“Looks like my guess was right about your weakness,” the demon lord sneers, his voice dripping with contempt. “Do you think I want to conquer the world? Hahaha! I’m not like the old demon lords. What I want is to conquer the heavens! Those gods… they’ve never helped us. They favor all other species but have forsaken us demons. They don’t deserve to rule over us.”
“Well, I don’t care,” I reply, my tone flat and uninterested.
The demon lord narrows his glowing eyes at me. “I will erase humans, the favorites of those gods. And since you’re half-human, I’ll take my time killing you today.”
I sigh inwardly, thinking, Another madman with a grudge against the world. Figures.
He continues, his tone almost playful. “Here’s a deal. If you win, I’ll spare any being related to you. If you lose, I’ll kill them in front of you before finishing you off.”
“Oh, that doesn’t sound so bad,” I reply nonchalantly, shrugging as if we’re discussing dinner plans.
The demon lord falters, his confidence cracking with confusion. “Huh? Aren’t you going to yell in anger? Curse me? Threaten to kill me?”
“Why would I? The deal doesn’t sound bad to me,” I say, my voice calm, almost bored.
“But aren’t you one of the Heroes of Humans?” he asks, his confusion deepening.
I smirk faintly. “No. I’m just a wanderer. Warzheil is my friend, so I’m helping him retrieve his belongings. That’s it.”
The demon lord’s face twists into a scowl. “Unbelievable. Since you’re unlucky enough to encounter me, I might as well show you why we demon lords are feared above all else.”
With a guttural growl, his body begins to shift, his form growing more monstrous and grotesquely beautiful. His demonic aura intensifies, swirling like a storm around him.
“Cool,” I blurt out before I can stop myself, genuinely impressed.
The demon lord smirks, clearly pleased by my reaction. “Oh, so you know how to appreciate beauty? Consider yourself honored—I deem you worthy of facing this form of mine. Let’s get this fight underway.”
He slams his massive blade into the ground, spreading his arms wide. Without a single incantation, hundreds of stone bullets materialize around him, spinning at high speed. They launch toward me in a relentless barrage.
Instinct kicks in, and I spin my spear in a defensive arc, deflecting the stone projectiles. But the relentless force of the bullets starts to crack my reinforced titanium spear.
“I must admit, human, I’m utterly impressed,” the demon lord says, admiration lacing his tone. “Never have I seen a being wield a staff with such skill and speed.”
He thinks I’m using a staff. A plan begins to form in my mind.
Fueled by his misconception, I charge forward, feinting low before thrusting the tip of my spear into his chest. With a flick of my wrist, I activate the plasma blade hidden within. The demon lord recoils in shock as the blade carves a molten path across his torso.
But my triumph is short-lived. He grabs me by the neck with crushing force, lifting me off the ground. His clawed hand tightens as he drives his blade into my abdomen.
“Not bad, human,” he says, his voice cold and cruel. “A being as strong as you doesn’t belong with humans. Join me, and I will treat you well. Or else…”
My vision blurs as pain radiates through my body. He drags me toward the edge of the river, his grip unyielding. My breath falters, and I feel the edges of consciousness slipping away.
Then, like a distant echo, my grandfather’s voice cuts through the haze.
“Shar… Shar! Always remember, one’s body can be the deadliest weapon or the weakest sapling. Turn your hands into your weapons.”
The memory surges through me—a younger me practicing until my hands bled, trying to make sense of his cryptic advice.
“My… hands?” I whisper hoarsely, hope sparking in the darkness.
I open my eyes and see the demon lord’s smug expression. Without hesitation, I channel all my strength into my left arm, transforming it into a blade. The sudden shift catches him off guard as I slice through his jaw and skull in one fluid motion.
His grip loosens, and I fall into the river below, the icy water rushing over me. Warzheil’s voice echoes faintly in the distance, but exhaustion claims me.
When I wake, I’m lying in a bed, the gentle rocking of a ship beneath me. My abdomen throbs, though I see Warzheil’s handiwork in the makeshift bandages securing the wound. My suit remains intact. Nearby, the demon lord’s blade rests against the wall, its sinister glow subdued.
I sit up slowly, picking up the blade as I shuffle to the deck. Warzheil appears, emerging from the staircase leading to the captain’s quarters.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” he says, relief evident in his voice. “Perfect timing. We need to abandon ship. I’ve taken everything, so let’s jump off before we hit the Stream’s meeting point. There’s a cyclone forming.”
I glance toward the river’s chaotic currents and see the swirling vortex in the distance. My stomach churns at the thought.
“Hey, old man, get away from the edge! That’s dangerous!” I shout, panic creeping into my voice.
Warzheil grins. “Idiot, this ship can’t stop in currents like these. We jump, or we die.” Without another word, he leaps into the river.
I take a deep breath, muttering, “I hate this,” before following suit.
We land on the shore, dripping wet but alive. Warzheil hands me the demon lord’s blade, examining it closely.
“This is the Ramoon Blade,” he explains, his voice awed. “An enchanted weapon blessed by the moon god thousands of years ago. It’s proof of your victory and that you avoided the Curse of Weakness.”
I run a finger along the blade’s edge, marveling at its craftsmanship. When I test it, it cuts my skin effortlessly, but this time, the wound heals almost instantly.
“That’s new,” I mutter, puzzled.
Warzheil peers closer at my left eye. “There’s something different about your eye. Take a look.”
He hands me a small mirror, and I notice the red circle of my left eye now contains intricate characters.
“These markings… they’re similar to those on the ancient tablets of Om’s statue,” Warzheil says, intrigued.
“Maybe it’s connected to the immunity?” I suggest, though I’m unsure.
Warzheil shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine. Oh, look, a Baverian! Must be Kade!”
The distant cry of a strange bird breaks through the sounds of the rushing river. Warzheil’s face lights up as he looks to the sky.
“Ah, finally!” he exclaims, pointing toward a bird-like creature soaring toward us.
The creature, a Baverian, lands gracefully on his outstretched hand. Its feathers shimmer in the sunlight, and its large, intelligent eyes seem to study us.
“Warzheil! It’s been two years,” the bird says, its voice oddly harmonious, almost musical.
“Yes, Kade. Get us a Greizer Horse. We are two, and one of us is injured,” Warzheil replies, his tone brisk.
The bird tilts its head. “Okay, wait for us. We’re out hunting with Gloria and heading back to the village anyway. There’s a lot we need to catch up on.”
As the Baverian prepares to take off, Warzheil suddenly speaks in a low, serious tone. “And yeah, prepare for the God’s descent.”
The bird freezes mid-motion, its gaze snapping back to Warzheil. “What? No way. That wasn’t just a story Drax made up?”
“I have the avatar with me,” Warzheil says, gesturing toward me. “Send your Baverian to Sil to make arrangements. And make sure no one else knows about this, especially not Gloria.”
The bird gives a low whistle before taking off into the sky, its wings slicing through the air like blades.
I watch it disappear, turning back to Warzheil with wide eyes. “What was that?”
“That was a Baverian,” Warzheil says, brushing his hands off as if it’s no big deal. “A creature said to have been created by Goddess Globe. They can’t speak on their own, but Kade has a blessing that allows him to communicate with any creature and use them to deliver messages via sound magic. It wasn’t the Baverian talking; the mana in the air was converted to sound.”
I blink, trying to process the explanation. “That’s so complex. Honestly, I wish I could use some magic.”
Warzheil chuckles, patting my shoulder. “Hey, there are plenty of things even the mana-less can do. For instance, you could become an Enchanter. An enchanter uses blood, mana stones, and other ingredients to create specific effects by drawing intricate patterns on weapons. Or, you could become a Titled Blacksmith. Most blacksmiths are ordinary, but a Titled Blacksmith has a unique specialty that gives their weapons a natural ability to gather mana and mimic their creator’s magic. It’s rare but powerful.”
My interest is piqued. “Could you teach me both? I was planning to rest for a few days before tackling that contract mission I’ve been given.”
Warzheil smirks. “I can teach you Enchanting, but for blacksmithing, you’d need to discover your unique talent first. Only a rare few have the potential to become Titled Blacksmiths. For me, it’s my ability to summon natural lightning. Throughout history, there’ve only been about 3,000 like me. The rarer your magic, the higher your chances.”
Nodding, I glance at the Ramoon sword. The symbol from my left eye etches itself onto the blade, and it begins to emit a faint red glow. Warzheil’s eyes widen in alarm as he snatches it from me.
“Idiot!” he exclaims. “You’ve ruined the weapon. It’s useless now! Even the enchantments are gone!” He shoves the blade back into my hands, his expression exasperated.
I shrug. “Guess you’ll have to teach me Enchanting sooner rather than later.”
Warzheil sighs, rubbing his temples. “Fine. But I can’t guarantee your blood will even work for it.”
As we wait for Kade and his hunting party, Warzheil pulls out a pink eyepatch and hands it to me. “Here, wear this. It’ll cover your eye until we figure out more about it.”
“Pink?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s all I had,” he replies with a grin.
When Kade arrives with his party, the atmosphere shifts. The Baverians circle overhead, their movements graceful yet purposeful. A tall figure dismounts a Greizer Horse, his expression shifting from cheerful to grim as Warzheil briefs him on Drax’s death.
“You must be kidding,” Kade says, his voice low with disbelief. “We’re talking about Drax—the Dragon God who’s lived for over a hundred thousand years. You expect me to believe he’s dead?”
Warzheil’s face darkens, his sadness and anger palpable. “You think I’d joke about something like this, Kade? Do you think Drax’s death is a joke to me?”
Before the tension can escalate, I step between them, placing a hand on Warzheil’s shoulder. “The old Dwarf I know wouldn’t let emotions get the better of him. Calm down, old man.”
Warzheil exhales sharply, stepping back. Kade’s expression softens slightly, though his concern remains. “Oldzheil, we can deal with this news. But think about what you’ll tell Gloria. She might as well kill the Avatar if she finds out.”
A pang of guilt washes over me. None of this was my choice, but I know it doesn’t absolve me of the role I’ve been thrown into.
As we journey toward the village, Kade walks beside me. “What’s your name?” he asks.
“Call me Ronin.”
Kade nods thoughtfully. “I know I don’t have a say in this, but Drax had great hopes for you. I hope you prove him right in whatever he summoned you for.”
I stop walking, meeting his gaze. “If you think I’m some kind of slave summoned to take orders and live for someone else’s purpose, you’re wrong. I’ll live my way. But don’t worry—I’ll fulfill the task Drax summoned me for.”
Kade smiles faintly. “Call me whenever you need me.”
Warzheil chuckles behind us. “Hey, cut the kid some slack. He just kicked the demon lord’s butt a few hours ago.”
The hunting party gasps, their whispers filling the air.
“What? No way! He looks so young. How did he defeat the demon lord without being a hero?”
Warzheil grins. “Yeah, he did. But there are things we can’t discuss here. Let’s wait until we reach Sil.”
I smirk. “I may look young, but I’m 42.”
The group stares at me, their faces a mixture of disbelief and awe. “What the hell? You look like you’re in your 20s!”
As the village comes into view, a sense of anticipation fills me. For the first time since I arrived in this world, I feel like I might finally find a place to belong.
94Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQw7VTeO3kn
