡¯s on edge. A predator meeting another predator.


    Still, he doesn¡¯t falter. Instead, he bows slightly¡ªjust enough to be respectful but not submissive.


    ¡°My apologies, Grand Inquisitor,¡± Ravyn says smoothly. ¡°I did not realize the Inquisition handled guest lists now.¡±


    Mordane doesn¡¯t blink. ¡°We handle many things.¡± His voice is cold, measured¡ªlike steel pressed against the throat. ¡°Your name, Lord Falcrest.¡±


    Lena stiffens beside me. She knows what this is. A test.


    Ravyn¡¯s fake identity. If he hesitates, if he misspeaks, it¡¯s over.


    But, of course, Ravyn just tilts his head slightly, feigning mild amusement. ¡°Surely a man of your station doesn¡¯t waste time memorizing every noble from distant lands?¡±


    The tension sharpens.


    Mordane takes one step forward.


    Despite himself, Ravyn tenses. It¡¯s subtle, but I see it.


    Mordane studies him, his gaze unwavering. Then, in a slow, deliberate motion, he raises his hand. Holy energy crackles in his palm. A faint golden glow¡ªa warning, not an attack. Not yet.


    But if Ravyn makes one wrong move, it will be.


    ¡°Lies,¡± Mordane says simply.


    I feel my pulse spike.


    The paladins tense further. One of them subtly reaches for his sword.


    This is about to turn into a fight.


    Lena shifts slightly beside me, ready to move. Mark¡¯s fingers twitch. We¡¯re seconds away from all hell breaking loose.


    Then¡ª


    Elza moves.


    With a simple, graceful step, she places a hand on Mordane¡¯s arm.


    The entire room watches.


    ¡°Grand Inquisitor,¡± Elza says, her voice gentle but firm. ¡°I do not believe violence is necessary tonight.¡±


    Mordane doesn¡¯t look at her immediately. His gaze lingers on Ravyn, as if debating whether to strike anyway.


    Then, finally, he exhales and lowers his hand. The golden energy fades.


    ¡°As you say, Saintess,¡± he murmurs.


    Only then do I realize I had been holding my breath.


    Elza turns to Ravyn, her expression unreadable. ¡°Lord Falcrest, I trust you will not cause any more disturbances.¡±


    Ravyn, to his credit, bows smoothly, slipping right back into his noble act. ¡°Of course, my lady. I am but a humble traveler, here to admire the radiance of Sletopia.¡±


    Her golden eyes linger on him for a moment longer. Then, with a final nod, she turns away, stepping back toward the center of the hall.


    Mordane doesn¡¯t move immediately. He gives Ravyn one last look before slowly stepping back into the shadows. Watching. Waiting.


    The tension lingers, but the nobles¡ªhesitant at first¡ªgradually resume their conversations. The disaster is avoided.


    For now.


    Lena exhales sharply. ¡°That was too close.¡±


    I rub my temples. ¡°Ravyn, I swear to¡ª¡±


    He just grins. ¡°Oh, come on. That went great.¡±


    I glare at him. ¡°You almost died.¡±


    Ravyn winks. ¡°Almost.¡±


    Lena shakes her head. ¡°We need to move. Now that Mordane¡¯s suspicious, we have less time to figure out what¡¯s going on.¡±


    Mark nods. ¡°We separate. Blend in.¡±


    I exhale, trying to push down the nerves. We got lucky. If Elza hadn¡¯t stepped in, this would have turned into a bloodbath.


    We need to act fast.

 Chapter 8: That Time I Totally Did Not Kidnap the Saintess

    We all separate, blending into the crowd in different directions. The plan is simple¡ªfind Elza and figure out a way to talk to her without getting executed.


    Easier said than done.


    I navigate through the hall, keeping my head down, trying not to attract unwanted attention. Nobles chat in small groups, sipping expensive wine, completely unaware that criminals are among them.


    Then, after searching for a while, I finally spot her.


    Elza stands near a grand balcony, her hands resting gently on the golden railing. The glow of the city lights reflects off her white and gold robes, giving her an almost ethereal presence.


    But something feels... off.


    She¡¯s alone.


    No guards. No nobles. No inquisitors lurking nearby.


    Just her.


    I freeze.


    Why is she alone?


    This seems... suspicious.


    My gut tells me to turn back. Something isn¡¯t right. This is too easy.


    Then again... fuck it.


    The worst thing that can happen is I die.


    ¡­Yeah.


    I take a deep breath and step forward. No turning back now.


    Elza remains still, gazing out over the balcony, seemingly unaware of my approach. Her posture is relaxed, her golden hair catching the soft glow of the lanterns above. For someone so important, she doesn¡¯t seem bothered by the lack of security.


    I clear my throat slightly. ¡°You know, it¡¯s not often that someone of your status stands alone.¡±


    She turns her head slightly, her expression calm but curious. Her golden eyes settle on me, studying me for a brief moment before she smiles softly.


    ¡°I could say the same to you, Lord¡­?¡±


    Crap. I need to stay in character.


    I bow slightly, forcing a polite smile. ¡°Theobald Falcrest. A traveler.¡±


    Her smile lingers. ¡°A traveler¡­ yet you carry yourself like a man with purpose.¡±


    I shrug. ¡°Perhaps purpose finds all of us in unexpected places.¡±


    She chuckles. ¡°That is a poetic way to put it.¡±


    For a moment, it feels normal. Just a conversation. There¡¯s something oddly calm about her¡ªlike she¡¯s used to speaking with people who hide their true intentions. Or maybe she just enjoys the occasional distraction from her role as the Saintess.


    I lean slightly against the balcony, acting casual. ¡°I must say, I didn¡¯t expect the Saintess of Sletopia to be so approachable.¡±


    Her expression doesn¡¯t change. ¡°Should I be unapproachable?¡±


    ¡°Well, normally, people with divine status have layers of security between them and people like me.¡±


    Her eyes flicker with something unreadable. ¡°And what kind of person are you, Lord Falcrest?¡±


    I pause. That was an interesting choice of words.


    I¡¯m about to respond¡ª


    Then I feel it.


    A sudden shift in the air.


    The fine hairs on my arms stand up. My instincts scream danger.


    Elza tilts her head slightly, her smile not fading, but her voice¡­


    Changes.


    It¡¯s no longer warm. No longer natural. It¡¯s wrong.


    Flat. Cold.


    ¡°Why are you really here?¡±


    I freeze.


    Something isn¡¯t right.


    Her eyes remain fixed on me, but there¡¯s a strange emptiness in them now, like the person speaking isn¡¯t actually her.


    Shit.


    Magic.


    Someone is using magic to speak through her.


    I force myself to remain calm, but my body is already tensed.


    Whoever this is¡­


    They¡¯re trying to learn why we¡¯re here.


    Shit. What do I do?


    Do I find everyone else¡ª


    Before I can even finish my thought, a voice creeps in from behind me.


    A deep, commanding tone. Cold. Unyielding.


    "That should be enough."


    A sharp pulse of magic floods the air.


    Before I can even react, my vision blurs. My body feels heavy, sluggish¡ª like I¡¯ve been hit with some kind of suppression spell.


    Crap! Did we get caught?!


    My thoughts feel slow, distorted. My knees nearly buckle, but I force myself to stay upright.


    I turn my head just enough to catch a glimpse of the figure behind me. A man clad in dark robes, silver sigils lining his sleeves. His face is partially shadowed, but the intensity of his presence is undeniable.


    Another Inquisitor.


    I try to speak, but my throat feels tight. The spell is still weighing me down.


    Elza¡ªif she¡¯s even aware of what¡¯s happening¡ªremains unnaturally still, her golden eyes blank, like she¡¯s been completely hijacked.


    Shit. This is bad.


    I have to do something.


    My pulse pounds in my ears. My vision swims, dark spots creeping at the edges.


    I try to move, to break free of whatever magic is holding me down¡ªbut my body won¡¯t respond properly.


    The Inquisitor steps closer. I can barely make out his face, but his voice is crystal clear.


    "How bold." He sounds almost amused. "You and your little group thought you could walk into our halls unnoticed? Foolish."


    Shit. He knows about the others.


    I grit my teeth, forcing my body to move, even as the spell tries to drag me down.


    I need to buy time.


    I exhale sharply, trying to keep my voice steady. ¡°Forgive me, Inquisitor, but I fail to see what you mean.¡±


    His head tilts slightly. ¡°Ah, still pretending. That¡¯s fine. The spell has already given me more than enough.¡±


    The spell¡ªhe was using Elza as a conduit.


    He was prying into my thoughts.


    My stomach sinks.


    How much did he see?!


    I glance at Elza, hoping for any sign that she¡¯s regaining control¡ªbut she remains eerily still.


    The Inquisitor sighs, shaking his head. ¡°Do not worry. You will have plenty of time to explain yourself properly.¡±


    I tense.


    No. No, no, no. I am not getting dragged into an interrogation room.


    The spell loosens¡ªjust slightly.


    That¡¯s all I need.


    I push through the weight, my body finally responding¡ª


    Then¡ª


    BOOM!


    A massive, shattering sound erupts from the main hall, followed by screams and chaos.


    The Inquisitor stiffens, snapping his head toward the noise.


    His mistake.


    I take my chance.


    I break free.


    I don¡¯t think. I react.


    The moment the Inquisitor turns his head, I lunge forward, grab the Saintess by the waist¡ª


    ¡ªand jump.


    Wait.


    What the hell did I just do?!


    The cold night air rushes past me as we plummet from the balcony. The city lights blur below, and for a split second, I question every life decision I¡¯ve ever made.


    Elza doesn¡¯t even scream.


    She just blinks at me, completely unbothered.


    Meanwhile, my brain is screaming internally.


    I JUST KIDNAPPED THE SAINTESS.


    OFF A BALCONY.


    IN FRONT OF AN INQUISITOR.


    WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING?!


    THINK, THINK, THINK!


    We¡¯re still falling. The ground is rushing up fast. I tighten my grip around Elza, bracing for impact¡ª


    And then¡ª


    WHAM!


    We crash into a fabric canopy, tearing straight through it before tumbling onto a wooden cart below.


    Barrels of fruit explode on impact.


    My back slams into something solid, and for a second, all I can hear is the ringing in my ears and the splat of crushed apples.


    ¡­Did I just survive that?!


    I groan, peeling myself out of a pile of ruined produce. Elza, still somehow completely composed, sits up beside me, brushing a strand of golden hair from her face.


    She looks at me.


    Then at the wrecked cart.


    Then back at me.


    ¡°¡­Was this your plan?¡± she asks, her voice calm as ever.


    I blink at her. "No!"


    I barely have time to recover before shouts explode from above.


    ¡°THERE! DOWN BELOW!¡±


    I look up¡ªseveral paladins and guards are already rushing to the edge of the balcony, pointing right at us. The Inquisitor is among them, his expression stone-cold fury.


    Shit, shit, shit!


    Elza tilts her head. ¡°I assume we should run?¡±


    I grab her wrist and bolt.


    ¡°YES, WE SHOULD RUN!¡±


    Shit! Where the hell is everyone else?!


    Did they get caught? Knocked out? Worse?!


    No time to think about that now.


    Focus, focus!


    Guards are pouring into the streets, shouting orders, their armor clanking as they close in. We need to get somewhere with fewer people before we¡¯re completely boxed in.


    I scan the area¡ªnarrow alleys, market stalls, a few abandoned side streets. Where do I go?!


    Then¡ª


    I see something that shouldn¡¯t be here.


    A massive, familiar blob of pink and brown standing near a pile of broken crates, chewing on what looks like an entire cabbage.


    I blink.


    Wait.


    Is that¡ª


    "PORKY?!"


    The fat boar snorts loudly, his ears perking up as he recognizes me.


    I stare at him. He stares back.


    Elza, still catching her breath, glances at the giant pig. Then at me. Then back at the pig.


    ¡°¡­Is this part of the plan?¡±


    I don¡¯t even know anymore.


    "Fuck, you can handle yourself porky." I grab the saintess wrist and continue running. Eventually I reach the church of Father Gabriel. Is this a good Idea? No. But I have no where else to go.


    ¡°Fuck, you can handle yourself, Porky!¡±


    The massive boar lets out a loud snort, completely unbothered by the chaos unfolding around us. I don¡¯t have time to deal with him¡ªI tighten my grip on Elza¡¯s wrist and keep running.


    Guards shout behind us, their heavy boots pounding against the stone streets.


    We twist through alleyways, dodging market stalls and abandoned carts. My heart is hammering, my lungs burning, but I don¡¯t stop.


    Eventually, I spot a familiar structure looming ahead¡ªthe Church of Father Gabriel.


    I skid to a stop in front of the doors, gasping for breath.


    Is this a good idea?


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    No. Absolutely not.


    But I have nowhere else to go.


    I glance at Elza. She¡¯s calm, too calm, barely even out of breath. Her golden eyes flick toward the church, then back at me.


    ¡°¡­Interesting choice,¡± she muses.


    I don¡¯t respond. Instead, I push open the doors and drag her inside.


    Gabriel is gonna kill me for this.


    I shove open the doors, practically dragging Elza inside. The heavy wooden doors slam shut behind us, muffling the shouts of the approaching guards.


    The air inside the church is dim and quiet, the faint scent of incense lingering in the air. Candlelight flickers along the stone walls, casting long shadows that make the place feel bigger than it actually is.


    And standing right in the middle of it all¡ª


    Father Gabriel.


    He¡¯s mid-sip from a goblet of wine, looking completely unbothered until he finally notices who I just dragged into his church.


    His eyes widen.


    He chokes on his drink.


    Then¡ª


    "YOU DID WHAT?!"


    I flinch. ¡°Okay, before you freak out¡ª¡±


    ¡°TOO LATE, I¡¯M ALREADY FREAKING OUT!¡± He gestures wildly at Elza, his expression torn between shock, rage, and pure disbelief. ¡°WHY¡ªHOW¡ªIS THAT THE SAINTESS?!¡±


    Elza, completely composed, tilts her head slightly. ¡°You must be Father Gabriel.¡±


    Gabriel snaps his head toward her, eyes narrowing. ¡°Oh, wonderful, she knows my name! Are you here to smite me? Because if so, just get it over with, I¡¯m tired of running!¡±


    Elza blinks. ¡°Why would I do that?¡±


    Gabriel pauses. Then scowls. ¡°Don¡¯t play innocent! You¡¯re the Saintess of Sletopia! You people love executing ¡®heretics¡¯ like me!¡±


    Elza tilts her head the other way. ¡°I have never personally executed anyone.¡±


    Gabriel squints at her.


    I rub my temples. ¡°Okay, can we just¡ªnot do this right now? Guards are literally hunting me down outside.¡±


    Gabriel pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. ¡°You kidnapped the Saintess, and now you¡¯ve brought her to me?! Do you know how fast I¡¯m going to be burned at the stake for this?!¡±


    I sigh. ¡°Okay, first of all, I didn¡¯t kidnap her!¡±


    Elza raises an eyebrow. ¡°You did jump off a balcony with me.¡±


    I groan. ¡°Not helping!¡±


    Gabriel is breathing heavily, staring at me like he¡¯s seconds away from either killing me himself or passing out from stress.


    Then¡ªloud banging at the doors.


    ¡°Open up! In the name of the Holy Kingdom!¡±


    Shit. They¡¯re here.


    Gabriel pales. ¡°Oh, I hate you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, get in line.¡±


    We need a plan. Fast.


    The banging on the doors grows louder.


    ¡°OPEN UP! IN THE NAME OF THE HOLY KINGDOM!¡±


    Gabriel looks like he¡¯s about to have a heart attack. He grips his wine goblet so hard I think he might actually crush it.


    I glance at Elza¡ªshe¡¯s still calm. Too calm.


    Meanwhile, my brain is screaming.


    Shit, shit, shit¡ªwhat do I do?!


    Gabriel snaps out of his panic first, grabbing me by the collar and yanking me close.


    "DO SOMETHING!" he hisses.


    I grab his robes right back. "YOU¡¯RE THE PRIEST¡ªYOU DO SOMETHING!"


    Gabriel glares at me like he¡¯s considering smiting me himself. Then he releases me with a frustrated groan, rubbing his temples.


    "Okay, okay, THINK. We need a way out of this!"


    Another pound at the doors.


    ¡°If you do not open these doors, we will force entry!¡±


    Gabriel goes rigid. "Okay¡ªnew plan. We lie."


    I blink. "What?"


    He clears his throat, smoothing down his robes. "I am still a priest, and this is holy ground. I¡¯ll stall them. You¡ª" He jabs a finger at me. "¡ªshut up and let me do the talking."


    I frown. "That¡¯s your plan? Just¡ªstall?"


    "Do you have a better idea?!"


    I don¡¯t.


    Elza, still completely unbothered, finally speaks. "I could simply tell them that I am here of my own free will."


    Gabriel and I both turn to her.


    Gabriel laughs dryly. "Oh, yes, because I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll believe that the Saintess just happened to take a midnight stroll into the church of a known heretic."


    Elza blinks. "Would they not?"


    I groan. "This is going to be a disaster."


    Gabriel straightens his robes. "Alright, time to lie through my teeth. Just¡ªlook holy or something."


    Then, without another word, he turns and throws open the doors.


    The cold night air floods in, along with at least a dozen armored paladins. Their leader, a broad-shouldered man with a gold-trimmed cape, steps forward, hand resting on his sword.


    His sharp eyes scan the room before locking onto Gabriel.


    "Father Gabriel," he says, his tone firm. "We have reason to believe that a fugitive has entered your church."


    Gabriel puts on the fakest, most dramatic ¡®holy man¡¯ expression I¡¯ve ever seen.


    "My child," he says, voice dripping with false sincerity. "This is a house of the gods! Do you truly think I would harbor a criminal?"


    The paladin doesn¡¯t buy it for a second.


    His gaze shifts to me.


    Shit.


    Act natural.


    I try to look as holy as possible.


    The paladin narrows his eyes.


    Gabriel quickly steps in.


    "Seraphiel¡¯s light shines upon all who seek refuge," he continues, throwing his arms out like some kind of messiah. "This poor traveler merely seeks divine guidance!"


    The paladin is not impressed.


    And then¡ªhis gaze shifts past us.


    To Elza.


    His entire expression shifts. His stance changes.


    His hand tightens on his sword.


    "¡­Saintess?"


    Elza steps forward, her posture graceful and composed.


    "I am here of my own will," she says simply.


    The paladin hesitates. The other knights shift uncomfortably.


    No one expected this.


    The leader¡¯s eyes flick between me, Gabriel, and Elza. His instincts are screaming that something is wrong.


    Finally, his gaze hardens.


    "I must insist," he says slowly, "that you return with us, Saintess."


    The tension spikes.


    Gabriel subtly shifts his stance. I tense.


    Elza remains calm.


    Then, she tilts her head slightly.


    "Are you questioning me?"


    Silence.


    I swear I see the paladin¡¯s jaw tighten.


    I don¡¯t know what kind of power struggle just started, but it feels like the next few seconds will decide everything.


    The air in the church is thick with tension.


    The lead paladin¡¯s jaw tightens, his fingers twitching near the hilt of his sword. The other guards shift uneasily. None of them expected this.


    Elza stands perfectly composed, golden eyes calm but unwavering. She isn¡¯t backing down.


    "Are you questioning me?" she asks again, her voice gentle, yet firm.


    The paladin hesitates.


    I can see the conflict in his face. If this were anyone else, he would have dragged them out by force. But this is the Saintess of Sletopia.


    Holy figure. Divine messenger.


    Untouchable.


    Gabriel, ever the opportunist, steps forward dramatically, throwing an arm around me.


    "You see?" he says, grinning like he¡¯s won something. "Our dear Saintess was merely blessing this poor lost soul! A noble, righteous act, as expected of one so pure!"


    The paladin¡¯s eyes snap to me.


    Oh, shit.


    I freeze, trying to look as holy and lost as possible.


    The paladin¡¯s gaze narrows. ¡°And who is this traveler?¡±


    I open my mouth to answer, but Gabriel squeezes my shoulder hard before I can speak.


    "Oh, just a pitiful wretch in need of guidance!" he answers for me, voice dripping with exaggerated concern. "We must not judge those who seek the light, my son."


    The paladin looks at me again, suspicious.


    Elza suddenly steps in. "He is under my protection."


    Silence.


    The paladin¡¯s fingers tighten on his sword. "Saintess¡ª"


    Elza¡¯s gaze sharpens.


    "Do you doubt my judgment?"


    I swallow hard.


    The paladin visibly struggles, caught between his duty and his faith.


    Gabriel is still gripping my shoulder like he¡¯s trying to physically keep me from speaking.


    Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the paladin exhales sharply.


    "Of course not, Saintess."


    I exhale quietly.


    The tension doesn¡¯t fully disappear, but the paladins lower their guard slightly.


    "Then there is no need for further concern," Elza continues, still calm. "I will return when my work is done."


    The lead paladin grits his teeth. I can tell he hates this. But he can¡¯t openly defy her.


    He bows stiffly. "As you wish, Saintess."


    Without another word, the paladins turn and leave, their armor clanking as they march back into the night.


    The moment the doors slam shut, I let out a long breath I didn¡¯t realize I was holding.


    Gabriel immediately whirls on me.


    "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR DAMN MIND?!"


    I sigh. "Yeah, yeah, get in line."


    He groans loudly, dragging a hand down his face. "You don¡¯t just kidnap the Saintess and bring her to a heretic¡¯s church! That¡¯s how you end up extra burned at the stake!"


    I shake my head. "First of all¡ªI didn¡¯t kidnap her!"


    Elza, ever composed, tilts her head slightly. "Technically, you did throw me off a balcony."


    I groan. "Not helping!"


    Gabriel grabs his wine goblet and downs the rest in one go.


    "Okay," he mutters, voice muffled. "We¡¯re so dead."


    Lena, Mark, and Ravyn better show up soon, because I have no idea what happens next.


    I exhale sharply, forcing myself to focus. "It shouldn''t take long before Inquisitors fill up this place."


    Gabriel glares at me. "Really now? Who would have guessed?"


    I ignore his sarcasm. "Hopefully, Ravyn, Mark, and Lena didn¡¯t get hurt or kidnapped."


    Gabriel''s expression immediately changes. His usual irritation vanishes, replaced by something far more serious.


    His eyes widen.


    "What¡­ My Lena?"


    His voice drops¡ªlow, dangerous.


    I blink. "Uh¡­ yeah?"


    Gabriel grabs my shoulders. "Where is she?!"


    I hesitate. "I¡ªI don¡¯t know. We split up back at the party¡ª"


    He shakes me once. "You LEFT HER ALONE?!"


    Elza watches, completely calm, as Gabriel proceeds to lose his mind.


    I hold up my hands. "Hey, hey¡ªshe can handle herself!"


    Gabriel¡¯s grip tightens. "Not the point!"


    I glance at Elza for help, but she just tilts her head slightly. "He does seem quite attached to her."


    Gabriel spins toward her. "You¡ªDivine Lady¡ªSaintess¡ªwhatever¡ªBless me or something! Make sure she¡¯s okay!"


    Elza blinks. "That is¡­ not how my powers work."


    Gabriel whirls back to me. "We¡¯re finding her. Now."


    I groan. "I was already planning on it!"


    The problem is¡ª


    Where the hell do we even start?


    Where the hell do we even start?


    Before I can process everything, Gabriel grabs me by the collar, his face contorted with pure panic. "We don¡¯t need a plan¡ªwe need to FIND HER. You don¡¯t understand, boy! If something happened to Lena¡ª¡±


    I pry his hands off before he crushes my windpipe. "I get that, but running out there blind isn¡¯t going to help!"


    Gabriel glares at me like I just suggested we sit down for tea instead. He looks half-crazed¡ªhis breathing is ragged, his hands are shaking, and I swear I see actual desperation in his eyes.


    Elza, meanwhile, watches all of this like it¡¯s some mildly amusing stage play. "You said there were three missing, correct?"


    I nod. "Yeah. Ravyn, Mark, and Lena. They should¡¯ve gotten out after things went to hell, but now¡ª"


    "We don¡¯t know if they¡¯re captured, hiding, or¡ª" Gabriel swallows hard. He can¡¯t even finish the sentence.


    I grit my teeth. "They¡¯re not dead."


    Gabriel looks away. He doesn¡¯t look convinced.


    Elza calmly taps a finger against the wooden table. "Then our first priority should be information."


    I exhale. "Right. But how do we do that without drawing attention?"


    She turns her gaze to Gabriel. "Father, you have many ears in the city. Surely you can discreetly ask around."


    Gabriel scoffs, running a shaky hand through his hair. "Oh, sure. I¡¯ll just stroll through the streets, whistling a happy tune while the Inquisition is already tearing the city apart. Brilliant idea."


    Elza doesn¡¯t even blink. "You know this city better than anyone. You have connections in places others overlook. If anyone can find them quickly, it¡¯s you."


    Gabriel¡¯s jaw clenches. "¡­Damn it."


    He curses under his breath and turns away. He¡¯s visibly struggling to calm down.


    "You care about her," I say before I can stop myself.


    Gabriel tenses. His hands curl into fists.


    "Of course I do," he mutters, voice tight. "She¡ªshe¡¯s reckless. Always getting herself into danger. Always¡­" He trails off, shaking his head.


    Something clicks in my head.


    This isn¡¯t just concern. This is personal.


    I narrow my eyes. "What is she to you?"


    Gabriel glares at me. "That¡¯s none of your damn business."


    I don¡¯t push. Not yet. But I file it away for later.


    "Fine," I say. "You go check in with your sources. Be subtle. Elza and I will lay low here."


    Gabriel exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair again. "Alright, alright. But if I come back and find out you¡¯ve brought the whole damn city here, I¡¯m throwing you both out."


    With that, he grabs his coat and storms out.


    I exhale. Finally, a second to think.


    Elza watches me. "And what will we do in the meantime?"


    I rub my temples. "We wait¡­ and hope the others aren¡¯t doing something stupid."


    Lena¡¯s voice echoes in my head. You hope we aren¡¯t doing something stupid?


    I can hear her smirking.


    Yeah. She¡¯s absolutely in trouble.


    Lena¡¯s head throbbed. Not from injury¡ªjust from pure, unfiltered annoyance.


    She crouched behind a stack of crates in a dark alley, wiping blood off her knuckles. Beside her, Mark stood silently, arms crossed, keeping watch for any patrols.


    And Ravyn?


    Ravyn was standing right in the open, casually twirling a stolen guard¡¯s helmet on his finger, looking way too pleased with himself.


    Lena narrowed her eyes. "Are you seriously enjoying this?"


    Ravyn grinned. "Oh, immensely."


    She groaned, resisting the urge to smack him. "We were supposed to blend in, Ravyn. Blend in. That means not making yourself the center of attention!"


    "Technically," Ravyn mused, tossing the helmet up and catching it again, "I only became the center of attention after I grabbed the Saintess¡¯ hand in front of all those nobles."


    "Exactly! That¡¯s the problem!"


    Mark exhaled through his nose but said nothing.


    Lena rubbed her temples. The moment Grand Inquisitor Valen Mordane suspected them, everything had gone to hell. Paladins had flooded the noble estate, searching for ¡°intruders.¡± The three of them barely escaped through a hidden servant¡¯s corridor before the exits were locked down.


    Now they were trapped in the city. If they didn¡¯t regroup with Eli soon, things were going to get a lot worse.


    "We need to find Eli," she muttered. "That means figuring out where he ran off with the Saintess."


    "Correction," Ravyn said, holding up a finger. "Where he kidnapped the Saintess."


    Lena scowled. "He didn¡¯t kidnap¡ª"


    "He literally threw her off a balcony."


    Mark let out a quiet sigh, still watching the streets.


    "She didn¡¯t seem upset about it, though," he finally muttered.


    Ravyn grinned. "That¡¯s what makes it hilarious."


    Lena clenched her fists. "Okay, fine, whatever. The point is, we need to regroup."


    Mark tilted his head slightly, glancing toward the main street. Paladins were already questioning locals.


    "We can¡¯t move openly," he said simply.


    Lena smirked. "Good thing I know exactly where to get information."


    She stood up, stretching and cracking her knuckles.


    "We¡¯re going to visit an old friend of mine."


    Ravyn raised an eyebrow. "And this ¡®friend¡¯ of yours¡­ they¡¯ll help us?"


    Lena¡¯s smirk widened. "Oh, she¡¯ll help us. She owes me."


    Mark exhaled, but said nothing.


    Ravyn chuckled. "I love how you said that."


    Lena rolled her eyes. "Come on. Let¡¯s move before the Inquisitors sniff us out."


    The Velvet Fang was one of those places that looked like a seedy back-alley tavern but had enough power and money flowing through it to make the city guards look the other way. It was a place for mercenaries, spies, and people who didn¡¯t want to be found¡ªso, naturally, it was exactly where Lena needed to go.


    She led the way through the winding streets, taking the quieter paths, avoiding patrols. Mark moved silently behind her, his presence steady as always. Ravyn, on the other hand, practically strolled through the shadows, humming under his breath like they weren¡¯t currently hunted fugitives.


    "You sure this ¡®friend¡¯ of yours won¡¯t turn us in?" Ravyn mused.


    Lena scoffed. "She might try, but she won¡¯t succeed."


    Mark gave her a look.


    Lena smirked. "Relax. She and I have history¡ªand she still owes me a favor."


    Mark said nothing, but he didn¡¯t look convinced.


    They arrived at a nondescript door tucked between two abandoned buildings. No sign. No markings. Just a solid, reinforced wooden door with a small metal slit at eye level.


    Lena knocked three times.


    The slit opened. A pair of tired, bloodshot eyes glared at her. "We¡¯re closed."


    Lena grinned. "Tell Mira that ¡®Blackbird¡¯ is here to collect."


    The eyes narrowed.


    Then the slit slammed shut, and the sound of several locks clicking open echoed from the other side.


    The door creaked as it swung inward.


    "Try anything," the bouncer growled, "and we¡¯ll be scraping you off the walls."


    Lena stepped inside without hesitation. "Aw, you missed me."


    Mark followed silently. Ravyn strolled in like he owned the place.


    The Velvet Fang was as she remembered¡ªlow, warm candlelight, the scent of spiced alcohol and old wood, and a constant undercurrent of hushed conversations. Dangerous people sat in every corner¡ªhunters, ex-soldiers, criminals, all pretending not to watch each other.


    And at the back, seated in a private booth with a glass of expensive wine in hand, was the woman they came to see.


    Mira Lys.


    She was exactly the same¡ªtall, dark-skinned, and draped in crimson silks that contrasted her sharp, golden eyes. She barely looked up from her drink as they approached.


    "Well, well," Mira murmured, swirling her wine. "If it isn¡¯t Lena Nightfall."


    Lena smirked. "Mira."


    Mira¡¯s eyes flicked toward Mark and Ravyn. "And you brought friends. That¡¯s new."


    Lena slid into the seat across from her. "I need information."


    Mira let out a soft laugh. "Oh, of course you do. But tell me, darling¡ªwhy should I help you?"


    Lena leaned forward. "Because you owe me."


    Mira¡¯s lips curled into an amused smile.


    "Alright, Blackbird," she purred. "Let¡¯s talk."


    Meanwhile, at the Church¡­


    Gabriel had barely been gone ten minutes before I started pacing again.


    "Relax," Elza said, watching me from her seat. "You¡¯re restless for no reason."


    "No reason?" I scoffed. "We don¡¯t even know where they are."


    Elza gave me a small, knowing smile. "We will."


    I frowned. "You¡¯re weirdly calm about this."


    She tilted her head. "You¡¯ll get used to it."


    Before I could respond, the church doors opened, and Gabriel slipped inside. His expression was unreadable, but I could feel the tension in his movements.


    I immediately straightened. "What did you find?"


    Gabriel exhaled. "They¡¯re at a tavern called The Velvet Fang."


    I blinked. "Why the hell are they at a tavern?"


    Gabriel scowled. "Because apparently, Lena has connections there."


    I groaned. "Of course she does."


    Elza rose to her feet gracefully. "Then we should go."


    Gabriel hesitated. "No. The city is crawling with Inquisitors. If we¡¯re not careful, we¡¯ll all get caught before we even reach them."


    I clenched my fists. "We¡¯re not leaving them behind."


    Gabriel shot me a glare. "I know that."


    I paused.


    Yeah. He knew that. And judging by the way he was barely holding himself together, he was a lot more worried than he was letting on.


    I sighed. "Alright. What¡¯s the plan?"


    Gabriel exhales sharply, rubbing his temples. "We move quietly. No unnecessary risks. And we bring Lena back safe."


    "Yeah¡­ No." I cross my arms, shaking my head. "There''s no point. Now that I know they¡¯re alive and not captured, I know they¡¯ll find us."


    Gabriel stares at me like I just grew a second head. "What?"


    I shrug. "For some reason, I trust them."


    Gabriel looks half a second away from strangling me. "Trust them? We¡¯re in the middle of a city filled with Inquisitors¡ª"


    "They¡¯re not idiots," I cut him off. "They¡¯ve made it this far. If we start running around like headless chickens, we¡¯re just gonna get caught."


    He clenches his jaw, but he doesn¡¯t argue. Maybe because he knows I have a point.


    Instead, he groans and rubs his face. "I hate this. I hate this."


    "Yeah, well, you¡¯re still here, so," I mutter.


    I turn toward Elza, who has been way too quiet during all this. Her serene expression hasn¡¯t changed, but there¡¯s a sharpness in her eyes now, like she¡¯s waiting for something.


    I inhale. "Look, the real reason I ''kidnapped'' you¡ª" I make air quotes, because I know she''s been enjoying the scandal¡ª"is to tell you the truth."


    She tilts her head slightly, curious. "And what truth is that?"


    I meet her gaze.


    "You¡¯re going to be a sacrifice," I say. "For a catalyst."


    For the first time since we met, Elza¡¯s expression shifts.


    It¡¯s subtle. A flicker of something in her eyes.


    Then, softly¡ª


    "I see."


    "You see?" I scoff, narrowing my eyes. "Are you not even scared?"


    Elza doesn¡¯t flinch. She simply watches me, her expression unreadable.


    I exhale sharply. "And the fact that the person who decided you should be the sacrifice is your own father¡ªdoes that mean nothing to you?"


    A pause.


    Elza blinks once, slowly. Then she exhales, almost like she expected this.


    "I suspected as much," she murmurs.


    Gabriel stiffens beside me. "Suspected?"


    Elza folds her hands in her lap. "I have long known that my role in Sletopia is more than that of a mere Saintess. The signs were always there¡ªthe way the clergy revered me too much, the strange limitations placed upon my freedom¡­ and, of course, my father¡¯s unshakable faith."


    There¡¯s something cold in her voice when she says father.


    Like she¡¯s already started to detach from the idea that he¡¯s even family.


    I lean forward. "So you knew?"


    "I suspected," she repeats. "But suspicion and truth are two different things."


    I watch her carefully. "And now that you know?"


    She meets my gaze without hesitation. "Now, I must decide what to do about it."


    There¡¯s no fear in her voice.


    No anger.


    Just¡­ calm certainty.


    I don¡¯t know whether to be impressed or disturbed.


    "Well, don¡¯t worry!" I flash a grin, trying to lighten the mood. "We, the Gravewalkers, won¡¯t let that happen!"


    Gabriel snorts. Then, to my surprise, he actually laughs.


    "Now you¡¯re acting like Ravyn¡ªpft¡ª" He shakes his head, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Gods help me, that was something he would say."


    I blink. "Hey!"


    Elza giggles softly, covering her mouth.


    I glare at both of them. "I am nothing like Ravyn."


    Gabriel gives me a look. "Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that, kid."


    I groan. "You know what? Forget it. The point is¡ªElza, you¡¯re not dying, and we¡¯re definitely not letting your father get away with this."


    Elza hums in thought. "Then we must be prepared. If this Grand Invocation is as powerful as you imply, it will not be easy to stop."


    Gabriel leans back against the pew, rubbing his temples. "Great. Another impossible plan. Just what I needed today."


    "Welcome to the club," I mutter.


    Now we just need to figure out how to actually stop it.


    I exhale, running a hand through my hair. God¡­ at least this is better than getting killed and revived over and over again by Zareth.


    The thought creeps in before I can stop it.


    "We need to focus," I say, pushing everything else aside. "If Lena and the others are heading here, we need to be ready. The Inquisitors won¡¯t just back off."


    Gabriel sighs. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Let¡¯s just hope they don¡¯t bring more trouble with them."


    I don¡¯t say anything.


    Because knowing them?


    They absolutely will.

 Chapter 9: Ravyn finally did something smart for once.. Or did he?

    Inside the dimly lit church, the air was thick with tension. We all stood in uneasy silence, glancing at one another as we processed the chaos that had just unfolded.


    Gabriel, however, was completely lost in his own world. Every time his eyes landed on Lena, his expression softened into pure adoration, as if he were gazing upon a divine being who had descended straight from the heavens.


    I sighed, rubbing my temples before breaking the silence. "Alright... what do we do about this Grand Invocation?" My voice was steady, but the weight of our situation pressed heavily on my shoulders.


    Everyone¡¯s attention snapped back to reality. The question lingered in the air, unanswered, as we all silently acknowledged the storm that was brewing around us.


    "It won¡¯t take long for the Inquisitors to find us." I cast a glance at Gabriel, who was still half-dazed, eyes flickering between panic and whatever delusion he had about Lena¡¯s divine presence.


    "Any ideas?" I pressed, my voice firmer this time.


    Gabriel blinked rapidly, snapping out of his trance¡ªat least partially. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, muttering a string of curses under his breath before exhaling sharply.


    "Well," he started, rubbing his temples, "we could pray, but I doubt the gods are taking requests from heretics like us." He shot me a glare before pacing the room. "We need a way out before they kick down the doors. I could stall them again, but that won¡¯t last forever."


    Elza, still eerily calm despite the situation, folded her hands in front of her. "Perhaps we don¡¯t need to run. If we understand what the Grand Invocation truly is, we may be able to use that knowledge against them."


    Lena crossed her arms, nodding. "Then we better start figuring it out fast."


    The room fell into silence for a brief moment as we all processed our next move.


    Ravyn stepped forward with that smug, insufferable grin that always made my blood pressure spike. I already knew whatever came out of his mouth next was going to be ridiculous.


    "What if we pretend to be Inquisitors?" he suggested, tilting his head dramatically. "And say that we found Elza?"


    I barely resisted the urge to groan.


    Lena didn¡¯t hold back. "Did you just forget how they found us?" she snapped, arms crossed. "They literally used magic to sense who was lying. Do you have some secret immunity to mind-reading that you forgot to mention?"


    Ravyn held a hand to his chest, feigning offense. "Lena, Lena, Lena. Where¡¯s your faith in me?"


    "Somewhere between ¡®not here¡¯ and ¡®never existed,¡¯" she deadpanned.


    Gabriel, still looking ready to pass out from stress, threw his hands up. "I swear to the gods, if you idiots get me killed¡ª"


    "We¡¯re already dead if we don¡¯t figure something out," I cut in, rubbing my temples. "So unless someone has a better plan, let¡¯s keep the ideas coming."


    Elza, still impossibly composed, simply smiled. "Then let¡¯s make sure the next plan actually works."


    Mark, the quiet giant, finally spoke up¡ªan event so rare that everyone instinctively turned to listen.


    "What if we just lure them out?" His deep voice rumbled through the room, steady and measured. "I highly doubt they¡¯d send a low-ranking member to retrieve the Saintess." His gaze swept across the room before briefly locking onto mine. "And when they do send someone important... we capture them and get our answers through interrogation."


    I considered his words, weighing the risks. It wasn¡¯t a bad plan¡ªdangerous, sure, but so was everything else we¡¯d done tonight.


    Lena raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly do you propose we bait them? Just knock on their door and say, ¡®Hey, we stole your Saintess, come get her?¡¯"


    Ravyn grinned. "I like where this is going."


    Gabriel, already pale from stress, looked ready to collapse. "I am going to die before sunrise," he muttered, pouring himself another drink.


    I exhaled sharply, glancing at Elza. Despite all of this insanity, she still looked completely unfazed, as if none of this truly concerned her. Either she had nerves of steel, or she was hiding something.


    ¡°Well, Mark¡¯s got a point,¡± I admitted, crossing my arms. ¡°If we try to keep running, they¡¯ll eventually corner us. If we go after them first, we might have a shot at learning what the Grand Invocation really is before it¡¯s too late.¡±


    Gabriel slammed his cup down. ¡°We?¡± He pointed at himself, eyes wild. ¡°Oh no. You lunatics are the ones picking fights with the Inquisition. I¡¯m just the idiot who let you through the door!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re also the idiot who stalled them earlier,¡± Lena reminded him flatly. ¡°If they find out you lied, you¡¯ll be joining us whether you like it or not.¡±


    Gabriel¡¯s face twitched, his fingers tightening around the cup before he groaned. ¡°I hate all of you.¡±


    ¡°Noted,¡± I said, ignoring his suffering. ¡°But let¡¯s focus. If we go with Mark¡¯s idea, we need a solid way to lure them in. They¡¯re already looking for us, but we need to make sure they send someone high-ranking.¡±


    Lena tapped her chin. ¡°We still have Elza.¡±


    Everyone turned to the Saintess.


    Elza, still eerily calm, met our gazes without a hint of concern. ¡°I assume you want me to serve as bait.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± I hesitated. ¡°Yeah. But it¡¯s not as bad as it sounds!¡±


    Gabriel choked. ¡°It sounds exactly as bad as it sounds!¡±


    Elza, to my surprise, merely smiled. ¡°If it leads to the truth behind the Grand Invocation, then I don¡¯t mind.¡±


    Gabriel stared at her in horror. ¡°You¡¯re all insane.¡±


    I ignored him. ¡°Then it¡¯s settled. We set the trap. But we need a plan to make sure we win once they take the bait.¡±


    Ravyn clapped his hands. ¡°Finally! Now this is my kind of fun.¡±


    My lips curled into a grin as an idea formed. If Ravyn wanted excitement, I¡¯d gladly give it to him.


    "Hey¡­ Ravyn," I said, tilting my head slightly. "Since you¡¯re looking for fun, how about you guard the Saintess while the rest of us scout from afar?"


    Ravyn¡¯s smirk faltered just a little. "Wait, me? You want me to babysit?"


    "Not babysit," I corrected, enjoying his discomfort. "Just make sure she doesn¡¯t get kidnapped. Again."


    Lena snorted. "Should be easy, right? I mean, you¡¯re the Blind Reaper and all. Surely a couple of Inquisitors aren¡¯t a problem for you?"


    Ravyn narrowed his eyes. "I hate how much I don¡¯t trust you two right now."


    Gabriel, still drowning in his own misery, waved dismissively. "Oh, just take the job, you reckless idiot. I need a break before I drop dead from stress."


    Elza, as always, remained composed. "I don¡¯t mind his company," she said simply.


    Ravyn sighed dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, fine. But if this turns into a mess, I¡¯m blaming all of you."


    "Noted," I said, already moving toward the exit. "Alright, let¡¯s get into position before the real fun starts."


    We all knew better than to leave the church together¡ªit would be too obvious.


    Ravyn was the first to go, guiding Elza out through the side entrance. Despite his usual arrogance, he walked with an unusual level of caution, keeping her close while scanning every shadow in the street. The Saintess, of course, remained as calm as ever, moving with an almost unsettling grace, as if she weren¡¯t being used as bait for the Inquisition.


    Once they were a good distance away, the rest of us moved. But unlike them, we didn¡¯t take the streets.


    Lena, Mark, and I climbed up the side of the church, using old stone ledges and vines as handholds. The city¡¯s rooftops stretched before us, a maze of slanted tiles and wooden beams. Up here, we had the advantage¡ªfewer eyes, more escape routes, and a clear view of our so-called ¡°trap.¡±


    Lena landed beside me, crouching low. "If Ravyn screws this up, I am never letting him live it down."


    Mark, ever the silent presence, merely nodded before leaping to the next rooftop with ease.


    I adjusted my grip on Nyxrend and exhaled slowly. "Let¡¯s just hope they take the bait."


    Below us, Ravyn and Elza continued walking through the dimly lit streets.


    Now, we waited.


    The rooftops gave us the perfect vantage point. From here, we could track Ravyn and Elza without being seen, our shadows blending into the night. The city below was alive with murmurs and distant footsteps, but none of it mattered¡ªour focus was entirely on the trap we were about to spring.


    Ravyn walked with his usual cocky stride, but there was an edge to it, a readiness in the way his hand lingered near his weapon. Elza, in contrast, moved with serene confidence, unfazed by the danger surrounding her. If she was afraid, she didn¡¯t show it.


    Lena crouched beside me, eyes sharp. ¡°If they don¡¯t take the bait soon, we might have to make some noise.¡±


    ¡°Give it a little longer,¡± I murmured, scanning the streets. The Inquisition wasn¡¯t stupid. If they were watching, they¡¯d want to be sure before making a move.


    Mark remained silent, his massive frame barely making a sound as he shifted positions. Even though he rarely spoke, his instincts were sharp¡ªif something felt off, he¡¯d be the first to react.


    Then, it happened.


    A flicker of movement in the alley ahead. A cloaked figure, blending too well with the shadows. Not a common thief. Not a wandering drunk. Inquisitor.


    My grip on Nyxrend tightened.


    ¡°They¡¯re here,¡± I whispered.


    Lena¡¯s lips curled into a smirk. ¡°Finally.¡±


    We stayed still, watching as more figures emerged, moving like wraiths through the streets. Their formation was deliberate, surrounding Ravyn and Elza without a single wasted motion. These weren¡¯t grunts. This was a well-coordinated response.


    Ravyn stopped walking. His smirk returned, but there was an unmistakable sharpness in his eyes. He knew.


    Elza, as always, remained composed.


    A voice cut through the silence. Smooth. Controlled. Dangerous.


    ¡°You¡¯ve gone through a great deal of trouble to get our attention.¡±


    From the darkness, a man stepped forward. He was tall, draped in white and gold robes, with piercing silver eyes that seemed to see through everything. Unlike the others, he wasn¡¯t masked. He wanted us to see him.


    Grand Inquisitor Valen Mordane.


    Lena tensed beside me. ¡°Well¡­ this just got a whole lot harder.¡±


    I exhaled, my mind racing.


    Time to see if our trap just backfired.


    Of course, it did. Before anyone could so much as breathe, Ravyn lunged at the Grand Inquisitor.


    No hesitation. No plan. Just pure, reckless aggression.


    What the hell¡ª


    I moved to stop him, but before I could take a step, Lena grabbed my arm.


    "Let¡¯s just watch," she muttered, eyes locked onto the fight. "We¡¯ve never seen him fight before, right?"


    I wanted to argue, but she had a point. As far as I knew, Ravyn was just another skilled rogue¡ªdangerous, sure, but going head-to-head with Grand Inquisitor Valen Mordane? That was suicide.


    Down below, Ravyn moved like a ghost, his blade flashing toward Mordane¡¯s throat.


    And yet¡ª


    Clang!


    A golden barrier flared to life, stopping Ravyn¡¯s strike dead in its tracks. The sheer force sent a shockwave through the air, causing torches to flicker wildly.


    Ravyn twisted midair, bringing his dagger in for another strike¡ª


    Another golden flash.


    Mordane barely moved. It was like he wasn¡¯t even trying.


    Ravyn landed a few feet away, his usual smirk still in place. But this wasn¡¯t arrogance. It was excitement.


    "Oh-ho," Ravyn chuckled, rolling his shoulders. "Not bad. You might actually be fun."


    Mordane exhaled, almost bored. "How unfortunate."


    Golden chains erupted from the air, streaking toward Ravyn like divine spears.


    Ravyn dodged the first few, but they moved too fast. One wrapped around his wrist, another around his ankle. Then, they pulled¡ªslamming him into the ground with bone-cracking force.


    Dust kicked up from the impact.


    Lena¡¯s grip on my arm tightened. "This is bad."


    I clenched my fists. "Damn it, Ravyn. Get up."


    The dust settled.


    Ravyn was still moving. His clothes were scorched, his body battered and bloody. Yet, despite the pain, he pushed himself up, coughing.


    "That all you got?" He grinned, blood dripping from his mouth.


    Mordane frowned. "Your arrogance is exhausting."


    With a flick of his fingers, the chains constricted¡ªburning into Ravyn¡¯s skin. He barely managed to stifle a grunt.


    Then, Mordane raised a golden spear. "Enough of this."


    The spear plunged through Ravyn¡¯s chest.


    Silence.


    For a moment, the world stopped.


    Gabriel made a choking noise.


    Lena¡¯s eyes widened. Even Mark, usually emotionless, stiffened slightly.


    Ravyn¡¯s fingers twitched. Then, his body slumped.


    Mordane exhaled, already turning away. "Foolish."


    Gabriel staggered forward. "You... you killed him¡ª"


    Then, it happened.


    A single crack echoed through the air.


    Mordane¡¯s eyes snapped back toward the corpse. The golden spear¡ªstill impaling Ravyn¡ªfractured.


    A pulse of unnatural energy rippled through the street.


    Then¡ª


    Ravyn breathed.


    Golden light flickered across his wounds¡ªthen reversed, as if time itself had rewound. His body stitched itself back together, skin mending, bones resetting. The blood soaking the ground vanished.


    And then¡ª


    He stood up.


    Mordane¡¯s calm expression finally broke.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Gabriel let out an inhuman wheeze. "WHAT."


    Mark took a step back.


    Lena¡¯s voice was barely a whisper. "No way..."


    Mordane¡¯s gaze darkened. "What... are you?"


    Ravyn didn¡¯t answer. His usual smirk was gone. His expression was... unreadable.


    A thin crack of dark energy pulsed around him. The air itself felt heavier.


    Something about him had changed.


    The paladins tensed, gripping their weapons. They thought they had just killed a low-tier rogue.


    They had no idea what they were actually dealing with.


    Ravyn flexed his fingers, rolling his shoulders. His eyes¡ªonce playful¡ªwere now cold.


    "Alright," he murmured. "My turn."


    Then, he vanished.


    Mordane¡¯s eyes barely had time to widen before Ravyn reappeared right in front of him.


    Faster.


    This wasn¡¯t the same reckless Ravyn from before. His movements had no wasted motion, no unnecessary flair. Just precision.


    Ravyn¡¯s dagger flashed upward, aiming straight for Mordane¡¯s throat.


    Clang!


    Mordane barely managed to raise a golden shield in time, but this time, the impact wasn¡¯t clean. The barrier cracked.


    Mordane¡¯s expression hardened. He hadn¡¯t expected that.


    Neither had I.


    "What the hell¡­" I whispered under my breath.


    Lena tensed beside me. "This isn¡¯t normal. That¡¯s not just a rogue getting back up. Something changed."


    Down below, Mordane lifted his hand again, golden light radiating from his palm. Another holy spear formed, brighter and more concentrated than before.


    "You are unnatural," Mordane said, his voice firm but laced with something new. Not just irritation. Concern.


    Ravyn smirked¡ªhis usual arrogant grin, but now there was something sharper behind it. "You¡¯re not the first to say that."


    Mordane didn¡¯t wait. He thrust the holy spear forward, aiming for Ravyn¡¯s heart again.


    But this time¡ª


    Ravyn didn¡¯t dodge. He stepped forward.


    The golden spear struck¡ªand passed through him.


    I blinked. What?!


    For a split second, Ravyn¡¯s body shimmered like glass. Like he wasn¡¯t completely there. The spear¡¯s tip exited through his back, hitting nothing but air.


    Before Mordane could react, Ravyn countered. His dagger flashed¡ªaiming low this time.


    Slash!


    A thin line of blood appeared on Mordane¡¯s side.


    The Grand Inquisitor staggered.


    It wasn¡¯t deep, but it was real. The first actual hit landed on him tonight.


    The paladins surrounding them murmured in disbelief.


    Mordane exhaled sharply, touching his wound. His fingers came away red. "Impossible¡­"


    Ravyn stepped back, twirling his dagger lazily. "Oh, no. Very possible."


    The air around him pulsed again.


    Cracks¡ªalmost invisible fractures of dark energy¡ªflickered around his feet.


    Mordane¡¯s eyes narrowed. "That ability¡­ what are you?"


    Ravyn just grinned. "Still figuring that part out myself."


    Lena and I exchanged glances.


    She whispered, "We need to move."


    I nodded. If Mordane was actually taking Ravyn seriously now, this fight was about to get a whole lot worse.


    Because for the first time tonight¡ª


    Ravyn wasn¡¯t playing around anymore.


    Mordane¡¯s expression was no longer calm. He wasn¡¯t just acknowledging Ravyn now¡ªhe was reevaluating him.


    The Grand Inquisitor stepped back slightly, golden energy flaring around him as his stance shifted. The confident, almost indifferent demeanor he had before? Gone.


    I had never seen an Inquisitor hesitate before.


    Lena exhaled quietly beside me. "This is bad."


    I nodded. If Ravyn was making Mordane react like this, it meant he wasn¡¯t just some reckless rogue who got lucky. It meant we had no idea what he was actually capable of.


    And that was terrifying.


    Ravyn tilted his head, stretching his fingers. His wounds were completely gone, his stance relaxed¡ªbut something about him had changed. That cocky, over-the-top attitude was still there, but there was a new edge to it now.


    Like a knife that had finally been sharpened.


    "So," Ravyn said, stepping forward. "Round two?"


    Mordane didn¡¯t answer.


    Instead, the entire street lit up with golden magic circles.


    I tensed. He¡¯s not holding back anymore.


    "Divine Judgment," Mordane intoned. His voice echoed unnaturally, layered with divine power.


    The magic circles exploded.


    Beams of golden light rained down from above, each one burning with divine energy. The impact shattered stone, turned debris into dust, and sent shockwaves rippling through the air. The ground beneath Ravyn cracked, engulfed in light.


    There¡¯s no way he dodged that, I thought.


    Lena cursed. Even Mark''s eyes narrowed slightly.


    And then¡ª


    A shadow flickered.


    A silhouette stepped through the smoke, untouched.


    Ravyn.


    Still standing.


    His dagger glowed faintly with dark energy, the edges lined with cracks¡ªlike reality itself had been torn slightly.


    Mordane¡¯s eyes narrowed.


    "Impossible."


    Ravyn grinned. "Man, I love hearing that."


    Then, he moved.


    Not just fast¡ªwrong.


    It wasn¡¯t speed. It wasn¡¯t teleportation. It was as if the space between where he was and where he should be simply¡­ stopped existing for a moment.


    One second he was standing in the smoke.


    The next¡ª


    He was right in front of Mordane.


    Mordane barely had time to react.


    Ravyn¡¯s dagger lashed out, aiming for his ribs¡ªonly for another golden barrier to intercept it.


    Crack!


    A visible fracture splintered through the barrier, but it held.


    Mordane¡¯s expression remained unreadable, but I could feel it now.


    He wasn¡¯t just fighting an enemy.


    He was trying to understand what he was up against.


    Ravyn clicked his tongue. "Tough one, huh?"


    Mordane didn¡¯t respond. Instead, golden chains erupted from the ground again¡ªbut this time, they didn¡¯t aim to bind Ravyn.


    They exploded.


    Ravyn disappeared into the blast, swallowed by divine energy.


    I instinctively moved forward¡ªthen stopped myself.


    No.


    I wasn¡¯t going to make the same mistake twice.


    The last time we thought Ravyn was dead¡­ well.


    The smoke cleared.


    And there he was.


    Bloodied. Coughing. But standing.


    Mordane frowned. "Why won¡¯t you die?"


    Ravyn grinned, wiping the blood from his mouth. "I did die. Kinda. Didn¡¯t stick."


    Mordane¡¯s fingers curled. "That¡­ thing you did. The reversal. That wasn¡¯t healing." His silver eyes locked onto Ravyn¡¯s, studying him like a puzzle that refused to make sense. "What are you?"


    Ravyn tilted his head, considering the question.


    Then, he smirked.


    "You¡¯ll find out."


    Then, he vanished.


    Mordane barely had time to react.


    Ravyn was gone.


    Not just moving fast¡ªhe disappeared. No sound, no flicker, no hint of his presence. One second, he was standing there, smirking. The next, empty space remained where he had been.


    Mordane¡¯s expression remained composed, but his stance shifted ever so slightly. He was finally treating this as a real fight.


    His silver eyes darted across the battlefield. His grip tightened around his conjured spear of holy energy. The paladins behind him stiffened, scanning their surroundings.


    Where is he?


    Then¡ª


    A whisper, right behind Mordane.


    "Found you."


    Mordane spun, golden energy flaring in his palm¡ª


    Too slow.


    Ravyn¡¯s dagger slashed across his ribs¡ªdeeper this time. Blood splattered against the cobblestone. Mordane hissed, staggering backward, another golden barrier flickering to life between them.


    Ravyn clicked his tongue, flicking the blood off his blade. "Almost got something vital that time."


    Mordane ignored him. His fingers pressed against his side, assessing the damage. His breathing was steady, controlled. But his eyes¡ª


    For the first time, there was something else in them.


    Doubt.


    Lena inhaled sharply beside me. "Did you see that?"


    I nodded slowly. "Yeah."


    Mordane wasn¡¯t just surprised by the attack.


    He was confused.


    Whatever just happened, he hadn¡¯t been able to track it. His divine senses¡ªhis ability to see through deception, illusions, and tricks¡ªhad failed him.


    That shouldn¡¯t have been possible.


    Mordane exhaled. "A mistake."


    Golden light pulsed outward from his body, forcing Ravyn to step back. His holy spear shimmered with renewed energy, crackling with divine power.


    "I assumed you were nothing but a rogue playing with fire," Mordane admitted. "But now I see¡­"


    His gaze locked onto Ravyn.


    "You are something unnatural."


    Ravyn¡¯s smirk widened. "You keep saying that like it¡¯s a bad thing."


    Mordane lifted his spear, his aura intensifying. "I was holding back, thinking you were an annoyance. That ends now."


    The paladins behind him moved forward, weapons raised, but Mordane lifted a hand¡ªstopping them.


    "No," he commanded. "Stay back."


    The fact that he was refusing backup sent a clear message.


    He was taking this fight personally.


    Ravyn exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders. "Finally. I was starting to think you were just another boring church boy."


    Mordane didn¡¯t take the bait. He simply raised his spear, golden magic surging through his body. The ground beneath him trembled as radiant energy built up, causing the very air around him to hum with power.


    I clenched my fists. "Lena."


    She nodded. "Yeah, I know."


    We had to move. Now.


    Whatever was about to happen next wasn¡¯t something we could just watch anymore.


    Because this fight had just escalated into something far beyond what we expected.


    A low hum pulsed through the air, thick with divine energy.


    I didn¡¯t realize what was happening at first. I thought Mordane was just gathering more power, preparing to finish Ravyn once and for all. But then I saw it¡ªthe symbols forming beneath his feet.


    Golden runes burned into the cobblestone, spreading outward like wildfire, twisting and reforming in intricate patterns. The sheer force behind them made my skin crawl.


    Lena¡¯s breath hitched. "No¡­"


    Mark, usually silent, muttered under his breath, "He¡¯s doing it here? Now?"


    I clenched my fists, forcing myself to breathe. "What the hell is he doing?"


    Lena¡¯s hands curled into fists. "*The Grand Invocation.**"


    My stomach dropped.


    He wasn¡¯t waiting. He wasn¡¯t stalling for the perfect moment.


    He was starting the damn ritual right here, right now.


    Mordane stood in the center of the glowing sigils, his expression eerily calm. "It seems I have underestimated you," he admitted, glancing at Ravyn. "Very well. I shall no longer delay."


    He extended a hand toward Elza.


    The Saintess¡ªwho had been silent this whole time¡ªfinally showed a reaction. Her brows furrowed slightly as if something deep within her had been disturbed.


    "No," she whispered. "This isn¡¯t right."


    Ravyn¡¯s smirk disappeared. "Yeah, I don¡¯t think so, either."


    Then, he moved.


    Ravyn vanished, reappearing next to Mordane in an instant, his dagger slashing toward the Grand Inquisitor¡¯s outstretched hand¡ª


    Clang!


    A golden wall erupted between them, deflecting Ravyn¡¯s strike effortlessly.


    Mordane didn¡¯t even look at him. His gaze remained locked onto Elza, his voice steady and unwavering. "In the name of the Holy Light, I offer the catalyst. May the heavens open, and may the will of the divine descend upon this land."


    The sigils burned brighter.


    The ground shook.


    A deafening sound¡ªlike a bell ringing across the entire city¡ªechoed through the air.


    "Tch¡ª!" Ravyn backed off, shielding his eyes as golden flames erupted around them. "Not good. Not good at all."


    The ritual was happening.


    And we had seconds to stop it.


    Ravyn gritted his teeth. He didn¡¯t understand magic. He didn¡¯t understand rituals.


    But he did understand one thing¡ªif he let this continue, something very bad was going to happen.


    "Screw this."


    He clenched his dagger, black energy crackling around it. Then, he did something none of us expected.


    He didn¡¯t attack Mordane.


    He attacked the runes.


    With a single strike, Ravyn plunged his dagger into the golden sigils on the ground.


    BOOM!


    A shockwave exploded outward, tearing through the ritual circle. The golden runes flickered, shattering in fragmented bursts of light.


    For a brief, glorious moment¡ª


    It worked.


    The ritual staggered.


    The sigils stopped expanding. The bell¡¯s ringing wavered. The sky¡ªonce shifting ominously¡ªseemed to hesitate.


    "Ha!" Ravyn grinned wildly. "That actually worked¡ª"


    And then the world went wrong.


    A crack split through the air.


    Not the sound of stone breaking.


    Not the sound of something physical shattering.


    But something deeper. Reality itself trembled.


    A pulse of golden light burst from the remnants of the ritual circle, and suddenly, the ground beneath Mordane collapsed.


    A massive golden something¡ªa structure, a pillar, a gateway¡ªerupted from below, twisting into the sky.


    Ravyn stumbled backward. "What the actual¡ª"


    Mordane finally moved.


    Not with the cold, precise movements of an Inquisitor, but with raw ferocity. His once measured stance was gone. Instead, he lifted his hand to the sky, and divine power roared to life around him like a sun preparing to explode.


    "Enough."


    Golden light spiraled upward, condensing into a single, devastating force.


    Then¡ª


    A massive golden meteor formed above the battlefield.


    "Holy hell¡ª" I barely managed to breathe.


    It wasn¡¯t just a spell.


    It was divine judgment made manifest.


    Mordane¡¯s voice no longer carried the tone of a man. It was layered¡ªdeeper, more final. "You have interfered long enough. If this kingdom must burn to complete the will of the divine, then so be it."


    The air turned heavy. The pressure alone nearly crushed me.


    "Lena¡ª!"


    "We have to move!" she shouted.


    But Ravyn?


    He didn¡¯t move.


    He looked up at the descending golden meteor, then back at Mordane.


    And for the first time since this fight started¡ª


    He looked pissed.


    No smirk. No grin.


    Just raw, focused rage.


    Ravyn tightened his grip on his dagger. Then¡ª


    Crack.


    The space around him fractured.


    Then, he vanished.


    Mordane barely had time to react before Ravyn appeared above him.


    His dagger plunged down¡ªblack energy spiraling around it like a vortex¡ªaiming straight for Mordane¡¯s skull.


    The impact shattered the air.


    The sound was deafening. The force was beyond anything human.


    For a brief second, it looked like Ravyn had done it.


    That he had finally landed the finishing blow.


    Then¡ª


    Mordane caught the dagger with his bare hand.


    The air stopped.


    Lena inhaled sharply. "No way..."


    Ravyn¡¯s eyes widened. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me¡ª"


    Then, Mordane changed.


    His entire body went rigid. His golden aura twisted, distorting into something else entirely.


    For the first time, the Grand Inquisitor staggered.


    And when he spoke¡ª


    It wasn¡¯t his voice anymore.


    "...Where am I?"


    Silence.


    Ravyn slowly stepped back.


    Mordane¡ªif he was Mordane anymore¡ªstared at his own hands as if seeing them for the first time. His entire posture, his expression¡ªeverything was different.


    He turned his gaze to Ravyn.


    "Who are you?"


    Ravyn blinked. "What?"


    Mordane looked around, eyes scanning the battlefield, the ruined city, the still-descending meteor.


    "Where¡­ is this place?"


    For the first time in this entire battle¡ª


    I wasn¡¯t afraid of the Grand Inquisitor.


    I was afraid of whoever was standing in his body now.


    The battlefield was silent.


    The Grand Inquisitor¡ªif he could even be called that anymore¡ªstood motionless, his golden aura no longer radiating hostility, but something far worse.


    Absolute uncertainty.


    Ravyn took a cautious step back, gripping his dagger tightly. His usual smirk was long gone, replaced by something resembling unease.


    The figure slowly raised a hand, looking at his own palm with a curious expression. It was the same body¡ªMordane¡¯s armor, his robes, his presence¡ªbut the way he moved, the way his eyes scanned the world around him¡­


    It wasn¡¯t him anymore.


    "Where... am I?" The voice that left his mouth was layered, detached, like someone waking from an impossibly long sleep.


    Ravyn didn¡¯t answer. Neither did I. Neither did anyone.


    Then, before anyone could react¡ª


    Mordane¡ªor whatever had taken over him¡ªstepped forward.


    And in one impossibly fast motion, he reached out and touched Ravyn¡¯s face.


    The rogue¡¯s entire body went rigid. His dagger trembled in his grip, his breathing caught in his throat.


    I barely restrained the instinct to jump in. But something in the air¡ªsomething deep¡ªkept me frozen.


    The figure tilted his head slightly, thumb tracing over the blood splattered on Ravyn¡¯s cheek, as if studying him. As if trying to understand.


    Then, quietly¡ªalmost to himself¡ªhe murmured:


    "Ah¡­ I see now."


    Ravyn swallowed hard. "Do you?"


    The figure blinked once, then slowly turned his head upward.


    The golden meteor¡ªstill looming above the city, still radiating divine destruction¡ªwas moments away from impact.


    The earth trembled beneath its weight. The paladins who had been watching in reverence finally realized something was wrong, panic flashing in their eyes.


    The figure¡ªthis higher being¡ªsimply exhaled.


    Then, with effortless grace, he raised a single hand.


    And stopped the meteor.


    Not with an explosion of magic. Not with force or resistance.


    He simply willed it to stop.


    And it did.


    The golden flames flickered, then died. The massive, apocalyptic mass of energy that had been moments away from turning the kingdom into dust simply... unraveled. Like an artist erasing a brushstroke.


    The sky, once twisted with divine fury, returned to its natural state. The trembling earth stilled. The chaotic hum of holy energy that had filled the battlefield simply ceased.


    It was over.


    Not because Ravyn had won.


    Not because Mordane had been defeated.


    But because whoever had taken over didn¡¯t want to fight.


    The figure lowered his hand and looked around again, confusion still lingering in his eyes.


    Seeing the situation we all go down, checking to see if Ravyn and the Saintess are alright.


    The silence that followed was unnatural. The battlefield¡ªonce filled with divine fury, destruction, and chaos¡ªwas now eerily still.


    The golden meteor was gone.


    The ritual had stopped.


    And yet, none of us could relax.


    My heart was pounding in my chest, my mind racing to process what had just happened. Ravyn was winning¡ªor at least not dying¡ªthen Mordane just¡­ changed.


    And now?


    Now, we had a higher being standing in the middle of a ruined street, completely uninterested in destroying us.


    I didn¡¯t know if that was better or worse.


    Lena and I exchanged a glance. She gave me a sharp nod. No words needed. We had to move.


    "Let¡¯s go," I muttered, leaping from the rooftop.


    Mark followed without hesitation, landing with a solid thud behind us.


    Lena was right beside me, her posture tense, ready for a fight¡ªthough I wasn¡¯t sure what we were even supposed to fight against anymore.


    Gabriel was the last to come down, though he stumbled more than jumped. His hands were still shaking, his eyes locked onto the thing wearing Mordane¡¯s body.


    But right now, that wasn¡¯t my priority.


    I rushed toward Ravyn first.


    He was still standing¡ªbarely. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, his dagger hanging loosely in his grip. He wasn¡¯t smirking anymore.


    For once, Ravyn genuinely looked unsure of what to do.


    "Ravyn!" I called, coming to his side. "Are you¡ª?"


    "I''m fine," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual cocky edge.


    My gaze flickered to his face. His skin was pale, his forehead damp with sweat.


    He was not fine.


    But before I could push him further, a soft voice cut through the silence.


    "I am unharmed."


    Elza.


    I turned quickly, my stomach twisting.


    The Saintess stood a few feet away, untouched. Not a scratch on her. Her robes still glowed faintly with divine light, but something in her posture was¡­ different.


    She was staring at Mordane. Or rather¡ªwhat was left of him.


    Her usually calm expression showed something I had never seen before.


    Not fear.


    Not relief.


    But deep, unsettled curiosity.


    Like she had just seen something she recognized¡ªbut couldn¡¯t quite understand.


    My gut told me that was important.


    I took a slow breath, steadying myself. "Alright," I muttered, scanning the others. "Ravyn¡¯s alive. The Saintess is safe. That just leaves¡ª"


    I hesitated.


    Because the final problem¡ªthe biggest problem¡ªwas standing right in front of us.


    The being that used to be Grand Inquisitor Mordane.


    It was still just¡­ standing there. Watching us. Studying us.


    Waiting.


    Lena exhaled, gripping her daggers. "So¡­ what now?*"


    No one had an answer.


    The figure tilted its head, silver eyes scanning each of us with unsettling curiosity. It wasn¡¯t hostile. It wasn¡¯t afraid. It was simply¡­ observing.


    Then, it spoke.


    "Where am I? Who are you?"


    Its voice was layered, distant¡ªlike an echo that had traveled across time itself.


    I forced myself to breathe, stepping forward cautiously.


    "Before we answer that," I said carefully, "who are you? What was the last thing you remembered?"


    The figure blinked slowly, as if considering the question. Then, in a calm, almost casual tone, it replied:


    "Remembered? Hmm¡­ I remember dying."


    A chill crawled up my spine.


    "I was a soul for a very, very long time¡­ just floating in the endless dark. Then, I saw the light." The figure gestured slightly, as if recalling something far beyond our comprehension. "And then¡­ here I am."


    Silence.


    Ravyn muttered something under his breath that I knew wasn¡¯t appropriate for holy company.


    Gabriel looked like he was about to faint.


    Lena, on the other hand, exhaled sharply. "So, let me get this straight¡­" she said, voice tight. "You died¡­ and then just woke up in Mordane¡¯s body?"


    The figure¡ªwhatever it was¡ªtilted its head again. "Mordane?" It repeated the name like it was foreign to it.


    It didn¡¯t recognize the name.


    I clenched my fists. "Then who were you before you died?"


    The figure frowned slightly, as if genuinely trying to remember. A moment passed.


    Then another.


    Then¡ª


    "I¡­ don¡¯t know."


    That was the moment I realized something very, very wrong had just happened.


    But before I could even ask another question, my eyes flickered past the figure¡ªto the paladins standing behind him.


    They weren¡¯t moving.


    They weren¡¯t attacking.


    They were just¡­ standing there.


    Their expressions weren¡¯t filled with righteous fury or determination like before. Instead, they looked at each other, their faces twisted in sheer confusion.


    They didn¡¯t know what to do.


    Makes sense, I thought grimly. Their Grand Inquisitor, the man who commanded them, the strongest holy warrior of the kingdom, had been completely taken over by something else.


    And whatever had replaced him?


    It didn¡¯t want to fight.


    It didn¡¯t want to finish the ritual.


    It didn¡¯t even seem to care about them.


    Lena nudged me slightly, her voice low. "Eli¡­ this could turn ugly real fast."


    I nodded slowly. The paladins looked unsure now, but the moment someone gave an order¡ªwhether it was from another high-ranking officer or just their instincts kicking in¡ªthis entire situation could explode into violence.


    The problem was¡­


    I wasn¡¯t sure if we were the ones in danger.


    Or if they were.


    I tensed, ready to dodge, my mind racing for a plan in case things went sideways.


    Then¡ª


    "I¡¯m hungry."


    I blinked.


    Lena blinked.


    Even Ravyn, still catching his breath, looked at me like he had misheard something.


    But the figure wasn¡¯t joking. His silver eyes shifted toward the paladins behind him, his expression still unreadable.


    "Get me food," he ordered. Then, after a pause, "And call everyone."*


    The paladins froze.


    They stiffened at the command, eyes darting between each other, their bodies tense with hesitation.


    It wasn¡¯t just because of the order itself.


    It was how he said it.


    Like it was something natural. Like it was something he was supposed to do.


    Did he actually know what he was doing?


    Or was he simply... acting on instinct?


    A chill crawled up my spine.


    Lena leaned in slightly. "Eli," she whispered, "what the hell is happening right now?"


    I had no idea.


    But one thing was clear.


    Whoever or whatever had taken over Mordane wasn¡¯t leaving anytime soon.

 Chapter 10: Skill Eater

    "Hey!" Father Gabriel finally spoke, his voice snapping through the tense atmosphere. "My church isn¡¯t a damn meeting place! Why are we here?"


    We all turned to look at Valen Mordane¡ªor at least his body.


    Lena narrowed her eyes. "So, who really are you?"


    The figure¡ªnow clearly not Mordane¡ªsighed. "Like I said, I was a soul. Well, to be exact, I was a sword master in my past life."


    His expression shifted, the faint confidence in his stance suddenly twisting into something else¡ªfear.


    "Wait," he muttered. "What year is it?"


    Lena answered without hesitation. "112 A. Why?"


    The man¡¯s face completely changed. "It¡¯s been 1,000 years?!"


    My stomach dropped.


    The room fell into dead silence.


    Lena¡¯s brow furrowed. "You¡¯re telling me you¡¯ve been dead for a millennium?"


    The count of the year in this world¡¯s calendar changes every ten years.


    He suddenly reached for his face, his fingers running over his jaw, almost as if he had forgotten it wasn¡¯t his own.


    Then, with a slow breath, he straightened himself. "Well¡­ I think I remember my name."


    He looked up at us, silver eyes flickering with something unreadable.


    "It¡¯s Javier Abadiano."


    I stared at him, trying to piece everything together, but something else was bothering me.


    I felt his gaze settle on me again. Not just casually. Not like he was just scanning the room.


    No¡ªhe was actively watching me.


    I tensed.


    Why does he keep looking at me?


    A cold realization hit me.


    Wait¡­ is he gay?!


    His voice broke the tension.


    "Let me get this right," he said slowly, rubbing his temples. "I¡¯m in the body of Valen Mordane, I¡¯m a Grand Inquisitor, and now I have to keep acting like him¡­ correct?"


    Without hesitation, all of our voices harmonized.


    "Yes."


    Javier blinked, looking around at us like we had just forced a divine burden onto his shoulders.


    Ravyn was the first to break, snickering under his breath. "Man, sucks to be you."


    Javier exhaled, muttering something in a language I didn¡¯t recognize before pinching the bridge of his nose. "A thousand years dead, and the first thing I have to do is play politics? Unbelievable."


    Lena crossed her arms. "Well, you could always tell everyone the truth¡ªsee how that goes for you."


    "Yeah, No thanks."


    A sudden, deafening thud echoed from the church doors.


    Boom!


    "THIS IS THE INQUISITION! OPEN THE DOOR!"


    Before we could even process it, another voice shouted over the first.


    "MOVE, MOVE!"


    Heavy footsteps. Armor clanking. A full squad.


    Then, a third voice¡ªlouder, more commanding, filled with barely contained rage.


    "VALEN MORDANE! COME OUT!"


    The air in the church turned ice cold.


    Javier¡ªformerly Valen¡ªstiffened. His silver eyes darted toward the entrance.


    Lena¡¯s hand shot to her daggers. "Great. So much for a breather."


    Ravyn groaned. "Why do they always have such bad timing?"


    Gabriel looked ready to pass out. "I TOLD YOU ALL THIS WOULD HAPPEN!"


    But before any of us could react¡ª


    A quiet voice, barely above a whisper, cut through the chaos.


    The Saintess¡ªwho had remained eerily silent this entire time¡ªfinally spoke.


    Her golden eyes widened slightly. Her hands trembled just the smallest bit.


    And then¡ª


    "Dad?"


    The room froze.


    My breath caught in my throat.


    Wait¡­ what?


    The doors slammed open.


    A wave of armored figures poured in¡ªholy knights, their polished armor gleaming in the dim light of the church. They moved with brutal efficiency, weapons drawn, shields raised, ready to strike at a moment¡¯s notice.


    And at the center of it all, standing at the threshold, was a man who radiated absolute authority.


    Baron Callis Evendawn.


    His piercing gaze swept across the room before locking onto Javier¡ªValen Mordane¡¯s body. His face twisted in sheer disdain.


    "Tsk." The Baron clicked his tongue, stepping forward. "Valen Mordane, you have breached our contract."


    His voice boomed through the church, thick with anger and control.


    Then, his eyes landed on Elza.


    "And my daughter¡ªgive her back!"


    The Saintess stood still, her expression unreadable. She didn¡¯t run to him. She didn¡¯t move at all.


    Javier, however, did move.


    He straightened his posture, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off stiffness. Then, in the most casual tone imaginable, he spoke.


    "Your daughter?" Javier raised an eyebrow. "You mean the one you tried to sacrifice?"


    The room shifted.


    Some of the knights faltered. Their fingers tightened around their weapons.


    But Baron Callis? He didn¡¯t even flinch.


    Javier crossed his arms. "Yeah. I¡¯m not giving her to you."


    The Baron¡¯s eyes darkened. "Do you not see the situation right now?"


    He stepped aside slightly, letting the torchlight spill onto the outside streets¡ªrevealing dozens more holy knights, standing in perfect formation.


    A full army.


    Lena inhaled sharply. "Well, shit."


    The Baron exhaled slowly, his voice calm but dangerous. "I don¡¯t know what made you change your mind, Valen. I don¡¯t care."


    His tone dropped lower, colder.


    "But right now¡­ you¡¯re as good as dead."


    The Saintess stepped forward, her golden eyes unwavering as she faced her father.


    "Father," she said, her voice calm but cutting, "do you really think that if you kill all of us, you can just hide it?"


    Without a second thought, Baron Callis Evendawn replied, his expression unreadable.


    "Yes," he said. "I can."


    No hesitation. No doubt.


    Lena sucked in a sharp breath. Even some of the knights flinched at how casually he admitted it.


    But Elza didn¡¯t look surprised. In fact, she expected it.


    "I knew you would say that," she said, her voice steady. "Which is why I already prepared for such a case. Just let us leave the kingdom peacefully, and this news won¡¯t spread."


    The Baron narrowed his eyes. "Hah. Are you threatening me? And who would even side with you?"


    Elza¡¯s lips curved into the slightest smile.


    "The High Pontiff."


    The change in the Baron¡¯s face was instant.


    His entire body tensed. His once calm and overbearing demeanor cracked, his jaw tightening. His fingers twitched at his sides.


    For the first time since entering, he hesitated.


    Then¡ªhe clicked his tongue in frustration.


    "Tsk. Fuck." His teeth clenched as he turned to the knights. "Let them through."


    The knights immediately stiffened. Some exchanged glances, clearly caught off guard, but no one questioned it.


    A path opened.


    Just like that.


    Gabriel, who had been frozen in pure terror this entire time, finally spoke up in a rushed whisper.


    "Hey, I live here. Am I supposed to just go with you guys now?!"


    I sighed. "Yeah, pretty much."


    Gabriel buried his face in his hands. "Son of a bitch¡­"


    ...


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    The wagon shifted and creaked, the wooden wheels groaning under the weight of our escape. The kingdom¡¯s towering walls were fading into the distance, swallowed by the night.


    Inside, Father Gabriel sat with his arms crossed, looking absolutely miserable.


    "What the hell?!" he suddenly burst out. "I got kicked out of my own church! And my kingdom!"


    I leaned back against the wooden side of the wagon, exhaling. "It¡¯s better than being dead."


    Gabriel shot me a glare. "Oh, thank you, Eli. That makes me feel so much better!"


    Lena, who had been massaging her temples, groaned. "Just shut up, Gabriel."


    Gabriel immediately straightened up, his expression shifting. "Yes, my angel, it is an honor to hear my name come out of your mouth."


    Lena froze, her eye twitching.


    Gabriel wisely shut up and just sat down.


    Ravyn, who had been eerily quiet this whole time, finally spoke up.


    "Apologies, Saintess, if this wagon does not suit your taste."


    I blinked.


    Lena blinked.


    Even Gabriel briefly forgot his misery to glance at him.


    Why the hell is he talking so formally?


    Elza, sitting across from him, remained composed. Her soft, calm voice reached our ears.


    "It¡¯s fine," she said. "And please, call me Elza. I am no longer a Saintess."


    Ravyn nodded slightly. "Understood."


    Then he leaned back, arms crossed, staring out at the road like nothing was weird at all.


    I exchanged a glance with Lena.


    She mouthed, What the fuck?


    I had no idea either.


    "Ravyn," I said, narrowing my eyes. "What was that? How did you come back from the dead¡ªtwice?"


    He barely even glanced at me. "Huh? Why do you care?!"


    I stared at him. "Why do I care?"


    Gabriel threw his hands up. "Because normal people don¡¯t just revive mid-battle like it¡¯s a casual Tuesday!"


    Lena scoffed. "Yeah, what the hell was that? You got impaled, and the next thing we know, you¡¯re standing back up like nothing happened."


    Ravyn sighed dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ugh. Why are you all so obsessed with me?"


    Mark, who had been silent this whole time, finally spoke.


    "Answer the question."


    The entire wagon went silent.


    Even Ravyn paused for a second.


    Then he sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Tch. Fine."


    He looked at me, his usual arrogance slightly dimmed.


    "Look, I don¡¯t know the details, alright? It just happens. I die. I come back. Shattered Death or some crap." He shrugged. "Not like I chose to have it."


    Lena frowned. "So you don¡¯t know the full extent of your own ability?"


    Ravyn grinned. "Nope. But it sure as hell keeps things exciting, huh?"


    Gabriel buried his face in his hands. "We''re all so screwed."


    "Is it a divine blessing?" I asked, watching him closely.


    Ravyn let out a dry chuckle. "Divine blessing? More like a curse."


    His usual smug expression faltered for just a second¡ªjust long enough for me to notice.


    Lena caught it too. "A curse, huh?" she muttered, tapping her fingers against the wooden bench. "That mean you can''t die? Or is there a limit?"


    Ravyn shrugged. "Haven''t exactly tested it."


    Gabriel peeked up from his hands. "So what, do we just assume you can keep dying over and over like some kind of immortal idiot?"


    Ravyn grinned. "Hey, if you wanna stab me and find out, be my guest."


    Gabriel actually looked like he was considering it.


    I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Well, whether it¡¯s a blessing or a curse, you¡¯re still standing, so I guess it doesn¡¯t matter right now."


    Elza, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke.


    "I wouldn¡¯t be so sure about that."


    All of us turned to her.


    She met Ravyn¡¯s gaze, her golden eyes steady. "A power like that¡­ it always comes with a price."


    Ravyn¡¯s smirk didn¡¯t waver, but I saw the slight tension in his jaw.


    "Yeah?" he said casually. "Guess I¡¯ll worry about that when the bill comes due."


    I turned my attention to Mark, who was quietly steering the wagon, his massive frame barely shifting with the bumps in the road.


    "Hey, Mark," I asked, "where are we going?"


    Without missing a beat, he responded.


    "Home."


    I frowned. "Home?"


    Lena raised an eyebrow. "You mean our home, right? Not, like, some cryptic nonsense?"


    Mark simply nodded.


    Ravyn stretched his arms behind his head. "Oh, finally. I could use some rest after, you know, dying twice."


    Gabriel groaned. "You died, got kicked out of a kingdom, and your biggest concern is rest?"


    Ravyn smirked. "Well, that and food. But yeah, mostly rest."


    I sighed, leaning back against the wagon. "Home, huh?"


    Something about that word made me uneasy.


    Because for me?


    I wasn¡¯t even sure where that was anymore.


    ...


    The wagon finally came to a halt.


    I recognized the spot instantly¡ªthe same familiar rock, slightly weathered but unmistakable.


    Elza peered out from the wagon, her golden eyes scanning the area. "Is this where you guys live?"


    Ravyn, without a word, hopped out first. He strode over to the rock and placed his hand against its rough surface.


    A soft click echoed, followed by a deep, mechanical grinding noise.


    The rock shifted.


    Stone rumbled as the concealed entrance unlocked, revealing a dark passage leading into the hideout. Cool air drifted from within, carrying the scent of earth and something old.


    Ravyn glanced back at us, smirking.


    "Come inside."


    The moment the entrance opened, Ravyn vanished inside without another word, leaving the rest of us standing outside the wagon.


    Gabriel crossed his arms, scowling. "Why is he in such a rush?"


    Without even thinking, all of us answered at the same time.


    "We don¡¯t know."


    Gabriel threw his hands up. "Of course! Why do I even bother asking?!"


    Lena sighed, stepping off the wagon. "Let¡¯s just go inside before he does something stupid."


    I followed, glancing toward the now-open entrance. Something about Ravyn¡¯s sudden disappearance felt off.


    He wasn¡¯t just eager to be home.


    He was running toward something. Or maybe¡­ away from something.


    And I was wrong. Very wrong.


    The hideout was completely different from how we had left it.


    The piles of gold, weapons, and stolen goods that were once scattered everywhere were now neatly stored in organized stacks.


    The dust-covered tables? Wiped clean.


    The mess of old maps, empty bottles, and half-eaten food? Gone.


    It didn¡¯t look like a rogue hideout anymore. It looked¡­ livable.


    I stepped further inside, trying to process what I was seeing.


    "How the hell¡­?"


    Lena frowned, crossing her arms. "Did we¡­ get robbed, but like, in reverse?"


    Gabriel blinked. "Okay, who did this? Because I know for a fact it wasn¡¯t Mark."


    Mark shook his head. "No."


    I slowly turned to the only person missing from the wagon.


    Lena caught on immediately. "No way."


    We all turned the corner¡ª


    And there he was.


    Ravyn.


    Sitting at a table, casually drinking from a stolen wine bottle, looking completely unbothered.


    Gabriel pointed at him. "YOU?!"


    Ravyn raised an eyebrow. "Me?"


    I gestured around the room. "You did all of this?!"


    He shrugged, taking another sip. "Yeah. So?"


    Lena stared at him like he had grown a second head. "You¡ªYou don''t clean. You cause messes. You are a mess."


    Ravyn stretched lazily. "And yet, here we are."


    Gabriel collapsed into a chair. "I have seen too much today."


    I was still struggling to understand it. "But... why?"


    Ravyn finally smirked. "Had to do something while I was waiting for you guys. And, well¡­" He leaned back, kicking his feet up on the table.


    "Figured you¡¯d be extra confused."


    "You did this in what? Minutes?" I asked, still trying to process what I was looking at. "You were just barely in front of us earlier!"


    Ravyn, without missing a beat, turned to Elza and said, "Yes."


    Silence.


    We all slowly turned to look at each other, realization sinking in at the exact same time.


    "... Ohhh."


    Lena sighed, rubbing her temples. "Right. Of course. Super speed, or some broken rogue skill, or whatever ridiculous ability you have."


    Gabriel just slumped against a wall. "I''m too tired for this."


    Ravyn smirked. "You should¡¯ve seen your faces, though."


    Javier, who hadn¡¯t spoken since we left the kingdom, suddenly tugged my arm.


    I turned, startled. "What?"


    His silver eyes met mine, his expression unreadable. "I need to talk to you."


    My mind immediately went to the worst possible conclusion.


    What the hell? Is he gonna confess to me?!


    Lena, who had been sipping from a flask, choked.


    Ravyn, ever the menace, grinned. "Oho? Eli, didn¡¯t take you for the type to attract ancient swordsmen."


    Gabriel, horrified, leaned away from us like he had just witnessed a crime.


    I cleared my throat, taking a step back. "Uh¡­ talk about what?"


    Javier¡¯s grip tightened.


    "Privately."


    Oh hell no.


    In a small room with only a dim light flickering above us, Javier stepped closer to my face.


    WHAT THE HELL?!


    Instinct kicked in.


    I shoved him back. "Dude, personal space!"


    Javier barely stumbled, just blinking at me. "Ah, sorry." His voice was calm, completely unbothered. "I was just curious about you having Zareth¡¯s Eye."


    My blood froze.


    "Pardon?" My voice came out a little too sharp. "Zareth?"


    Javier tilted his head, studying me.


    Shit. Shit.


    If he knew about Zareth, then he might figure out I wasn¡¯t from this world.


    I forced my expression to stay neutral, but my mind was racing.


    I had no idea if he was friend or enemy.


    And right now?


    I couldn¡¯t afford to slip up.


    "Yes, Zareth," Javier said, his voice calm¡ªtoo calm. "I remember him. And how he tortured me to death."


    I exhaled sharply. That sounds like something he would do.


    Javier''s gaze slowly drifted downward, landing on Nyxrend.


    His silver eyes narrowed slightly. "And that sword¡­ I originally wielded it."


    My grip on Nyxrend tightened.


    For a moment, the air in the room felt heavier. Was he about to demand it back? Was this going to turn into a fight?


    But before I could overthink it further, Javier raised a hand in a calm gesture.


    "Don''t worry," he said. "You can keep it. And you don¡¯t have to answer about the eye."


    I hesitated. What?


    Javier folded his arms. "I actually called you in here for a whole different reason."


    I didn¡¯t relax just yet. "Which is?"


    Javier¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change. "The icon on top of your head."


    I blinked. "What?"


    Instinctively, I glanced up. Nothing. Just empty air.


    Javier exhaled, shaking his head. "Ah, my bad. Of course, you wouldn¡¯t see anything." He cleared his throat, his silver eyes narrowing. "But I do."


    He hesitated for a moment before saying, "An eye surrounded by a set of teeth."


    A chill ran down my spine.


    I had never heard anything about an icon being above me. Never felt anything unusual.


    But the way he said it¡ªso casually, yet serious¡ªsent a clear message.


    This wasn¡¯t something normal.


    Javier crossed his arms. "I must warn you¡ªSkill Eater is an incredibly powerful skill to possess. There are two versions of it, and the one you have is the first."


    I clenched my fists. "And what does that mean?"


    Javier¡¯s gaze flickered above my head again, as if reading something only he could see.


    "The one you have," he continued, "helps you adapt to situations and learn fast."


    I swallowed. That¡­ explained a lot.


    "And the other version?" I asked carefully.


    Javier¡¯s silver eyes darkened.


    "The other one," he said, his voice quieter now, "is exactly what the name suggests."


    He paused.


    "It eats skills."


    I narrowed my eyes. "Wait, how did you see an icon?" I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "Can anyone see it?"


    Javier let out a short laugh. "Hahaha, you shouldn''t worry."


    Before I could react, he grabbed my shoulders, his grip firm.


    "I can only see it because¡­" He paused, silver eyes locking onto mine.


    "Because I also wield it."


    Wait¡­ what?


    I tensed. "Hold on¡ªwhat?"


    Javier let go of my shoulders and sighed. "Remember when I said Zareth tortured me? He did that to make sure I would never be able to use Skill Eater again."


    My stomach dropped.


    Zareth wasn¡¯t just cruel¡ªhe was meticulous. If he went that far, it meant he saw Javier as an actual threat.


    I swallowed. "How did he find out?"


    Javier¡¯s expression darkened slightly, like he was recalling something distant¡ªsomething he regretted.


    "I was hungry for power." He clenched his jaw. "And thus¡­ I revealed myself."


    "Hungry for power?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "What do you mean?"


    Javier exhaled, his lips curling into a small, almost bitter grin.


    "Well, I was hungry for power. I couldn¡¯t stop." He crossed his arms, leaning back slightly. "I wanted more, to the point where I set my sights on stealing from the Number One Demon Lord."


    I froze. "Mor''Zhul?"


    Javier nodded. "And I failed miserably."


    I swallowed hard. "How far did you get?"


    His grin widened slightly. "I stole their skills up to the 9th Demon Lord."


    I felt my breath hitch.


    "Steal? Stole?"*


    I clenched my fists. "Wait. If you steal their skills, does that mean they lose them? Like, they just¡­ can¡¯t use them anymore?"


    Javier chuckled. "Go ahead and ask your questions."


    I steadied myself. "The way you¡¯re describing Skill Eater¡­ you had the second version, correct?"


    "Yes."


    "Then, when you stole their skills, did you actually take them away? Were they left powerless?"


    Javier shook his head. "Not exactly. I didn¡¯t truly steal them."


    I frowned. "Then what did you do?"


    He tapped his temple. "I copied their powers. Perfectly."


    My stomach dropped.


    That was¡­ insanely powerful.


    One more question burned in my mind. I hesitated, then asked, "Can you still use it? The powers? The Skill Eater?"


    Javier paused. Then, in a calm voice, he said,


    "Yes. Eventually."


    I tensed. "Eventually?"


    He smirked. "Currently, I can only use 1% of my power."


    Before I could ask anything else, the door creaked open.


    Mark stepped in without a word, his towering frame casting a long shadow over the dimly lit room.


    He didn¡¯t speak. Instead, he raised a hand and made a simple gesture¡ªa sharp motion toward the door, then tapping his fingers together.


    Dinner.


    I glanced at Javier, who simply nodded as if nothing we had just talked about was out of the ordinary.


    "Guess that¡¯s our cue," I muttered.


    Javier smirked. "I am starving."


    With that, we stepped out of the room and followed Mark toward the dining table.


    The dining hall was lively¡ªa stark contrast to the storm inside my head.


    Laughter echoed as plates clattered, wine poured freely, and the faint scent of roasted meat and fresh bread filled the air. Lena and Gabriel were already bickering about something stupid, while Ravyn was way too focused on stuffing his face. Even Elza, despite everything that had happened, sat calmly at the table, sipping her drink like nothing was out of place.


    And yet¡­ I barely heard any of it.


    Because my mind was elsewhere.


    Javier¡¯s words lingered in my head.


    "I copied their powers. Perfectly."


    I gripped the edge of the table, staring down at my reflection in the silver plate.


    Skill Eater.


    I had barely scratched the surface of what I could do. Javier had copied the abilities of nine Demon Lords. And if that was the second version of Skill Eater¡­ then what was the first version¡¯s true potential?


    Could I¡­ surpass him?


    Could I surpass everyone?


    If I kept growing stronger, if I truly mastered Skill Eater¡ªthen wouldn¡¯t I be able to stand against anyone?


    Even the Demon Lords?


    I exhaled slowly.


    The thought was dangerous. Reckless. But it had already taken root in my mind.


    Did I really need to choose between humans or demons?


    What if I became powerful enough that it didn¡¯t matter?


    What if I simply killed them all?


    I clenched my fists. No. That wasn¡¯t the plan. That wasn¡¯t the mission.


    And yet¡­


    "Eli?"


    I blinked, snapping back to reality.


    Lena was staring at me, one eyebrow raised. "You okay? You¡¯ve been spacing out for like, a full minute."


    Gabriel, already a little tipsy, waved his cup dramatically. "He¡¯s just thinking about how screwed we all are!"


    Ravyn, mouth full, snorted. "Let him overthink. More food for me."


    I forced a smirk. "Nah, just¡­ taking it all in."


    Lena studied me for a second longer before shrugging. "Whatever you say."


    Javier, across the table, met my gaze briefly. He knew what I was thinking. He could see it.


    But he didn¡¯t say anything.


    For now, I let the tension slip away.


    I pushed the thoughts aside, picked up my fork, and joined in on the chaos.


    Because tonight¡ªfor once¡ªfelt normal.

 Chapter 11: Kingdom of Aurewyn

    "Ah, he has grown so much," Gabriel says, his voice thick with exaggerated sentiment.


    Before I can question what he means, Ravyn''s voice cuts through. "Don¡¯t forget to send letters."


    Wait. What?


    I glance around in confusion, only to see Ravyn fake crying, dabbing at nonexistent tears.


    "Hold on¡ªwhy am I getting kicked out?" I demand, crossing my arms. "And why the hell is he acting like I¡¯m leaving forever?"


    Ravyn immediately claps a hand on my shoulder, grinning. "Well, you did say you wanted to get stronger, right? So I''m sending you off to train. Listen, it''s a mission!"


    "A mission?" I repeat, narrowing my eyes. "Wouldn''t sticking with you guys be enough training?"


    "Nah." Ravyn waves me off like it¡¯s the most obvious thing in the world.


    Meanwhile, Gabriel clasps his hands together and starts praying. "Oh, merciful heavens, may you guide this young one to another woman, lest he continue to disgrace himself by lusting after my Lena."


    "What the¡ª?!" I whip my head toward him. "That''s not¡ª"


    Ravyn tightens his grip on my shoulder and leans in conspiratorially. "Don''t worry. We''ll take good care of your beloved Porky while you''re gone."


    I swear I hear him snicker.


    My eye twitches. This has to be a joke. Right?


    I stand in front of the entrance to our base. It¡¯s closed.


    "I guess not," I mutter under my breath.


    Just as I¡¯m about to turn away, a shadow looms over me. A large figure steps into view, and instinct kicks in¡ªI immediately grip Nyxrend, ready for anything.


    It¡¯s Mark.


    He says nothing, just silently holds out a map. I take it, scanning the details. His finger moves, pointing at a particular location¡ªThe Kingdom of Aurewyn. Then, just beside it, a smaller, more ominous place¡ªKorthyn Mire. A crude drawing of a demon is scribbled next to the name.


    I raise an eyebrow. "So I go to the place with the demon drawing, huh?"


    Mark just nods.


    "Thanks, I guess better than nothing to do."


    And with that he waved me off. Wait.. I have to walk all the way there..


    "FUCK!"


    ...


    The journey to Aurewyn was hell.


    Not because of monsters. Not because of bandits. Not because of some grand, life-threatening battle.


    No. It was because I was broke.


    The first few hours, I thought, Alright, this isn¡¯t so bad. Just a little walking.


    Then the sun rose higher, and I realized something horrifying¡ªI had no food. No water. Nothing.


    By the time I hit the second day, my legs felt like lead, my stomach was performing a full orchestra of betrayal, and I had started hallucinating about Porky carrying me to safety.


    At one point, I found a small pond and considered drinking from it¡­ until I saw a frog sitting smugly on a rock, as if daring me to try.


    I kept walking.


    By the third day, I was dying. Not in a dramatic, heroic way¡ªjust the miserable, pathetic kind where you start wondering if grass is edible. (Spoiler: it¡¯s not. I tried.)


    When I finally reached Aurewyn¡¯s gates, I must have looked like a half-dead vagabond because the guards immediately crossed their spears in front of me.


    "Halt! State your business!" one of them commanded.


    I opened my mouth, but instead of words, a dry croak came out.


    The other guard narrowed his eyes. "Uh¡­ is he okay?"


    I tried again. "W¡­ water¡­"


    They exchanged glances.


    ¡°¡­Should we give him something?¡±


    "He''s not even armed," the first guard pointed out.


    I was armed. My sword was literally strapped to my back. That¡¯s how weak I was¡ªI wasn¡¯t even registering as a threat.


    Moments later, they sat me down by the gate, handed me a chunk of bread and a waterskin, and watched as I devoured it like a starving beast.


    "...Should we ask who he is?"


    "Let him eat first. I think he''s fighting for his life right now."


    And they weren¡¯t wrong.


    As I tore into the bread like a man possessed, the guards just¡­ watched. I could feel their judgment, but I was far beyond caring.


    "Sweet gods above, he''s eating like a wild animal," one muttered.


    "Should we be concerned?" the other asked.


    I paused mid-bite, cheeks stuffed, and glared at them. "Mmf hrrm hmf."


    They blinked.


    "...What?"


    I swallowed¡ªpainfully, because I had inhaled the food too fast¡ªthen tried again. "Three. Days. No food. No water. And you¡¯re judging me for being hungry?*"


    The first guard raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, chill. Just¡­ maybe slow down before you choke and we have to explain how some random traveler died at our gates."


    I wasn¡¯t slowing down for anything. My body had rights, and I was currently making up for violating all of them.


    Once I drained the last of the water, I let out an exhausted sigh and slumped against the wooden gate.


    The second guard crossed his arms. "So, are you gonna tell us who you are now?"


    I wiped my mouth with my sleeve, suddenly remembering I had to actually act normal now. "Oh, uh¡­ yeah. I¡¯m Eli. Just a traveler."


    The first guard narrowed his eyes. "You don¡¯t look like just a traveler."


    I glanced down at myself. Okay, yeah. I was still covered in dirt, sweat, and what I hoped was just mud from when I tripped into a ditch earlier. Add in my sword, and I probably looked more like a bandit than a starving idiot.


    "...I promise I¡¯m not suspicious."


    The second guard deadpanned. "You say that while looking exactly like someone suspicious."


    I sighed. "Look, I just need to get inside. I have business here."


    The first guard tapped his chin. "Well, you did look half-dead a few minutes ago. If you were some assassin or something, you wouldn¡¯t have been dumb enough to nearly die of starvation before reaching your target."


    "Exactly!" I gestured wildly. "See? I¡¯m too pathetic to be a threat."


    The second guard shook his head. "That¡¯s¡­ not the defense you think it is."


    "But it¡¯s working, isn¡¯t it?"


    They exchanged glances. Then, with a sigh, they stepped aside.


    "Fine. Just¡­ try not to cause any trouble, alright?"


    I gave them a thumbs-up. "No promises."


    They groaned as I finally stepped past the gate, entering Aurewyn at last.


    Now¡­ the first thing a real protagonist would do in this situation¡ª


    "Alright," I muttered to myself, stretching my aching limbs. "Time to find the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. There should be one here, right?"


    Every kingdom worth its salt had one. A bustling city like Aurewyn? Definitely had one.


    I started walking down the cobbled streets, taking in the sights. Aurewyn was lively, with merchants shouting over each other to sell their wares, kids weaving between carts, and armored knights patrolling the area. The smell of fresh bread and roasted meat filled the air, reminding me that one chunk of bread was not enough to undo three days of suffering.


    But food could wait. I needed information, and the Adventurer¡¯s Guild was the best place to start.


    I stopped the nearest person¡ªa tired-looking old man carrying a sack of potatoes. "Hey, uh, excuse me. Do you know where the Adventurer¡¯s Guild is?"


    He gave me a weird look before jabbing a finger down the main road. "Keep walking straight, then take a left at the big fountain. Can¡¯t miss it."


    "Thanks, old-timer!" I said, already moving.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "I¡¯m thirty-five, you brat!" he called after me.


    Oops.


    A few minutes later, I found myself in front of a large, well-built structure with a massive wooden sign reading AUREWYN ADVENTURER''S GUILD in bold letters. Just outside the entrance, I could already hear the lively sounds of drunkards, rowdy warriors, and¡ªwas that someone crying?


    Classic guild atmosphere.


    With a deep breath, I pushed open the doors and stepped inside, ready to begin the next part of my journey.


    As I stepped inside, the lively atmosphere came to a sudden halt. Conversations quieted, drinks were set down, and every pair of eyes turned to me.


    Maybe it was because of my mask?


    I didn¡¯t really care. Instead of acknowledging the stares, I made my way straight to the nearest receptionist¡ªa beautiful one, at that.


    She greeted me with a polite smile. "Welcome, traveler. Here to become an adventurer, right?"


    I glanced at her name tag¡ªYuna.


    "Uh¡­ yeah," I replied, trying not to sound awkward.


    "Great!" She slid a piece of parchment across the counter along with a quill. "Just sign here, and then you''ll be tested."


    I picked up the quill, hesitating. "Tested how, exactly?"


    Yuna smirked. "Oh, you''ll see."


    ¡­That didn¡¯t sound ominous at all.


    ...


    A training hall¡­ great.


    Yuna had disappeared after making me sign the form, and when she returned¡ªwell, she wasn¡¯t alone.


    Standing next to her was an absolute monster of a man. No, scratch that¡ªthis guy might actually be bigger than Mark. Somehow.


    Massive arms. Thick, battle-worn armor. A greatsword nearly as tall as me strapped to his back. Just looking at him made my body ache in advance.


    The giant crossed his arms and grinned. "Welcome, traveler. Name''s Garrus. I''ll be testing your fighting capabilities and assigning you a rank."


    I exhaled slowly. "Right. And if I fail?"


    "You''ll automatically be placed in the lowest rank¡ªE-Rank."


    Figures.


    I glanced at Yuna, who was watching with mild amusement, then back at Garrus. "And if I do really well?"


    Garrus chuckled, cracking his knuckles. "Then you''ll get a rank that actually means something."


    Great. No pressure.


    ...


    Garrus moved faster than I expected.


    A blur of steel and muscle, closing the gap between us in an instant. My instincts screamed at me to dodge, but my body¡ªstiff from a month of inaction¡ªwas a second too slow.


    BOOM!


    The impact alone sent me flying. I barely managed to block with Nyxrend, but the sheer force behind his swing rattled my bones. I hit the ground hard, rolling several times before slamming into the training hall wall.


    The room spun. My arms felt numb.


    Holy shit.


    I pushed myself up, coughing. My fingers tightened around my sword as I tried to steady my breathing.


    Garrus cracked his neck. "Huh. Thought you''d go down in one hit."


    So did I.


    He charged again. I forced my body to move¡ªdodge, counter, do something! But my sluggish reaction time failed me again.


    CRASH!


    This time, his boot caught my stomach, sending me skidding across the dirt. I barely managed to roll to my feet, gasping for air. My vision blurred for a second before sharpening again.


    I was getting destroyed.


    Every move I made was too slow, too predictable, too weak. It wasn¡¯t just that I hadn¡¯t fought in a while¡ªGarrus was just that strong.


    Stronger than me.


    But then something shifted.


    I could feel it. A strange, instinctual pull.


    Skill Eater.


    It was subtle at first¡ªa whisper in the back of my mind. My muscles, my body, adjusting. I had just taken two direct hits, but suddenly, I understood something about them. My stance, my footing¡ªI had unconsciously copied the way Garrus planted himself before his attacks.


    I exhaled sharply. So that¡¯s how it works.


    I didn''t just learn. I adapted. Absorbing experience mid-fight.


    I raised Nyxrend, my grip firm. My muscles still ached, but my movements felt¡­ smoother.


    Garrus smirked. "Huh. You¡¯re standing a little different now."


    I rolled my shoulders. Let¡¯s test this.


    This time, when he charged, I saw it. The weight behind his step, the shift in his balance¡ªI could read it.


    I dodged, barely, his greatsword carving into the dirt where I stood a second ago. My counterattack was instinctual¡ªtoo instinctual. I swung Nyxrend at an angle I hadn''t even practiced before.


    Garrus blocked, but his eyes briefly widened in surprise. "Hoh?"


    That was all I needed to confirm it¡ªSkill Eater was broken.


    But it still wasn''t enough.


    Because the next thing I knew¡ª


    BOOM!


    ¡ªhis backhand caught my face and sent me spiraling.


    I crashed onto the ground again, pain flaring through my skull. My vision blurred for a second before snapping back into focus.


    Garrus stood over me, resting his sword on his shoulder. "Impressive. You¡¯re learning as we fight."


    I coughed, wiping blood from my mouth. "Not fast enough."


    He nodded. "Exactly."


    He raised his blade again, eyes serious now.


    "There will always be stronger opponents. You better learn faster."


    I clenched my jaw. He was right.


    If I wanted to survive¡ªif I wanted to win¡ªthen I couldn¡¯t just rely on Skill Eater.


    I needed to be stronger.


    "D-Rank," Garrus said flatly, lowering his sword.


    I blinked. "What? I''m not done yet."


    He smirked. "Well, it''s over."


    I stared at him, processing his words. "Over?" I still had fight left in me¡ªI could keep going, keep improving, keep adapting. My body ached, my movements were sluggish, but I wasn''t finished.


    Garrus sighed, shaking his head. "Listen, kid. You''re learning fast, yeah. But right now, you''d still lose against anyone above mid-tier." He jabbed a thumb toward me. "Your endurance is crap. Your reaction speed? Barely passable. And your technique? It ain''t yours¡ªyou''re just mimicking."


    I clenched my fists. He wasn¡¯t wrong.


    "You¡¯ve got potential," he admitted. "But potential alone doesn¡¯t mean shit in a real fight." He turned away, heading toward the exit. "Come back when you can actually win, not just adapt."


    I ground my teeth as Yuna strolled up, handing me a small wooden tag. "Congrats, you''re officially a D-Rank adventurer," she said cheerfully.


    I took it, staring at the cheap-looking engraving. D-Rank. Barely above the lowest rank.


    Pathetic.


    I exhaled sharply. Fine.


    I pocketed the tag and turned on my heel.


    If I wasn''t strong enough yet¡ª


    Then I''d just have to fix that.


    Did I really become that weak just because of one month without fighting?


    I clenched the wooden D-Rank tag in my fist, frustration boiling inside me.


    I wasn¡¯t some rookie who had just picked up a sword yesterday. I killed three Tikbalangs¡ªhigh-ranking demons that most adventurers wouldn''t dare challenge. I fought them, survived, and won.


    And now I was struggling against a guild instructor?


    The bitter taste of reality settled in.


    No. It wasn¡¯t just a month of inactivity. That was an excuse. The truth was, I relied too much on Skill Eater¡ªlet it carry me instead of actually refining my techniques. It gave me the ability to adapt, but that didn¡¯t mean I could just slack off and expect to win.


    Garrus was right. I wasn¡¯t fighting¡ªI was mimicking. And mimicking alone wouldn¡¯t cut it against stronger opponents.


    I exhaled sharply, slipping the tag into my pocket.


    Fine.


    If I had to start over, so be it. If I had to grind my way back to the top, then I''d do it.


    Because D-Rank sure as hell wasn¡¯t where I was staying.


    ...


    I made my way over to the quest board, hoping for something decent.


    ¡­Yeah, no. Nothing fancy. Just the usual beginner-level garbage.


    Escort missions, herb gathering, and¡ªoh, look¡ªsubjugating a goblin nest.


    I sighed. Well, it¡¯s not like I have better options.


    Taking on goblins wouldn¡¯t be exciting, but it was exactly what I needed¡ªa way to refine my skills in real combat. With Skill Eater, every fight would accelerate my growth. Even if goblins weren¡¯t the strongest opponents, they were unpredictable in groups.


    Perfect for testing how fast I can improve.


    I grabbed the request and walked back to the receptionist desk.


    "Taking the goblin subjugation?" Yuna asked, raising an eyebrow as I handed her the paper.


    "Yeah. Should be easy enough."


    She stamped the request and slid it back to me. "Just don¡¯t get cocky. Goblins may be weak alone, but they¡¯re dangerous when they swarm. Plenty of overconfident adventurers got torn apart underestimating them."


    I smirked. "Good thing I¡¯m not that dumb."


    She gave me a doubtful look but let it slide.


    With the quest in hand, I turned and walked out of the guild. Time to see just how much Skill Eater could push me.


    ...


    The goblin nest¡­ was just a hole in a mountain.


    I stood at the entrance, squinting at the dark tunnel. This is it? I expected something more¡ªmaybe a few goblins standing guard, some crude wooden barricades, something.


    But there was nothing. No signs of movement, no scouts patrolling the entrance. Just eerie silence.


    I frowned, glancing around. That¡¯s when I noticed it.


    There were multiple holes in this mountain.


    Not just one nest. Several.


    I rubbed my chin. "Is this¡­ more than one goblin nest?"


    That was concerning. If separate goblin groups were living this close together, then either they were working together¡ªwhich was bad¡ªor something stronger had forced them to settle here.


    And then another thought hit me.


    Wait a second.


    I had read a ton of fantasy novels, manhwa, and manga back in my old world. In none of them did goblins actually live inside caves.


    They built dens, burrowed into the earth, or even took over abandoned villages. But deep mountain caves? That was more of an orc thing.


    Something wasn¡¯t adding up.


    I tightened my grip on Nyxrend. Maybe this was just a normal goblin nest, and I was overthinking it.


    ¡­Or maybe I just walked into something way worse.


    And I was overthinking it.


    Because the moment a goblin spotted me, it screeched¡ªand suddenly, a swarm of them poured out of the holes like angry rats.


    For a second, I tensed, expecting some kind of strategy, an ambush, maybe even a leader barking orders. But then I actually watched them charge at me.


    They were slow.


    Like, really slow.


    And dumb.


    One tripped over a rock and faceplanted. Another ran headfirst into the cave wall. One even tried throwing a rusted dagger at me¡ªonly for it to go completely off-course and stab another goblin in the back.


    I sighed, shaking my head. This is just sad.


    Still, this was the perfect chance.


    I tightened my grip on Nyxrend, exhaled, and stepped forward.


    "Alright," I muttered, lowering my stance. "Time to train."


    I dashed forward, slicing through the first goblin with a single clean strike. Immediately, I felt it¡ªthe faint pull of Skill Eater kicking in. My body adjusted, refining the motion, the weight behind my swing.


    The next goblin lunged at me with a crude club. This time, I parried with ease, my counterattack smoother, more precise.


    Every movement, every attack¡ªI could feel myself improving in real time.


    And these goblins? They were the perfect punching bags.


    ...


    "321 goblins¡­ multiplied by 2 since the ears are the only part I need¡­ that¡¯s 642 goblin ears."


    I stared at the pile of severed ears in front of me. A normal person might be disgusted, but at this point, I was just tired.


    With a sigh, I shoved them into a large leather bag. Holy shit, this is heavy.


    I slung it over my shoulder, nearly toppling over from the weight. If I had known goblin ears would be such a pain to carry, I would¡¯ve borrowed a damn cart.


    Grumbling under my breath, I started making my way back to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, dragging my oversized bag of goblin ears like some kind of deranged merchant.


    I was exhausted, covered in goblin blood, and reeked of battle.


    But at least I was about to get paid.


    ...


    As I stepped into the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, the lively chatter inside came to a sudden halt.


    Then, almost immediately, gossip filled the room.


    "Is he K''s new apprentice?"


    "They do look alike."


    "And they¡¯re doing the same thing."


    I frowned. K? Who the hell is K?


    Ignoring the murmurs, I dragged my very heavy bag of goblin ears across the floor, the dull scraping sound making a few people wince. With one final heave, I dropped it right in front of Yuna¡¯s desk.


    THUD!


    Yuna barely reacted. She simply glanced at the bag, then at me, completely unfazed.


    "You''re like him..." she muttered.


    I raised an eyebrow. "The K guy? Who is he?"


    She leaned forward slightly, smirking. "You really don¡¯t know?"


    I crossed my arms. "If I did, I wouldn¡¯t be asking."


    Yuna chuckled. "K¡¯s a bit of a legend around here. A solo adventurer who ranked up ridiculously fast. And just like you, his first quest was a goblin subjugation. When he came back¡­" She tapped the desk. "He dropped a bag full of goblin ears. Just like you did."


    I glanced at the bag, then back at her. "Huh."


    Before I could process that, a voice from the back of the guild yelled¡ª


    "Oi, rookie! You related to K or somethin''?!"


    I turned to see a burly adventurer eyeing me suspiciously.


    I sighed. Great. More problems.


    I didn''t reply and he didnt push it.


    Yuna spoke up again, casually leaning on the counter. "If you''re curious about him, he''s a B-Rank adventurer. Travels with a companion, both of them masked. K, specifically, wears an Oni mask."


    I frowned. "Isn''t that kind of private information?"


    Yuna waved a hand dismissively. "Normally, yeah. But K himself shouted in the middle of the guild that he''d become a Diwata-Rank one day. Not exactly subtle."


    ¡­Alright, fair.


    She brushed the topic aside and got to work, casually counting the severed goblin ears like this was just another Tuesday.


    A minute later, she pulled out a small pouch and slid it across the counter.


    12 gold coins.


    Not bad.


    Then, she placed something else on the table¡ªa C-Rank badge.


    I blinked. "Wait¡­ already?"


    "Congratulations on becoming C-Rank." Yuna smiled.


    I picked up the badge, staring at it. I ranked up? Just like that?


    ¡­Maybe wiping out an entire goblin nest wasn''t such a common thing after all.

 Chapter 12: I am Evil

    I turned to the quest board, running my fingers over the wooden surface.


    C-Rank quests, huh¡­


    Most of them were fairly standard¡ªescort missions, monster hunting, a few odd collection requests.


    Then, my eyes landed on something interesting.


    High-Orc Subjugation.


    A slow grin crept onto my face.


    This would be perfect.


    Garrus said I needed to learn faster. That I relied too much on just adapting instead of actually building my own strength. High-Orcs were physically monstrous, far stronger than normal orcs. Taking hits from them would be like getting smashed by a moving boulder.


    If I wanted to train my endurance, reaction speed, and actual combat ability, this was the way to do it.


    Getting swung at with full strength by a High-Orc¡­ yeah. That¡¯ll do.


    I grabbed the request and marched straight back to Yuna.


    She took one look at the paper and raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°¡­You just ranked up to C-Rank, and you''re already taking on High-Orcs?¡±


    I grinned. ¡°What, worried about me?¡±


    She sighed. ¡°Not really. Just wondering if I should already prepare your funeral.¡±


    I smirked. ¡°Wow, such confidence in me.¡±


    Yuna just shook her head, stamping the quest form. "Look, I don¡¯t care what you do, but don¡¯t come back in pieces, alright? High-Orcs aren¡¯t like goblins. They think, they strategize, and they hit like a runaway carriage.¡±


    "Good," I said, slipping the quest paper into my pocket. "That¡¯s exactly what I need."


    She sighed again. ¡°Yep. Definitely preparing your funeral.¡±


    Ignoring her lack of faith in my survival, I turned to leave.


    "Before you go," Yuna called out. I glanced back, and she tossed something at me¡ªa small glass vial filled with red liquid.


    I caught it. "A healing potion?"


    "Yeah. Free of charge. Consider it a don¡¯t-die-too-quickly gift."


    I chuckled. "Appreciate it."


    With that, I left the guild, heading straight for my next challenge.


    Time to see if getting hit by a High-Orc was as painful as it sounded.


    As I stepped out of the guild, the cool night air greeted me. The streets of Aurewyn were still alive¡ªmerchants packing up their stalls, adventurers drinking and laughing outside taverns, and city guards making their usual rounds.


    I tightened my grip on Nyxrend and glanced at the quest paper again.


    High-Orc Subjugation


    Location: Blackwood Forest


    Estimated Targets: 3-5


    Not bad. It wasn¡¯t a full-blown warband, just a few stragglers. But even a single High-Orc was dangerous¡ªstronger, tougher, and smarter than regular orcs.


    And I was planning to let them hit me on purpose.


    Yeah. This is either a genius training method or a fast-track to death.


    Still, if I wanted to grow stronger, I needed to push my limits. Skill Eater was powerful, but it was only as good as what I experienced firsthand. The more I fought, the more I¡¯d learn.


    I made my way to the city gates, flashing my adventurer¡¯s badge at the guards. One of them, an older man with a scar over his eye, gave me a once-over.


    "Heading out this late?" he asked.


    "Yeah. Got a quest to take care of."


    His gaze flicked to my sword, then back to me. "Be careful, kid. Lotta adventurers think they can handle High-Orcs and end up as meat paste."


    I grinned. "Good thing I learn fast, then."


    The guard just shook his head and waved me through.


    With that, I stepped beyond the city walls and into the wild.


    The forest was eerily quiet. No birds, no rustling leaves¡ªjust stillness. A bad sign.


    I crouched low, scanning the area. According to the request, the High-Orcs had been spotted near a ruined watchtower deep in the forest. I needed to track them down first.


    I moved carefully, stepping lightly to avoid making noise. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and old wood. Then¡ª


    Snap.


    I froze. That wasn¡¯t me.


    Slowly, I turned my head.


    A massive, hulking figure emerged from the darkness.


    Eight feet tall. Thick, scarred muscles. Pale green skin with war paint smeared across its chest. Two tusks jutted from its lower jaw, and its yellow eyes gleamed in the moonlight.


    A High-Orc.


    It carried a brutal-looking battle axe, resting it lazily on one shoulder.


    Its gaze locked onto me, and for a second, we just stared at each other.


    Then, it grunted.


    ¡°¡­Small human. You lost?¡±


    It spoke. That alone was proof of how different they were from their lesser kin.


    I tightened my grip on Nyxrend and smirked. "Nah. I came here for you."


    The High-Orc blinked. Then it threw its head back and laughed. A deep, rumbling sound that shook its whole body.


    "Brave. Or stupid." It rolled its shoulders, shifting into a stance. "Either way¡­ you will break."


    Good.


    That¡¯s exactly what I was here for.


    I lowered my stance, exhaling.


    "Then try not to kill me too fast."


    The High-Orc wasted no time.


    With a roar, it lunged, raising its massive battle axe and swinging it down like a guillotine.


    Fast.


    I barely had time to move. My body reacted on instinct¡ªI dove to the side, the axe cleaving into the ground where I had just stood. The impact sent a shockwave through the dirt, cracking the earth beneath it.


    Holy shit.


    If I had taken that hit, I wouldn¡¯t just be injured¡ªI¡¯d be dead.


    But that was exactly why I was here.


    I steadied my breath, gripping Nyxrend tighter. I need to get hit. Not enough to die, but enough for Skill Eater to analyze the force behind it. If I could learn how to handle its attacks, I could counter them.


    The High-Orc wrenched its axe free and turned to me with a toothy grin. "Fast. But not enough."


    It moved again, this time swinging from the side.


    I didn¡¯t dodge.


    Instead, I braced myself and raised Nyxrend horizontally, attempting to block¡ª


    CRASH!


    The sheer force launched me off my feet. My arms screamed in pain as I was sent flying, crashing through a tree before hitting the ground hard.


    Everything ached. My vision blurred. My sword was still in my hands, but my entire body was trembling from the impact.


    So this is what a full-strength High-Orc hit feels like¡­


    I groaned, pushing myself up. The High-Orc tilted its head, watching me curiously. "Still alive? Impressive."


    I exhaled sharply, rolling my shoulders. The pain was still there, but something was different.


    Skill Eater was kicking in.


    My body was adjusting. I could feel it¡ªthe way my stance naturally shifted to absorb the force better, the way my grip on Nyxrend tightened in anticipation.


    "Not bad," I muttered, stretching my arms. "But I can take more."


    The High-Orc¡¯s grin widened. "Good."


    It charged again.


    This time, I wasn¡¯t just blocking¡ªI was learning.


    ...


    Crash!


    The High-Orc collapsed onto its knees, its massive body trembling.


    "Please¡­ just leave me alone!" it roared, exhaustion clear in its voice.


    You may be wondering¡ªwhy is a massive, battle-hardened High-Orc begging for mercy?


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Simple.


    I had spent the entire night doing nothing but blocking its attacks.


    Not dodging. Not counterattacking. Just standing my ground and taking every single hit.


    At first, each strike sent me flying. My arms ached, my bones rattled, and my vision blurred from the sheer force of its attacks. But Skill Eater worked fast. Every time I blocked, I learned. Every impact made me sturdier, more stable. My stance adapted. My grip tightened. My footing adjusted.


    Until eventually¡ª


    The High-Orc¡¯s attacks stopped moving me.


    And the realization must have hit it like a brick, because now, after hours of swinging that massive axe at me¡ª


    It was tired.


    It sagged forward, panting. "What¡­ are you¡­?"


    I stretched my sore shoulders, cracking my neck. "Huh. That was actually useful."


    The High-Orc flinched, its eyes filled with something I never thought I''d see from one of these monsters.


    Fear.


    It let out a weak, shaky breath. "Monster¡­"


    I smirked. That''s my line.


    I swung Nyxrend straight at the High-Orc¡¯s throat¡ªonly for my blade to stop against its thick, reinforced skin.


    I blinked. Oh, come on.


    The High-Orc shuddered, still too exhausted to move. It weakly glanced down at the blade pressing against its neck, then back up at me, as if insulted that I couldn''t even finish the job properly.


    I sighed. Alright, new training idea.


    If blocking trained my endurance, then this would train my swing strength.


    I adjusted my stance and swung again.


    THUNK!


    Nothing. The High-Orc winced but didn¡¯t fall.


    I gritted my teeth. "Alright, once more¡ª"


    THUNK!


    Still nothing.


    "Seriously?"


    The High-Orc groaned. "P-please¡­"


    "Shhh, this is training," I muttered, raising my sword again.


    And so, for the next hour, I practiced my swing strength¡ªusing the poor High-Orc¡¯s body as my personal training dummy.


    After what felt like my hundredth swing, I finally sliced through, decapitating the orc in a clean strike.


    I exhaled, rolling my shoulders. "Whew. That took forever."


    Then I cracked my knuckles and grinned. "Alright. Time to fight two of them at once. Where are you!!"


    My voice echoed through the mountain.


    Somewhere in the distance, two very unfortunate High-Orcs probably felt a deep sense of regret.


    ...


    "Found you!"


    Both High-Orcs, casually sitting on the ground, turned their heads toward me in unison.


    "Human!" they bellowed at the same time.


    Then, without hesitation, they shot up and immediately started swinging their weapons at me.


    Perfect.


    I weaved between their strikes, grinning. "Great! Now I can practice my reflexes, dodging, and decision-making while also training my strength and endurance!"


    One of them roared and brought down a massive club. I sidestepped at the last second, feeling the wind pressure as it smashed into the ground, sending debris flying. The other swung a greatsword horizontally¡ªI barely ducked under it, my hair rustling from how close it was.


    I laughed. "Now hopefully you guys can last as long as High-Orc #1!"


    The orcs froze for a second, exchanging a glance.


    Then¡ª


    "What happened to him?" one of them grunted.


    I cracked my knuckles and rolled my shoulders. "Oh, he lasted a whole night. Then I used him as training for my sword swings. Didn¡¯t make it after that."


    Silence.


    Then, both High-Orcs took a step back.


    I smirked. "Oh no, don''t run. You guys are perfect training dummies."


    And just like that, the real fight began.


    ...


    "Please¡­ just let us go!" High-Orc #2 wailed, swinging his massive club in sheer desperation.


    It was so weak that I didn¡¯t even have to dodge or block. The club sluggishly passed by me, missing by a mile, before the orc stumbled forward, panting.


    I tilted my head. Was that really supposed to be an attack?


    As for High-Orc #3?


    Yeah, he was already unconscious on the ground.


    He lasted a while, but after a few hours of me dodging, countering, and using him as an endurance training dummy, he just¡­ collapsed.


    I sighed, cracking my neck. "Come on, man. At least try to give me a workout here."


    High-Orc #2 whimpered. "What are you?!"


    I grinned, raising Nyxrend for another round.


    "Your personal training equipment."


    I grinned, tightening my grip on Nyxrend.


    "Alright! Time for swinging strength training!!!"


    High-Orc #2''s eyes widened in pure horror. "N-no! Please¡ª"


    THUNK!


    I swung. The impact sent him staggering, but his thick hide still refused to give in completely.


    Good. That meant I could keep going.


    THUNK! THUNK!


    Each strike was smoother, faster, and stronger than the last. My muscles burned, but I could feel the improvement with every swing. The resistance of his tough skin forced me to adjust my technique, maximizing my power while keeping my movements efficient.


    The High-Orc whimpered. "G-gods, just kill me already¡­"


    I ignored him and kept swinging.


    This was too good of a training opportunity to waste.


    THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!


    Each strike echoed through the forest, the force of my swings making the ground tremble.


    High-Orc #2 barely stood anymore, his knees shaking, his body covered in bruises from my relentless sword-strength training.


    His eyes were glassy¡ªcompletely dead inside.


    "P¡­please¡­" he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. "J-just¡­ end it¡­"


    I ignored him and adjusted my grip. "Nope! Not yet! I think I can still improve my swing!"


    His lip quivered. "Why¡­ is this happening¡­"


    THUNK!


    I felt it. That last swing was way cleaner. More efficient. I was finally getting it down.


    I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of Nyxrend settle perfectly in my hands.


    "Alright," I muttered, rolling my shoulders. "One last test."


    The High-Orc barely reacted as I raised my sword for the final strike.


    SHING!


    A clean, perfect decapitation.


    His body slumped to the ground. Silent.


    I exhaled, shaking out my arms. Whew. That was a good workout.


    I turned to High-Orc #3, who was still unconscious on the ground.


    I nodded to myself. "Alright. Time for durability training."


    I grabbed a stick and started poking him awake.


    Well¡­ he was dead.


    From what, you ask?


    Exhaustion.


    Yep. High-Orc #3 literally died from being too tired before I could even finish my training with him.


    I sighed, shaking my head. "Man, you guys need better stamina."


    With that, I decapitated him with a clean slice, tossing his head onto the growing collection. Now with three High-Orc heads in my possession, I tied them together with some rope and slung them over my shoulder like a grotesque sack of potatoes.


    As I started making my way back to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, I smirked to myself.


    I wonder how many eyes will be on me today.


    As I marched through the city gates, three severed High-Orc heads dangling over my shoulder, the reaction was immediate.


    The streets went silent.


    Merchants paused mid-sale. A mother yanked her child behind her. A guard actually choked on his drink.


    People started whispering.


    "What the hell¡­?"


    "Is that¡­ is that what I think it is?"


    "Who even brings High-Orc heads like that?!"


    I ignored them, casually adjusting the weight of the heads. Man, these guys were heavy.


    Finally, I reached the Adventurer¡¯s Guild.


    Like before, the moment I stepped in¡ªsilence. Conversations died, drinks were set down, and every adventurer turned to stare at me.


    I made my way to Yuna¡¯s desk, dragging the High-Orc heads behind me.


    THUD. I dropped them in front of her.


    She looked down at them. Looked back up at me. Then sighed.


    "¡­You really don¡¯t do things normally, huh?"


    I grinned. "Well, I did say I needed training."


    She massaged her temples. "Alright, let¡¯s see¡­ Three High-Orcs down. That¡¯ll be forty-five gold¡ªand, oh look," she grabbed a B-Rank badge from behind the counter and placed it in front of me, "Congratulations. You¡¯re officially B-Rank."


    The entire guild exploded.


    "WHAT?!"


    "He ranked up that fast?!"


    "Wasn¡¯t he a newbie just yesterday?!"


    I smirked, picking up my new badge.


    Well¡­ that was easy.


    ...


    With my B-Rank badge secured and my gold pouch heavier than ever, I made my way to the Merchant Square.


    Or should I say¡­ The Scamming Center.


    Because, seriously¡ªevery time I walked past a merchant, I somehow ended up buying something.


    How? I don¡¯t fucking know.


    It had to be some kind of brainwashing magic. Or maybe they were just too good at pulling people in.


    "Sir, you look like you need a new cloak!" Bought it.


    "This elixir will boost your stamina!" Bought it.


    "A fine warrior like you deserves the finest jerky!" ¡­Okay, that one was fair.


    By the time I broke free from the merchants¡¯ clutches, my gold had taken a serious hit.


    But I finally made it to where I actually wanted to go¡ª


    A blacksmith.


    You may ask, Why?


    Simple.


    Nyxrend is a cursed weapon.


    Meaning it reeks of curse energy. And while I love my sword, I don¡¯t want to be immediately identified as someone carrying an ominous, soul-eating blade every time I walk into a civilized place.


    So, I did the most logical thing.


    I bought another sword.


    Yes. Another one.


    A normal, non-cursed, average-looking longsword. Just something to not scream "mysterious possibly evil swordsman" everywhere I went.


    Nyxrend hummed slightly in my mind, almost like it was offended.


    I patted the hilt reassuringly. "Relax, buddy. You¡¯re still my main weapon. This is just¡­ a disguise."


    The blacksmith raised an eyebrow at me, probably wondering why I was talking to a sword.


    I ignored him.


    With my new normal sword strapped to my side, I left the blacksmith, ready for whatever came next.


    ...


    I stopped in the middle of the street, staring at my overflowing bag of random crap.


    "What the fuck¡­ How did I end up buying a cloak, three healing potions, three explosives, and five energy potions¡­ when I was just supposed to buy a sword?"


    I looked at my new normal sword. Then at the mountain of unnecessary items weighing me down.


    The merchant bastards got me again.


    Before I could process my financial ruin¡ª


    GROWL.


    I froze.


    That¡­ was my stomach.


    A realization hit me.


    In the three days I had been in Aurewyn, I hadn''t eaten once. Probably because I was too busy fighting for my life and using orcs as personal punching bags.


    I hurriedly checked my pouch, counting the remaining gold.


    ¡­Four.


    FOUR.


    I started sweating.


    "Great. Four gold coins."


    Just enough to eat like a king for a day¡­ or survive for the next week.


    I stared at the bag of potions and explosives.


    I stared at my grumbling stomach.


    ¡­


    I had fucked up.


    With a heavy sigh, I dragged myself to the nearest restaurant¡ªor, well, I guess it¡¯s called a tavern in this world.


    The sign above the door read "The Rusty Tankard." Not exactly inspiring confidence, but at this point, I didn¡¯t care. My stomach was demanding tribute.


    I pushed open the doors, stepping inside.


    The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat, ale, and whatever mysterious stew was brewing in the back. The place was lively¡ªadventurers laughing, drinking, and slamming mugs together, while barmaids weaved between tables, carrying plates of food that made my stomach growl even louder.


    I made my way to an empty seat at the counter, slumping onto it dramatically.


    The bartender, a burly man with a scar over his nose, gave me a once-over. "You look half-dead."


    "Feels like it," I admitted. "Give me whatever four gold can buy."


    He raised an eyebrow. "Four gold? Kid, that¡¯s a full feast."


    I blinked. "Wait, really?"


    He nodded. "You could eat enough to pass out."


    I nearly teared up. Finally, something in this world wasn¡¯t scamming me.


    "Then load me up," I said, slamming the coins on the counter. "I''m eating until I can''t move."


    The bartender chuckled, scooping up my gold. "Alright, kid. You asked for it."


    He turned to the kitchen, barking orders. Within minutes, the counter in front of me was covered in food¡ªthick slabs of roasted meat, buttered bread, steaming stew, grilled fish, mashed potatoes, and even a mug of something cold and sweet.


    I stared at the feast, my stomach practically screaming in joy.


    Three days. Three whole days of training, fighting, and getting scammed¡­ but now?


    I grabbed a chunk of roasted meat and devoured it.


    The moment it hit my tongue, I almost cried.


    This was it. This was heaven.


    I tore through the food, eating like a starved beast. The tavern around me blurred¡ªnothing else mattered. Not the noisy adventurers, not the curious glances from nearby tables.


    Just me, my food, and my revenge against hunger.


    At some point, I realized the bartender was watching with mild concern.


    "...Kid," he said slowly, "you sure you ain''t part ogre or somethin¡¯?"


    I paused mid-bite, mouth full. "Mmfh?"


    "You¡¯re eating like you just crawled out of a warzone."


    I swallowed and wiped my mouth. "Close enough."


    He shook his head, muttering, "Damn adventurers." But he didn¡¯t stop me.


    I grinned and kept eating.


    Tonight, I feasted.


    ...


    "Ahh, fuck¡­ I''m full."


    I leaned back in my seat, groaning as my stomach¡ªnow almost a full arc¡ªbounced slightly whenever I moved.


    I felt heavy. Not just tired-heavy, but "I might need someone to roll me out of here" heavy.


    The bartender smirked. "Told you it was a lot of food."


    I lazily glanced at my coin pouch, blinking in surprise.


    The whole meal only cost two gold.


    "Wait¡­ so I still have money?!"


    For the first time since arriving in Aurewyn, I felt like I actually won something.


    I sat there, patting my glorious food baby, basking in the rare feeling of not being scammed.


    Life was good.


    With that I paid and left..


    "Next an Inn"


    ...


    I wandered through the dimly lit streets of Aurewyn, my stomach weighing me down like a full set of armor.


    Damn, I really overdid it.


    The city was quieter now, most of the shops closing, and only a few taverns and inns still bustling with activity. I kept moving, scanning the signs until I finally spotted one that seemed decent.


    "The Silver Hearth Inn."


    Looked cozy enough. More importantly, it wasn¡¯t in some shady back alley where I''d wake up missing a kidney.


    I pushed the door open and stepped inside.


    The warm glow of lanterns filled the space. A few travelers sat at round tables, chatting softly over drinks. The woman at the front desk¡ªa middle-aged lady with graying hair¡ªlooked up and smiled.


    "Welcome to The Silver Hearth. Looking for a room?"


    I nodded, fishing out my remaining two gold coins. "Yeah. What¡¯s the rate?"


    "One gold per night, breakfast included."


    I sighed in relief. Perfect.


    "Then I¡¯ll take a room," I said, sliding over one coin.


    She took it and handed me a simple iron key. "Room¡¯s upstairs, third door on the right."


    I thanked her and dragged myself up the steps. Each step felt heavier, my full stomach reminding me of my earlier poor life choices.


    Finally, I reached my room, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.


    It was small, but clean¡ªa bed, a wooden table, a wash basin, and a single window overlooking the city.


    I barely made it to the bed before collapsing face-first into it.


    Soft. Warm. Not the ground.


    I let out a deep, satisfied sigh.


    For the first time in days, I could finally¡ª


    ¡­


    Zzz.


    Yeah, I was out cold.

 Chapter 13: Korthyn Mire

    The sound of wagons, horses, and people talking outside woke me up.


    I groggily opened my eyes, stretching my arms. Why do I feel so¡­ heavy?


    I blinked. No, seriously. I feel heavy.


    Something was wrong.


    Slowly, I looked down at myself.


    ¡­


    I was fat.


    WHAT?!?!


    I scrambled out of bed¡ªwell, I tried to. The moment I moved, my stomach jiggled. My arms felt thicker. My face felt rounder.


    I rushed to the small mirror by the wash basin.


    What greeted me was a pudgy version of myself.


    I grabbed my now-chubbier cheeks.


    "WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO ME?!"


    Then it hit me.


    Skill Eater.


    It didn¡¯t just improve my combat abilities¡­ it also adapted to whatever I experienced.


    I spent an entire night eating like a starving beast¡ªso my body optimized for storing energy.


    In short, Skill Eater made me absorb the concept of getting fat.


    I cursed my own broken ability.


    Let¡¯s just say¡­


    I skipped breakfast that morning.


    And then I RAN.


    I didn¡¯t jog. I didn¡¯t speed-walk. I fucking sprinted.


    The moment I realized Skill Eater had optimized me for weight gain, I bolted out of the inn like a madman.


    Through the streets of Aurewyn, past confused merchants and startled pedestrians¡ª


    "Why is he running?"


    "Did he steal something?!"


    "Wait, isn¡¯t that the guy who brought in all those High-Orc heads?"


    I ignored them all.


    I ran until my lungs burned. I ran until my legs screamed. I ran as if my very existence depended on it.


    Because in a way? It did.


    I refused to be the first isekai protagonist taken down by his own metabolism.


    It took me half the damn day to burn everything off.


    Half a day of nonstop running, push-ups, squats, and whatever else I could think of to undo the damage.


    By the time I finally stopped, my body had returned to normal.


    I placed my hands on my knees, panting. "Never. Again."


    Then¡ª


    GROWL.


    I slowly looked down at my stomach.


    I was hungry again.


    Was this going to be a full cycle? Was I doomed to repeat this nightmare forever?!


    I dragged myself to a small food stall, glaring at the food like it had personally betrayed me.


    This time, I ate just enough to be satisfied. No feasts, no overindulging¡ªjust normal eating.


    Skill Eater better not mess with me again¡­


    ...


    Back at the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, I took another Goblin Nest Subjugation quest.


    Easy work.


    Walked in. Killed everything. Walked out.


    Three gold coins. Simple.


    But now, I had a choice.


    Do I immediately head for Korthyn Mire, where my real mission awaits?


    ¡­Or do I reassess my strength with Garrus?


    I tapped my fingers against the counter, thinking.


    Yeah. Let¡¯s go with the second option.


    After all, last time I fought Garrus, I got wrecked.


    This time? Things might be different.


    ...


    The familiar sight of Garrus stood before me, arms crossed, his ever-present smirk in place.


    "Are you ready?" he asked.


    I took a moment to double-check everything.


    Mask? Check.


    Overly edgy cloak that makes me look way cooler than I probably am? Check.


    Nameless, non-cursed sword that I have to use around people so they don¡¯t immediately assume I¡¯m a villain? Check.


    I exhaled, rolling my shoulders.


    "Let¡¯s do this."


    Garrus grinned, rolling his neck as he stretched his massive arms. ¡°Good. Let¡¯s see how much you¡¯ve improved.¡±


    He cracked his knuckles¡ªa sound that sent a very real warning through my instincts. The last time I fought him, I got ragdolled. But this time?


    I wasn¡¯t the same.


    I tightened my grip on my nameless sword, steadying my stance. Unlike before, when I felt stiff and inexperienced, my body naturally adjusted¡ªSkill Eater had drilled better movements into me through all my fights.


    Garrus lowered his stance. No wasted movement. No hesitation.


    Then¡ªhe vanished.


    FAST.


    I barely caught his movement before he appeared right in front of me, his fist already swinging toward my ribs.


    Last time? That hit sent me flying.


    This time?


    I blocked.


    Our collision sent out a shockwave, my boots grinding against the training hall floor. My arms strained from the impact, but I didn¡¯t budge.


    Garrus raised an eyebrow. ¡°Oh?¡±


    I grinned. ¡°Told you¡ªI learn fast.¡±


    He laughed. ¡°Good! Then try and keep up!¡±


    Holy shit¡­


    I barely managed to stay on my feet, my arms aching from blocking Garrus'' relentless blows.


    "Are you really B-Rank?" I asked, panting.


    Garrus just grinned, rolling his shoulders like he hadn''t even broken a sweat.


    "Hah, I choose to be B-Rank!"


    I twisted my head in confusion. "He chooses to?"


    Murmurs spread through the guild members watching.


    "What does that even mean?"


    "Is he saying he could be higher?!"


    "Wait¡­ is he actually holding back?!"


    Garrus smirked, stepping forward. "Ranks are just labels. Strength is what you make of it."


    Before I could respond¡ª


    BOOM!


    He disappeared¡ªand then reappeared right in front of me.


    I barely had time to react before his fist came crashing down.


    Garrus'' fist stopped just inches from my face. The sheer force of the air pressure behind it rattled my bones.


    I tensed, readying myself for the next attack, but¡ª


    He grinned and pulled back.


    "And I love this job, where I get to see the future generations grow," he said, crossing his arms. "So there''s no need for a higher rank!"


    The crowd around us stared.


    "Wait¡­ so he stays B-Rank on purpose?"


    "That¡¯s insane."


    "But kinda badass."


    I blinked. "So you''re telling me... you''re strong enough to be A-Rank, maybe even S-Rank, but you just don''t rank up?"


    Garrus chuckled. "Exactly."


    I stared at him for a moment. Then sighed.


    "You¡¯re just as weird as the rest of us."


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    He laughed loudly. "Damn right! Now¡ª" He clapped his hands together. "You done resting? Or do I need to knock you into another training session?"


    I exhaled, rolling my shoulders.


    "Alright, round two then."


    Garrus grinned, slamming his fist into his palm. "That¡¯s what I like to hear!"


    I tightened my grip on my nameless sword, resetting my stance. Last time, he overwhelmed me with raw power. But now, I wasn¡¯t just going to block¡ªI was going to counter.


    He moved first.


    A straight punch¡ªfast, controlled, and aimed at my chest.


    This time, I saw it.


    I twisted my body at the last second, letting the punch graze past me, and swung my sword¡ªa perfectly timed counterattack.


    CLANG!


    He blocked it. With his bare hand.


    I felt the impact rattle my arms, but Garrus just grinned.


    "Good reflexes," he said, pushing my blade away effortlessly. "But not enough!"


    He slammed his knee into my stomach.


    Pain exploded through my core as I was sent flying back, crashing into the wooden floor. Dust kicked up around me.


    I groaned, coughing. "That¡­ hurt."


    Garrus cracked his knuckles. "Then get up and hit back harder."


    I forced myself to my feet, gripping my sword tighter. Skill Eater was kicking in.


    I had just taken a full hit. My body was already adjusting. I could feel my stance shifting, my footwork getting sharper.


    I smirked. "Alright then."


    I moved first.


    Pushing off the ground, I dashed toward Garrus with newfound speed. My body was adjusting. The way he fought, the way he moved¡ªSkill Eater had already begun refining my reactions.


    I swung my sword in a clean arc, aiming for his side.


    CLANG!


    Once again, he caught the blade with his bare hand.


    But this time¡ªI was ready.


    I let go of the sword with one hand, pivoted my stance, and drove my fist straight into his ribs.


    BOOM!


    The impact shook through my arm, and for the first time¡ªGarrus actually slid back.


    The room went silent.


    The crowd watching from the sidelines all collectively froze.


    Even Garrus blinked in surprise before grinning wide. "Now that had some weight to it!"


    I flexed my hand. It still stung from punching a guy built like a fortress, but I could feel it¡ªI was finally able to push him back.


    "Not bad, huh?" I smirked.


    Garrus cracked his neck. "Yeah. But now I¡¯m done holding back."


    I barely had time to process those words before he vanished.


    A split second later¡ª


    BANG!


    His fist slammed into my stomach.


    My entire world exploded.


    The force sent me rocketing across the room, smashing through wooden training dummies and tumbling across the ground. I barely managed to roll onto my feet before stopping myself.


    Holy shit.


    I coughed, feeling my ribs scream in protest. That hit was on a completely different level than before.


    I wiped my mouth, exhaling sharply. "Alright¡­ yeah, I deserved that one."


    Garrus rolled his shoulders. "Still standing?"


    I cracked my neck. "Barely. But I learn fast."


    He grinned. "Then keep learning, kid. ''Cause I¡¯m not done yet."


    Neither was I.


    I took my stance again.


    The fight was far from over.


    Garrus vanished again.


    I saw it.


    Not just his movement¡ªbut the angle, the timing, the intent.


    This time, I didn¡¯t just block.


    I moved.


    His fist came for my ribs again¡ªI twisted my body, letting it graze past me. His other hand followed with a hook¡ªI ducked.


    Dodge. Read. Adapt.


    I stepped in¡ªmy turn.


    My sword flashed¡ªa quick thrust to his side.


    CLANG!


    He caught it. Again.


    I expected that.


    I yanked my blade back, twisted, and¡ªkicked him in the knee.


    His stance faltered.


    NOW!


    I reversed my grip and slashed upward¡ªhis forearm blocked it, but I was already moving again.


    Elbow to his gut.


    Impact.


    Didn¡¯t hurt him much. But it staggered him.


    "Good!" Garrus laughed mid-fight. "But¡ª"


    His headbutt nearly took mine off.


    BANG!


    My vision blurred¡ªmy body flew backward, rolling across the ground.


    Fuck. That hurt.


    I forced myself up, wiping blood from my nose.


    But I was grinning.


    "Getting serious now?" I asked.


    Garrus cracked his knuckles. "You tell me. Still wanna go?"


    I exhaled, resetting my stance.


    "Always."


    And then we clashed again.


    Garrus watched me carefully, his smirk never fading.


    I adjusted my mask, feeling the familiar weight settle against my face. Unlike before, when I first fought him, this time, I wasn¡¯t just reacting¡ªI was reading him, predicting, and planning my next move.


    But Garrus wasn¡¯t just strong¡ªhe was smart.


    "You¡¯re fast," he admitted, cracking his knuckles. "But you still rely too much on instinct."


    I rolled my shoulders, gripping my nameless sword tighter. "Then I¡¯ll stop relying on instinct."


    I vanished.


    Not literally. But to the untrained eye, it probably looked like it.


    I dashed low, closing the gap between us instantly¡ªSkill Eater had already memorized the best way to move. My sword flashed¡ªa precise, controlled slash aimed for his ribs.


    Garrus reacted fast.


    He sidestepped, but I expected it.


    I pivoted, twisting my body mid-air, bringing my elbow crashing toward his jaw.


    He blocked with his forearm¡ªbut the impact forced him back.


    I landed smoothly, exhaling.


    He touched his arm where I hit him, then grinned. "Now you¡¯re fighting."


    He moved faster than before.


    I barely saw the punch before it slammed into my stomach.


    BOOM!


    I flew back, boots skidding against the wooden floor. My breath hitched¡ªthat one hurt.


    But I caught myself.


    I straightened, adjusting my mask.


    "Alright," I exhaled. "Round three."


    Garrus grinned.


    "Come at me, then."


    I steadied my breathing, keeping my stance firm as I asked, "Hey, let me ask you something¡ªif you fought a Tikbalang, would you win?"


    For the first time, Garrus¡¯ expression shifted. His usual cocky smirk faded, replaced by something more serious¡ªalmost like my question bothered him.


    He didn¡¯t answer immediately. Instead, he cracked his neck and exhaled.


    "They would¡­" he muttered. Then, his gaze locked onto mine, sharper than before. "If there were five of them."


    I tensed.


    That answer said everything.


    Even he had limits.


    But before I could think deeper, he moved.


    No more talking.


    Just fighting.


    He lunged with a straight punch¡ªI dodged, twisting my body, bringing my sword down in a counter-slash.


    He caught the blade.


    I expected that. I let go with one hand, shifting into a close-range elbow strike.


    He blocked with his forearm. I kicked his knee. He barely flinched.


    I kept moving, my blade flashing in rapid strikes¡ªeach one sharper, faster, stronger.


    But Garrus adapted just as quickly.


    He weaved through my attacks, throwing out counters, forcing me to react just as much as I attacked.


    A punch grazed my ribs¡ªI barely managed to turn it into a roll, avoiding the follow-up strike.


    We clashed, again and again, neither side gaining full control.


    His experience against my adaptability.


    Minutes passed, both of us landing hits but neither backing down.


    Finally¡ªwe both moved at the same time.


    My sword slashed toward his chest.


    His fist rocketed toward my face.


    BOOM!


    We both stopped inches away from each other.


    My blade hovered just above his heart.


    His fist hovered just in front of my mask.


    Silence.


    Then¡ªwe both grinned.


    "Guess that¡¯s a draw," I said, exhaling.


    Garrus chuckled, stepping back. "Not bad, kid. Not bad at all."


    The gathered adventurers¡ªwho had been watching in stunned silence¡ªfinally erupted into cheers and whispers.


    "That was insane!"


    "I thought he was gonna lose for sure!"


    "A draw with Garrus? Who the hell is this guy?!"


    I sheathed my sword, my arms aching, but I felt something different this time.


    I wasn¡¯t just surviving.


    I was catching up.


    Garrus stretched, rolling his shoulders. "You¡¯ve got potential, Eli. But potential alone isn¡¯t enough."


    I nodded. "I know. That¡¯s why I¡¯m still getting stronger."


    He smirked. "Good. Because the next time we fight?"


    His eyes gleamed with excitement.


    "I¡¯m not holding back."


    That training answered everything.


    First¡ªI¡¯m still weak.


    Second¡­ I don¡¯t know.


    There was something missing, something I couldn¡¯t quite put into words. I had fought stronger opponents, adapted, survived¡ªbut I wasn¡¯t winning. Not completely.


    I wasn¡¯t at that level yet.


    I exhaled, flexing my fingers, feeling the dull ache from my fight with Garrus. He wasn¡¯t even going all out, and I barely kept up.


    But despite that¡ªI felt excited.


    Because now, I really, really wanted to fight another one of those half-horse, half-human bastards.


    A Tikbalang.


    I clenched my fists, my grin hidden behind my mask.


    "Yeah¡­ I need to fight one again."


    ...


    With that, I chugged every last healing potion I had, feeling my body slowly recover from the brutal training session. The soreness faded, my wounds sealed up, and I was good as new.


    Now, onto my next objective¡ª


    Finding a driver to take me to Korthyn Mire.


    Simple, right?


    Wrong.


    I tried five times.


    And I got denied five times.


    The moment I mentioned Korthyn Mire, every single driver either laughed in my face, looked at me like I was crazy, or straight-up told me to fuck off.


    "Are you outta your damn mind, kid?!"


    "Hell no, I ain¡¯t driving near demon-infested lands!"


    "I like living, thanks."


    I even offered extra gold. Still no luck.


    I sighed, rubbing my temples.


    "Guess people really don¡¯t want anything to do with demons, huh?"


    "Now what? Walk there myself¡ª"


    Before I could finish my thought, I felt a tug on my cloak.


    I looked down.


    A kid.


    Bright-eyed, scruffy-haired, no older than ten, grinning up at me like this was completely normal.


    "Hello!" he said cheerfully. "My name¡¯s Finn, and I can take you there!"


    I blinked. What.


    "You?" I repeated, making sure I heard that right.


    He nodded enthusiastically. "Yep!"


    I stared at him. I stared hard.


    This had to be a scam. No way some actual child was casually offering to drive people into demon-infested territory.


    ¡°¡­You got a wagon?¡± I asked, skeptical.


    He puffed out his chest. "Yup! My dad¡¯s! I help him with deliveries all the time!"


    "And your dad''s¡­ okay with you going to Korthyn Mire?"


    Finn hesitated. "Uh. Well. He doesn¡¯t know."


    Oh. Great. I was about to commit to child endangerment.


    Finn tilted his head, eyeing me curiously.


    "Are you related to K?"


    I blinked. "No?"


    He shrugged. "Oh. Well, I took him there. And we came back alive."


    I froze.


    K? The masked, B-Rank adventurer that the guild wouldn¡¯t shut up about? The guy people compared me to?


    I squinted at the kid. "...You took him to Korthyn Mire?"


    Finn nodded like it was nothing. "Yep! He didn¡¯t talk much, but he paid well. Real scary mask, though. Yours is kinda cool too, but his was¡ª"


    I held up a hand. "Wait. Are you saying you actually drove through demon territory and made it back just fine?"


    Finn beamed. "Yup!"


    I stared at him, then at his small, tiny hands gripping my cloak.


    Either this kid was the luckiest driver in existence¡­


    ¡­Or K was way more terrifying than I thought.


    ...


    Well, turns out this kid was also a fucking scammer.


    On the way to Korthyn Mire, Finn somehow tricked me into paying for information I already knew.


    ¡°So, you see, the Great Divide is this huge wall that separates¡ª¡±


    "I KNOW WHAT THE GREAT DIVIDE IS."


    "Oh! Well, did you know about the Divine Blessing?"


    "YES."


    "How about adventurer rankings?"


    "I¡¯M LITERALLY A B-RANK ADVENTURER."


    "Wow! Then you must already know about demons too¡ªwait, that''ll be one more gold coin!"


    I glared at him as I handed over another coin.


    Finn grinned, completely unfazed, stuffing the gold into his pocket like a seasoned con artist.


    By the time we actually neared Korthyn Mire, I had lost a stupid amount of money.


    This kid was worse than the merchant square.


    Finn kept talking, now fully embracing his role as my unwanted personal guide.


    "Alright, listen up! First, there are the Two-Horns¡ªweaker than a One-Horned Demon but still stronger than a Lesser Demon."


    I sighed. "Yeah, I know¡ª"


    "Then there are the Hornless Demons¡ªif you ever meet one, you better run."


    I frowned. "Why?"


    Finn grinned. "Because Hornless Demons might be Archdemons or even a Demon Lord."


    I paused at that. Hornless could mean stronger? That was¡­ good to know.


    Finn continued, counting on his fingers. "Then, there are the three well-known demons!"


    He held up one finger.


    "First¡ªthe Tikbalang! Half-horse, half-human monsters that are insanely fast and impossible to predict."


    Been there, fought that.


    He held up a second finger.


    "Second¡ªthe Mananangal! They¡¯re demons that split in half¡ªthe top half flies around hunting people, usually in packs, and they¡¯ve got these crazy sharp claws¡ª"


    I groaned. "Flying pack hunters. Great."


    Finn nodded. "Yup! You¡¯re gonna have a bad time if they find you."


    Then, he held up his third finger.


    "And last¡ªthe Kapre! Giant, cigar-smoking demons that lurk in forests, watching people from the trees. Super strong, but they don¡¯t move much unless you piss them off."


    I exhaled, rubbing my temples. "So, to summarize: Tikbalangs will outrun me, Mananangals will swarm me, and Kapres will crush me."


    Finn grinned. "Pretty much!"


    I leaned back in the wagon, already regretting this trip.


    The wagon jerked to a stop.


    Finn turned to me, still grinning, but his tone was serious. "Alright, we''re here. I''ll wait for you for 24 hours¡ªif you don¡¯t come back by then, well¡­ you¡¯re on your own."


    I glanced at him. "Wow, so generous."


    He shrugged. "Hey, it¡¯s not my fault if you get eaten."


    Fair enough.


    I hopped off the wagon, my boots landing on dead earth. The air was heavy, stale, and unnervingly quiet.


    I took a step forward, scanning the area.


    An abandoned village.


    The path ahead was wide, empty, and really fucking scary.


    Crumbling houses lined the streets, their wooden frames blackened by time. Some had collapsed entirely, leaving behind skeletal remains of what once was.


    No movement. No sound. Not even the wind.


    My instincts screamed at me.


    Something was wrong.


    I tightened my grip on my sword, exhaling.


    No turning back now.


    I stepped forward, disappearing into the village.


    As I walked deeper into the abandoned village, my eyes scanning every ruined house, I suddenly heard it¡ª


    A low, wet hiss.


    I froze.


    Slowly, I turned my head.


    Perched on a broken wooden beam was a lizard¡­ no, a demon.


    Its body was long and serpentine, covered in dark green, almost rotting scales. Its limbs were thin but clawed, and its eyes glowed a sickly yellow.


    It flicked its forked tongue, hissing again.


    I frowned. Finn didn¡¯t mention anything about this one¡­


    That could only mean one thing¡ª


    It must be a Lesser Demon.


    Which also meant¡ª


    It¡¯s weak.


    I exhaled, loosening my stance. "Well, you¡¯re not what I was looking for, but¡ª"


    The lizard demon lunged.


    Fine. I¡¯ll kill you first.

 Chapter 14: The invasion of Aurewyn

    I had been walking around for ages, and all I found were a couple of low-tier demons¡ªnothing worth my time.


    At this point, I wasn¡¯t sure if Korthyn Mire was actually dangerous or if all the real threats were just hiding from me.


    Either way, I decided I was done.


    So, I turned back and made my way to the wagon.


    The moment I climbed in, Finn looked over his shoulder and smirked. "Going back early for the Starhearth Festival, huh?"


    I blinked. "The what now?"


    He raised an eyebrow. "You don¡¯t know? It¡¯s just a huge festival where everyone gathers. The firework show should start soon."


    I stared at him. Fireworks. A huge festival.


    ¡­How the hell did I not know about this?


    Suddenly, a voice clicked in my mind.


    A very annoyed voice.


    "Why am I wasting my holy magic for this fool?!"


    I flinched. Father Gabriel?!


    Then, another voice¡ªthis one sharper, irritated.


    "Just tell him!"


    Lena?!


    Before I could process what was happening, Gabriel''s voice cut through again.


    "Listen, Eli. Go back to the town near Korthyn Mire. Demons are gonna invade that place."


    My body tensed.


    "And don¡¯t try talking back¡ªbecause you can¡¯t. My magic isn¡¯t advanced enough for that."


    What?!


    I tried thinking of a response, but nothing happened. I really couldn¡¯t reply.


    Gabriel''s magic was basically a one-way voicemail.


    I clenched my fists. An invasion? Right as I was leaving?


    Damn it.


    "Finn, how fast can you make your horses go? We need to get back ASAP!"


    I grabbed onto anything sturdy in the wagon, bracing myself. This was going to be rough.


    "I¡¯ll pay you double."


    Finn, who had been lazily holding the reins, suddenly perked up.


    "Double, huh? Say less."


    With a wicked grin, he snapped the reins.


    The horses went from normal speed to "I think I just saw my soul leave my body."


    The wagon LAUNCHED FORWARD.


    I was barely holding on as the wheels bounced violently over the dirt path.


    "FINN, I SAID FAST, NOT SUICIDAL!"


    "This is fast! You wanted ASAP, right?!"


    The horses sprinted like demons were already chasing us¡ªwhich, to be fair, they probably would be soon.


    We made it back¡ªbut I was too late.


    The town was already overrun.


    Buildings burned, smoke rose into the sky, and the screams of villagers filled the air. Demons were everywhere¡ªlesser ones rampaging through the streets, tearing through anything in sight.


    But that wasn¡¯t the worst part.


    My eyes scanned the battlefield, and my stomach dropped.


    "What the hell¡­ why are there so many demons here?!"


    Then, I saw them. Figures circling in the sky, screeching as they swooped down on their prey.


    Mananangals.


    A whole swarm of them.


    I gritted my teeth, my grip on my sword tightening.


    "Shit. This just got way worse."


    Then, suddenly¡ªa hand grabbed me.


    "Yo."


    I turned and saw Ravyn standing there, his usual smug grin barely visible beneath a black combat mask.


    And behind him?


    Lena. Mark. Gabriel. Even Javier.


    All of them, fully equipped, wearing masks and battle gear.


    I blinked. Okay, this just escalated.


    I looked them over, taking in the sight. Even Javier, who usually had this laid-back, I don¡¯t give a shit aura, was standing there, adjusting his own mask.


    I exhaled sharply. "I see¡­ this is serious."


    Ravyn clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Yeah, no shit."


    I cracked my neck, rolling my shoulders. Fine. Let¡¯s do this.


    "Hey, where are you going?" Ravyn sneered, grabbing my shoulder before I could move forward.


    I turned back, confused. "What? We need to get in there¡ª"


    Lena shook her head. "We can¡¯t."


    I frowned. "What do you mean we can¡¯t?"


    Ravyn jabbed a thumb toward the town. "Look closely."


    I followed his gaze¡ªand then I saw it.


    A barrier.


    Faint, but visible. A shimmering, translucent dome that covered a huge section of the battlefield. Inside, I could barely make out the figures clashing.


    Whoever was inside wasn¡¯t just fighting. They were strong.


    Gabriel clicked his tongue. "That barrier¡¯s not natural. Someone set it up to keep us out."


    Javier, adjusting his mask, finally spoke. "Which means whoever¡¯s in there¡­ doesn¡¯t want help."


    I clenched my fists. Shit. This was bad.


    "So what now?" I muttered.


    Ravyn grinned. "Easy. We break the damn thing."


    "ELI!"


    Someone suddenly called out my name.


    I turned back and saw Yuna, running toward me.


    She stumbled to a stop, panting heavily, sweat dripping down her face.


    "Please¡­ help Kel¡ªK! We were watching the fireworks when suddenly¡ªBOOM¡ªan explosion! The next thing I knew, demons were everywhere!"


    I grabbed her shoulders, steadying her. "Are you okay?"


    She nodded quickly. "Yes, thanks to K¡­ but please, help him! I think he¡¯s inside that barrier¡ªhe ran in there earlier!"


    My grip tightened.


    K was in there?


    I turned to the shimmering dome, where the sounds of battle still raged inside.


    A one-man fight against this many demons?


    My gut twisted.


    "Tch." I exhaled, gripping my sword. "Guess we¡¯re breaking that barrier now."


    I turned to Finn, who was still sitting in the wagon, watching everything unfold with a mix of excitement and mild terror.


    "Hey, Finn¡ªtake Yuna and get out of here. Call for help in the main town."


    Finn blinked. "Wait, me?"


    "Yes, you." I shot him a look. "You got us here in record time, right? Do the same thing going back."


    He hesitated, glancing between me, Yuna, and the absolute chaos happening in the village.


    Yuna grabbed his wrist. "Finn, please. We need backup."


    Finn gritted his teeth before letting out a frustrated sigh. "Fine, fine! But you guys better not be dead when I come back!"


    "Not planning on it," I muttered.


    As Finn snapped the reins, the wagon lurched forward, speeding off into the night.


    I turned back to the barrier.


    "Alright¡­ time to break this thing."


    I looked back at the group¡ª


    And they were gone.


    "What the hell?"


    I snapped my head toward the **barrier¡ª**and sure enough, they were already inside.


    I gritted my teeth and rushed forward, passing through the shimmering dome.


    The second I stepped inside, I felt it¡ªthe heavy pressure of demonic energy. The air was thick, almost suffocating. This wasn¡¯t a normal fight.


    Then I saw them.


    Two figures locked in combat¡ªone clearly an Archdemon, its overwhelming presence pressing down on everything around it. The other¡ª


    A child?


    My mind struggled to process what I was seeing.


    Then, I noticed something worse.


    Someone was lying on the ground. Motionless.


    Missing an arm.


    My breath hitched. K?


    No¡ªno, that couldn¡¯t be him.


    I remembered what people said. K wore an Oni mask.


    This person¡­ didn¡¯t.


    "Why are we just standing here?" I asked, gripping my sword.


    Lena, arms crossed, responded without looking at me. "We need to see if they have anything up their sleeves first."


    Ravyn grinned beside her. "And more importantly¡ªsee that One-Horned Demon over there?"


    I followed his gaze.


    A lone One-Horned Demon stood near the edge of the battlefield, watching the fight silently.


    "He¡¯s the one who cast the barrier," Ravyn continued. "And for some reason? He still hasn¡¯t sensed us."


    I frowned. That¡¯s¡­ weird.


    Something wasn¡¯t right.


    And I had a bad feeling it was about to get worse.


    We continued watching the fight in silence.


    Then, we finally saw it.


    The Archdemon¡¯s power.


    The spear he wielded wasn¡¯t just a weapon¡ªit had rings wrapped around it. And those rings weren¡¯t just decoration. Each one seemed to hide a different ability.


    The Archdemon smirked, twirling his weapon. "This one enhances my speed."


    One of the rings break, releasing demonic energy.


    "Let¡¯s see if you can keep up now."


    The moment he activated it, the tide of battle shifted instantly.


    The child, who had been holding their ground before, was now getting pressed. Each strike came faster, sharper, more relentless. Their movements, once fluid, were now strained, desperate.


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    The difference in power was clear.


    Then¡ª


    CRACK.


    A sharp, eerie sound echoed through the battlefield.


    My whole body tensed. What the hell? Why did it make that sound now?


    And then¡ª


    "Let¡¯s go."


    Ravyn moved.


    All four of them¡ªRavyn, Lena, Mark, and Javier¡ªjumped down.


    "What the hell?!" I hissed, my mind racing to catch up.


    The One-Horned Demon near the edge visibly tensed. His gaze snapped toward us, his expression darkening.


    "Tch¡­ I knew this would happen if we took too long."


    Ravyn cracked his knuckles, stepping forward with his usual shit-eating grin.


    "So¡­ which one of you bastards dies first?"


    The archdemon let out a mocking chuckle, resting his spear on his shoulder. "Pft¡­ You think you can kill me with just four people? I have an army," he sneered, stretching out his arms as if presenting the carnage around him. "And this is all you bring?"


    As if on cue, the demons that had been scattered throughout the town began emerging from the rubble, their grotesque forms moving through the smoke and debris. Their eyes gleamed with malice as they closed in from all sides, the sheer number of them overwhelming.


    Then, a soft hum filled the air.


    Small orbs of golden light flickered into existence, dancing around the masked priest like fireflies. A second later, those orbs shot forward, transforming into thin, radiant beams that tore through the darkness.


    The demons didn¡¯t even have time to scream. In an instant, they were annihilated.


    A thick silence followed, the tension heavier than ever.


    "You and what army?" Gabriel said, lowering his hand.


    The One-Horned Demon had barely managed to cast a barrier in time, his face twisted in frustration as cracks formed along the surface of his spell.


    The Archdemon, however, was completely unfazed.


    His body was riddled with holes¡ªgaping wounds that should¡¯ve been fatal.


    But they weren¡¯t.


    Steam rose from his skin as his regeneration worked in overdrive, the injuries closing within seconds. He glanced down at his wounds, flexing his fingers as if testing his own durability.


    Then, he let out a deep, pleased chuckle.


    I exhaled, smirking.


    "Cool."


    I guess it was time to make my entrance.


    I jumped down, landing with absolute grace and coolness.


    ¡­At least, that¡¯s what I told myself.


    I straightened my cloak, brushing off imaginary dust, and stepped forward.


    "Let me handle this, Ravyn," I said, my tone dripping with confidence.


    Ravyn turned to me, blinked, then¡ª


    Burst out laughing.


    "PFFT¡ªHAHAHA! Oh man, you were trying to be cool, weren¡¯t you?!"


    Lena sighed. "I can¡¯t believe this idiot is on our side¡­"


    Gabriel looked up at the sky, as if asking the gods why they cursed him with my presence.


    Javier muttered, "This is why I don¡¯t talk to people."


    I scowled. "Screw you guys. That was cool."


    The One-Horned Demon studied me carefully, his expression unreadable.


    The Archdemon, still regenerating, tilted his head, amused.


    "And who are you supposed to be?" he rumbled.


    I slowly unsheathed my nameless sword, resting it on my shoulder.


    "Someone who¡¯s about to kick your ass."


    The Archdemon smirked, rolling his shoulders as the last of his wounds closed completely. Steam still hissed from his body, his unnatural regeneration working at full capacity.


    "You? Against me?" His voice was amused, his glowing red eyes locked onto me. "I was hoping for a challenge, not some¡ª"


    I moved.


    I wasn¡¯t waiting for his monologue to finish.


    I exploded forward, my blade flashing in the dim light. My body already knew¡ªSkill Eater had seen the way he moved, seen the way he fought. Even if I was weaker, slower, outmatched, I could still adapt.


    My sword aimed for his throat.


    His hand caught it mid-air.


    BOOM!


    A shockwave blasted out from the impact, sending dirt and debris flying. My arms shook from the force¡ªhis grip strength alone was enough to nearly disarm me.


    I barely had time to react before his knee shot forward, slamming into my ribs.


    CRACK!


    Pain exploded through my chest as I was launched backward, tumbling across the ground. My vision blurred, my breath hitching. That one hit nearly broke me.


    I rolled to my feet, barely standing.


    The Archdemon didn¡¯t even move.


    He tilted his head, almost disappointed. "Is that it?"


    I coughed, tasting blood in my mouth. "Tch¡­ not yet."


    I charged again.


    This time, I feinted left, switching my stance mid-step, aiming for his side.


    His **hand lashed out¡ª**but he missed by a fraction.


    I twisted, bringing my blade down¡ªa perfect counterstrike aimed for his shoulder.


    SHING!


    A thin cut appeared, barely breaking his skin.


    The Archdemon paused.


    For a split second, his eyes flickered with something new.


    Then¡ªhe grinned.


    "Oh?"


    He vanished.


    Then¡ªhe reappeared right in front of me.


    BANG!


    His punch slammed into my stomach, lifting me off the ground. My insides felt like they exploded.


    I barely had time to register the pain before¡ª


    BOOM!


    His next hit crashed into my back mid-air, slamming me into the ground. The earth cracked beneath me.


    Everything hurt.


    I gasped, my fingers clawing at the dirt, trying to push myself up.


    "Stay down." His voice was calm, absolute. Like a god looking down on an ant.


    I forced myself to my feet anyway.


    The Archdemon¡¯s grin widened. "Hah. You really don¡¯t know when to quit, huh?"


    My entire body screamed in agony. But as I stood, as I gripped my sword tighter¡ªI felt it.


    Skill Eater.


    The way he punched, the way he moved¡ªI was adjusting. My stance naturally shifted, my body preparing for the next hit before I even thought about it.


    "Not bad." I exhaled sharply. "But I learn fast."


    The Archdemon laughed.


    "Good."


    Then, he spun his spear¡ªand one of the rings on it broke.


    "Let¡¯s see how you handle this one."


    ...


    While I was getting my ass handed to me, the rest of the team had already engaged the One-Horned Demon.


    Ravyn struck first.


    His daggers blurred through the air, moving at speeds even the naked eye couldn¡¯t follow.


    The One-Horned Demon barely dodged, twisting his body just enough to avoid being skewered. But the moment he did¡ª


    Mark was already there.


    BOOM!


    Mark¡¯s fist crashed down, the sheer impact cratering the ground beneath them. The One-Horned Demon blocked with his arm, but the force still sent him skidding backward.


    Lena dashed in next, afterimages trailing behind her. Her movements were unpredictable, her blades dancing like shadows.


    She slashed¡ªbut the demon caught her wrist.


    "Tch¡ª!"


    Before he could counter, Gabriel¡¯s magic exploded forward.


    "Divine Smite."


    A golden shockwave crashed down from above, forcing the One-Horned Demon to release Lena and leap back.


    He landed gracefully, scowling.


    "Tch. You bastards are actually coordinated."


    Javier finally stepped forward.


    His hand rested on his sword.


    "You should be more worried about yourself."


    The One-Horned Demon¡¯s eyes narrowed.


    For the first time, he looked uneasy.


    ...


    The ring on his spear broke.


    The moment it activated, I knew I was fucked.


    "This one enhances my strength."


    The Archdemon lunged forward.


    I barely had time to block before¡ª


    CRASH!


    His spear struck me full force.


    The sheer impact ripped through my defenses, sending me flying through the air.


    I crashed into a stone pillar, my vision exploding with white. Pain. So much pain.


    I collapsed to the ground, coughing up blood.


    The Archdemon laughed.


    "See? This is the difference between us."


    I could barely hold my sword, but my body refused to stay down.


    I staggered, planting my feet, gripping my weapon tighter.


    I wasn¡¯t done yet.


    And for the first time¡ªthe Archdemon actually looked interested.


    "Come on, then," he said, twirling his spear. "Let¡¯s keep playing."


    This fight was far from over.


    The Archdemon stood tall, twirling his spear with an easy grace, the glowing ring still active around the weapon¡¯s shaft.


    "See? This is the difference between us."


    I staggered, barely keeping my stance. Blood dripped from my mouth, my ribs ached, and every breath felt like my lungs were being crushed under a boulder.


    But I didn¡¯t collapse.


    I didn¡¯t even waver.


    Because this pain?


    It was nothing compared to what I had already endured.


    Zareth¡¯s torture training had burned that fear out of me.


    Cuts? Bruises? Broken bones? That wasn¡¯t even worth acknowledging.


    I had been pushed past the limits of human pain tolerance long ago.


    I could keep going.


    I had to keep going.


    I exhaled, tightening my grip on my nameless sword. My body had already adjusted to his movements, but I was still too slow, too weak.


    Skill Eater wasn¡¯t enough.


    Not against this.


    The Archdemon tilted his head. "Still standing? I like that. But you should know when to quit."


    I wiped the blood from my mouth and smirked. "Yeah, I get told that a lot."


    His grin widened.


    "Then let¡¯s fix that."


    He vanished.


    I barely caught the movement¡ªhe was faster now, the boost from his spear pushing him beyond anything I could counter.


    His strike came from the left.


    I twisted my body just in time¡ªbut he adjusted mid-air.


    His spear came from below instead.


    Shit¡ª!


    BOOM!


    His weapon slammed into my ribs, the impact sending me skyward.


    But he wasn¡¯t done.


    He appeared above me in an instant, his spear already descending.


    "Fall."


    I couldn¡¯t block in time.


    CRASH!


    I hit the ground like a meteor, a shockwave of dirt and debris erupting around me. My vision blurred, pain exploding through my body.


    For a split second, my mind screamed at me to stay down.


    But I couldn¡¯t.


    I wouldn¡¯t.


    Because deep inside me¡ªsomething stirred.


    A power I had barely touched.


    I gritted my teeth. No choice.


    "Fine."


    I whispered the words only Zareth had ever spoken to me before.


    "Abyssal Override."


    The moment I activated it, I felt it.


    Everything ignited at once.


    My speed. My strength. My reflexes.


    The pain in my body? Gone.


    My exhaustion? Nonexistent.


    It was like being reborn as something monstrous.


    But I knew the truth¡ªthis power came at a cost.


    Abyssal Override didn¡¯t just enhance everything.


    It burned through my very existence.


    If I used it too long? I¡¯d die.


    But if I didn¡¯t use it?


    I¡¯d still die.


    The Archdemon stepped forward, amusement still in his eyes. "Oh? And what exactly did you just do?"


    I didn¡¯t answer.


    I moved.


    Faster than before.


    I was already behind him before he even registered my movement.


    His eyes widened.


    "What¡ª"


    SLASH!


    A deep gash appeared across his back¡ªhis regeneration kicked in, but this time? It wasn¡¯t instant.


    "Tch¡ª" He spun, his spear whipping toward my neck.


    I ducked, sidestepped, and countered all at once.


    My blade carved into his shoulder before he could even react.


    He jumped back, his expression no longer amused.


    "¡­Interesting."


    "Then let¡¯s play a little more seriously."


    ...


    The One-Horned Demon clicked his tongue, frustration clear on his face.


    "Enough of this¡ª!"


    He thrust his hand forward, demonic energy surging into a massive spell¡ª


    But before he could finish casting, a single blurred shadow appeared right in front of him.


    Ravyn.


    The demon¡¯s eyes widened in pure shock.


    "How¡ª"


    SHINK!


    Blood splattered across the battlefield.


    Ravyn¡¯s dagger had already pierced straight through his gut.


    Ravyn grinned, twisting the blade. "What¡¯s wrong? You were talking big a second ago."


    The demon coughed, barely stumbling back¡ªbefore Mark¡¯s fist slammed into his face.


    CRACK!


    His entire body flipped backward, skidding across the ground.


    Lena appeared behind him before he could recover, her blades flashing.


    Gabriel chanted a divine incantation.


    Javier calmly drew his sword.


    The One-Horned Demon¡­ was realizing just how screwed he was.


    ...


    The Archdemon¡¯s aura shifted.


    This time, there was no more arrogance.


    No smirking.


    No amusement.


    His eyes gleamed with real battle focus.


    "You are forcing me to take this seriously."


    A third ring on his spear broke.


    The entire battlefield shook.


    "This one enhances my defense."


    His body glowed, his muscles hardened, and the wounds I had just inflicted?


    They were gone in an instant.


    My heart pounded.


    I was already burning away my life force¡ªand now?


    I had to push even further.


    "Fine." I tightened my grip, taking a deep breath.


    The Archdemon¡¯s second ring activated, and I felt the shift immediately. His stance was the same, but the air around him grew heavier. His muscles hardened, his wounds sealed faster, and the smirk he once wore was gone.


    He was taking me seriously now.


    I had no time to hesitate. I moved in, my body still riding the overwhelming power of Abyssal Override. My speed let me close the distance in an instant. I aimed my blade for his throat.


    It hit.


    But instead of cutting, my sword barely made a scratch. The Archdemon¡¯s skin was like reinforced steel, his defense now on par with his monstrous regeneration. He barely flinched as he countered, his spear striking out like a whip.


    I twisted away, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow, but his follow-up kick caught me in the ribs. The impact sent me skidding across the battlefield, my feet barely keeping me upright.


    A warning flared in my mind. My body felt slower. I gritted my teeth. Abyssal Override was taking its toll.


    I couldn¡¯t keep this up.


    But I had no choice.


    The Archdemon twirled his spear, his eyes locked onto me. "I see. Your body is starting to fail you."


    I forced a smirk. "And you finally stopped grinning. Guess I must be doing something right."


    He dashed forward, his spear a blur. I barely reacted in time, parrying the first strike but missing the second. His weapon grazed my shoulder, sending a shock of pain down my arm.


    I pushed through it, slashing low. He blocked with his forearm, but this time, I anticipated the counterattack. I ducked under his swing and aimed for his ribs. My sword connected.


    Nothing.


    His defense was too strong now. Even with Abyssal Override, I wasn¡¯t dealing enough damage.


    I leapt back, trying to catch my breath. But the moment I landed, my body seized up.


    Pain exploded through my limbs.


    My muscles locked, my breath hitched, and for a terrifying moment, I couldn¡¯t move.


    The punishment had finally arrived.


    Abyssal Override was tearing me apart from the inside.


    My vision blurred, and I dropped to one knee, gripping my sword for support. My lungs burned, my veins felt like they were on fire.


    The Archdemon watched, tilting his head. "Ah. There it is. You reached too high, and now you¡¯re paying for it."


    I tried to push myself up, but my body refused. The cost of power was too great, and now I was defenseless.


    The Archdemon raised his spear. "Good effort. But this is where you fall."


    He moved in for the final strike.


    Then, a blur of motion.


    The child, the same one who had been fighting him before, was suddenly in front of me. Their small frame blocked his spear with a glowing, golden blade.


    "You¡¯re not done yet," the child said, glancing back at me. "Get up."


    The Archdemon scowled. "You again."


    I gritted my teeth, trying to push past the pain. My body wasn¡¯t listening, but I wasn¡¯t done yet.


    The fight wasn¡¯t over.


    The Archdemon¡¯s spear clashed against claws.


    Not a blade. Not a weapon.


    Just the bare hands of the child standing in front of me.


    He barely reached my waist, but there he was, stopping an Archdemon¡¯s strike with nothing but his own strength. His claws, jagged and sharp, dug into the shaft of the spear, holding it in place with ease.


    "You again," the Archdemon muttered, his expression darkening.


    I forced myself to focus, pushing through the searing pain that locked my muscles in place. My body refused to move, but my mind raced as I studied the child more closely.


    He wasn¡¯t human. His long, unkempt hair hung just above his shoulders, and a white mask covered his face, completely concealing his expression. But those claws¡ªthose monstrous, curved weapons attached to his hands¡ªmade it clear he was anything but normal.


    The child grinned behind his mask. "You''re noisy," he said, tightening his grip on the Archdemon¡¯s weapon. "And you smell good."


    The Archdemon yanked his spear back, creating distance between them. His stance shifted slightly¡ªno longer arrogant, no longer playful.


    The child rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. "I was waiting for you to use more of your strength," he said casually. "The more I see, the more I understand."


    I didn¡¯t understand what he meant at first, but then it clicked.


    He wasn¡¯t just strong. He was learning.


    The longer he fought, the stronger he became.


    The Archdemon must have realized it too. He tightened his grip on his spear. "A cursed existence," he muttered. "A beast that grows stronger the more it eats"


    He exhaled sharply, then twirled his spear.


    A fourth ring began to break.


    "This one enhances my technique."


    The child tilted his head. "Good. Show me more."


    The Archdemon moved first. Faster, sharper, every strike carrying an unnatural precision. His spear thrust forward, aiming straight for the child¡¯s head.


    The child didn¡¯t dodge.


    He bit down on the spear.


    With his teeth.


    A loud crunch echoed through the battlefield as his fangs sank into the enchanted metal, stopping the attack completely.


    The Archdemon¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief.


    The child twisted his head, snapping the tip of the spear off, then swallowed it whole.


    The air grew tense.


    He licked his lips. "Mmm. Not bad."


    I forced my body to move, my limbs barely responding. My entire body was on the verge of shutting down, but I couldn¡¯t let this fight slip away from me.


    I gripped my sword tighter, planting my feet. "Hey, kid," I muttered, still breathing heavily. "You got a name?"


    The child turned his head slightly.


    "Name? My boss named me Varis."


    "Your boss?" I asked, still struggling to steady my breath.


    Varis turned his masked face toward me. "Yes. My boss."


    Then, without hesitation, he pointed at the man lying on the ground.


    The one I had assumed was just another casualty of the fight.


    I looked closer.


    His body was a mess¡ªhis left arm completely gone, blood pooling beneath him, yet he was still conscious. His breathing was ragged, his remaining hand twitching slightly as if he was trying to move.


    That was K.


    I had expected someone intimidating, a warrior who stood above others in raw strength. But now, he was barely holding on.


    And yet¡­ even like this, there was something about him. His presence was still there, lingering even as he lay in his own blood.


    Varis turned back to the Archdemon. "I will finish this quickly. My boss does not like waiting."


    The Archdemon studied him for a moment, then let out a low chuckle. "So that''s how it is." He rolled his shoulders, spear still resting in his hands. "Then let''s see if you''re worthy of that arrogance."


    Varis crouched slightly, claws flexing. "I do not know arrogance," he said. "I only know hunger."


    The tension in the air thickened.


    Then suddenly, a blinding light beamed down onto both demons.


    The moment it touched them, their skin burned.


    They were being fried alive.


    "ARRRGHHHHHHHHH!" Both the Archdemon and the One-Horned Demon screamed, their bodies convulsing under the holy radiance. Their flesh sizzled, smoke rising from them as if they were being purged from existence itself.


    Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the light vanished.


    The battlefield was left in absolute silence.


    Both demons collapsed to their knees, gasping, their bodies covered in seared wounds that refused to heal. Even the Archdemon, who had been regenerating effortlessly before, was now struggling.


    A new presence stepped forward.


    Her footsteps were light, graceful, as if she were walking across an untouched lake.


    She was calm. Serene.


    But after seeing what she just did¡­


    I knew¡ªthis was not a peaceful presence.


    Her voice rang out, clear and unwavering.


    "Filth¡­"


    She looked down at the demons, her expression one of pure disdain.


    "Why is there filth in my kingdom?"


    I barely moved, still recovering, but my instincts screamed at me¡ªthis was no ordinary person.


    Who the hell was she?

 Chapter 15: Ravyn the stalker

    "Who¡­ are you?"


    She turned her gaze toward me, and for a moment, it felt like I was being seen through.


    Her eyes, calm yet sharp, held the weight of absolute authority.


    But she didn¡¯t answer.


    A soldier did.


    "Watch how you speak to a Grand Magus!" The man stepped forward, pointing his sword at me, his tone filled with pure offense.


    I raised my hands slightly, trying to defuse the situation. "I''m sorr¡ª"


    Before I could even finish, she cut me off.


    "That''s enough."


    Her voice wasn¡¯t loud, but it carried power. The soldier immediately froze, stepping back without hesitation.


    She exhaled, clearly irritated. Then, finally, she spoke.


    "I''m Ellianthriel Aurewyn."


    I blinked.


    Shit.


    Aurewyn? As in the Kingdom of Aurewyn?


    My mind raced as realization hit me. She wasn¡¯t just some high-ranking knight, a powerful noble, or even just a saint.


    She was the kingdom itself.


    I had just talked casually¡ªno, rudely¡ªto someone who was practically royalty.


    I knew immediately.


    I messed up.


    As I tried to collect myself, still trying to process the fact that I was standing before someone this important¡ª


    She suddenly bowed.


    The soldier beside her snickered, clearly entertained by my reaction.


    "Ahh! Why are you bowing?!" I blurted out, completely thrown off.


    Ellianthriel lifted her head, her expression unreadable. "Even though I don¡¯t want to do this," she admitted, "you and your group saved a lot of lives by keeping that demon occupied."


    I stared at her, still not fully grasping the situation.


    A Grand Magus¡ªno, the ruler of Aurewyn¡ªwas bowing to me?


    I glanced at my group.


    Ravyn looked way too amused. Lena had a hand over her mouth, definitely hiding a smirk. Mark remained silent, as always, and Gabriel looked like he wanted to carve this memory into stone just to hold it over my head later.


    Even Javier raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed.


    I turned back to Ellianthriel.


    "...I don¡¯t even know how to respond to that."


    Ellianthriel straightened, dusting off the hem of her pristine robes as if bowing had physically irritated her.


    "You don¡¯t need to respond," she said coolly. "I¡¯m simply acknowledging your efforts. Take it however you like."


    I blinked, still thrown off. "Uh¡­ sure. You¡¯re welcome?"


    Ravyn coughed, barely holding back a laugh. "Holy shit, Eli. You got royalty bowing to you, and that''s all you say?"


    Lena nudged me with her elbow. "Try not to embarrass us too much."


    Gabriel smirked. "Oh, I¡¯ll be remembering this forever."


    Ignoring them, I focused back on Ellianthriel. "So¡­ what now? You just showed up, burned half the demons alive, and introduced yourself. You planning to finish the job, or is there a reason you¡¯re here?"


    The surrounding soldiers visibly tensed at my words. A few of them instinctively reached for their weapons, but Ellianthriel simply sighed, clearly unimpressed by their reaction.


    "I came because an Archdemon and his forces had breached the Great Divide," she said, her tone sharp. "You and your group may have stalled them, but they shouldn¡¯t have been here in the first place. That is a failure on our part."


    Her gaze flickered over to the Archdemon, who was still on one knee, struggling to recover from the holy onslaught she had unleashed earlier. Even now, his body steamed as his regeneration fought against the damage.


    The One-Horned Demon, meanwhile, had collapsed entirely. His breathing was shallow, his skin burned and cracked. He wasn¡¯t dead, but he wasn¡¯t far from it either.


    Ellianthriel took a step forward, staring down at them. "Their presence alone is a crime against this land."


    She raised a single hand. Holy energy began gathering in her palm, bright and golden, like the wrath of the heavens themselves.


    I felt it immediately.


    She was about to erase them from existence.


    The air grew heavy.


    The golden energy swirling around Ellianthriel¡¯s palm intensified, radiating a holy presence so suffocating that even I¡ªwho wasn¡¯t a demon¡ªfelt the weight of it pressing down on my skin.


    The Archdemon, despite his wounds, grinned.


    "Heh¡­ so this is how it ends?" His voice was hoarse, but the amusement never left. "Not by a warrior¡¯s blade¡­ but by the judgment of a saint."


    Ellianthriel didn¡¯t flinch. "There is no redemption for your kind. You should have known that before stepping into my kingdom."


    The One-Horned Demon, who had been on the verge of passing out, suddenly coughed, barely managing to lift his head. His voice came out in a ragged whisper.


    "Wait¡ª"


    Ellianthriel¡¯s fingers twitched.


    The golden energy flared.


    The execution was about to happen.


    But then¡ª


    "Stop."


    Varis.


    His voice cut through the battlefield, clear and unshaken.


    I turned to him, confused. "What?"


    Ellianthriel narrowed her eyes. "And why would I do that?"


    Varis didn¡¯t move. He simply pointed at the Archdemon. "Because I want to eat him."


    The battlefield fell into absolute silence.


    Ellianthriel blinked. "...Excuse me?"


    The Archdemon raised an eyebrow. "Eat¡ª?"


    "I eat, I grow," Varis said, tilting his head slightly. "That thing is strong. So, I will eat it."


    I ran a hand down my face. "Goddamn it, Varis."


    Ravyn howled with laughter. "I like this kid."


    Ellianthriel, however, did not look amused. She stared at Varis for a long moment before exhaling sharply, lowering her hand. The golden energy slowly faded.


    "Very well," she said, her voice clipped. "Do as you wish. I will not waste divine power on something that will die regardless."


    The Archdemon¡¯s grin faltered. "Now, hold on¡ª"


    Varis moved.


    In a flash, he was on top of the Archdemon, claws sinking deep into his shoulders.


    Then, he bit down.


    And tore out a chunk of flesh.


    The Archdemon screamed.


    The sight was gruesome¡ªblackened blood sprayed as Varis ripped and swallowed, his body trembling with something close to ecstasy.


    I had seen a lot of things since coming to this world.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    But watching a kid in a white mask literally eat an Archdemon alive?


    This was¡­ a first.


    The soldiers around us looked horrified. Even Ellianthriel, who had remained composed this entire time, frowned slightly as she watched.


    The One-Horned Demon, still barely conscious, wheezed in terror.


    "H-he¡¯s not normal¡­!"


    Varis ignored everyone, continuing to feast.


    And then¡ªhis body changed.


    His aura spiked. The raw, oppressive **demonic energy that once belonged to the Archdemon was now leaking from him. His claws elongated, his limbs stretched slightly, and the air around him rippled with something unnatural.


    I staggered back.


    "Is he¡­ evolving?"


    Javier, who had been silent this entire time, finally spoke.


    "More than that." His voice was low, almost intrigued. "He¡¯s stealing the Archdemon¡¯s strength. And at this rate¡­ he might become something even worse."


    Ellianthriel¡¯s expression darkened. "I see. Then if he becomes a threat¡ª"


    She raised her hand again.


    I immediately stepped forward. "Hey, hold on¡ª"


    "Relax," Varis said, standing up from the half-eaten corpse of the Archdemon. His voice was slightly deeper now. "I¡¯m full."


    The tension remained thick, but Ellianthriel slowly lowered her hand again.


    I exhaled, rubbing my temples. "That was the most disgusting thing I¡¯ve ever seen."


    Varis stretched, rolling his shoulders. "It was delicious."


    Lena muttered, "We need to have a serious talk about this kid later."


    Gabriel sighed. "I need a drink."


    Ellianthriel turned away, her patience clearly wearing thin. "I¡¯ve had enough of this. The demons are gone, and my business here is finished. You and your group¡ª" she paused, giving me a pointed look, "¡ªshould leave before you cause more problems."


    Without another word, she signaled to her soldiers and began walking away.


    As the tension slowly faded from the battlefield, I turned back to my group, still trying to wrap my head around everything that had just happened.


    Ravyn grinned. "So, uh¡­ how do we top that?"


    I sighed. "We don¡¯t. Let¡¯s just get the hell out of here."


    I watched as Ellianthriel and Varis made their way toward K.


    His mask was gone.


    For the first time, I could see his face¡ªpale from blood loss, his expression unreadable. His black hair was matted with sweat and dirt, his breathing slow but steady.


    Ellianthriel knelt beside him, her gaze softening in a way I hadn¡¯t seen before.


    Varis tilted his head. "Boss, I ate him," he said casually. "You can stop pretending to be dead now."


    K didn¡¯t respond.


    Ellianthriel ignored Varis completely. She slowly raised a hand, golden light forming at her fingertips. A warm glow spread over K¡¯s body, sealing his wounds, stabilizing him. His missing arm didn¡¯t regenerate, but the exhaustion, the pain¡ªit was all fading from his face.


    I frowned.


    Something was¡­ off.


    She didn¡¯t know him. That much was clear.


    Yet, as she healed him, she watched him with something close to awe. Her usual stern demeanor was gone¡ªher hands trembled slightly as she touched his chest, her eyes locked onto his face like he was the only thing in the world.


    I wasn¡¯t the only one who noticed.


    Even her soldiers exchanged uneasy glances.


    Ellianthriel, the Grand Magus, the Saint of Aurewyn¡ªwas head over heels for a man she had never met.


    Finally, her healing magic faded. K¡¯s breathing evened out, his body no longer in critical condition.


    But he still didn¡¯t say a word.


    He just lay there, staring at the sky, as if none of this mattered.


    Then, his eyes slowly closed.


    He fell unconscious.


    Ellianthriel barely hesitated before turning to her soldiers.


    "Carry him."


    Her tone was sharp, almost urgent. The soldiers exchanged glances but didn¡¯t question it. Two of them immediately moved forward, carefully lifting K¡¯s unconscious body.


    She followed close behind, her gaze never leaving his face.


    Without another word, they turned and walked away.


    I just stood there, watching them go.


    Varis followed after them without looking back.


    The whole thing felt weird.


    But there was nothing I could do now.


    "Ahh man, why did they leave me?"


    An unfamiliar voice.


    Immediately, all of us snapped to attention, weapons drawn.


    In perfect sync, we pointed our blades, daggers, and magic toward the source of the voice.


    A man stood there, hands half-raised in confusion.


    "Uh¡­ hello?" he said, his tone more awkward than threatening.


    I studied him carefully. White hair, red eyes, lean build¡ªalmost skinny¡ªbut tall. He didn¡¯t look like a soldier, didn¡¯t wear any recognizable armor, and yet¡­


    Something about him felt off.


    Lena narrowed her eyes. "Who the hell are you?"


    The man blinked, looking between all of us, then scratched the back of his head. "Well, uh¡­ I was kinda hoping you could tell me that."


    Ravyn snorted. "Oh great, we found another idiot."


    The man suddenly burst out laughing.


    "HAHA, I¡¯m joking!" he said, waving a hand dismissively. "I¡¯m with the Saint."


    None of us lowered our weapons.


    He sighed and patted down his clothes, searching for something. After a moment, he pulled out a letter, carefully unfolding it.


    "Here." He raised it up, then cleared his throat as he began reading.


    "Dear Elric Dela Cruz,


    Your efforts in defending the town from demonic forces have not gone unnoticed. While your methods may be¡­ unconventional, the outcome was undeniable. You and your group played a pivotal role in preventing further casualties. For that, you have my thanks.


    However, raw strength and recklessness are not enough. If you truly seek to improve, then consider this an invitation.


    The Aurewyn Grand Academy of Magic and Combat is the finest institution in the kingdom. As Grand Magus, I am extending a personal invitation only to you. Whether you accept is your choice.


    But know this¡ªtrue power is more than just swinging a sword.


    Ellianthriel Aurewyn."


    Silence.


    I blinked. "Wait¡­ what?"


    The man lowered the letter and grinned. "Yeah, so basically, the Saint says ¡®good job¡¯ but also thinks you¡¯re an untrained dumbass and wants you to get educated."


    Ravyn howled with laughter. "PFFT¡ªoh my god, this is amazing!"


    Lena smirked. "I mean¡­ she¡¯s not wrong."


    I clenched my fists. "Oh, screw all of you!"


    "How did she even make that letter? She was just here," I asked, still trying to process everything.


    The man shrugged. "I don¡¯t know."


    I squinted at him. "...Then how did you get it?"


    "I don¡¯t know that either."


    I stared.


    He stared back.


    The silence stretched.


    "Are you messing with me?"


    "Probably." He grinned.


    I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Great. Fantastic. I just survived getting my ass handed to me by an Archdemon, almost died from my own skill, watched a goblin eat said Archdemon, and now I¡¯m somehow getting recruited into a magic academy. This day just keeps getting better and better."


    The man gave me a thumbs-up. "Sounds like a personal problem, buddy."


    I scowled. "Oh, screw you¡ª"


    "Well, I need to go now, so¡­"


    Before I could react, something changed.


    My body locked up.


    I couldn¡¯t move.


    None of us could.


    I tried to fight it, to resist, but my arms¡ªmy legs¡ªmoved on their own.


    Every single one of us lowered our weapons.


    "What the hell?" Lena gritted her teeth, her hands trembling as she struggled against whatever force was controlling us.


    Ravyn growled. "Tch¡ªsome kind of magic?"


    Gabriel¡¯s eyes darted around. "No incantation. No aura shift. It¡¯s¡ªsomething else."


    The man smirked, completely unfazed. "Next time you see me, please don¡¯t point a weapon at me."


    And just like that¡ªhe disappeared.


    The moment he was gone, our bodies unlocked.


    I stumbled forward, immediately gripping my sword, my breath ragged.


    Ravyn flexed his fingers, muttering curses under his breath.


    Lena¡¯s expression was unreadable, but her stance was still tense. "That wasn¡¯t normal."


    "No shit," I muttered.


    Javier, who had been silent this whole time, finally spoke. "That was an absolute command. No chant. No warning. Just raw intent."


    Gabriel wiped sweat from his brow. "That wasn¡¯t just magic. That was something else entirely."


    I exhaled, shaking off the remaining stiffness. "Who the hell was that guy?"


    No one had an answer.


    But one thing was clear¡ªwhoever he was, he wasn¡¯t someone we could mess with.


    ...


    Inside a tavern, a feast was already waiting for us.


    The scent of roasted meat, freshly baked bread, and ale filled the air. Plates were piled high, mugs foamed over, and the entire place buzzed with celebration.


    The weird part?


    We had no idea how we even got here.


    One moment, we were outside, trying to wrap our heads around what just happened. The next¡ªwe were already inside, seated at a long table, surrounded by food.


    An old man stepped forward, his hands clasped together. The tavernkeeper.


    "Thank you for helping us," he said, his voice warm with gratitude.


    I blinked, still slightly disoriented, but managed a simple, "You¡¯re welcome."


    He smiled, gesturing toward the table. "Everything here is free for you and your friends. Consider this a token of our thanks."


    Ravyn immediately grabbed a mug. "Now that¡¯s what I like to hear!"


    Lena sighed. "At least pretend to have manners."


    Gabriel was already pouring himself wine. "This is holy retribution for all the stress I¡¯ve been put through."


    I sat down, still feeling like this was all too convenient¡­ but my stomach growled.


    Maybe, for now, I should just eat.


    The feast continued, and for the first time in what felt like forever, we weren¡¯t in the middle of fighting for our lives.


    Mark was just eating¡ªno talking, no reacting, just methodically clearing plate after plate like a machine.


    Javier sat silently, his expression unreadable, sipping from a mug of what I assumed was tea instead of alcohol. Typical.


    Gabriel, meanwhile, was doing what he always did.


    "Lena, you¡¯ve been by my side in battle for so long," Gabriel said, his voice dripping with drama. "Isn¡¯t it time you finally¡ª"


    "No," Lena cut him off, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth before he could finish.


    He choked slightly before chewing. "You wound me," he mumbled through the food. "But even rejection makes my love grow stronger."


    Lena pinched the bridge of her nose. "God, I should¡¯ve just let the demons kill you."


    I sighed, shaking my head.


    Then there was Ravyn.


    Slumped over the table, half-drunk, half-crying.


    "I¡­ I was supposed to fight the Archdemon," he mumbled, wiping at his eyes. "That was my moment! My legendary battle! And what happens instead? Some kid eats him!"


    Gabriel patted him on the back. "There, there. Maybe next time you¡¯ll get to fight something big before it gets devoured."


    "It¡¯s not the same!" Ravyn sobbed, slamming his forehead onto the table.


    I grabbed a drink and leaned back in my chair, finally speaking up.


    "Alright, all jokes aside," I said, my tone more serious now. "If we were all here¡­ then who was with Elza?"


    The table went silent.


    Lena set her drink down, frowning. "That¡¯s a good question."


    Gabriel¡¯s usual smirk faded slightly. "She was with the church¡¯s forces last we saw her, right?"


    Javier, who had been completely silent until now, finally spoke.


    "If they were competent enough to guard her, we wouldn¡¯t have been summoned in the first place."


    That wasn¡¯t reassuring.


    I tapped my fingers against the table. Something didn¡¯t sit right with me.


    If every single one of us had been drawn into this battle¡­ who was protecting Elza.


    Ravyn suddenly poked my face.


    "Why are you so worried?" he slurred, still half-drunk, half-crying.


    I swatted his hand away, scowling. "What the hell are you even saying?"


    He blinked slowly, then muttered, "I¡¯m with her right now."


    I froze.


    "What?" I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean?"


    Ravyn groggily lifted his head, rubbing at his temple. "I mean¡­" he exhaled, his usual playful smirk barely forming. "I can see her."


    Lena, Gabriel, and Mark all turned toward him.


    Javier¡¯s fingers lightly tapped against his mug. "Explain."


    Ravyn tapped his head. "I left a little¡­ piece of myself with her. Not literally, you perverts," he groaned as Gabriel opened his mouth. "It¡¯s an ability I have. I can see through the eyes of my marks, and right now¡­ I can see Elza."


    I sat up straighter. "And?"


    He frowned. "She¡¯s¡­ just sleeping in our base."


    I raised an eyebrow. "Just sleeping? Then why are you frowning?"


    Ravyn''s hands shook, his face contorting as if he had just realized something horrifying.


    Then¡ªhe burst into tears.


    "I¡¯m a stalker!" he wailed, slamming his forehead against the table.


    The entire tavern went silent.


    Gabriel immediately broke into laughter, clapping him on the back. "Oh my god, he¡¯s just now realizing it!"


    Lena sighed, sipping her drink. "I mean, yeah. We all kinda knew."


    Mark, still chewing on a piece of roasted meat, gave a small nod.


    Javier, as always, remained silent, but I swore I saw him shake his head slightly.


    I groaned, rubbing my temples. "You¡¯re an idiot."


    Ravyn sniffled. "I didn¡¯t mean for it to be like this! I just thought it would be useful!"


    Gabriel smirked. "Right, right. Useful."


    Lena tilted her head. "So, what was she doing before she fell asleep?"


    Ravyn blinked, then froze.


    I frowned. "What?"


    He swallowed. "She was¡­ talking to someone."


    I felt a chill crawl up my spine.


    "Who?"


    Ravyn hesitated, his usual carefree demeanor completely gone.


    "I don¡¯t know," he muttered. "I couldn¡¯t hear anything. Just¡­ saw a shadow standing near her. And then¡­ she went to sleep."


    The table fell into silence.


    Something was wrong.

 Chapter 16: Greater Obliteration Dominion

    In the heart of a vast, snow-covered mountain range, three figures emerged from the howling blizzard, their dark silhouettes cutting through the endless white. The wind screamed around them, but they moved with an eerie stillness, untouched by the biting cold.


    The tallest among them strode forward, his long cloak billowing behind him like a shadow against the snow. His presence alone seemed to make the storm hesitate, the flakes swirling unnaturally around his form. His face, pale and sharp, held no emotion¡ªonly cold calculation.


    Behind him, a second figure trudged forward, hunched yet powerful. Thick fur draped over his shoulders, but it wasn¡¯t the cold he sought protection from. His breath came in slow, measured huffs, his clawed fingers twitching as if aching for violence.


    The last of them was smaller, barely more than a wisp of a person wrapped in layers of dark fabric. But her eyes, gleaming like molten gold beneath her hood, betrayed something far more dangerous than her size suggested.


    The tallest one came to a stop at the mountain¡¯s edge, looking down at the kingdom sprawled far below. Lights flickered in the distance¡ªvillages, towns, lives unaware of the storm brewing above them.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost time,¡± he murmured, his voice smooth yet devoid of warmth.


    The hunched figure behind him scoffed, exhaling a puff of mist into the frozen air. ¡°You keep saying that. I¡¯m starting to think you enjoy making us wait.¡± His voice was rough, guttural, like a beast barely restrained.


    The smaller figure chuckled softly. ¡°Patience, Garm. You¡¯ll get your fun soon enough.¡±


    Garm growled low in his throat but said nothing more.


    The leader extended a hand, fingers outstretched as if grasping something unseen. The wind shrieked in response, the storm raging harder, bending to his will.


    ¡°This kingdom has grown complacent,¡± he said, almost to himself. ¡°They¡¯ve forgotten what true power looks like.¡± His lips curled into something that might have been a smile. ¡°It¡¯s time we remind them.¡±


    The golden-eyed girl tilted her head, a slow grin spreading across her face. ¡°And what of the one who¡¯s been meddling? The adventurer¡­ Kelvin, was it?¡±


    The leader¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, but something in the air did¡ªan invisible weight pressing down, thick with unspoken intent.


    ¡°He¡¯s insignificant,¡± he replied. ¡°For now.¡±


    Garm¡¯s grin was all teeth. ¡°Then let¡¯s make him regret ever stepping into our path.¡±


    The storm roared, swallowing their laughter, and the mountain trembled beneath their feet.


    The wind howled like a wounded beast as the three figures stood at the mountain¡¯s edge, gazing down at the kingdom below. The storm swirled around them, a living thing bending to their presence.


    "Our master should be ready anytime soon," the leader said, his voice calm yet absolute.


    Garm rolled his shoulders, the thick fur on his back shifting with the motion. "About time. I was beginning to think he¡¯d forgotten about us." His clawed hands flexed, itching for something to tear apart.


    The golden-eyed girl let out a soft hum. "You know he moves at his own pace. What¡¯s a little more waiting?"


    Garm shot her a glare. "Easy for you to say. I need action. Blood. Not more standing around in the cold."


    The leader ignored their exchange, his pale fingers tightening at his side. The air around them vibrated with unseen power.


    "The world has grown weak in his absence," he murmured. "They celebrate peace, believing it to be permanent. Soon, they¡¯ll learn how fragile their illusions truly are."


    His golden-eyed companion smirked. "And when he awakens?"


    A slow, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of the leader¡¯s lips.


    "Then," he said, "we burn it all."


    The trio pressed onward, their dark figures weaving through the blizzard as they ascended the treacherous slopes. Each step brought them closer to their destination, the howling winds growing more restless as if sensing what lay ahead.


    The mountain had once been a place of quiet desolation, a tomb of ice and stone where few dared to tread. But as they neared their master¡¯s resting place, the land itself told a different story¡ªone of destruction.


    Garm was the first to notice, his pace slowing as he took in the sight before them. "This¡­ wasn¡¯t here before."


    The cavern they sought had once been a sealed tomb with a single entrance, buried beneath centuries of frost and rock. Now, it was ripped open, the mountainside marred with massive gaping holes¡ªeach one large enough to swallow a house. The jagged edges of the openings looked as if they had been torn apart from the inside, raw and unnatural.


    The golden-eyed girl let out a low whistle. "Well, well. Looks like someone didn¡¯t wait for us."


    The leader said nothing, his gaze sweeping over the ruined landscape. Snow swirled into the cavernous wounds in the mountain, disappearing into a darkness that seemed to pulse with unseen movement.


    Garm stepped forward, his claws scraping against the ice-covered rock. "If he¡¯s already awake, why hasn¡¯t he called for us?" His voice, usually filled with barely contained hunger, held a rare note of unease.


    The leader¡¯s eyes narrowed. "Because something is different."


    The wind howled through the open wounds in the mountain, a hollow, eerie sound that almost resembled breathing. Whatever had happened here, it had not been quiet. It had not been gentle.


    Their master had stirred.


    The trio stepped forward, moving past the gaping wounds in the mountainside and into the darkness beyond. The air inside the cavern was thick¡ªheavy, not with cold, but with something far more oppressive. It felt like the mountain itself was holding its breath, waiting.


    Garm let out a slow exhale, his clawed fingers twitching at his sides. The golden-eyed girl merely smiled, unfazed by the suffocating atmosphere. The leader, as always, remained unreadable, his gaze sweeping across the cavern¡¯s walls.


    What was once a narrow, frozen tomb had been transformed into something vast and monstrous. The stone under their feet was cracked and uneven, broken apart as if something had forced its way through. Jagged stalactites loomed above, some snapped clean in half.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Then, further in, the flicker of movement caught their eyes.


    A massive figure stood at the center of the cavern, his back turned to them. His body was thick with muscle, each movement deliberate, controlled. He was shirtless despite the cold, his scarred torso shifting as he moved through a series of intricate strikes. His hands blurred, fists cutting through the air with such force that the wind itself howled in response.


    Every motion was precise¡ªlike a beast that had learned to chain its raw strength into something disciplined, something deadly.


    The leader came to a stop, watching in silence. The golden-eyed girl smirked, folding her arms. Garm, for once, didn¡¯t speak.


    Then, the figure suddenly stopped.


    Silence.


    Without turning, their master¡¯s deep, rumbling voice filled the cavern.


    ¡°You took your time.¡±


    The leader¡¯s lips twitched into the faintest of smiles. "We had to be sure the world was ready for your return."


    The massive man finally turned, his piercing gaze falling upon them. His presence alone was suffocating, as if the very weight of his existence could crush lesser beings. His hair was wild, jet-black streaked with gray, and his eyes burned with an intensity that made it impossible to tell if he was amused or furious.


    He cracked his neck, the sound like shifting stone. "And?"


    The golden-eyed girl grinned. "Oh, they¡¯re not ready."


    Garm let out a quiet, breathy chuckle, his fingers twitching ever so slightly.


    The leader simply nodded. "Then it¡¯s time to begin."


    The master exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off centuries of stillness. Then, his gaze settled on each of them in turn, measuring, weighing.


    "You¡¯ve grown," he said, his voice like distant thunder. "But strength alone is meaningless without purpose. Show me what you have learned."


    The golden-eyed girl¡¯s grin widened. "I thought you''d never ask."


    She took a step forward, rolling up her sleeves, revealing thin, intricate crimson tattoos running along her arms. Her movements were lazy, almost playful¡ªuntil she snapped her fingers.


    The air shuddered.


    A single drop of blood slid from her fingertip, then split into hundreds, swirling into jagged crimson tendrils that coiled around her like living chains.


    Her name was Veyla, the Scarlet Jackal, and she was an artist of carnage.


    Blood Arts was her domain, and she wielded it with terrifying precision. She could harden it into blades, form it into whips, even turn her own spilled blood into deadly projectiles. The more she bled, the more dangerous she became.


    She flicked her wrist, and the blood in the air snapped into shape¡ªrazor-thin needles hovering inches from her palm. "Shall we dance, Master?"


    The master didn¡¯t react, only turning his gaze to the next.


    Garm, the hunched figure, let out a low chuckle, rolling his shoulders as if stretching after a long nap. "Tch. You act like this is a game, Veyla."


    He stepped forward, his thick fur cloak shifting with the motion. Unlike the others, he didn¡¯t draw a weapon. He didn¡¯t need one.


    At first, nothing seemed to happen.


    Then, the air around him rippled.


    An unseen force pressed outward, shifting the dust on the ground, distorting the very space around him. His fingers twitched, and the rock beside him cracked¡ªnot from touch, but from something invisible, something unseen.


    His name was Garmundh, the Hollow Fang, and he wielded hands that did not exist.


    He had no limit to them¡ªno defined shape. They could be as soft as a whisper or as crushing as a mountain. Some brushed against the cavern floor like phantoms, others cracked the stone underfoot without ever making a sound.


    He cracked his knuckles, though the real sound came from the dozens of unseen fingers flexing around him. "Let¡¯s see if you¡¯re still as terrifying as the stories say, old man."


    The master remained unshaken. His gaze finally settled on the last of them.


    Unlike the others, the leader didn¡¯t move, didn¡¯t summon power. He simply stood, watching, calculating.


    His name was Theron, the Black Fox, and he had no magic, no bloodline ability.


    All he had was his mind.


    But in the hands of a man like him, that was more dangerous than any spell.


    He had survived wars without ever lifting a blade. He had orchestrated victories against impossible odds. He had stood before men and women who could tear mountains asunder¡ªand walked away alive.


    He exhaled, rolling his neck. "I''ll pass."


    Veyla snorted. "Coward."


    Theron smirked. "Strategist."


    Their master exhaled, stepping forward at last. The mountain itself seemed to react, as if the weight of his presence was sinking into the stone.


    "You are all skilled," he admitted, rolling his shoulders. Then, a slow grin crept across his scarred face. "But you are not strong."


    Without warning, he moved.


    One step.


    And the ground shattered.


    In an instant, he was upon them, his massive fist cutting through the air. It wasn¡¯t brute force¡ªit was calculated destruction, raw power refined through centuries of martial mastery.


    He was Hadeon, the Mountain Breaker, master of the Demon Arts¡ªa martial style honed through relentless combat. Every strike carried enough force to break the land itself.


    This was not a test.


    This was a lesson.


    And they were about to learn it the hard way.


    The air cracked as Hadeon¡¯s fist carved through the space between them, a force so immense it seemed to drag the wind with it.


    But it never landed.


    Instead, his strike missed¡ªby design.


    A heartbeat later, the ceiling above them exploded.


    Stone shattered like brittle glass, chunks of mountain rock launching skyward as an unstoppable shockwave tore through the cavern. The sheer force of it didn¡¯t just destroy the top of the cave¡ªit carved through the storm itself.


    Above, the swirling blizzard split apart, leaving a perfectly circular gap in the raging clouds. The sky beyond was a deep, endless void, stars flickering within the temporary stillness.


    For the first time since they had arrived, silence reigned.


    Garm took a slow step back, eyes narrowing as the dust settled around them. His unseen hands¡ªthose phantom-like extensions of his will¡ªhovered close, gripping nothing, yet ready to crush anything. His usual smirk was gone.


    Veyla, for all her bloodthirst, whistled low. "You really don¡¯t hold back, do you?"


    Theron simply adjusted his collar, eyes gleaming with understanding. "That wasn¡¯t just power," he muttered. "That was control."


    Hadeon rolled his shoulders, exhaling slowly. His body remained relaxed, but the crater beneath his feet told another story. He didn¡¯t need weapons. Didn¡¯t need magic.


    His Demon Arts were enough.


    "You lot are too confident in what you think you know," he said, stepping over the rubble. "You¡¯ve slain warriors, crushed kingdoms, and now you call yourselves GOD."


    The way he said the name¡ªcalm, unimpressed¡ªsent a strange chill through the air.


    "Tell me," Hadeon continued, looking at them each in turn, "have you ever stood before something truly unkillable?"


    Veyla smirked. "Not yet."


    Hadeon¡¯s grin widened, but his eyes remained unreadable. "Then maybe it¡¯s time you learn the difference between power and absolute strength."


    The moment Hadeon spoke, the mountain itself seemed to shudder. The weight of his words pressed against them, as if something unseen had shifted¡ªa force beyond raw strength, beyond mere battle instincts.


    Garm¡¯s smirk returned, slow and knowing. His unseen hands flexed around him, subtle distortions in the air cracking the loose debris underfoot. "Unkillable, huh?" His voice was a low rasp. "That just means we have to find the right way to break it."


    Veyla let out a soft chuckle, rolling up her sleeves. Thin red lines formed along her skin, blood rising to the surface unnaturally, coiling around her fingers like hungry serpents. "Sounds fun."


    Theron, as always, said nothing at first. He simply studied Hadeon, his expression carefully neutral. Then, after a moment, he let out a quiet breath. "You''re not just talking about some thing." His gaze flickered toward the shattered cavern ceiling. "You''re talking about what comes next."


    Hadeon met his eyes, and for the first time, there was something in his gaze that hadn¡¯t been there before. Not challenge. Not amusement.


    Something darker.


    "The world has forgotten what it means to fear," he said. "They believe in limits. In strength that has a ceiling. In victories that are final." He stepped forward, towering over them, his presence suffocating in the enclosed space. "But we¡ªwe¡ªdo not live in that world. We are something beyond it."


    His fist clenched, and the air around it distorted. The very space twisted, as if the laws of nature were bending in protest to contain him.


    Theron exhaled. He understood now.


    This wasn¡¯t about some enemy they had yet to face.


    This was about what they would become.


    Garm¡¯s grin widened, teeth sharp in the dim light. "So, what¡¯s the plan?"


    Veyla spun a thin spear of hardened blood between her fingers, golden eyes gleaming. "Yeah, boss. What¡¯s next?"


    Hadeon looked past them, through the broken ceiling, into the night sky beyond.


    Then, in a voice like rolling thunder, he answered.


    "We remind the world why it fears the dark."


    The mountain trembled beneath their feet, and the storm began to close in once more.

 Chapter 17: Im Officially A Student

    I woke up expecting everyone to still be here, but it seemed they had left much earlier than I expected.


    The room was quiet, almost too quiet. The kind of stillness that made it clear I had been left behind.


    I sighed, running a hand through my hair before noticing a letter on the nightstand.


    From Ravyn.


    Great. This could either be something important¡­ or absolute nonsense.


    I picked it up and unfolded the paper.


    "Uhh¡­ good luck and study well¡­ and uhh¡­ and uhh¡­ and uhh¡­ oh yeah! The figure Elza was talking to was actually no one. I guess I was just too drunk yesterday. Hehe."


    I stared at the letter.


    Then read it again.


    Then slowly crumpled it in my fist.


    "¡­What did I expect?" I muttered, sighing.


    So after all that tension, all that worry¡ªit was nothing?


    Typical Ravyn.


    Shaking my head, I got up, stretched, and made my way downstairs.


    The tavern was much quieter now. A few early risers sat at the wooden tables, eating simple meals, murmuring softly amongst themselves. The tavernkeeper gave me a small nod as I approached, setting down a plate of breakfast without me even needing to ask.


    Bread, eggs, and some kind of roasted meat. Simple, but good enough.


    I ate in silence, my thoughts drifting back to yesterday¡¯s battle.


    When I finally stepped outside, the sight before me made my stomach sink a little.


    The village was still recovering.


    People were working tirelessly, repairing broken buildings, cleaning up debris, and tending to the wounded. The air smelled of burnt wood and lingering ash. Even though we had stopped the demons, the scars they left behind remained.


    I watched as a group of children helped stack bricks for a collapsed wall, their small hands dirty with soot. Nearby, a woman was kneeling by a broken stall, staring at the charred remains of whatever business she had once owned.


    The aftermath of war was always ugly.


    And this was just one village.


    I exhaled, adjusting the strap of my sword.


    There was still so much more to do.


    The thought of what that guy said yesterday still lingers. To go to an academy.


    "Hmm." My past wasn¡¯t all sunshine and rainbows. If anything, it was more about 2D girls than real life. What was the term again? Right... Sigh¡ªa NEET.


    I didn¡¯t finish college, but I did manage to graduate high school. Not that it mattered much in the end. The thought of going to school again... The bullying I suffered.


    Maybe this is the way the universe wants me to face my past. I was summoned here for a reason, so I¡¯ll live this life fully.


    "Now¡­ where is that academy?"


    I muttered to myself, glancing around. The thought of stepping into a school again made my stomach twist, memories of whispers and laughter at my expense bubbling to the surface. But this wasn¡¯t the same world, and I wasn¡¯t the same person.


    I clenched my fists. No more running. If fate had dragged me here, then I¡¯d make the most of it.


    ...


    I see it. Well, not like it¡¯s hard to miss that massive building.


    I expected to walk all the way here, but surprisingly, they had steam engines. Maybe this world is more advanced than I thought¡­ or is it just this kingdom?


    I frowned, watching as a large steam-powered carriage rumbled past, hissing as it expelled white vapor into the air. The mix of medieval architecture and industrial technology felt strange¡ªalmost like this place was caught between two eras.


    As I stepped off the train, I was greeted¡ªnot by one person, but by five.


    "Sir Eli, please join our guild! We will¡ª" one man eagerly stepped forward, only to be cut off by another.


    "No, you should join us!" a second voice chimed in, just as desperate.


    Before I could react, another figure pushed through the small crowd, shoving the others aside. "Move!" he barked before dropping to one knee before me. "Sir Eli, please join The Crossed Irons."


    The Crossed Irons... The name had a certain weight to it. It carried strength, purpose. I like it.


    I turned my gaze to the others still fighting for my attention.


    Arcane Order¡ªa guild dedicated to magic. Well, I don¡¯t really have mana, so that¡¯s out.


    Golden Ledger Consortium¡ªa merchant guild. I could definitely use money¡­ but do I really want to spend my days negotiating trade deals?


    Fists of the Eternal Flame¡ªjudging by their logo, a clenched fist engulfed in fire, they were likely a martial artist guild. Not exactly my style, but I respect the discipline.


    And finally, The Crossed Irons¡ªa guild focused on swordsmanship.


    God, what are these choices? Are they even real guilds? I thought guilds were supposed to be groups working toward something meaningful, not desperate recruiters swarming new arrivals.


    I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "So¡­ what exactly do your guilds do?"


    I took a deep breath, glancing at each representative before me. Alright, let¡¯s see what I¡¯m dealing with.


    The first man, wearing deep blue robes embroidered with silver runes, stepped forward with an air of superiority. "We of the Arcane Order seek those who possess a sharp mind and an affinity for magic. Though you may not have mana now, with the right tutelage, anything is possible."


    I resisted the urge to sigh. "Yeah¡­ not exactly my specialty."


    A woman in fine merchant attire adjusted her glasses and gave me a shrewd smile. "The Golden Ledger Consortium can offer you wealth, influence, and stability. You¡¯d be surprised how far coin can take you in this world."


    I had to admit, that one was tempting. Having money meant access to better equipment, better living conditions, and fewer headaches. But did I really want to spend my time negotiating and managing trade deals?


    Before I could reply, a muscular man wearing a sleeveless gi and flame-embroidered sash cracked his knuckles. "Join the Fists of the Eternal Flame, and you¡¯ll forge your body into an indomitable weapon. We accept only the strongest, and you have potential."


    I stared at the flaming fist emblem on his chest and barely held back a sigh. Yeah¡­ I don¡¯t think pure hand-to-hand combat is for me.


    Then, the man who had knelt before me¡ªhis armor scratched but well-maintained¡ªstood tall and spoke with unwavering conviction. "The Crossed Irons is the path of the sword. We forge our will through battle, and only the finest warriors can call themselves Ironsworn. You carry a blade, don¡¯t you?"


    That one actually caught my interest. I glanced down at Nyxrend, the sword at my hip. A guild focused entirely on swordsmanship? That might not be a bad idea¡­


    Before I could make up my mind, the final representative¡ªa hooded woman with piercing golden eyes¡ªspoke in a quiet but firm voice. "The Mystic Keepers of Balance do not seek fame or fortune. We ensure the world remains in equilibrium, preventing any one force from upsetting the grand design. We are the watchers in the dark, the hands that tip the scales when needed."


    That sent a chill down my spine. Mediators, spies, and saboteurs? That¡¯s¡­ unsettling.


    I crossed my arms, glancing between them. "God¡­ what are these choices?" I muttered under my breath. "Are these even really guilds? I thought guilds were about achieving something greater, not just recruiting random people off a train."


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    The Arcane Order representative frowned. "We are far from random. We have sought you out because we see potential in you."


    The merchant woman from the Golden Ledger Consortium chuckled. "And because securing talent early is always a wise investment."


    The martial artist from the Fists of the Eternal Flame grinned. "Because we recognize a fighter when we see one."


    The knight from the Crossed Irons nodded. "Because you carry a blade, and that means you have a duty to master it."


    The hooded woman from the Mystic Keepers of Balance simply observed, offering no justification¡ªjust waiting for my answer.


    I exhaled sharply. No pressure, right?


    I was starting to lean toward the Mystic Keepers of Balance. They sounded mysterious, powerful¡ªlike they knew things no one else did. And, if I was being honest, I always wanted to be a ninja.


    My decision made, I pointed directly at the hooded woman. "You. I¡¯d like to join your guild¡ªbut under one condition."


    The other representatives fell silent, watching intently.


    "I¡¯ll only take on your missions, training, and whatever else you throw at me after I¡¯ve finished studying at the academy," I continued. "Until then, I¡¯m just a student."


    For a moment, there was no response. The hooded woman¡ªLyana Orin, if I remembered correctly¡ªstudied me with her piercing golden eyes. Then, without a hint of hesitation, she gave a slow, deliberate nod.


    "A fair request," she said, her voice smooth yet unreadable. "We are patient, and we understand the value of preparation. Very well, Elric Dela Cruz. From this moment on, you are an Initiate of the Mystic Keepers of Balance."


    A strange chill ran down my spine. Did she just use my full name?


    The other guild representatives weren¡¯t as composed.


    The Arcane Order recruiter scoffed. "What a waste of potential."


    The Golden Ledger Consortium representative shook her head. "Such a shame. I could¡¯ve made you a very rich man."


    The Fists of the Eternal Flame member crossed his arms. "You¡¯d rather skulk in the shadows than forge your body into steel? Your loss."


    Only the Crossed Irons knight remained respectful. He nodded at me. "I respect your decision. May your blade always find its mark."


    Lyana extended a gloved hand. "We will be watching your progress, Initiate. When the time comes, we will call upon you."


    I hesitated for only a second before shaking her hand. Her grip was firm, but her touch was ice-cold.


    Without another word, she turned and walked away¡ªno, disappeared into the crowd. One moment she was there, the next, gone.


    I exhaled sharply and rubbed the back of my neck. "Well¡­ that happened."


    I turned to face the towering academy gates, my next challenge looming ahead.


    "Alright," I muttered to myself, stepping forward. "Time to actually get into this school."


    ...


    As I headed into The Aurewyn Grand Academy of Magic and Combat, I felt something strange. And this time, it wasn¡¯t my stomach¡ªit was the weight of dozens of eyes on me.


    People were staring, whispering among themselves as I walked past.


    Holy shit, this is so awkward. My steps slowed instinctively. Why is everyone staring at me?


    A group of students near the entrance glanced my way, one of them nudging their friend before whispering something. A few others shot me side-eyes, some curious, some¡­ amused?


    I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to shrink into myself. I wish you were here, Porky.


    At least my oversized boar wouldn¡¯t care about social norms. He¡¯d just trample through, chewing on someone¡¯s cloak while I tried to process whatever the hell was happening.


    I hadn¡¯t even enrolled yet, and I was already the subject of gossip.


    What is this, some kind of initiation ritual?


    The Aurewyn Grand Academy of Magic and Combat was unlike anything I had ever seen.


    The massive stone archway marking the entrance stood tall, adorned with ancient runes that faintly pulsed with energy. The academy itself loomed beyond it¡ªa grand fortress-like structure with towering spires, elaborate stained-glass windows, and intricate carvings of mythical beasts etched into the weathered stone. Despite its age, the building radiated an aura of power and prestige, as if it had stood the test of time for centuries.


    The front yard was alive with activity. To my left, a group of students practiced magic, their hands glowing as they conjured fire, water, and lightning. Some struggled, nearly setting their robes ablaze, while others performed spells with the precision of seasoned mages.


    To my right, swords clashed as aspiring warriors sparred in designated training circles, their instructors barking corrections. The sharp ring of steel echoed through the air, mixing with the occasional grunt of pain or triumph.


    Further ahead, beneath the shade of an enormous oak tree, several students sat with books in hand, deep in study. Some scribbled furiously on parchment, while others muttered incantations under their breath, testing their knowledge. It was a strange but fascinating sight¡ªcombat and academia seamlessly intertwined.


    I swallowed hard and stepped forward, pushing past the entrance and into the main hall.


    Inside, the grandeur only intensified. The ceilings stretched impossibly high, upheld by massive pillars inscribed with ancient text. Chandeliers hovered above, glowing with an ethereal blue light, casting a soft radiance over the polished marble floors. Hallways branched out in multiple directions, each leading to different wings of the academy.


    Students bustled through the corridors, dressed in robes of various colors¡ªeach hue likely denoting their area of study. Some carried stacks of books, others enchanted quills that floated beside them, jotting down notes as they walked. A few were engaged in deep discussion, their hands gesturing wildly as they debated magical theories or battle tactics.


    I took a deep breath, still feeling the weight of countless stares, and made my way toward the headmaster¡¯s office.


    The path led me through a spiraling stone staircase, past doors marked with unfamiliar symbols, and finally to a pair of massive double doors with a crest emblazoned in gold¡ªa phoenix rising from an open book, surrounded by crossed swords.


    I hesitated only for a second before pushing them open.


    Inside, an enormous wooden desk sat at the center of a vast, circular chamber. Towering bookshelves lined the walls, filled with ancient tomes, scrolls, and artifacts encased in protective glass. Floating candles drifted lazily above, their soft glow illuminating the room in a warm light.


    And at the far end, seated behind the desk, was the headmaster.


    An older man with sharp, piercing eyes that seemed to dissect me the moment I stepped in. His deep-blue robes were adorned with silver embroidery, resembling constellations. He didn¡¯t look frail, despite his age¡ªif anything, his presence was suffocating, like a storm waiting to break.


    For a moment, he simply observed me in silence. Then, he spoke.


    "So¡­ you are Elric Dela Cruz."


    I stiffened.


    Oh, great. He already knows my name.


    "Don''t be too shocked, we were expecting you," he said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. He coughed lightly before continuing, "My name is Alden Garner."


    I stared at him, taking in the details¡ªhis regal posture, the fine embroidery on his robes, the way his piercing gaze never wavered.


    But none of that really mattered.


    Because the only thing that truly caught my attention¡­


    Was his bald head.


    Damn, that thing is smooth.


    It reflected the warm glow of the floating candles, almost like it had been polished to perfection. I had to resist the urge to squint, wondering if there was some kind of magic involved.


    I cleared my throat, trying to push the thought aside. "Right¡­ Headmaster Garner."


    His eyebrow twitched slightly.


    Shit. Did he notice?


    "Please, sit down. We have much to discuss," Alden said, gesturing toward the chair in front of his desk.


    I hesitated for a second before stepping forward and lowering myself into the seat. The cushion was surprisingly comfortable, but that didn¡¯t do much to ease the tension settling in my shoulders.


    Alden folded his hands together, his sharp gaze never leaving me. "Your arrival at the academy has stirred quite a bit of interest. I assume you''ve already noticed the whispers."


    I exhaled. "Yeah, kind of hard to miss when half the school is staring at me like I have a second head."


    The headmaster chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "That is to be expected. You are not an ordinary student, Elric Dela Cruz."


    There it was again¡ªmy full name. The way he said it felt intentional, like he was testing something.


    I leaned back slightly. "Alright, I''ll bite. What exactly do you mean by that?"


    "To fight an Archdemon at such a young age and to be personally noticed by Archmage Ellianthriel Aurewyn¡­ I suppose attention is not something you can avoid," Alden said, his voice calm yet deliberate.


    I stiffened. Ellianthriel Aurewyn? That name again.


    First, she annihilates an entire demon swarm in seconds. Then, she takes an interest in K. And now, apparently, she¡¯s been keeping tabs on me too?


    I forced a chuckle, though it came out more strained than I intended. "Yeah, well¡­ I wasn¡¯t exactly trying to get on anyone¡¯s radar. The Archdemon kind of forced my hand."


    Alden steepled his fingers, studying me as if weighing something in his mind. "Regardless of intent, the fact remains that you have stepped into a world where power and reputation carry significant weight. There are many who would seek to use you, test you, or eliminate you¡ªdepending on how they perceive your potential."


    Oh great, now I have to worry about assassination attempts too?


    I sighed and leaned back in my chair. "So what, is this the part where you warn me to keep my head down?"


    Alden smirked slightly. "Quite the opposite. Hiding would only invite more curiosity. Instead, I suggest you focus on mastering your abilities. The academy will provide you with the tools you need¡ªwhether you choose to use them wisely is up to you."


    I exhaled sharply. Fantastic. No pressure at all.


    I drummed my fingers against the armrest, letting his words sink in.


    "So, what exactly does the academy expect from me?" I asked. "Am I just another student, or am I supposed to be something¡­ more?"


    Alden leaned back slightly, his gaze unwavering. "For now, you are a student. You will attend classes, train, and grow stronger like any other. However¡ª" he paused, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "¡ªmany here will be watching you. Not just the faculty, but the nobles, the military, and even the High Pontiff¡¯s Circle."


    I blinked. "The High Pontiff?"


    Alden nodded. "Elza Evendawn has taken an interest in you as well. Her support ensures your protection¡­ for now."


    Do they not know I live with her?


    I held back a sigh. If Elza¡¯s support was the only thing keeping certain people from coming after me, that meant I was already in deeper than I thought.


    Alden studied me for a moment, as if gauging my reaction. "That being said, the academy will not shield you from the challenges ahead. Your reputation, your alliances, your enemies¡ªyou will have to navigate them on your own."


    "Fantastic," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "So basically, I¡¯m free to make as many mistakes as I want, as long as I don¡¯t die in the process."


    A small smirk crossed Alden¡¯s lips. "That is one way to put it." He gestured toward a stack of neatly arranged papers on the side table. "Your enrollment forms. Once you sign them, you will officially be a student of Aurewyn Grand Academy."


    I stepped forward, picking up the quill. The parchment felt heavier than it should, as if the decision carried more weight than I realized.


    No turning back now.


    And with that, I just signed away my freedom.


    Alden took the parchment, giving it a quick glance before nodding in satisfaction. Without missing a beat, he handed me a piece of paper along with a neatly folded set of clothes.


    "This contains your schedule, dorm number, and academy uniform," he said, his tone still composed but slightly lighter.


    I unfolded the paper and scanned the details. My dorm number was listed as West Wing, Room 217. At least I wouldn¡¯t be sleeping outside.


    Alden leaned back in his chair. "I hope your stay here will be enjoyable. Though, do not feel pressured about joining mid-semester."


    I let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, I¡¯m sure jumping into a school full of prodigies and noble brats halfway through won¡¯t be overwhelming at all."


    The headmaster smirked but said nothing.


    I sighed, tucking the schedule into my pocket and grabbing the uniform. "Guess I better get settled in."


    With that, I turned toward the doors, ready to step into my new life at Aurewyn Grand Academy.

 Chapter 18: Headmaster Alden "BALD" Garner

    My dorm room isn¡¯t as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, compared to the tiny, rundown apartment I had back in my world, this place feels almost luxurious. The air is fresh, not stale with the lingering scent of instant noodles and regret. Yeah, anything would be better than that old place.


    I set my belongings down near the bed and take a moment to look around. The room is simple but well-kept¡ªsturdy wooden furniture, a large window letting in the afternoon sunlight, and a small desk pushed against the wall, perfect for studying. There''s even a wardrobe, though I doubt I''ll be filling it with much.


    I walk over to the bed and press down on the mattress. Not too soft, not too firm¡ªway better than the creaky, secondhand thing I used to sleep on.


    Letting out a breath, I glance at the door. So this is home now, huh?


    I put on my new uniform, adjusting the fabric as I check the fit. A crisp white polo and neatly pressed blue slacks¡ªnot exactly my usual style, but at least the colorway isn¡¯t that bad. The material feels surprisingly comfortable, not too stiff or heavy.


    I turn to the small mirror hanging on the wall, smoothing out the wrinkles. Well, this is definitely an upgrade from a hoodie and jeans.


    With a final glance, I exhale and roll my shoulders. Alright. Time to see what this academy is really like.


    I grab my bag and step out of the dorm, shutting the door behind me. The hallway is already buzzing with activity¡ªstudents walking in groups, some chatting, others hurrying off as if they¡¯re already late for something. The air is thick with excitement and nervous energy.


    As I make my way through the corridors, I take in the grand architecture of the academy. Towering arched ceilings, polished marble floors, and walls lined with massive windows letting in streams of golden morning light. Ornate banners hang from the rafters, each bearing the academy¡¯s crest¡ªa majestic wyvern wrapped around a sword and staff.


    Ahead, a few students practice spells in an open courtyard visible through the windows. Blue and crimson flames flicker between their hands, while others conjure glowing sigils midair. In another section, a group of swordsmen clash with wooden blades, their movements sharp and disciplined.


    I can¡¯t help but stare. This place is like something straight out of a fantasy novel¡­ Oh wait. It basically is.


    Lost in thought, I barely notice someone stepping into my path until it¡¯s too late.


    ¡ªThud.


    I stumble back, rubbing my shoulder. "Damn, sorry about that¡ª"


    The person I bumped into barely moves. A tall, broad-shouldered guy with dark brown hair and sharp green eyes glares down at me. His uniform is pristine, his stance rigid, and from the way he carries himself, I can already tell¡ªhe¡¯s one of those noble types.


    "You should watch where you¡¯re going," he says coolly, adjusting his sleeve like I just inconvenienced his entire morning.


    Great. I¡¯ve been here for less than an hour, and I¡¯ve already pissed off some high-ranking student.


    I quickly bow, keeping my head down. "Sorry!"


    The guy narrows his eyes but doesn¡¯t say anything right away. For a second, I wonder if he¡¯s going to make a big deal out of it, but then he just exhales through his nose and steps aside.


    "Hmph. Just be more careful next time," he says, his tone carrying the usual noble arrogance. Without another word, he walks past me, his footsteps sharp and precise against the polished floor.


    I straighten up and let out a breath I didn¡¯t realize I was holding. Well, that could''ve gone worse.


    Shaking off the tension, I continue down the hallway. Eventually, I reach a grand set of double doors, their surface engraved with intricate runes. A few other students are making their way inside, chatting excitedly. This must be the main lecture hall.


    Alright. First day at the academy. Let¡¯s see how this goes.


    I push the doors open and step inside.


    The moment I step inside, the sheer size of the lecture hall takes me by surprise. The room is massive, with rows of tiered seating that stretch all the way to the back. At the front, an elevated podium stands beneath a floating crystal, its soft glow illuminating the entire space. The walls are lined with towering bookshelves, filled with thick tomes and scrolls, some even levitating slightly as if eager to be read.


    Students are scattered throughout the hall, some already seated, others chatting in groups. A few glance at me as I enter, their whispers barely audible, but I can feel their eyes lingering. Great. More staring.


    I shake it off and move toward an empty seat near the middle. As I sit down, I hear someone scoff from behind me.


    "So that¡¯s the guy, huh? The one who fought an Archdemon?"


    "Doesn¡¯t look like much."


    "Maybe it was just luck."


    I resist the urge to sigh. Of course, the rumors got here before I did.


    Before I can dwell on it, a sudden pressure fills the room. It¡¯s not an attack, but an overwhelming presence¡ªone that demands attention. The entire hall falls silent.


    At the front of the room, an older man has stepped onto the podium. His long silver hair is tied back neatly, and his deep blue robes carry the insignia of the academy. His piercing gaze sweeps across the students, sharp and calculating.


    Alden Garner, the Headmaster.


    "Welcome," he says, his voice carrying effortlessly through the hall. "To those returning, I expect nothing less than excellence. To our new students¡­ do not mistake this place for a mere school."


    The glowing crystal above him flares for a moment, and a sudden gust of wind rushes through the hall, as if responding to his presence.


    "This academy is a forge," Alden continues, eyes narrowing slightly. "And you are the metal. Whether you emerge as a sharpened blade or shattered scrap depends entirely on you."


    A quiet murmur spreads through the room. Some students nod confidently, while others shift uncomfortably in their seats.


    I lean back slightly, watching him closely. This guy doesn¡¯t play around.


    Alden clasps his hands behind his back. "Your first lessons begin tomorrow. Until then, I suggest you familiarize yourselves with the academy grounds. Dismissed."


    Just like that, the pressure in the air vanishes, and the students begin filing out.


    I exhale, stretching my arms. First day¡¯s not too bad so far. But I have a feeling it won¡¯t stay that way for long.


    Realizing the contradiction, I frown. Wait¡­ I joined halfway through the semester, didn¡¯t I? So why is he acting like this is the start for everyone?


    There¡¯s only one way to get an answer.


    I get up from my seat and make my way toward the front of the lecture hall. By the time I step onto the platform, most of the students have already left, leaving only a few stragglers talking amongst themselves. Alden is still there, speaking briefly with another faculty member.


    I wait until their conversation ends before stepping forward. "Headmaster Garner, may I ask you something?"


    He turns to face me, his sharp gaze studying me for a moment before he nods. "Walk with me," he says, turning toward the side exit of the hall.


    I follow him through the corridors, the echoes of our footsteps filling the space. Soon, we arrive at his office¡ªa large room lined with bookshelves, magical artifacts, and an ornate desk covered in neatly stacked papers. A massive window behind the desk offers a breathtaking view of the academy grounds.


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    "You addressed everyone as if this was the start of the semester," I say, glancing at him. "But I joined halfway through, didn¡¯t I?"


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    Alden nods, hands clasped behind his back. "You did. However, due to recent¡­ events, the academy¡¯s schedule has shifted. Some courses have been reset, and new students were admitted earlier than expected."


    I frown. "Let me guess¡ªbecause of me?"


    He chuckles lightly. "You and a few other factors. But make no mistake, your presence here has made waves. People will want to test you. Some out of curiosity, others for more¡­ political reasons."


    I exhale sharply. "So basically, I have a target on my back."


    "More or less," he admits, leading me toward a large set of double doors. "Consider it an opportunity. You¡¯ll need to prove yourself here, just as you have outside these walls."


    We step onto a balcony overlooking the academy grounds. Below, students are training¡ªsome sparring with swords, others casting magic in controlled bursts. A few sit under the shade of ancient trees, buried in their studies. The entire place feels alive, a world within a world.


    Alden gestures toward the scene. "This is where your real journey begins. Study, train, and prepare. But most of all, be wary of those who take too much interest in you. Not all attention is beneficial."


    I watch the students below, feeling the weight of his words settle over me. I was already expecting trouble, but this just makes things worse.


    After a moment, I nod. "Got it."


    Alden clasps my shoulder briefly before turning away. "Welcome to Aurewyn Grand Academy, Eli. Try not to disappoint."


    As he walks off, I remain on the balcony, watching the world I¡¯ve just stepped into.


    I look over the balcony again, watching students duel below. The clash of steel against steel rings out as swordsmen test their skill, their movements sharp and disciplined. But what truly catches my attention is magic.


    I''ve seen it in manga and manhwa before¡ªcharacters throwing fireballs, summoning storms, bending reality itself¡ªbut witnessing it in real life is something else entirely. Streams of fire dance through the air, shimmering barriers deflect incoming strikes, and one student even levitates mid-duel, dodging an opponent¡¯s attack with unnatural grace.


    Come to think of it¡­ I haven¡¯t actually fought any mages yet.


    Most of my battles so far have been against knights, warriors, and monsters. All physical opponents. If I ever go up against someone who relies entirely on magic, how would I counter them? Nyxrend might be powerful, but it¡¯s still just a sword. Against someone who can attack from a distance or warp the battlefield itself, would brute force even be enough?


    I grip the balcony railing, my mind already racing through scenarios. I need to learn how magic works¡ªnot just how to fight against it, but how to predict and counter it properly. Otherwise, sooner or later, I¡¯ll run into someone who¡¯ll turn me into a pile of ash before I even get close.


    "Hah," I mutter, leaning against the railing. "If only I had mana... I wanna try doing a fireball."


    I glance down at the sword strapped to my waist, absentmindedly gripping the hilt. But the moment my fingers tighten around it, something feels... off.


    "Wait." I pull the blade slightly from its sheath, and my stomach drops. "You''re not Nyxrend."


    The metal glints in the sunlight, a simple yet well-forged sword¡ªcompletely unremarkable compared to Nyxrend''s dark, soul-hungry edge.


    I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Great. I must¡¯ve forgotten Nyxrend in my dorm room."


    I sheathe the nameless sword with a click, shaking my head at my own carelessness. Of all the things to forget, why did it have to be that sword? I can''t exactly run back for it now, not without looking suspicious.


    "Nyxrend better not be eating my blankets or something," I grumble, already making a mental note to retrieve it the first chance I get.


    I turn around and start walking, hands tucked into my pockets. "Now, what can I do? I guess I''ll just explore the academy for now."


    With no particular destination in mind, I wander through the grand halls of the academy, taking in its sheer size and atmosphere. The place is alive with activity¡ªstudents moving between classes, chatting in small groups, or practicing spells right in the corridors.


    The first place I come across is the canteen, a massive dining hall filled with long wooden tables. The scent of freshly baked bread, roasted meat, and rich stews fills the air, making my stomach rumble. Students are gathered in clusters, some laughing, others engaged in quiet discussions. A separate section seems to be dedicated to nobles, their pristine uniforms standing out from the rest. The moment I step in, a few curious eyes flicker in my direction, but I ignore them and move on.


    Next, I pass by several classrooms, peeking inside whenever a door is slightly open. Some rooms are filled with students sitting at desks, listening intently to their instructors as they explain magical theory or combat strategies. In one, a professor levitates an orb of water mid-air, explaining its properties to wide-eyed students. In another, a heavily armored instructor demonstrates sword techniques to a group of aspiring knights, their blades clashing with sharp metallic rings.


    Eventually, I make my way outside to the training fields, an open expanse where students engage in duels. Here, physical combatants test their skills in one-on-one matches, their movements precise and disciplined. Swords clash, spears twirl, and shields slam against each other in controlled battles. Some students are drenched in sweat, panting heavily after an intense sparring session, while others stand on the sidelines, observing and analyzing techniques.


    But what truly catches my interest is a separate area¡ªan arena where magic users train. Unlike the standard dueling fields, this place is enclosed by large stone walls, runes etched into their surfaces. The ground is a smooth, reinforced platform, likely enchanted to withstand powerful spells.


    Inside, students wielding staffs, wands, and even their bare hands channel magic into reality. Fireballs soar through the air, crackling with heat before being extinguished by swift water-based counters. Lightning arcs across the battlefield, striking summoned barriers that shimmer upon impact. Some students hover above the ground, carried by wind magic, while others teleport short distances, blinking from one side of the arena to another in rapid succession.


    I stop at the entrance, watching the spectacle unfold. This¡­ is a whole different world from the duels I¡¯m used to.


    And if I ever have to fight against a mage¡­ I need to learn how to deal with this.


    I head toward the benches, scanning for an open seat. The arena is packed with students¡ªsome watching intently, others chatting amongst themselves, either discussing strategies or gossiping about the duelists in the ring.


    I finally spot an empty spot near the edge and make my way over, slipping into the seat. From here, I get a clear view of the ongoing matches.


    A duel is already in progress¡ªtwo students standing at opposite ends of the arena, their robes swaying as they exchange spells. One of them, a tall guy with sharp eyes, raises his hand and conjures a volley of ice shards, sending them hurling toward his opponent. The other, a girl with short silver hair, counters with a sweeping motion, summoning a gust of wind that scatters the projectiles mid-air.


    The fight doesn¡¯t stop there. The silver-haired girl wastes no time, dashing forward while forming a series of magic circles beneath her feet. With each step, her speed increases, and within moments, she¡¯s right in front of her opponent. Before he can react, she thrusts her palm outward, releasing a concussive burst of wind that sends him skidding back across the arena.


    The crowd murmurs in excitement, clearly impressed. I lean forward slightly, observing the way they fight. Magic isn¡¯t just about casting powerful spells¡ªit¡¯s about control, timing, and adaptability. The girl isn¡¯t just spamming attacks; she¡¯s reading her opponent, countering his moves before he can gain the upper hand.


    If I had mana¡­ could I fight like that too?


    I shake the thought away. Wishing won¡¯t change the fact that I don¡¯t have magic. But watching these fights, analyzing their movements¡­ maybe I can still learn something from them.


    I look around the arena, my gaze drifting past the dueling students until I notice someone off to the side, standing alone. He¡¯s deep in concentration, muttering under his breath, hands trembling slightly as he weaves together a long, drawn-out chant.


    Could it be a massive spell?


    Curious, I decide to wait, watching closely as he continues his incantation. Seconds pass. Then a minute. His voice grows more intense, sweat forming on his brow. The air around him hums faintly with mana, and I brace myself for something incredible.


    Finally, a faint shimmer of light gathers in his palm, building up to¡ª


    A tiny flame.


    Just a small flicker of fire, barely the size of a candle¡¯s flame, sways gently in his outstretched hand.


    ...Eh?


    I blink, trying to process what I just witnessed. After all that chanting, all that effort¡­ this was it? I glance around, wondering if anyone else saw, but most of the students are too absorbed in their own training.


    The student, however, looks at his tiny fireball with sheer triumph, pumping his fist. ¡°Yes! I finally did it!¡±


    I don¡¯t know whether to be impressed by his determination or secondhand embarrassed by how underwhelming that was.


    Wait¡­ what am I even saying? Even I can¡¯t do that.


    I let out a sigh, shaking my head at my own thoughts. Pushing myself up from the bench, I decided to leave.


    But just as I took a step forward, I felt it¡ªa sudden wave of heat rushing toward me. Instinct took over, and I dodged just in time. A fireball shot past, grazing the air right in front of me before slamming into the ground.


    BOOM!


    The explosion wasn¡¯t massive, but it sent embers scattering, the impact leaving a black scorch mark on the arena floor.


    "Oops, sorry, demon hunter," a smug voice called out. Laughter followed, not just from him but from the others standing nearby.


    Before I could react, another fireball came hurtling toward me. Then another.


    I clenched my fists but stayed still, letting the spells fizzle out harmlessly at a distance. Not worth it, I told myself. I had no intention of making a scene, not on my first day.


    At least¡­ that¡¯s what I wanted to do.


    "Can¡¯t believe you actually defeated an Archdemon," one of them sneered. "With that skinny build of yours, maybe even I could take one down." More laughter erupted, a mix of mockery and arrogance.


    I exhaled sharply, turning away. I could just walk off. I didn¡¯t need to¡ª


    "Hey!"


    A voice cut through the jeering, and I turned to see the same guy from earlier¡ªthe one who had struggled to cast a simple flame. He was now standing at my right, arms crossed, a deep frown on his face.


    "You shouldn¡¯t be bullying him like that!" he snapped. "You¡¯re breaking Rule 13 of Article 1¡ªNo bullying on campus!"


    For a moment, there was silence.


    Then, someone chuckled. "Oh, look, the weakling¡¯s trying to be a hero."


    I blinked, glancing at the guy. He looked nervous, like he hadn¡¯t planned this far ahead¡ªbut he still stood firm.


    I sighed again. This just got annoying.


    I grab his shoulder, lowering my voice. "Just let it go," I whisper, hoping to keep him from making things worse.


    But he doesn''t.


    "I can''t!" he shouts, his voice raw with emotion. Then, quieter¡ªjust loud enough for me to hear¡ªhe murmurs, "I can''t... let anyone else experience what I do¡­"


    Something inside me snaps.


    Maybe it¡¯s because I know exactly what he means. Maybe it¡¯s because I, too, had been a victim before. Maybe it¡¯s the anger I never got to release back then, the helplessness I buried deep inside. But right now, that anger refuses to stay buried.


    I realize too late that my grip on his shoulder has tightened. He winces slightly, and I immediately let go, pushing him gently aside as I turn to face the group that had been mocking me.


    "You want to find out if I really defeated an Archdemon?" I say, my voice low but laced with barely restrained fury.


    I take a step forward, locking eyes with each of them. "Then let¡¯s figh¡ª" I stop, correcting myself. "No. Let¡¯s duel. All of you against me. Right now."


    The laughter that had filled the arena moments ago dies out. The students watching hold their breath, sensing the shift in the air.


    The group of mages exchange glances, some smirking, others hesitating.


    One of them scoffs. "Tch. You think you can take on all of us?"


    I tighten my fists. "Try me."

 Chapter 19: Talent or Skill Eater?

    "All of us against you?" one of them says mockingly, a smirk plastered on his face.


    "Then so be it," he continues, cracking his knuckles. "Just remember¡ªyou asked for this!"


    The group raises their hands in unison, their voices intertwining as they begin chanting. Sparks of mana flicker around them, the air crackling with the beginnings of their spells.


    Too slow.


    I don''t give them the chance to finish.


    In an instant, I explode forward, my feet barely touching the ground as I close the distance. My nameless sword flashes from its sheath, but I don¡¯t need the blade¡ªjust the weight of it. I slam the pommel into the gut of the first mage, knocking the wind out of him. He crumples, wheezing.


    The one to my left flinches, but he¡¯s too late. I pivot, driving a kick straight into his chest with full force. The impact sends him hurtling backward like a ragdoll, crashing into the stone wall behind him. A loud crack echoes through the arena as debris scatters across the floor.


    The last mage, the one still chanting, freezes. His spell fizzles out before it can even take form. He stares at me, wide-eyed, realization dawning in his panicked expression.


    Then, without a word, he turns on his heel and runs.


    <h6>ChatGPT said:</h6>


    <div>


    I point my blade at the guy sprawled on the ground, its edge hovering just inches from his chest. He clutches his stomach, still struggling to catch his breath after my strike.


    He looks up at me, his earlier arrogance nowhere to be found. His lips tremble before he finally forces out the words.


    "We concede..."


    The air around us is thick with tension, the remaining students in the arena watching in stunned silence. The other one lie motionless¡ªone groaning in pain, still buried in the debris from my kick.


    I take a slow breath, my grip on the sword tightening for a brief moment before I lower it.


    "Tch," I click my tongue, stepping back. "Next time, don¡¯t start fights you can¡¯t finish."


    I sheathe my sword and turn away. The onlookers whisper among themselves, some in shock, others in excitement.


    I ignore them.


    This wasn¡¯t about showing off.


    It was about proving a point.


    I step away from the defeated trio, my mind still clouded with frustration. I didn¡¯t plan to make a scene, but they forced my hand.


    The whispers around me grow louder. Some students look at me with awe, others with wariness. I can already hear murmurs spreading¡ªrumors about the demon hunter who took down multiple opponents in seconds.


    Great. More attention.


    The guy who stood up for me earlier hesitates before stepping forward. His fists remain clenched at his sides, his face still holding traces of anger from before.


    ¡°That was¡­ incredible,¡± he says, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and disbelief. ¡°You shut them down before they even had a chance.¡±


    I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to put on a show.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± he nods. ¡°But still¡­ thanks.¡±


    I raise a brow. ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°For proving they¡¯re not as untouchable as they think they are.¡±


    I study his expression for a moment. There¡¯s something familiar in his eyes¡ªsomething I know all too well.


    Resentment.


    Not towards me, but towards people like them.


    I exhale. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡ªright.¡± He straightens up, looking slightly embarrassed. ¡°It¡¯s Owen. Owen Graves.¡±


    ¡°Well, Owen,¡± I say, turning to leave. ¡°Try not to get yourself in trouble, yeah?¡±


    Owen grins. ¡°No promises.¡±


    I pause and glance back at him. "And if they ever mess with you again, don¡¯t hesitate to call my name."


    As I step out of the arena, I catch one last glimpse of the sky through the open ceiling. The clouds have thickened again, swallowing the last traces of sunlight that peeked through.


    I have a feeling this won¡¯t be the last time trouble finds me.


    And next time, I might not have the luxury of holding back.


    ...


    I forgot how fast rumors spread. As I made my way back to my dorm, all I could hear were whispers about the duel. Some exaggerated it, saying I took down ten mages at once. Others scoffed, calling it a fluke. Either way, my name was on everyone''s lips.


    Great. Just what I needed¡ªmore attention.


    I reached my dorm, shutting the door behind me with a sigh. Stripping off my uniform, I changed into something more comfortable before collapsing onto my bed.


    Today had been exhausting. First, the awkward stares, then the fireball incident, and now this.


    I closed my eyes, letting the fatigue finally take over.


    Whatever happens tomorrow¡­ that¡¯s a problem for future me.


    ...


    Time blurred into a relentless cycle of lectures, training, and late-night study sessions. Each day at the academy tested me in different ways, yet nothing ever felt truly difficult. While my classmates struggled to grasp new concepts, I picked them up with ease.


    Professor Lillian Mayfield¡¯s history lessons were long and tedious, but I absorbed every word. The Great Divide¡ªa rift that tore the world apart¡ªhad appeared overnight. No warning, no explanation. It severed lands, shattered alliances, and forced humans and demons into endless war. Some believed it was divine punishment, others claimed it was the result of a failed experiment from a lost civilization. Whatever the truth, it had changed everything.


    Combat training with Professor Garret Stein was where I thrived. While others fumbled through stances and struggled to land their strikes, I moved like I had been doing this my whole life. Footwork, grappling, counters¡ªI picked up techniques faster than anyone else. Professor Stein noticed, of course. He pushed me harder than the others, testing my endurance, but I never faltered. If anything, I welcomed the challenge.


    Arcane studies with Professor Susan Giles were¡­ frustrating. I had no mana, no way to cast spells, no ability to manipulate magic like my classmates. But I still memorized every incantation, traced every rune, and studied every principle. Even without magic, I could understand its structure. And if there was a way to bridge that gap, I intended to find it.


    Alchemy under Professor Adrian Zimmerman was a chaotic mess of bubbling vials, unexpected explosions, and strange-smelling fumes. It was easy to get lost in the madness, but I learned to navigate through it. I could identify potions at a glance, predict their effects, and even see how some mixtures could be weaponized. Zimmerman, despite always being distracted, was brilliant. His hands were constantly stained with ink and potion residue, but his knowledge was invaluable.


    Healing lessons with Professor Kara Snow were¡­ not my strong suit. I wasn¡¯t the type to focus on mending wounds, but I understood its importance. She spoke with warmth, emphasizing that healing wasn¡¯t just about fixing injuries¡ªit was about resilience, survival, and knowing your limits. I doubted I¡¯d ever be a healer, but I paid attention. Knowing how to recover quickly could mean the difference between life and death.


    Weeks passed, and the academy no longer felt unfamiliar. I had surpassed my classmates, not just in combat but in nearly every subject. I should have felt satisfied.


    But peace never lasted long for me.


    At first, it was just whispers. Then stares. By noon, I could feel the tension in the air.


    Something was happening.


    And it wasn¡¯t long before trouble came knocking.


    I felt it before I saw it. A presence¡ªno, several¡ªlurking at the edges of the courtyard.


    As I stepped outside, I saw them.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The three guys I had humiliated in the duel stood at the center of a growing crowd. But they weren¡¯t alone. They had brought reinforcements. A lot of them.


    A towering man, easily over six feet tall, stood with his arms crossed, his bulk making him look like a walking fortress. He wasn¡¯t a student¡ªnone of them were. Their armor, the way they carried themselves¡­ mercenaries.


    Twenty of them.


    The students who had gathered whispered among themselves, watching the scene unfold like spectators at an arena.


    I sighed, rubbing my temple. "Seriously?"


    One of the guys I had fought before stepped forward, a smug grin on his face. "You embarrassed us, Demon Hunter. And we can¡¯t let that slide."


    The big guy cracked his knuckles. "So we brought some friends."


    I stared at them for a moment, my mind already running through possibilities. I could take them all on. That wasn¡¯t even a question. But¡­


    A small part of me wanted to play with them first.


    I let out a slow breath and lowered my stance slightly, just enough to make it look like I was uncertain. Then, in a carefully measured voice, I said, "Alright. I¡¯ll fight. But only if all of you come at me at once."


    A ripple of amusement passed through the mercenaries. Some chuckled. Others shook their heads, amused by what they thought was arrogance.


    "That¡¯s a bold challenge, kid," the big guy said. "You sure about that?"


    I forced a hesitant smirk, playing my part. "I mean, you wouldn¡¯t want it to be unfair, right?"


    More laughter. Some students in the crowd muttered among themselves.


    "Alright, then," the leader said, rolling his shoulders. "Let¡¯s see if you¡¯re all talk."


    The moment the first mercenary lunged at me, I pretended to stumble, barely dodging the strike. I made my movements clumsy, sluggish¡ªjust enough to make it seem like I was struggling.


    The second one charged in, and I let him graze me, rolling with the impact as I crashed onto the ground. A murmur passed through the crowd.


    I heard one of the students whisper, "Maybe he really is all talk..."


    Perfect.


    I staggered to my feet, wiping my mouth as if I had taken serious damage. Then, with a sharp exhale, I straightened my posture.


    And I smiled.


    A slow, sharp grin.


    The kind that sent a chill down the spine.


    "Heh¡­" I chuckled, rolling my shoulders. "You thought I was that weak?"


    I shifted my stance, my body no longer sluggish, my posture precise, refined. The air around me grew heavier.


    The realization hit them too late.


    I was toying with them.


    The moment my foot touched the ground, I exploded forward.


    The first mercenary barely had time to react before I drove my knee into his gut. The impact sent him flying backward, crashing into two others.


    The second tried to draw his sword¡ªI was already there. A swift strike with the blunt side of my nameless sword sent him sprawling.


    Another came from behind. I caught his wrist mid-swing, twisting it as I yanked him off balance before slamming him into the dirt.


    Panic set in.


    The mercenaries rushed me all at once, but it didn¡¯t matter. I weaved through their attacks, my movements now effortless. The crowd gasped as one by one, the hired thugs fell.


    Some tried to run. I let them.


    Others hesitated, realizing that the fight had never been fair.


    Because they were never a match for me to begin with.


    The big guy, the leader, was the last one standing. He took a cautious step back, sweat beading on his forehead.


    I tilted my head. "Not gonna run?"


    His fists clenched. He was scared. But he had pride.


    "Come on, then," I said, raising my sword. "Let¡¯s finish this."


    The big guy exhaled sharply, his stance shifting as he braced himself. He knew he couldn''t run¡ªnot after all that bravado. The students were still watching, whispering among themselves. If he backed down now, his reputation would be as good as dead.


    Good.


    I lowered my sword slightly, letting my body relax just enough to make it look like I was open. It was bait. If he was as desperate as I thought he was, he''d take it.


    And he did.


    With a roar, he lunged, throwing a massive, earth-shaking punch. The kind that could shatter bones if it landed.


    I sidestepped at the last second. His fist crashed into the ground, sending dust and debris flying. He barely had time to process his miss before I struck.


    A single, precise slash.


    Not with the blade¡ªjust the flat of my sword against his ribs.


    The impact sent him skidding backward, his feet digging into the dirt. He coughed, clutching his side, eyes wide with disbelief.


    "You¡¯re strong," I admitted. "But strength alone isn¡¯t enough."


    I stepped forward, watching as he struggled to stay upright.


    "You guys wanted to see if I really took down an Archdemon," I continued. "And now you have your answer."


    Silence hung heavy in the air. The mercenaries who could still move scrambled to retreat, dragging their unconscious allies with them. The crowd of students remained still, their expressions a mix of awe, fear, and newfound respect.


    I turned away, letting my sword rest on my shoulder.


    "Listen up," I said, my voice carrying across the arena. "We¡¯re done here. If any of you have a problem with me, don¡¯t bother bringing an army next time. Just come to me directly."


    No one responded.


    The big guy let out a shaky breath before dropping to one knee. "I¡­ concede."


    I nodded. "Good."


    With that, I walked off, my footsteps echoing through the now-silent courtyard.


    I had made my point.


    And now, the academy knew exactly what kind of person I was.


    Then suddenly, a slow, deliberate clap echoed through the courtyard. The sound cut through the stunned silence like a knife, drawing every eye toward its source.


    I turned my head, and there they stood.


    The student council.


    Their uniforms set them apart from the rest¡ªdark navy coats adorned with silver embroidery, polished insignias gleaming under the afternoon sun. They carried themselves with a presence that immediately shifted the atmosphere. The once-rowdy students straightened, whispers growing hushed.


    At the front, the one clapping was a tall young man with striking red hair, sharp and unkempt, like a flame refusing to be tamed. His golden eyes burned with amusement as he studied me, his spear resting casually against his shoulder. The weapon was sleek yet deadly, its edge gleaming with a faint enchantment.


    ¡°Well, well,¡± he drawled, a smirk playing on his lips. ¡°That was quite the performance. Taking on a small army and still walking away like it was nothing? I have to admit, I¡¯m impressed.¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond right away. My grip on my sword tightened slightly. Something about him¡ªabout all of them¡ªfelt different from the others I had fought today.


    Behind him stood three more figures, each exuding an air of authority.


    To his right was a tall, elegant girl with long silver hair cascading down her back. She carried a staff adorned with intricate runes, her icy blue eyes scanning me with quiet curiosity. She looked composed, like nothing in this world could faze her.


    Beside her, a broad-shouldered young man with short-cropped black hair and a scar running down his jawline crossed his arms. His uniform looked slightly more worn than the others, and the massive greatsword strapped to his back made it clear¡ªhe was a warrior through and through.


    And then there was the smallest of the group, a short girl with fox-like amber eyes and twin daggers strapped to her belt. Unlike the others, she had an easy grin on her face, twirling one of her daggers between her fingers as if this was all just a game to her.


    The red-haired guy stopped clapping and tilted his head.


    ¡°Where are my manners?¡± he said, his tone still laced with amusement. ¡°Name¡¯s Reinhardt Vale. Student Council President.¡± He tapped his spear against the ground lightly. ¡°And these fine individuals behind me? They¡¯re the best of the best here at Aurewyn Grand Academy. My Vice President, Seri Aldridge.¡± He gestured to the silver-haired girl, who nodded slightly in acknowledgment. ¡°Our Combat Commander, Darius Holt.¡± The scarred swordsman simply grunted. ¡°And our Intelligence Officer, Lyra Vex.¡± The dagger-wielding girl gave a playful wink.


    I let my sword lower but didn¡¯t let my guard down.


    Student council, huh? This wasn¡¯t just some group of privileged nobles flaunting their power. These guys¡­ they were strong.


    Reinhardt took a step forward. ¡°We¡¯ve been keeping an eye on you, Eli.¡± His smirk deepened. ¡°And I think it¡¯s about time we had a proper chat.¡±


    "Talk?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.


    Reinhardt grinned, twirling his spear effortlessly before resting it against his shoulder again. "Yeah. Talk."


    I glanced at the others behind him. Seri remained unreadable, her icy blue gaze studying me like I was some puzzle she was piecing together. Darius, the swordsman, simply stood with his arms crossed, looking as if he had better things to do. Lyra, the shortest of them, was still twirling her dagger, her fox-like grin making it hard to tell if she was amused or just waiting for an excuse to stab someone.


    Something about this whole situation put me on edge. These weren¡¯t just some upperclassmen throwing their weight around¡ªthey felt different. Their presence alone carried weight.


    I adjusted my grip on my sword, not raising it but not putting it away either. "Alright, then," I said, keeping my voice even. "Talk."


    Reinhardt chuckled. "Relax, we¡¯re not here to start a fight¡ªat least, not yet." His golden eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "We just wanted to see for ourselves what kind of guy the so-called Demon Hunter really is."


    I exhaled sharply. That title again.


    "You sure have a way of making an entrance," I said, glancing at the small crater left behind from my fight with the mercenaries. "What, did you think I was gonna wipe out half the academy or something?"


    Seri finally spoke, her voice cool and measured. "We¡¯re here because we decide who disrupts the academy¡¯s balance¡ªnot some new student who just happened to beat a few second-rate mercenaries."


    I scoffed. "Balance? I didn¡¯t realize the student council was so concerned about schoolyard brawls."


    Darius shifted slightly, his voice calm but firm. "It¡¯s not the fight that concerns us. It¡¯s you."


    I raised an eyebrow. "Me?"


    Reinhardt nodded, his smirk never fading. "You¡¯re an unknown, Eli. You show up out of nowhere, take down an Archdemon, and now you¡¯re making a spectacle of yourself. That makes people curious." He leaned forward slightly. "And curiosity? That can be dangerous."


    I met his gaze, unflinching. "So, what? You¡¯re here to warn me?"


    Lyra finally let out a short laugh. "No, dummy. We¡¯re here to see if you¡¯re worth keeping an eye on."


    I felt a chill in the air¡ªnot from the wind, but from the sheer presence of the student council.


    This wasn¡¯t just some casual conversation.


    This was a test.


    He raised his hands in a mock gesture of peace. "Listen, one way or another, we¡¯ll find out." His grin didn¡¯t waver. "After all, we¡¯re all teammates in X-Day."


    I frowned. "X-Day?"


    Before I could even ask what that meant, he cut me off with a chuckle. "Yeah, yeah, I know¡ªyou don¡¯t have a clue what that is, so let me break it down for you." He took a step forward, casually resting his spear against his shoulder. "Two weeks from now, the best of the best in the academy will travel to the empire to fight in a tournament."


    A tournament? That was new.


    Reinhardt¡¯s smirk widened at my reaction. "The X-Day Tournament is a showcase of strength, skill, and strategy. Every major academy sends their strongest students to compete¡ªnot just for glory, but for recognition. The winners earn a direct audience with the royal family, sponsorships, and even recruitment offers from high-ranking officials."


    Seri crossed her arms. "In other words, it¡¯s not just about winning. It¡¯s about proving you belong among the elite."


    Darius finally spoke, his voice calm and unwavering. "And like it or not, you¡¯re on the team."


    I blinked. "I didn¡¯t sign up for this."


    Reinhardt laughed. "Doesn¡¯t matter. The faculty already made their decision. You don¡¯t turn down an invitation to X-Day, Eli. That¡¯s just how it works."


    I exhaled sharply, glancing at the group in front of me. A tournament, an empire, and now I was being thrown into it without even a say? Just my luck.


    Lyra tilted her head, still twirling her dagger. "Better start training, Demon Hunter. You don¡¯t wanna embarrass us out there, do you?"


    I clenched my jaw, weighing my options. It wasn¡¯t like I had much of a choice.


    "Fine," I muttered. "I¡¯ll do it."


    Reinhardt¡¯s grin sharpened. "Good. Then let¡¯s see if you¡¯re as strong as the rumors say."


    I turned around and left, my mind racing with anticipation. X-Day? Finally, a tournament. I had been waiting for something like this. A real test. A chance to face opponents who could actually challenge me.


    How many strong fighters would I meet? How many would push me to my limits? Just the thought of it sent a thrill through my veins.


    But before I got ahead of myself, I knew one thing¡ªI had to train. Not in flashy techniques or advanced combat styles. No, what I lacked was the basics. The solid foundation that separated true warriors from reckless brawlers.


    I tightened my grip on my sword and exhaled.


    "Time to get to work."