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Author: Renegade

  • A doomsday-level returnee devours calamities Chapter 11

    It’s been twenty years since I was dragged into this cursed dimensional shift and brought to this world.

    I survived purely on the determination to return home, trudging through each day. But despite my efforts, I couldn’t find even the faintest clue on how to go back.

    Why did I have to go through this?

    Out of all the people in the world, why me?

    I had no answers.

    So, I cursed and prayed to every god I knew, day after day. Like a madman, I threw hash words steeped in hatred, then broke down in tears, pleading to be sent back home.

    But nothing changed.

    My life was consumed by rage and hatred.

    I wandered the world like a vengeful ghost, my hands stained with the blood of countless beings.

    Then, I found a sliver of hope.

    There was a rumor about a beast from ancient times sealed atop the highest mountain in this world. Even if it was just a story fabricated by some bored gossip, it didn’t matter.

    As long as there was even a shred of possibility, it gave me the strength to face another day.

    [So, a bold human has come to me.]

    The voice boomed like a thunderclap, shattering my eardrums. Despite knowing it was bound and unable to move, my body trembled uncontrollably just from standing before it.

    [Have you come all this way to ask for something so trivial?]

    The Primordial Wolf, a being from this world’s mythology.

    A creature that was once a mere beast but grew continuously through its innate hunger, ultimately devouring even the sun itself, according to the legends.

    “Yes, that’s right. I am not of this world. For decades, I’ve wandered in search of a way to return to the world I came from, without finding even the faintest clue. Then I heard a rumor of an exalted being imprisoned here, and so I came.”

    [Ah, so that’s why you smell so foreign. You’re a drifter. Is that why you yearn so desperately to return?]

    “Yes. Can you do it?”

    [Do it? Do you dare to ask such a question of me, a lowly insect?]

    Suddenly, pain exploded in my chest, and I collapsed to the ground, letting out a strangled groan.

    “Gah…!”

    My face turned pale in an instant. I clawed at the ground, twisting and writhing, but no matter how hard I struggled, I couldn’t breathe.

    [Tsk, pathetic worm.]

    Finally, the pressure lifted, and I sucked in air, gasping desperately.

    “Hah… hah…”

    [If you want to return to your world alive, you should learn to watch your tongue. Do you think that just because I’m in this state, I can’t snuff out a little bug like you?]

    “…My apologies.”

    [To answer your question: yes, it is possible. But only if I were in my full form. That cowardly lot of gods tore my body apart and left me in this state. If it weren’t for them, such a feat would be simple. Do you understand what I’m saying?]

    The ancient myths spoke of how the gods, fearing the wolf’s power, tore it limb from limb and sealed it away.

    It was clear to me that this was no idle lamentation but a veiled suggestion.

    “If you can send me back, I’ll do whatever it takes. What must I do?”

    [At least you’re quick to catch on. I shall grant you my authority. With it, you will gather the fragments of my body scattered across the world. When my form is whole once more, I shall break free from this accursed prison and personally grant your wish.]

    “Understood.”

    From that day onward, I became the Apostle of the Primordial Wolf.

    It was a decision I would come to regret more than anything else in my life.

    “The Primordial Wolf…”

    I replayed the memories I had just recovered, as vivid as if I had just woken from a dream.

    This time, I was certain: these memories were from after I was swept up in the dimensional shift.

    My entire body buzzed with vitality, a feeling I hadn’t experienced before. Was this another side effect of regaining my memories?

    In those memories, I had conversed with a mysterious being known as the Primordial Wolf. Judging by the circumstances, it seemed I had become its servant, though I couldn’t recall what happened next.

    The memory cut off there.

    More pressing than that was the sudden return of these memories.

    What had triggered them?

    Reflecting on the recent events, I found the answer.

    “When I swallowed the crystal embedded in Dueokshin’s chest, the memories came flooding back.”

    It could only have been that.

    But what exactly was that crystal?

    I racked my brain for answers, but no clues emerged.

    If I had seen it from the start, that would be one thing—but it had only started bothering me partway through our conversation. Worse, my actions in taking it weren’t even conscious decisions; they felt like primal instincts.

    A sudden scream tore through my thoughts.

    “You filthy human! What have you done to me?”

    Only then did I truly process what I had done.

    “…It was a mistake.”

    “A mistake? You dare call that a mistake? What kind of trickery have you done?”

    A thought crossed my mind.

    “Can ghosts feel pain? I was under the impression you didn’t experience such things. Why, then, were you writhing in agony?”

    “…”

    The boy had no answer.

    Even he didn’t know why. All he knew was that the moment my hand touched his chest, an unbearable, searing pain coursed through his entire being.

    It was a pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

    For the first time in its existence, the malevolent ghost that fed on the fears of humans felt fear itself.

    And I knew it.

    “You… are afraid of me.”

    “H-How could you possibly…”

    “Ah, so this is what it feels like. This is how it’s done.”

    CRUNCH!

    A sickening sound echoed as the boy’s head was crushed into a bloody mess.

    “…!”

    Moments later, I coughed up a mass of dark red blood.

    “Cough!”

    Looking at the blood-stained hand, I mused.

    “The strain on my body is significant.”

    It had been an experiment. I hadn’t expected it to actually work.

    “I didn’t think it would… but it did.”

    Though I didn’t know why, ever since recovering that memory, I had gained access to a portion of Duokshin’s powers.

    I suspected it was related to my recovered memories, but I couldn’t be certain.

    One thing was clear: no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t wield those powers as freely as Duokshin himself.

    At least, I now had a new ability.

    “Interesting. I can see the manifested fear through my eyes.”

    I couldn’t crush heads as easily as Duokshin, but I could easily sense whether my opponent feared me.

    “How… how do you have that power…?”

    The boy’s head, crushed just moments ago, was now restored. Duokshin, born of fear, was nearly immortal.

    “I don’t know.”

    “You don’t know? Are you mocking me?”

    “If I wanted to mock you, what could you do about it?”

    At my cold stare, Duokshin flinched.

    “…”

    Once, he was a being so powerful he was called the King of Ghosts. But now, he was no more than a powerless spirit, stripped of his strength and skulking in fear.

    Taeseong spoke calmly.

    “I have no reason to mock you. I simply answered that I don’t know because I truly don’t.”

    The ghost spirit, left speechless, nodded slowly.

    Just as Taeseong thought the conversation was over and turned to leave, someone knocked on the door.
    Knock, knock.

    Before he could open it, the door swung open.

    Standing there was a woman whose unforgettable appearance left an indelible mark on anyone who saw her. She was known as the “White-Eyed Queen,” a Gamma-level administrator and the person responsible for testing Taeseong. She gazed at him intently.

    “Wolf.”

    Taeseong bowed his head silently. As a subordinate of the Tree, he owed her respect as his superior.

    He moved to pass her and leave the room, but paused briefly. He considered warning her about the peculiarities of the ghost’s abilities in case something went awry.

    However, he soon dismissed the thought.

    “She’s a Gamma-level administrator. She’ll handle it. She didn’t even seem fazed.”

    Hoping he wouldn’t hear the sound of a head being crushed, Taesung left the room.

    The next day, Taeseong was summoned to Harin’s office as soon as he arrived at work.

    Knock, knock.

    “This is Taeseong Lee. May I come in?”

    “Come in.”

    Opening the door, he saw Harin seated as usual, chain-smoking.

    “Take a seat wherever you’re comfortable.”

    Once Taeseong sat down, Harin asked,

    “Coffee? Tea?”

    “I’m fine, thank you.”

    Taking her last puff, Harin savored it before exhaling the smoke and sitting across from him. Crossing her legs, she regarded him carefully.

    “First, let me start by thanking you. Thanks to you, the unidentified entity ‘Head-Crushing Boy’ was contained without incident.”

    “That’s good to hear.”

    “And thanks to you identifying its true name, the entity has been officially renamed as ‘Dueokshin.’”

    “…”

    “Aren’t you curious about the classification it received? That thing, the anomaly that killed thirteen members of the search team in the abandoned hospital?”

    “Not particularly.”

    Harin clicked her tongue, muttering, “No fun,” before continuing.

    “Gamma level. My personal opinion is that it doesn’t quite deserve that classification since its method of neutralization is so clear. But the higher-ups apparently disagree. I assume they factored in the entity’s danger level and potential impact. It’s just a guess, though. What do I know about the minds of our esteemed executives? I’m just a grunt, after all. Gotta follow orders, right? Ugh.”

    “Maybe the strength and the level of threat aren’t the same thing,” Taeseong offered.

    If Dueokshin were to appear in the middle of a city, the massacre it would cause would be unimaginable. Anyone who felt even a shred of fear would have their head crushed.

    “Exactly. Now that the small talk’s out of the way, let’s get to the main point. Starting today, you’re being reassigned to the Management Team 4 as an administrator. You’re also being promoted from Epsilon to Delta. All of this comes directly from the higher-ups, so no objections will be entertained. Congratulations.”

    “When I first joined, I was placed in a search team. Why change me to the management team now?”

    Harin smirked, raising a brow in disbelief.

    “Were you not listening to a word I just said? The anomaly you captured is classified as a Gamma-level entity. On top of that, you’ve proven your capability as an administrator. Of course you’re getting promoted and reassigned—it’s only natural. You should feel proud. This is the fastest promotion in the history of the Tree. Celebrate it.”

    After a moment of thought, Taeseong asked seriously,

    “How much higher do I need to go?”

    “What?”

    “How much higher do I need to go to surpass you?”

    Harin looked flabbergasted.

    “You’re talking about me? Seriously?”

    “Yes.”

    Snorting in disbelief, Harin crossed her arms.

    “Wow. You’ve got big dreams. Just because I keep saying I’m a grunt, you think I’m easy to surpass? Let me set the record straight—I’m the youngest team leader in the Information Department. Youngest. Team. Leader. I’m even considered a strong candidate for the next department head. You think you can aim higher than me? You’d need to become an executive at the very least. Got it?”

    “An executive, then. Understood.”

    Harin stared at him, dumbfounded, before sighing.

    “Whatever. Talking to you is exhausting.”

    “Can I leave now?”

    “Not yet. There’s one more thing.”

    Lighting another cigarette, Harin took a long puff.

    Sssss…
    …Whooo.

    “We’ve found your sister.”

  • About a Dating Sim Where Dating Is Impossible Chapter 31

    The Church of Mistra.

    There, under the supervision of Bishop Nikephoros, Prince Constantine and Princess Sophia were formally united in marriage. A ceremony conducted purely for political advantage, yet the people cheered. The rumours in the capital that the prince had insulted the Kantakouzenos family had not unsettled Morea.

    Of course, the minor protest from the mercenary captain was promptly silenced.

    After all, the Moreans, who had lived almost independently for a century, supported the prince’s decision. Some even hoped he would break away from the crumbling empire altogether. But that was not the prince’s intention.

    Prince Constantine dreamed of uniting the old territories under the imperial banner once again. For him, the growing independence of the Moreans was an unwelcome reality. However, it was too early to dwell on that. More immediate concerns demanded his attention, foremost among them being Serbia’s situation.

    Princess Sophia responded to the prince’s concerns with a cooperative tone.

    “As stated in the letter, Serbia is still suffering from the aftermath of our recent defeat. While my father holds considerable power, his legitimacy is fragile, having been elevated by the nobles after the king’s death. In such a situation, it’s challenging to mobilize a large army.”

    The prince wasn’t interested in endless excuses.

    “So, what’s the actual number of troops available for deployment?”

    “…Three to four thousand, perhaps.”

    “This is worse than I thought… At least we won’t have to worry about internal interference.”

    While the local lords’ forces could be mustered, the opponent was a newly established ruler with weak legitimacy. In contrast, Prince Constantine, with both noble blood and proven ability, had firmly established himself. It seemed unlikely that Stefan Lazarević, relatively new to power, could command his lords’ armies at will.

    Believing his superiority assured, the prince looked Sophia with a stern gaze. Perhaps she was downplaying Serbia’s military capabilities to gain an advantage. If she intended to use military support as leverage for dominance in the alliance, she was underestimating him.

    “Given how long your father has ruled, shouldn’t Morea be the one offering support?”

    “Thank you for your rude concern. But it’s foolish for representatives of two nations, facing the Ottomans, to be fighting like this.”

    “I’m not here to listen to excuses!”

    If this continued, the conversation would go in circles forever. The prince resolved to take a more aggressive stance. His emotions surged through the room like a tempest. From the beginning, his sole reason for this marriage was Serbia’s military support. If Serbia couldn’t provide the troops he needed, what value did this union hold?

    “I can understand the aftermath of defeat and the internal turmoil after the king’s death. But after twenty years, only four thousand troops?!”

    “A prince of the empire, speaking with such little decorum—it makes one wonder about your upbringing.”

    “There must be more. If Serbia’s military was truly that weak, it would have fallen long ago. I estimate you could muster eight thousand if you put everything on the line. Am I right?”

    “…If the nation’s fate depended on it, yes.”

    “You wouldn’t be thinking of gambling your survival against the Ottomans with just four thousand, would you? So it’s eight thousand after all. Much better than I feared…”

    The prince’s anger cooled as swiftly as it had flared. Sophia smirked at his abrupt change of demeanor.

    “Is that how you intend to threaten your wife?”

    Sophia’s continued provocations were lost on the prince, whose thoughts had already shifted elsewhere. With their hearts so misaligned, there seemed little point in reconciling. The prince, gazing at the map spread on his desk, responded with a detached tone.

    “Once we defeat the Ottomans, I’ll grant you a divorce. You needn’t consider me your husband.”

    “If you think you can just use me, you underestimate my resolve.”

    Neither husband nor wife was willing to back down. The prince, weary of the endless conflict, saw two options: part ways or find a compromise.

    He chose the latter.

    “I’ll act as you do.”

    “I imagine we have more differences than commonalities.”

    “You agreed to this marriage because it promised benefits. What I seek is Serbia’s military support. Additionally, I desire the sharing of your intelligence.”

    This was a practical marriage. Just as the prince sought gain, Sophia had her own motives for entering the union. At last, her sharp retorts gave way to a slight smile.

    “Now you ask the right questions.”

    The choice had been correct. Sophia, tracing a finger along the neckline of her dress, slowly approached the prince. Her enticing smile and alluring figure were calculated to seduce. The prince regarded her with a cold, unfeeling gaze, but Sophia remained undeterred.

    Despite the loveless exchange of glances, Sophia enveloped her arms around the prince’s neck, pulling him close.

    “…I desire you. Not as a rational woman, but as a princess.”

    “Have you been eyeing the empress’s seat?”

    “Yes, I have. I am certain that one day you will ascend as a great sovereign. Your wife will be the most noble woman ruling half the world when that time comes.”

    Bittersweet memories swirled in Sophia’s mind. She had come this far, reassuring herself that choosing the prince was the right decision. She leaned in close and whispered softly into the prince’s ear, making sure no one else could hear.

    “Permit me to pursue love with the one I truly adore.”

    Hearing these words, the prince was overwhelmed with a mix of astonishment and humiliation. Even in a political marriage, to say such a thing so boldly to one’s husband was audacious. Yet, the emotion that followed wasn’t anger but envy. Why did he find himself envying Sophia? The unexpected turmoil within left the prince’s eyes wavering.

    Fortunately, the envy quickly dissipated, replaced by the longed-for fury—an intense motivator, guiding the prince’s judgment.

    After expelling the Ottomans from the Balkans, a war for regional dominance would follow. If they could also drive out Venice, they would eventually confront Serbia. By then, the misdeeds of a Serbian-born empress would serve as a perfect pretext. Even if unable to mobilize an army, it would be a potent diplomatic card to pressure the opposition.

    Indifference

    He could easily provide it.

    “I’ll consent. I will actively remain indifferent for the sake of your love.”

    “…Then I have no complaints.”

    Sophia, adjusting her attire and stepping back, left the prince to savour the lingering scent with a slight furrow of his brow. Though a significant rift separated them, a compromise had been reached. The prince, however, was the first to secure what he desired.

    That dark night, the prince personally witnessed the source of Sophia’s intelligence.

    “This peculiar candle… Jews, is it?”

    “There are also Gypsies.”

    They had slipped away to a humble dwelling, where a uniquely shaped candle, a symbol of Judaism, was placed. Perhaps Sophia had informed them in advance. A man draped in a shabby cloak knelt and greeted her.

    “It is an honor to meet you, Princess.”

    “Please address me as Mrs. Dragaš now. I am a married woman.”

    The Jew gazed intently at Sophia, the meaning behind his look unclear. As the prince began to speculate, Sophia glanced at him briefly before smiling at the Jew.

    “Don’t worry. Everything is fine.”

    “As you command.”

    This made it difficult to discern Sophia’s past, but the prince seized the opportunity to inquire about another matter.

    “When did you start associating with them? Have they ever actively contributed?”

    “Jews and Gypsies are often despised but easily pitied. Scattered everywhere, they rarely arouse suspicion. They acquire what they cannot attain themselves through the sympathy of others.”

    “…Since when have they been in Mistra?”

    “I’ve only recently made contact. It was challenging. Mistra is so stable that few are willing to risk uncertain dangers.”

    “So, if I offered them better terms, do you think they would support me?”

    “Generally, one would prefer a noble of lineage and renown over a suspicious Jewish retainer.”

    Sophia’s words rang true. Yet, for a prince grappling with a shortage of talent, even considering the appointment of women, what use were the Jews?

    Faced with this new possibility, the prince quietly began to deliberate.

  • About a Dating Sim Where Dating Is Impossible Chapter 30

    Serbia and the Empire have a tangled relationship in many ways.

    Serbia, originally formed by Slavs opposing the Empire, and the Empire that sought to subjugate them. Even after Christianization, Serbia continually eyed the throne of Constantinople, especially during the era of Stefan Dušan.

    It was only with the emergence of external threats that these two nations, bound by war and submission, began to pursue genuine peace and coexistence.

    Constantine, the Prince of the Empire, and Princess Sophia of Serbia.

    The meeting between these two, bearing the future and fate of their nations, finally takes its first step…!

    …Or so it was thought.

    “Is the only thing you’re curious about in that field?”

    Sophia’s abrupt question sounded strange, at least to the prince. For him, it was a baffling shift in the conversation. He tilted his head, reflecting on their dialogue so far. The greetings had been ordinary, marked by respectful and noble decorum.

    From there, they exchanged insights about the internal affairs of Serbia, the Empire, and the Balkans in light of the Ottoman movements—a highly informative discussion. Was there something else Sophia wished to discuss? Although he saw no other topics, Sophia seemed to think otherwise.

    With consideration, the prince asked for her opinion.

    “Is there another topic you wish to discuss?”

    At this, Sophia sighed deeply, filled with disappointment and resignation. She didn’t hide her feelings.

    “…I think I understand why you’re not popular.”

    “??”

    To the prince, Sophia’s muttering sounded entirely odd. Her strange behaviour aside, Sophia had no desire to continue the boring, excessively formal conversation. With a faint smile, she rose gracefully from her seat.

    “My apologies for interrupting, but it seems the fatigue from travel hasn’t quite lifted. I’ll take my leave to rest. I hope you have a pleasant day, Your Highness.”

    Her face clearly reflected irritation rather than favour. Sophia left, followed by the silent Serbian delegation trailing after her out of the banquet hall.

    The prince was left alone in the vast hall.

    He felt neither defeat nor anger at the rudeness. Quietly, he reached for a wine glass and took several sips. Perhaps a bit tipsy, he heard a voice of reproach directed at him.

    ‘Do you even intend to get married?’

    Would he? The prince, slightly intoxicated from the rarely-touched wine, seriously pondered the phantom question. It churned in his mind for a long time. Eventually, the prince found a clear answer.

    ‘Well, what if I don’t?’

    The prince had been a potential successor to the throne. This marriage wasn’t just about political leverage; it was a strategic move to secure an alliance with the Empire and safeguard his position as Prince of Morea.

    It was the right thing to do.

    The marriage lacked nothing.

    Even so, why did he hesitate?

    ‘Was I lacking in any way?’

    He recalled the image of a pure young girl gazing up at him with pleading eyes. Yes, he had been lacking. Very much so. The prince repeated his words to himself over and over, trying to justify his decision. He suppressed his guilt and the vague, indescribable feelings.

    “It was the right thing to do…”

    From the moment he saw the frightened citizens behind the besieged capital’s walls, he resolved to take this path. Once a life seeking romantic love shifted to prioritize responsibility and duty.

    What drove him to this obsession?

    What made him so cold?

    He slowly recalled the moment, eyes closed.

    At first, it might have seemed like a mere game. But the chilling wind and physical pain he felt moved him. He didn’t want to be hurt. Even if it was a game, the pain was real.

    To escape a miserable fate, he took his first step, struggling. That struggle turned to anger as he saw others resigned to their fate. He was trying so hard to survive—how could they accept suffering so easily? By whose permission?

    So he forced them to stand, to suffer in the struggle.

    What began as selfishness born from a desire to avoid pain turned into something more. The trustful gazes and hopeful cheers from the people reshaped him. The saying that a position shapes a person had become true for him.

    He realized his responsibility and duty.

    This was the prince’s punishment for dragging others into suffering due to his whims. Bearing the Empire’s flag was a serious obligation imposed upon him. His yearning for power, cloaked in responsibility, was a burden he would carry for life.

    But without results, such agonizing thoughts would be meaningless.

    As soon as the prince opened his eyes, he stormed out of the banquet hall. The ending wasn’t ideal, but he had adhered to the formalities expected before the wedding. He reminded himself of the purpose of this marriage—it was never meant to be a sweet honeymoon. This union was merely a stepping stone to save the Empire.

    Whether Sophia felt pleased or displeased was none of his concern.

    If she wished, he would grant her a divorce—once the Empire had firmly secured its dominance over Serbia. That would only happen after ensuring their survival against the Ottomans.

    Love or tender romance had no place here.

    Not yet. There was still more to be done.

    //

    On her way back to her chamber, Sophia couldn’t help but stew over her grievances.

    Even if this was a political marriage, how could he be so oblivious to the atmosphere? Not a single compliment or line to smooth their relationship was offered. Perhaps his harsh surroundings had left him ignorant of how to interact with women.

    “Still, that tone was too much, even for a noble.”

    As a prince of an esteemed empire, he should possess the refinement expected of his station. His speech was so blunt it felt almost crude—had he never polished his speech? It was understandable, to a degree, that he had a soldier’s disposition rather than that of a diplomat, but as a ruler, he should have shown the qualities befitting his role.

    “I expected some challenges, but this is too much…”

    Her disappointment in the prince only intensified the vivid memory of another man.

    The gallant knight who was always noble and, at times, recited romantic poems with a gentle smile. His tender gaze and whispered sweet nothings during their dreamlike days together now shackled her heart. Memories that were once warm had become chains binding her.

    “I mustn’t think of him… I can’t.”

    Sophia recalled a promise made with her father during her childhood.

    It was the day she first understood the adult truth that love could be both desired and discarded. Her father’s solemn words had etched themselves into her broken heart, teaching her that the only thing a noble could truly hold onto was power. She repeated this lesson countless times.

    From that perspective, Constantine was the ideal groom.

    He had stabilized Morea from a young age and now stood at the center of imperial power, capable of steering the Empire’s future.

    Yet, something still left her dissatisfied.

    “No… I won’t be swayed by love again. I can do this. I will do this.”

    Marrying the prince was a highly beneficial decision for both Serbia and Sophia herself. The advantages were too significant to overlook. As she reaffirmed this resolve, her attendant, observing her expression, hesitantly spoke.

    “Your Highness, if you’re unhappy with this marriage, perhaps the second prince would be a better choice?”

    Sophia paused. Abandon the prince now and choose the second prince instead? That would only further damage the already fragile trust. Besides, what did Theodoros have that could compare to the prince? I can do this. Sophia pushed all past memories to the farthest corners of her mind.

    With a serene face, having banished her earlier turmoil, she turned to her attendant and smiled brightly.

    “No, it’s fine. I’m satisfied.”

    “Your Highness…”

    “Don’t worry.”

    Concern born from loyalty was appreciated, but if it led to ruin, it was misplaced. Sophia craved power. To be content as a princess of Serbia meant relinquishing the most precious value she could possess.

    “Prince Constantine is more than charming enough.”

    Sophia desired power.

    For the sake of the old memories her broken heart might still hold on to.

  • About a Dating Sim Where Dating Is Impossible Chapter 29

    Approximately two months had passed since the scandal in the capital.

    Though I was somewhat exhausted from avoiding the nonstop weeping Ivania, those days were not spent in vain. Morea remained stable, and the military training progressed smoothly. As those two months went by, the inevitable finally arrived.

    “Your Highness, the envoys from Serbia have arrived.”

    “Sigh…”

    Though I had never felt a desperate thirst for women, this was an unavoidable step to establish an alliance. Letting out a deep sigh, I changed into formal attire to receive the envoys.

    The formal wear was a simple, clean design with only the bare minimum of luxury. If it were about representing an ideology, more extravagance might be appropriate. However, I was merely a prince of Morea for now.

    With the devoted care of the attendants, I transformed into formal attire and headed to the banquet hall where a feast had been prepared in advance. Unlike usual, attendants accompanied me. Meeting foreign envoys necessitated a display of authority, no matter how reluctant I felt. As we walked down the corridor, an attendant spoke up.

    “….Your Highness, if it is not too bold, may I ask a question?”

    I had refrained from conversation, not wanting to inconvenience the attendants. Hence, it was rare for them to initiate conversation.

    Curious about the matter, I nodded, prompting the maid to part her red lips.

    “Did you perhaps encounter another maid last night…?”

    A lively girl flashed through my mind. I vividly recalled her hesitating in the corridor, too afraid to deliver a letter to my strict and serious self. But the maid’s tone suggested something was amiss. Turning my head away indifferently, I warned her.

    “I don’t know why you are asking such a question, but remember, any personal action will be met with appropriate punishment.”

    “That’s not it, Your Highness!”

    “Then what is the reason?”

    Caught off guard by my sudden question, the maid fumbled, looking more suspicious by the moment. As I looked at her with a probing gaze for several seconds, she finally broke under the pressure, confessing in a flustered manner.

    “The girl named Maria claimed the person she met at night was Your Highness… it seemed so.”

    Had she been broadcasting it everywhere? It wasn’t surprising, though. A lively girl bragging about an unusual encounter wasn’t exactly a punishable offense.

    “I’ll overlook it if it remains a secret.”

    “Ah… Yes, understood.”

    Her bewildered nod was amusing. If I had punished her for this, I’d become a tyrant whose notoriety would last for ages. How bad must my image be for such a reaction?

    Smiling dryly at my mixed feelings of guilt, I finally caught sight of the audience chamber doors.

    Beyond those doors awaited the princess of Serbia.

    Judging by past events and the letters, she seemed like an exceptionally bold woman. As I pondered how to handle her, I couldn’t help but hope she would be a trustworthy ally.

    //

    Sophia, upon arriving in Morea’s capital—Mistra—was certain her expectations were met.

    Amidst the bustling people and soldiers maintaining order, the citizens displayed no signs of unease despite the armed soldiers patrolling the streets. Was this truly a city of a crumbling empire?

    “I’d heard that the principality was flourishing under the prince’s rule, but I didn’t expect this level of stability…”

    The words, muttered absentmindedly by the retainer following her, reached Sophia’s own thoughts. While the prince’s military talent was known, his prowess in governance and administration was overwhelming. Unconsciously, Sophia found herself comparing Serbia with Morea.

    ‘It feels as if all of Father’s efforts were in vain… What have we been doing all this time?’

    Her father, Stefan Lazarević, had struggled to recover from the aftermath of defeats for the past 20 years. Having supported him, Sophia immediately recognized the extraordinary nature of Morea and its prince, who had stabilized the region in less than a decade. Witnessing this, a renewed sense of confidence surged within Sophia.

    “Indeed, Father, my choice was the right one.”

    Confidence enveloped Sophia, amplifying her proud demeanor. Radiating her inherent beauty even more, Sophia proceeded to the court of Mistra with the envoys. However, her anticipation soon dissipated.

    The stark and barren court, devoid of any significant art, twisted her brow. The cold surroundings seemed unworthy of a prince’s status.

    Does he not value the dignity of a prince…?

    A ruler, as a symbol of the nation and its ideology, should adorn and present themselves fittingly.

    Regardless of the fallen empire’s state, he was still a prince and a legitimate power-holder of the empire. The capital’s court reflected the ruler’s prestige, yet it was left in such neglect.

    “Even as an imperial prince, he may not fully grasp the weight of his responsibilities. That is something Your Highness can assist him with over time,” the retainer reassured, noticing Sophia’s displeasure.

    Indeed, if the other party had shortcomings, it would magnify her influence. Envisioning the power that might be shared with her, Sophia followed the attendant into the banquet hall. Thankfully, the hall was modestly decorated.

    The person waiting for Sophia and her party in the hall was a blonde woman who appeared somewhat haggard.

    Her light armor immediately signalled to Sophia that she was a knight. A female knight…? All eyes were drawn to the unexpected figure. As attention focused on her, the knight’s eyes flicked towards them.

    “…….”

    Sophia didn’t miss the momentary sharpness in the knight’s gaze when their eyes met. Yet such a subtle threat did not intimidate Sophia. Maintaining her grace, she offered a soft smile and greeted her.

    “Greetings. I am Sophia Lazarević, here to meet His Highness, Prince Dragases.”

    “….Welcome, Princess.”

    With a curt response, the knight turned and exited the audience chamber. The envoys struggled to conceal their outrage at the discourteous behaviour. Such arrogance might have been acceptable in an empire that was crumbling, but in seeking an alliance, how could they be so rude?

    “It seems they are trying to assert dominance over us. Princess, please be cautious.”

    “Thank you for your concern. But I was prepared for something like this.”

    Still, it was infuriating. Dark resentment simmered in the depths of her consciousness. Taking her seat, Sophia began contemplating how to retaliate against Morea’s aggressive stance.

    It was then that the prince appeared.

    “His Highness, Prince Dragases!”

    With the attendant’s clear declaration, all eyes shifted to the prince. It was the first meeting with a figure Sophia had only known through letters or information—a beacon of hope for the chaotic Balkans, a glimmer of light through the dense fog.

    Constantine Dragases, the prince whose name echoed among the subjects of the empire.

    And when Sophia’s eyes met Prince Constantine’s, she understood why he was so indifferent in decorating the court.

    Sophia was well aware of John, co-emperor to Manuel II, renowned for his outstanding beauty. His friendly smile and eloquent speech made him a natural diplomat. Constantine, likely overshadowed by such a brother, was less frequently mentioned.

    Yet, if John was known for his captivating charm, Constantine exuded a colder, more stoic image. His neatly combed yet wavy black hair, firm lips, and eyes hardened by a turbulent life displayed unyielding resolve. Dressed in simple attire, Constantine resembled a warrior ready for battle.

    I see… So that’s why…

    There was no need to decorate the court.

    The prince himself, through his mere presence, conveyed all the authority he possessed.

  • Logging Out Is Too Hard Chapter 5

    “Huff…! Huff…!!”

    Woojin began running with all his might, tearing through the dense bushes like a madman.

    “…What the hell is that?!”

    His heart felt like it was about to burst. But he knew—if he stopped now, it wouldn’t be a matter of dying later. He’d die right there on the spot.

    “Damn it…!!!”

    It wasn’t clear whether he was cursing the monster chasing after him or the fact that his decision to play a game had brought him to the brink of death. Either way, curses poured ceaselessly from his mouth.

    “Leave me behind.”

    A strained voice came from Raul, whom Woojin was supporting.

    “If you’ve got the strength to say that, put it into walking just a bit harder,” Woojin gritted his teeth, pulling Raul closer.

    ‘Was he always this light?’

    Maybe it was because something that should be there was missing.

    Crunch—.

    Woojin glanced at Raul’s right arm.

    The hand that should have been gripping a sword was gone.

    “Grr…!!”

    Though the potion he used managed to stop the bleeding, it couldn’t reattach the severed arm. With every step Raul took, blood gushed from his side, staining his clothes.

    It had happened in an instant.

    A monster emerged from the darkness and swung its sword awkwardly, cutting off Raul’s hand in one strike. The blade then plunged into his side. Though its technique was clumsy, the speed of the attack was so quick that Raul, already old and worn, couldn’t react.

    ‘At this rate, we’re both dead.’

    Woojin knew they wouldn’t get much farther with him supporting Raul.

    The monster, as if mocking them, was lumbering along, closing the distance step by step.

    “What do we do?”

    “…What?”

    “What do we do to kill that thing?”

    Woojin’s desperate voice carried his ragged breaths.

    “Didn’t I tell you earlier? That thing’s a monster! It’s not something we can kill!”

    “So what? You’re saying we just lie down and die?”

    Woojin asked, his voice sharp.

    “You said we had to survive! You said we needed to reach the Lion King’s Bastion! I’m saying the same—I don’t want to die here!!”

    He shouted, his desperation spilling out.

    “Do we stab its heart to kill it? Or break its limbs?”

    His cry jolted Raul back to reality.

    Raul turned to look at him.

    At his eyes.

    At his unwavering determination to fight.

    Without a word, Raul nodded as if he’d finally understood what needed to be done.

    “Wait, what are you doing?!”

    Raul removed the sword from his waist and pressed it into Woojin’s chest.

    “Someone has to survive.”

    “Raul!!!”

    With a fierce shove, Raul pushed Woojin away.

    The path flanked by steep slopes caused Woojin to lose his balance and tumble down the incline.

    “…Ack!!!”

    He rolled for several meters before crashing into a tree, finally coming to a stop.

    “Raul!!!!”

    He screamed the name over and over, but no answer came.

    “Damn it…!! Damn it all…!!!”

    Just hours earlier, he had clung to a shred of hope in this nightmarish world. And now…

    “Damn it!!!”

    Who could he blame?

    The gods? Himself? The game? Or that monster?

    Gritting his teeth, Woojin clutched Raul’s sword tightly.

    “I have to get back up there, no matter what…”

    And then it happened.

    Click—.

    In the eerie silence, a foreign noise echoed.

    Woojin’s trembling eyes slowly lifted.

    “…!!!”

    On the ridge above, a pair of crimson eyes glowed ominously.

    Thud— Thud— Thud—!!

    Rumble—!!!

    Woojin couldn’t believe his eyes.

    The monster was sliding down the slope, charging straight at him.

    “This is bullshit!!!!”

    With a thunderous roar, his attack caused the monster’s body to stagger.

    Thud—!!!

    The monster’s legs slid back several steps.

    ‘W-what?!’

    Quickly pulling back to create distance, Woojin looked at the creature with a bewildered expression.

    ‘That just now….’

    The form had been clumsy, but the power behind the downward slash was entirely different from before.

    It was the warrior skill, Smite.

    ‘It… it worked.’

    For the first time, Woojin stared at his hands in disbelief.

    “Huup…”

    There was no time to be amazed.

    He looked at the monster advancing toward him.

    Clink— Clink—.

    Every time it took a step closer, Woojin retreated one step back.

    The tension was noticeable.

    Woojin focused all his attention on the monster’s worn sword.

    Whoosh—!!!

    The monster’s blade moved, and—

    Clatter—!!!

    Seizing the moment, Woojin lunged into the monster’s reach with all his might.

    ‘If I can use warrior skills…!’

    Boom—!!!

    He didn’t need to figure out how.

    His body and mind instinctively moved as if they had known all along.

    The warrior’s second skill: Dash.

    Moving at an explosive speed, Woojin circled to the side of the monster and swung his sword with all his strength.

    “Hyaahhh!”

    Boom—!!!

    Another swing landed, causing the monster to sway. But Woojin didn’t stop—he kept swinging.

    “Huff… huff…”

    How many times had he swung?

    He was out of breath, his head pounding from exhaustion.

    “Damn it…”

    He had poured everything into the attack, but the monster didn’t even have a scratch.

    Still, it stood steadfast, blocking the exit.

    Woojin’s expression hardened as he stared at the creature.

    Of course, it had killed Raul.

    There was no way he could win.

    But—

    ‘I can’t die like this.’

    If he could just create an opening to escape…

    Then, it happened.

    BOOM—!!!!

    The monster, which had been motionless until now, finally moved.

    “…?!”

    Slash…

    The creature’s blade grazed Woojin’s cheek.

    Blood trickled down from the wound.

    Woojin stared at the monster in a daze.

    ‘W-what was that?’

    He hadn’t even blocked or reacted to the attack.

    This was different from before.

    ‘…Was it toying with me this whole time?’

    Damn it.

    Biting his lip in frustration, Woojin felt nothing but anger welling up.

    But there was nothing he could do.

    Only fear pressed down on him.

    His last desperate attack had been futile, and now all he could do was retreat, step by step, as the monster advanced.

    Thud—.

    When his back finally hit the wall,

    [Grrk, grrk.]

    The creature’s shoulders shook as though it were laughing, mocking him now that he had nowhere left to run.

    ‘…Is this how I die?’

    No matter how hard he tried to think, he couldn’t find a way to escape.

    Crunch—!!

    Screw that.

    If there’s no way out, then I’ll fight until I find one.

    “Arghhhh!!!!”

    His fear turned to rage, driving him forward.

    At that moment—

    Woooom…

    Surprisingly, the magic circle beneath his feet began to glow.

    “…?!”

    Startled, he looked down.

    Without realizing it, his retreat had brought him to the center of a magic circle etched into the floor.

    “What… what is this?!”

    As the magic circle suddenly activated, his unease deepened.

    Swoooosh―――!!!

    A blinding white light and a sharp gust of wind enveloped him in an instant.

    ‘That’s….’

    As the swirling dust cleared, Woojin noticed something lying inside the circle on the wall.

    A black robe.

    And within it, skeletal remains.

    It was the corpse of a dark mage.

    “Ugh… ugh.”

    It felt like he was submerged in water—he couldn’t breathe.

    His consciousness blurred.

    Bzzt—.

    A sound like a broken radio’s static stabbed into his mind.

    It felt like sinking into a deep abyss, his body weightless and unresponsive, drifting in a daze.

    ‘…What is this?’

    It was an indescribable sensation, like simultaneously falling endlessly and rising infinitely.

    His vision wavered.

    Something soft and gelatinous broke through the oppressive darkness around him.

    Tremble—.

    A small, trembling light appeared.

    “…Ugh?!”

    Suddenly, the light forced its way into his mouth.

    Gulp—.

    In an instant, it slid down his throat and attached into his body.

    “…Cough!!! Cough!!!”

    Woojin opened his eyes, clutching at his neck, gagging.

    “Ugh, ughhh!”

    But only thick saliva came out.

    “What’s wrong with that guy?”

    “Who knows? Guess he’s really lost it now.”

    “Tsk tsk…”

    Voices surrounded him.

    He quickly lifted his head.

    The once-ruined village was now lined with intact buildings, and the crimson sky was clear.

    “This is…”

    Woojin stared blankly at the scene before him.

    [You have logged in.]

    The notification lingering in his vision slowly disappeared.

    He was inside the game.

    “Damn it…”

    Exhausted, he collapsed against the fountain in the plaza and closed his eyes.

    “Ha… haha.”

    The logout menu was still nowhere to be found.

    Nothing had changed.

    And yet it was strange.

    He had wanted to escape this game world so desperately…

    But ironically, realizing he was in the game brought him a sense of peace.

    “…Was it all just a dream?”

    He opened his eyes slowly.

    Maybe he had been exhausted.

    That might explain it.

    After all, he had been standing in this spot, unmoving, for days.

    Shiver—.

    Suddenly, his body trembled.

    Clang—.

    The sword he held slipped from his hands and fell to the ground.

    Name: Raul’s Dragon Slayer Sword
    Grade: D
    Description: The treasured sword of Raoul, a dragon hunter, found in the Dark Forest. Though it lacks special abilities, it is said to be unbreakable.

    ▶ Attack Power +50
    ▶ Indestructible
    ▶ Contains Raoul’s essence.

    Gulp—.

    Woojin swallowed dryly without realizing it.

    “…No way.”

    It was all real.

    [Would you like to absorb Raul’s essence?]

    At that moment, a notification appeared before his eyes.

  • The Second Coming of the Legendary Sword God Chapter 4

    A knight clad in crimson armor, with long, aged red hair.

    Valentine de Strange.

    Known as the “Red Crow of the West,” she had come to the castle.

    Her sudden visit threw the entire castle into a frenzy. The air inside grew tense, as if bracing for a storm on the horizon.

    Not just the steward, but even the caretakers hurried to greet her. Every guardian knight she passed offered a formal salute.

    “Welcome, Lady Valentine!”

    Without so much as a glance, she acknowledged them with a curt nod and continued down the corridor, her expression icy.

    Her sharp gaze was so piercing that anyone it brushed against felt paralyzed. Knights below the rank of three stars, unable to reinforce their bodies with energy in time, collapsed, foaming at the mouth.

    Under normal circumstances, she would have restrained her aura out of “consideration” for others. But not today.

    Why had Valentine come to the castle unannounced? It wasn’t a special day.

    The head guardian knight, leading her path, was filled with questions but kept them to himself.

    A mere knight captain knew better than to speak out of turn—especially with someone like Valentine. After all, there was only ever one reason for her visits.

    Someone in the castle was about to die.

    Wherever Valentine de Strange, the executor of the Strange family, appeared, death followed. Her nickname, the Red Crow, stemmed from this very reputation—her arrival heralded blood and demise. Not just for enemies but even members of her own family. Her name carried weight and fear alike.

    “…From here on, I wish to walk in silence. Skip the formalities.”

    Valentine’s voice was a soft murmur, yet it demanded absolute obedience.

    The head guardian knight bowed deeply.

    “Yes, my lady!”

    She stopped on the fourth floor of the castle. Above, on the fifth floor, were quarters reserved for children not yet ready to leave the castle—newborns or those who hadn’t yet enrolled in the academy.

    From the point where salutes were skipped, Valentine concealed her aura completely and walked straight to the triplets’ room without hesitation.

    Knock, knock, knock.

    Three short knocks.

    Creak.

    The door opened, and her calm, low voice resonated.

    “Follow me.”

    At her command, the triplets—Tony, Johnny, and Ronnie—silently obeyed.

    Though siblings, none of them dared to greet her or even ask questions. The youngest, Ronnie, was so overwhelmed he wet himself in fear.

    Who could blame him? A figure known as the death harbinger of the family had come for them. How could they not be terrified?

    Valentine led the three to the underground levels. At some point, the guardian knight who had been guiding her stepped aside.

    When they reached the end of the underground passage, Valentine began her execution.

    No matter how young, those who broke the family’s rules faced punishment.

    The triplets clasped their hands together, praying silently. Their lips didn’t move, but their desperation was evident in their expressions.

    Swish.

    Valentine drew a dagger from her waist. Known as the “Blade of Judgment” within the Strange family, it was an executioner’s tool.

    “Be grateful for the Lord’s mercy. By all rights, I should take your heads. But today, I will settle for your fingers.”

    Having completed the punishment, Valentine and the triplets arrived at Verdin’s room.

    Valentine took a deep breath before lightly knocking on the door.

    Knock, knock, knock.

    She entered the room in the same manner as before.

    Creak.

    Verdin, seated at a desk reading a book, looked up. Unlike his siblings, he didn’t seem startled by her appearance.

    Instead, he greeted her with a warm smile.

    “You’re here, sister.”

    Verdin’s gaze swept over the four figures in his room. In that brief moment, he understood everything.

    Valentine stood with her Blade of Judgment still at her side, and the triplets, their fingers wrapped in bandages, stood beside her.

    So that’s how it is.

    There was only one thing that puzzled him.

    If Valentine, the Red Crow, had personally intervened, someone should have died. Yet the triplets were all alive.

    Does this mean she has another reason for visiting the castle beyond her duties?

    Despite realizing this, Verdin remained composed.

    Valentine’s lips twitched briefly into a smirk before her expression hardened once more. She took a seat across from him.

    This brat…

    Even in her presence, his confidence remained unshaken. His clear, observant eyes seemed to peer straight into her thoughts.

    It was as if he’d anticipated her arrival.

    In stark contrast to the triplets, who had collapsed in terror at the sight of her, he appeared utterly unperturbed.

    “Have you been well?”

    Such a simple greeting.

    For most, it was a mundane exchange, but the triplets were astonished.

    Valentine, who never shared pleasantries with anyone outside their father, had initiated small talk.

    When she had summoned them, there hadn’t even been a greeting—just a cold, low command to “follow.”

    Their sense of grievance swelled, but they dared not voice it.

    “Yes,” Verdin replied, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

    In his previous life, she hadn’t even shown her face when he entered the academy. To see her acting like this now was strange.

    Though they had exchanged only a single greeting, it felt awkward and unnatural.

    An awkward silence ensued.

    To the triplets, the seconds stretched into an eternity.

    Valentine appeared to speak, hesitated, then closed her mouth again. She tilted her head slightly before falling silent once more.

    Why has Valentine come to see me?

    Verdin’s mind raced.

    The punishment of the triplets was done. His use of the spiritual guardian had been deemed self-defense and wouldn’t lead to punishment.

    He had his suspicions but held his tongue. Whatever her reason, he would find out soon enough.

    She gazed at him in silence. Even her stare was enough to send shivers down one’s spine.

    She truly was the executor of the Strange family, the reaper of death.

    She lives up to her name as the Red Crow.

    Even I, once known as the Sword King in my previous life, felt stifled by her presence.

    Of course, if I had released my aura, it would be a different story. But in my current unawakened state, I had no choice but to endure.

    The triplets fidgeted nervously beside her, stealing glances at her as the silence dragged on.

    Eventually, Valentine broke it.

    “Verdin, do you know why I’ve come?”

    The answer was simple. Today was no special day. Father wasn’t even in the castle. So why would the person called the Executor come all this way?

    Naturally, it was to carry out the task they had been assigned.

    As the family’s “Executor.”

    The undeniable proof of that was in the triplets’ hands.

    But that’s not all, is it?

    Finding the answer wasn’t difficult.

    Verdin pretended to think for a moment, gazing into the distance before turning his eyes back to their original focus and giving his reply.

    “You’ve come to see me.”

    Valentine propped her chin on her hand, her expression intrigued.

    “To see you?”

    “Yes. Otherwise, there wouldn’t have been a need to come directly to my room.”

    And with the triplets in tow, no less.

    “That’s correct. I’ve come to see you. Do you know why?”

    “I suspect it’s simply to see how your younger brother is doing.”

    “Couldn’t I be here to hold you accountable for a crime? Yet you think I’m here just to look at you?”

    Verdin replied without a change in expression.

    “Yes. There’s a saying that whoever chooses the Sword God as their spiritual guardian becomes the next head of the family, isn’t there?”

    “…”

    “If that’s true, wouldn’t you be curious enough to come see for yourself? To see how much I’ve grown? That’s what I believe, at least.”

    “…Ha.”

    Bold.

    Who else would dare speak to Valentine in such a manner? Among the family’s siblings, many couldn’t even approach her, intimidated by her dignity and authority.

    “…Hahaha!”

    Valentine couldn’t suppress her laughter.

    Her laughter echoed throughout the castle, and the aura that burst forth with her released tension shook the ground beneath them.

    Rumble.

    Even the Knight Captain standing guard outside the door was startled by Valentine’s reaction.

    The Executor, Valentine, laughing? How many years had it been since such a sight? Someone had managed to crack her fortress-like heart.

    Even the current family head, Lois, hadn’t witnessed this.

    Could it really be Young Master Verdin?

    His guess was correct.

    In a previous life, when everyone called Valentine a cold-blooded person devoid of emotion, only Verdin had understood her heart.

    He knew the truth: Valentine was the softest-hearted member of the family.

    But to maintain her position, she wore the mask of the “Executor” and moved accordingly.

    Verdin said nothing more, patiently awaiting her response.

    His thoughts were merely guesses and not definitive. He still didn’t know the exact reason Valentine had come, so he refrained from speaking further.

    Valentine extended her hand, gently patting Verdin’s head.

    “Our youngest has grown up well.”

    Verdin cheered internally. His prediction was correct. If his response had been wrong, she wouldn’t have reacted this way.

    Well, if I were in her position and such an extraordinary sibling was born, I’d come to see them too.

    His guess was spot on.

    Indeed, Valentine had come under the guise of her duties to see Verdin. To satisfy her curiosity about how much her younger sibling, with the Sword God as his spiritual guardian, had grown.

    “Thank you, Sister.”

    Valentine nodded slightly and took out a dagger from her belt.

    “A gift.”

    “…A gift?”

    “Yes. To ensure those brats don’t come after you again in my absence, I’ll leave you with this.”

    Within the castle, carrying real weapons was prohibited. The same logic applied to spiritual guardians, a precaution against potential assassinations.

    Yet the fact that she gave him a sharp blade meant only one thing. She wanted the triplets to see that Verdin was armed with a real weapon.

    Valentine truly is wise! With this, they won’t dare lay a hand on me again.

    Verdin did not refuse her goodwill. Instead, he accepted the dagger and shot an implicit warning glance at the triplets.

    “Thank you, Sister.”

    Valentine’s visit presented me with a tremendous opportunity. By binding the triplets’ hands, she ensured no one in the castle could interfere with my actions.

    Not even the knights or the ever-watchful nanny who constantly lingered by my side.

    Now, I wasn’t just a five-year-old child. I was acknowledged as a legitimate member of the main family.

    Finally… it’s complete.

    I let the mana flowing from my palm drip onto the ground.

    Dense, sticky mana. So thick it clung like tar. This was proof that I had successfully opened my pathways.

    Siegfried flashed a crooked smile as he handed me the contract.

    I smiled back, having waited for this moment.

    “Let us begin the contract, Sword God Siegfried.”

  • Gatekeeper Of The Boundless World Chapter 8

    Shen Ye crossed the dance floor, passed through the dining hall, and reached the other side of the main hall, leaping onto a table.

    This put considerable distance between him and the three “accomplices” who had been monitoring him.

    “Friends!”

    He spread his arms wide and loudly announced:

    “Watch closely! Though I am an elf, I can transform into a human!”

    At that moment, not only was Lannie watching him, but so were all the other elves in the room. Even the three “accomplices” focused their attention on him.

    Listening to Shen Ye’s words, they suddenly let out a sigh of relief.

    “Transforming into a human—do you know this type of magic?” one of the “accomplices” asked.

    The other two shook their heads.

    “Feylen just loves to show off—let him fool around. It’s nothing to worry about,” one said.

    “Exactly. His integration with the elves will make tonight’s mission more convenient,” another added.

    With that, they returned to silence.

    Standing atop the table, Shen Ye leaned against the wall and said with a grin:

    “I just counted—there are only 29 people here, and my magic trick requires 33 participants to work.”

    The elves burst into laughter, cheering, clapping, and whistling in disbelief.

    The lively atmosphere filled the hall.

    Lannie quickly rallied a few young elves, who ran out to bring in some patrolling elves from outside.

    The patrol elves entered reluctantly, glancing skeptically at Shen Ye.

    “We’ve got enough people now!” Lannie called out.

    “Then watch closely—here goes!” Shen Ye declared.

    He removed the pale Shadow Crown from his head.

    In an instant, he transformed from an elf into a human youth.

    The room fell silent before erupting into thunderous applause and cheers.

    It was spectacular.

    Before everyone’s eyes, this brave front-line soldier had turned into a human!

    “This is for you, Lannie!”

    Shen Ye waved toward the elf girl.

    Lannie’s face turned bright red as she clapped her hands joyfully.

    “Wait a moment,” Shen Ye said loudly. “It’s not over yet—I’ll transform back now!”

    “Of course!” Lannie enthusiastically shouted back.

    Shen Ye placed his hand on the wall behind him.

    An elfwood door appeared.

    “It’s like this,” he said, facing the crowd with a smile. “I can transform into a human because of this item—”

    He tossed the pale Shadow Crown to a patrolling elf who appeared particularly strong.

    “My three brothers are also wearing these. If their crowns are removed, they’ll transform into undead!”

    The word “undead” cast a heavy shadow over the once-lively atmosphere.

    The patrol elf who caught the Shadow Crown grew visibly serious, and the other patrol elves gathered around to examine it.

    “When my three brothers reveal their true forms, I’ll return. I’ll even transform back into an elf!”

    With that, everyone’s attention turned to the three “accomplices” on the far side of the room.

    At that moment, Shen Ye leaned back, falling into the door in the wall.

    The door shut behind him.

    It vanished.

    Simultaneously, one of the patrol elves blew a sharp whistle.

    “Full alert!”

    The other patrol elves drew their curved blades, rushing forward to encircle the three “accomplices.”

    “You must be mistaken—we’re soldiers resting after returning from the front lines,” one of the “accomplices” said, pointing calmly at the badge on his chest.

    Suddenly, a voice echoed from the void:

    “I wanted to play with you all a little longer, but alas—”

    The elf leader materialized out of thin air, a hint of regret on his face.

    “You undead thought you could infiltrate my village, but you never anticipated that the humans had already infiltrated your ranks, even leading your mission.”

    “How ironic.”

    Thick vines sprouted from the ground, binding the three culprits tightly.

    “Milord.”

    A patrol elf presented the pale Shadow Crown.

    “High-level shadow magic from the Abyss, and it’s permanent—this is truly unexpected,” the elf leader murmured, examining it.

    “With undead assassins infiltrating every village… this artifact will help us uncover their weaknesses and mount a counterattack.”

    “This time, we owe the humans a favor.”

    One of the vines plucked the Shadow Crowns from the three culprits.

    Instantly, they transformed into undead!

    Lannie bit her lip, suddenly turning to look at the far side of the room.

    The other elves followed her gaze, as if recalling something.

    “When my three brothers reveal their true forms, I’ll return. I’ll even transform back into an elf!”

    That’s what the human youth had said.

    But now, the wall was a pristine white.

    He wasn’t coming back.

    …

    On that pristine wall, a door quietly appeared.

    It opened.

    Shen Ye stepped into an empty classroom.

    He checked his phone.

    It was just past ten o’clock. Still early.

    Chen Haoyu had sent him a message:

    “Why aren’t you here yet? Did you fall into a toilet or something?”

    Shen Ye stared at the message, exhaling deeply.

    He had made it back alive!

    That was far too risky.

    From now on, he told himself, he had to remember this lesson. Never again would he be so reckless.

    Absolutely never!

    Still—

    He turned to face the wall, pressing his hand against it and murmuring, “Door.”

    The door reappeared.

    Through the glass window, he could see the same eerie corridor.

    Despite his journey to the elves’ domain, the “door” ability was still connected to the area with the giant skeleton.

    The skeleton had returned.

    It crouched in the corridor, gnawing on a bizarrely shaped corpse.

    Anger surged in Shen Ye as he slammed his hand against the door and shouted:

    “I was risking my life in the elves’ territory, and you were here feasting in comfort?”

    The giant skeleton snapped its head around.

    It saw Shen Ye through the glass and dropped the corpse, rushing over to press itself against the door, examining him.

    “You’re still alive?” the skeleton said in a dry, hoarse voice.

    This was the first time it had spoken to Shen Ye.

    “You cursed thing—you gave me that pale Shadow Crown, fully expecting me to die, didn’t you?” Shen Ye retorted, flipping it the bird through the glass ( TL : Its like a Chinese disrespectful gesture shown to somebody)

    “How did you survive? Tell me everything in detail,” the skeleton demanded.

    “You think I’ll tell you that?” Shen Ye sneered.

    “Tell me, and I’ll pay you equally in return,” the skeleton said.

    “This isn’t about payment. You nearly got me killed! I’m a vengeful man,” Shen Ye replied.

    “Tell me,” the skeleton insisted.

    Shen Ye raised his hand, reaching for the workbook pinned to the door.

    This workbook represented their contract. If it were destroyed, the contract would be nullified.

    “Wait!” the skeleton suddenly shouted.

    At that moment, the workbook flipped open, and glowing words appeared on its pages:

    “The other party seems sincere. In the spirit of ‘equivalent exchange,’ they have prepared a powerful necromantic spell for you. The value of this spell—”

    “You think you can buy me off with a little gift?”

    Shen Ye clenched his fists, roaring in anger:

    “You’re insulting my honesty!!!”

    The giant skeleton froze momentarily.

    Shen Ye reached out to tear the contract.

    “Wait!” the skeleton suddenly exclaimed. “The reason I gave you the Pale Shadow Crown was that you still had a chance to survive. If I had gone myself, death would have been my only outcome.”

    It pressed its bony claws against the door.

    The text on the notebook attached to the door vanished, replaced by several new lines:

    “To express its apology, the other party has surpassed the principle of ‘equal exchange’ and decided to gift you a Nightmare Legacy Crystal.”

    “Nightmare Legacy Crystal: Contains three top-tier evolution-based undead talents. You can choose one to integrate into your soul, thereby acquiring its ability.”

    “Special note: This Nightmare Legacy Crystal is an invaluable cornerstone of the undead race. Across the entire Nightmare World, such treasures are exceedingly rare.”

    Another line of glowing text appeared before Shen Ye:

    “The so-called ‘talent’ refers to an innate ability that can be used without consuming any power.”

    A heavy silence filled the air.

    “I am a man of principle,” Shen Ye said with a light cough, his tone turning serious. “I only deal with business partners who show sincerity.”

    “I’ve given you all my sincerity,” the skeleton replied.

    “…Fine. I’ll forgive you this time, but remember, there won’t be a next time,” Shen Ye said.

    “There won’t be a next time,” the skeleton assured.

    Shen Ye pressed his hand against the notebook.

    The contract was immediately sealed!

    A crystal orb radiating endless prismatic light dropped into his hand.

    Crack.

    Shen Ye crushed the orb without hesitation.

    Golden mist erupted, swirling around him before swiftly merging into his body.

    For a moment, Shen Ye felt dazed.

    The world around him seemed to dissolve into nothingness.

    In a hazy daze, he appeared in a grand palace constructed entirely of white bones.

    Atop a towering throne of skeletal remains, a giant crowned skeleton sat in silence, holding a sword. It pointed at him from afar.

    Above Shen Ye’s head, three rotating orbs of light appeared.

    The first, a green glow, held a crystalline shard of pure ice.

    The second, a gray-white light, contained a bone fragment.

    The third, a golden glow, encased a metal scepter.

    “Choose,” boomed a thunderous voice in Shen Ye’s ears. “From these ancient legacies, select one. Place it against your head to inherit its talent!”

    As the voice echoed, streams of information flooded Shen Ye’s mind about the three legacies.

    The shard hidden within the green light contained an undead talent:

    “Whisper of the Abyss.”

    “Basic (Upgradeable).”

    “By invoking a corpse, the dead must answer your call. They will rise from the underworld and reveal the truth they know so their souls may find peace.”

    “—Death is the deepest teacher.”

    The bone fragment shrouded in gray-white light held another talent:

    “Sanctified Bone Form.”

    “Basic (Upgradeable).”

    “Any force that could kill you will trigger a transformation into a sanctified bone form, rendering you immune to death’s grasp for 5 seconds. This ability can be used once every 24 hours.”

    “—Those who try to control your life and death will find no happy ending.”

    As for the golden scepter, it contained the third talent:

    “Undead Resurrection.”

    “Basic (Upgradeable).”

    “Creates a soul fire that can be placed on a fallen undead, merging with the corpse to bring it back to life.”

    “Among revival spells, this is a profound technique rooted in the essence of resurrection, enabling the undead to rise again.”

    “—The foundation of the undead race’s power.”

    Shen Ye carefully reviewed the options, falling into deep contemplation.

    Which one should he choose?

  • About a Dating Sim Where Dating Is Impossible Chapter 28

    The sender of the letter, as expected, was none other than the Serbian princess who had recently caused a scandal.

    The letter began not with the usual grandiose phrases common in the empire but with clean, straightforward sentences. Skipping unnecessary things, it quickly got to the point, indicating either rudeness or a prior understanding of my disposition. Regardless, the princess herself was clearly a bold figure.

    [Thank you for accommodating my unreasonable request. However, as a princess of Serbia, I had to make the best decision for my country. I hope you can understand.]

    …Quite bold.

    Though framed as an apology, it ultimately justified her actions as right.

    The following content was filled with sentences more assertive than those of most men. Indeed, she was fitting to be the central figure in a marriage scandal that required significant courage. As I assessed her with a mix of admiration and irritation, my eyes landed on less welcome words.

    [However, as much as Your Highness might hope, Serbia’s strength has not recovered. The aftermath of the last war has left our nobility hesitant to take a proactive stance against the Ottomans. Even if we wanted to assert ourselves strongly, we now have a pretext that prevents hasty actions. Therefore, expanding Your Highness’s influence is necessary to mobilize them.]

    It might sound like an excuse, but knowing what Serbia had endured, it wasn’t right to launch unconditional criticism. Both of the past wars ended in decisive Ottoman victories, with the king perishing in the last one only about 20 years ago.

    While a considerable time, the shock of those events was not unreasonable to linger.

    [If Your Highness is genuinely preparing for a decisive battle with the Ottomans, I suggest first seizing the western Pindus Mountains. Controlling Epirus and Albania would strengthen our alliance’s ties significantly. Additionally, it would offer new options to the Ottoman tributaries.]

    Every word was correct. As I found myself agreeing with Sophia’s suggestions, a sigh of frustration escaped me. Following her advice by swiftly moving to seize Epirus, Albania, and central Greece would indeed make it possible to expel the Ottomans from the Balkan territory.

    The problem was that even though the empire was apparently an Ottoman ally, the Ottomans wouldn’t stand idly by. The Ottomans, aiming for dominance in the Balkans, wouldn’t tolerate the rise of a new challenger like Morea.

    The fragile peace, precariously maintained through Mehmed’s friendly policies, would not extend beyond the Peloponnesus.

    Beyond that lies the risk of full-scale war with the Ottomans.

    “Sophia.”

    The Serbian princess who astonishingly knew the empire’s political situation. She must have had information to back her recommendation for a significant expansion hinting at war with the Ottomans. I hoped she hadn’t spoken thoughtlessly, as anyone could make such suggestions. The issue was that only few could execute them.

    The nation’s scale, the quality, and the quantity of the army all placed us at a disadvantage. Even with the assistance of five military experts arranged by Venice, our forces paled in comparison to the Ottoman elite Janissaries.

    The empire’s weakened military structure could not match the Janissaries. Moreover, there were far too few competent leaders to command the army.

    Currently, Morea had only three officers with actual combat experience. None were outstanding generals. Let’s review them. First was Ivania, the mercenary leader, with her striking blonde hair and blue eyes, and formidable strength for a woman. Despite her peculiar disposition, she was undoubtedly a capable general.

    Ivania and her mercenaries were the only ones equipped to challenge the Janissaries. The issue was the small number of soldiers she commanded. High quality meant high pay. Though still employed, mercenaries were a significant burden for the empire. The empire had previously collapsed under the weight of paying the Catalan mercenaries who had been instrumental against the Ottomans.

    Knowing the dangers of an over-reliance on mercenaries, the past two years had focused on forming a standing army. Despite her eccentricity, Ivania remained a threatening yet reliable ally.

    Next was Adriano, a former tax collector and now deputy commander.

    Mentioning Adriano was rare, but he was undoubtedly the most capable bureaucrat after Demicleos, the imperial judge who restructured Morea’s laws. As an elite, his work efficiency placed him as the second in command of Morea. Why did he leave his post as a tax collector to become a deputy commander?

    …Due to a lack of talent.

    Adriano was the only one with the aptitude and experience after Ivania. Despite having no prior ties to the military, he had likely cursed his fate since marching with me on the Achaea expedition.

    The last person was…

    …Me.

    “A pitiful reality.”

    How could I not lament? Despite the bleakness, the letter had undeniably influenced our strategic planning. It had refocused my attention, which had been entirely on reorganizing Morea.

    Thus, the next day, I gathered the necessary figures to discuss Morea’s future. Mercenary leader Ivania, Deputy Commander Adriano, and Imperial Judge Demicleos. After scanning their firm faces, I began my preamble.

    “I had forgotten the most important thing while reorganizing Morea.”

    The mindset shifts depending on whether one has a clear goal or not. The three of them nodded in agreement, particularly Ivania’s reaction stood out.

    “….Yes, Your Highness.”

    A sign that something had changed in her usual demeanor.

    “……What’s the matter, Ivania? Your tone seems different from usual.”

    “…Why would you say such a thing…?”

    “No, isn’t it different?”

    This was perplexing. She wasn’t typically this quiet. I glanced at the other two for confirmation, but they too appeared bewildered.

    “Your Highness, Ivania seems no different from usual.”

    “You must be tense from the tough duties, Your Highness. Please, don’t worry. More importantly, it’s not Ivania’s tone but the direction in which Your Highness will lead us that truly matters.”

    …Indeed, Demicleos was right. There was no time to dwell on Ivania’s tone. Steeling myself, I got straight to the point.

    “Though it still feels distant, the battle between the Ottomans and the empire is inevitable. The Ottomans, aiming for the fall of Constantinople, and our alliance hoping to reclaim our homeland cannot maintain peace for long.”

    The atmosphere grew tense. Understandably so, as defeating the mighty Ottomans seemed nearly impossible. The empire had reached a point where survival without external aid was unfeasible.

    “Thus, in an effort to forge a solid alliance against the Ottomans, I have chosen to engage in a betrothal with Serbia…”

    “…..Achoo.”

    …..

    “As I was saying.”

    “….Cough, cough.”

    …..

    “Ivania.”

    “….Yes, Your Highness.”

    “Your health is crucial for the future of Morea. I’ll arrange for a physician, so take some rest.”

    “Thank you for your kindness… but I’m fine.”

    “…Very well. Let’s continue. The soon-to-be formalized betrothal with Serbia is essential for establishing our alliance. However, Serbia, weakened by successive defeats, holds strong anti-Ottoman sentiments but lacks the resolve for active measures. Just yesterday, the Serbian princess pointed this out in a letter.”

    “Ahhhhhhh!”

    Caught off guard, I didn’t expect this sudden outburst!

    “W-what is the meaning of this! A grown woman acting like this out of the blue!”

    “Already exchanging letters! Is there no hope for me!? Is there no chance for me to be with Your Highness!?”

    Ivania clung to me, bursting into tears. Looking down at her, a surge of sympathy and an odd sense of connection welled up within me.

    At last, I realized…

    It was Ivania, not me!

    “How could you only now realize something so obvious.”

    “Waaaaaahhh!!”

    “Let go if you’ve realized!”

    “Ahhhhh! Waaaahhh!”

    The meeting couldn’t be resumed.

  • The Regressed Extra Becomes a Genius Chapter 10

    The boring theoretical lessons of the morning finally came to an end, making way for the specialized skill training session. Everyone seemed excited at the prospect of practical training.

    For this class, each student headed to the training grounds designated for their particular specialty. Being in the manifestation category, I went to the manifestation magic training ground.

    When I arrived, I noticed many students already practicing magic. Among them were several unfamiliar faces, likely from Class B and Class C. Specialized skill training combined students from all three classes—A, B, and C.

    “I’ve been waiting for this day.”

    “Same here. I’ve always wanted to learn directly from Instructor Lee Hee-young.”

    Lee Hee-young, the second-year manifestation magic instructor, sat elegantly in her chair, wearing round glasses. Even someone like me, who disliked glasses, had to admit that they added an intellectual charm to her appearance.

    I cautiously approached her, aiming to make a good impression and earn some attitude points. Naturally, I was also hoping to gain a few bonus points.

    “Good morning.”

    At my greeting, she smiled warmly.

    “Ah, you’re Kim Sunwoo, right?”

    It was likely our first meeting, yet she called my name with a sense of familiarity.

    She hadn’t glanced at my name tag, so how did she know my name?

    As if reading my mind, she explained,

    “I remember you from the evaluation test. You left an impression.”

    “Ah.”

    It was true that I stood out during the test.

    Nodding in acknowledgment, I heard her continue,

    “Of course, when I say ‘impression,’ I mean it as a compliment unrelated to your test scores.”

    “Huh?”

    I couldn’t quite grasp her meaning, and she smiled at my confusion.

    “Nothing, never mind. Go ahead and start practicing.”

    The manifestation magic training ground was structured like a long shooting range.

    Instructor Lee Hee-young walked down the line, observing students as they practiced. Her teaching style involved providing one-on-one feedback to each student.

    “You’re focusing too much on control and neglecting output. Put a bit more force into your mana and release it faster.”

    “The implementation is off. It needs perfect symmetry, or it’ll veer off unpredictably. Focus on mastering the fundamentals first.”

    “Your output is too slow.”

    “Yours too. You can’t just focus on control at the expense of speed.”

    Despite her detailed guidance, I could sense her frustration.

    While these students had natural mana potential, very few of them knew how to harness it properly.

    Then, her eyes landed on me.

    — Whoosh!

    A brilliant white mana orb shot forward with precision, striking the target’s head dead center.

    It demonstrated remarkable control over mana release and manipulation.

    “Well, now, that’s impressive,” she thought, her interest piqued.

    The stark contrast to my performance during the evaluation test surprised her. Back then, I had struggled with output and control due to my overemphasis on implementation.

    At the time, she assumed I’d focused solely on implementation training, neglecting other areas. After all, handling compressed manifestation techniques at my age wasn’t common.

    Yet, here I was, now demonstrating flawless control, releasing and manipulating mana with precision while using minimal energy. It was as though I were an entirely different person.

    “…It’s no easy feat for someone his age to identify and address their weaknesses,” she thought.

    — Bang!

    A deafening noise rumbled through the ground, drawing everyone’s attention.

    Turning toward the source, she saw Yoo Ara unleashing an enormous mana orb with explosive force.

    Several students gawked at her magic in awe, their jaws practically on the floor.

    Watching Yoo Ara, Lee Hee-young thought,

    “She’s a real monster.”

    Her magic was a spectacle—overwhelmingly powerful, daringly executed, and almost reckless in its grandeur. For an 18-year-old, such mastery was beyond belief.

    However, her magic lacked finesse, resembling a child wildly firing an expensive gun.

    In contrast, my magic was the opposite of Yoo Ara’s.

    If Yoo Ara’s magic was akin to missiles bombarding a target indiscriminately, mine was a precise handgun aimed with care.

    While missiles had raw destructive power, a handgun had its own unique advantages in certain scenarios.

    Similarly, my magic had a distinctiveness: precision and control.

    I demonstrated exceptional balance in mana usage—perfectly implementing, releasing, and controlling it as if I were a professional mage. It was hard to believe I had only recently switched from the enhancement category to manifestation.

    “Kim Sun-woo, your control is quite remarkable. Both your output and manipulation are flawless.”

    “Thank you for your kind words,” I replied, bowing politely.

    Lee Hee-young smiled at my response.

    “He’s adorable,” she thought.

    Rumors among the faculty about Kim Sunwoo being diligent and well-mannered now seemed entirely true.

    But she also recalled the recent controversy over a maliciously edited video of him.

    “Who would do such a thing to such a polite student?”

    Clearly, the perpetrator must have been consumed by jealousy.

    “Is it true that you specialized in enhancement magic until last year?” she asked, voicing her curiosity.

    “…Yes, that’s correct,” I replied cautiously.

    “So you’ve only recently started practicing manifestation magic?”

    “Well… yes, that’s right.”

    Her eyes studied me intently, waiting for further elaboration.

    “It’s no wonder you experienced mana depletion during the evaluation,” she murmured, piecing things together.

    Despite my background in enhancement magic, I had quickly adapted to the complexities of manifestation magic.

    Compression techniques, precise manipulation, and efficient energy usage—none of it seemed possible with just innate talent.

    “…Could this really all be due to raw talent?” she wondered.

    “Alright, that concludes today’s specialty training class. Great work, everyone,” announced Lee Hee-young. With her words, all students stopped their practice. The long, grueling afternoon manifestation magic class was finally over.

    “This is so relieving.”

    “Now this is what a class should feel like.”

    “I just want to crash on my bed now.”

    The students stretched, exchanged farewells, and began exiting the training hall. Next to me, Yoo Ahra was packing up after unleashing one last burst of magic.

    I figured it was time to leave as well. As I moved to exit, I heard Lee Hee-young call my name.

    “Kim Sunwoo?”

    “Yes?”

    “You did well today. How’s your training going lately?”

    “Oh, I’ve been keeping up with it whenever I can.”

    “And mana cultivation? Are you practicing that regularly too?”

    She smiled brightly as she looked at me. I could tell why she was asking.

    She must have noticed the glaring disparity between the skill I demonstrated and my severely lacking mana reserves.

    “Yes, I’ve been working on it.”

    “That’s good. But Sunwoo, you really need to address your low mana reserves as soon as possible. Everything else about your technique is solid.”

    As expected from someone with A-grade mage credentials, she pinpointed my issue with ease.

    “You’re right. There’s no shortcut with mana cultivation; consistency is key.”

    “Exactly. And you strike me as someone diligent enough to do it well.”

    Hee-young paused briefly, then suddenly said, “Ah, hold on a moment,” as she turned to open a desk drawer.

    “Where did I put it?” she murmured, rummaging around before finally finding what she was looking for. She stood up and handed me something.

    “Here, take this.”

    She offered me a small bracelet made of three intertwined red beads.

    “This is an item I crafted for practice. It helps with mana breathing and maintaining condition.”

    “Huh?”

    Items imbued with special effects are typically worth at least half a million won(400 USD). And she was just giving one to me? For free?

    “Are you sure it’s okay for me to take this?”

    “Of course, don’t worry about it. It’s just an F-grade practice item I made myself, so the cost was minimal.”

    Hearing that eased my hesitation. Refusing it now would feel awkward.

    I quickly accepted the bracelet before she could change her mind.

    As I wore it, I felt a faint yet noticeable revitalization in my body.

    “Thank you so much. It’s already making a difference.”

    “Don’t expect miracles. These are usually for kids who haven’t formed a stable mana core yet. But in your case, I think it could still be useful.”

    “I’ll make good use of it.”

    Hee-young smiled in satisfaction and let out a soft laugh.

    “Alright, class is over. You should get going now.”

    6:00 PM.

    The day’s classes were finally over, and the dorms buzzed with activity as students prepared to head back. I, too, was packing up my things when someone called out to me.

    “Sunwoo.”

    I turned to see Lee Seo-jun standing behind me. What did he want now?

    I looked at him, puzzled.

    “Nothing serious,” he said casually. “Just wanted to let you know the team is set.”

    Ah, right. Tomorrow was dungeon exploration day.

    “Have you submitted the team list yet?”

    “Yeah, just handed it in.”

    “Who else is on the team?”

    “Shin Jihyuk, Yoon Hayoung, and Jung Jintae.”

    Shin Jihyuk, Yoon Hayoung, Jung Jintae…

    Out of those, only Yoon Hayoung was a notable character in the original storyline. The other two didn’t ring any bells. Probably minor characters.

    What was his selection criterion?

    “I don’t really remember them. Who are they again?”

    “Eh, you might not know them. They’re not exactly the flashy types like you.”

    Seo-jun grinned as he joked, but I ignored him and asked what really mattered.

    “Where do they rank?”

    “43rd, 82nd, and 122nd.”

    “What?”

    I stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he serious? This team seemed way too weak. Including me, there were three low-ranking members in the group. Even for Seo-jun, this lineup seemed reckless.

    “Are you sure about this?”

    “Yeah. Why? Is there a problem?”

    “Of course, there is. Think about Yoo Ara’s team. She picked two lower-ranked members but balanced it out with some skilled ones. With this lineup, we’re bound to fall behind in dungeon clearing speed.”

    Seojun smirked confidently.

    “It’s fine. I’ve thought it through. There’s always a margin for unexpected variables.”

    “Unexpected variables?”

    “Yeah. Like you not living up to my expectations.”

    “…What?”

    What was that supposed to mean?

    “Wait, are you seriously betting on me just because I didn’t totally bomb the last test?”

    “Exactly. That’s what I’m counting on.”

    “…”

    I couldn’t deny I wasn’t the weakest, but my limited mana reserves meant I wasn’t fit for prolonged combat. In a dungeon, where endurance was crucial, I might as well be dead weight.

    “I can’t fight for long. My mana won’t last.”

    “I know. I saw it during the test.”

    “Then why are you so confident?”

    “You only need to fight when it really matters.”

    What kind of logic was that?

    Still, he sounded convinced, so I sighed and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

    “Fine. You’re the team leader, so it’s your call.”

    “It’ll work out. Everyone on the team has decent fundamentals.”

    “…Okay.”

    Seo-jun seemed utterly self-assured.

    In my past life, I might have trusted him completely. But now? I couldn’t bring myself to have that same blind faith.

    Not after what had happened the last time I’d relied on him.

    Something about this just didn’t sit right.

  • A doomsday-level returnee devours calamities Chapter 10

    Taeseong asked again, his curiosity piqued. It was the first time he had heard such a name, likely unfamiliar even if he had retained his memory. Unless one was fond of ghost stories or folklore, the term would seem utterly alien.

    “Dueokshin…?”

    “That’s right. Humans call me that.”

    Dueokshin, or Dueoksini.

    Commonly mistaken as the leader of goblins, this was a misconception, spread and distorted as stories spread and mutated across the internet and among gossip-loving storytellers.

    “What does it mean?”

    “Exactly what it sounds like—a spirit that crushes human skulls.”

    Taeseong murmured to himself, “A spirit that crushes human skulls…” The name was unfamiliar, but undeniably intriguing. The concept of such a spirit and its chilling nickname caught his attention.

    “And you, human—what is your name?”

    “Lee Taeseong.”

    “Lee Taeseong… Such a lofty name for a mere human.”

    Ignoring the obscure remark, Taeseong voiced another question that had formed in his mind.

    “Why couldn’t you crush my skull, then?”

    The question was blunt, almost audacious. Considering the fact that administrators had been killed in the very room where they were speaking, Taeseong’s inquiry bordered on reckless.

    The boy—no, Dueokshin—smirked. It was laughable, the absurdity of the question itself. But the query also reinforced what he had already realized.

    This human was not afraid of him. Not in the slightest.

    And for that reason, no matter how much effort he exerted, he could not kill this man.

    “It’s because you don’t fear me.”

    “Because I don’t fear you? What does that have to do with you being unable to crush my skull?”

    “You are unlike other humans. Most humans feel fear simply by facing me. They tremble at the realization of my existence, at encountering something beyond their comprehension. Their thoughts turn to death, and they succumb to terror.”

    “Go on.”

    “But you… you feel no fear of me at all. More precisely, you seem to lack any fear of death altogether. The world is inherently incomprehensible. Trying to understand the incomprehensible is pointless, much like humans themselves. Most are nothing more than worthless worms. Yet, once in a while, anomalies like you or that other one appear—creatures that surpass the limitations of your species.”

    “That other one? So I’m not the only human like this you’ve encountered?”

    “In all my time on this earth, there have been only two humans who did not fear me: you, Lee Taeseong, and a lunatic who fancied himself a righteous thief. Truthfully, I’m still unsure about him. He was undoubtedly human, but he didn’t seem like one. Honestly, he was a true monster—just wearing human skin.”

    “Then doesn’t that make him no different from you? Was he even human to begin with?”

    “Not much different, perhaps. But he was certainly human. As I said, he possessed a strength so extraordinary it defied belief, but human nonetheless. And yet, I’d say you give off an even stranger aura. Are you sure you’re human?”

    Taeseong was reminded of a similar question he had been asked before.

    “Oh, Pinocchio… Now that I think about it, there was that incident,” he thought.

    When Oh Haeyoung had asked him if he was human, he had answered yes. Yet, Pinocchio’s nose had grown longer.

    “I am. No doubt about it.”

    His parents had birthed him, and his younger sister was living proof of his humanity. If he wasn’t human, what else could he possibly be?

    “Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

    Though the boy’s eyes were covered, Taeseong felt as though he was being examined under an intense gaze.

    “Perhaps. But at the very least, I think of myself as human. If I’m not, I suppose the truth will come out eventually.”

    Taeseong responded with honesty.

    He might not be human. But so what?

    It wasn’t something he could determine right now, and even if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t change much. With no memory of who he was, he had far more pressing concerns.

    “I wonder, though. Why is it that neither you nor that thief fear me?”

    “Why would I?”

    He had no other answer. He didn’t understand why one would need to fear this. The very premise of the question was lost on him.

    “I was born from the fear of humans. Death is my father; despair, my mother. I was nurtured by fear and instigated fear throughout the world.

    To humanity, I am an unavoidable calamity. Do you think a mere human can resist the rain or stop the wind?”

    “……”

    “From the beginning of time, when humans encounter the unknown, their first reaction is fear. Fear of unseen disasters, fear of strange creatures, fear of mysterious illnesses, fear of inexplicable headaches. It was from such fears that I, Dueokshin, was born. If you are truly human, facing me should trigger an instinctive terror within you. Do you believe a human can stand before a natural disaster and feel nothing?”

    “Fear… So that’s your essence. In simple terms, those who fear you die?”

    “That’s right.”

    “So that’s why the team leader, the other members, and even the administrators who entered this room all died?”

    “Indeed. They all feared me.”

    “By that logic, as long as I don’t feel fear toward you, you’re powerless against me.”

    “Correct.”

    “Why are you telling me this so freely? What’s in it for you? Surely, you gain nothing by revealing such a weakness.”

    The boy burst into laughter, catching Taeseong off guard.

    “What’s so funny?”

    “Did you not hear what I just said? I am calamity itself. I am fear. Knowing what I am won’t stop humans from fearing me. Do you think humans wouldn’t be afraid of an earthquake or a typhoon just because they know it’s coming? Don’t delude yourself. Just because you’re special doesn’t mean others are, too.”

    “A spirit born from fear with such a loose tongue. How amusing.”

    “What did you just say?”

    “Oh, you heard me? My apologies if you did.”

    Infuriated, the boy wished more than anything to crush Taeseong’s skull at that moment. But he couldn’t. Taeseong felt not the slightest trace of fear.

    “I will kill you someday.”

    “Do your best.”

    Taeseong stared at the boy, his thoughts racing.

    “Still… What on earth is that thing?”

    Taeseong noticed something that had been bothering him ever since he entered the room and began speaking with Dueokshin.

    The glimmering crystal embedded in the ghost’s chest.

    It looked like a tiny, glowing dot that constantly shimmered. Staring at it caused Taeseong’s heart to resonate strangely, beating as if in response.

    He hadn’t noticed it during their first battle in the abandoned hospital. Taeseong didn’t know why he could suddenly see it now, but one thing was certain.

    He needed to remove it.

    And…

    He needed to consume it.

    “What… What are you doing all of a sudden…?”

    This wasn’t a decision—it was primal instinct.

    By the time he realized what was happening, his body had already acted on its own.

    “Gaaaahhhh!”

    Dueokshin, who hadn’t so much as uttered a sound before, let out an anguished scream, filled with pain. Even though an evil spirit like him wasn’t supposed to feel pain.

    “It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!”

    The spirit writhed and twisted in torment, his body trembling violently.

    “It hurts so muchhhhh!”

    But Taeseong didn’t stop. He continued what he was doing, ignoring Dueokshin’s agonized cries. His mind was still rational, but his body was no longer under his control.

    All that drove him now was a instinct, unshakable urge: this had to be done.

    Taeseong tore the crystal from Dueokshin’s chest. Without hesitation, he brought it to his mouth.

    “… …”

    Crunch.

    The moment his teeth crushed the crystal, Taeseong felt as though his entire body was being consumed by fire. It was as if he’d been thrown into the flames of hell itself. The pain was so agonizing that he doubted even the torments of the underworld could surpass it.

    But he didn’t utter a single groan.

    Instead, he kept chewing. And when he was done, he swallowed.

    Gulp.

    And at that instant, countless visions flooded Taeseong’s mind.

    Memories.

    They were fragments of the memories he’d lost.

    A man with a weary, battle-worn face.

    Though his features were sharper and darker than now, it was undeniably Taeseong.

    Drenched in blood, he ascended a snow-covered mountain, his body weighed down by an arsenal of weapons strapped to his back and waist. He looked like a vengeful spirit or a demon from hell.

    “Hah… Hah… This is really getting old.”

    The mountain he climbed was the tallest in this world, its slopes blanketed in pristine snow that sparkled blindingly under the sun. The scenery was breathtaking, yet no one in their right mind would dare set foot here.

    The mountain was infamous not for its height, but for its danger.

    The Demonic Abyss.

    That was its other name.

    From the base of the mountain to its peak, the slopes teemed with all manner of terrifying creatures. The higher one climbed, the more numerous the monsters became, their strength and ferocity multiplying exponentially.

    No human would voluntarily enter this mountain unless they wished for death.

    No one—until Taeseong.

    “Finally.”

    At the summit, Taeseong drew a sword from his waist and swung it into the empty air.

    “… …”

    Ten seconds passed, and nothing happened. Yet Taeseong remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the space where his sword had struck.

    Then it appeared.

    The air cracked open along the path of his swing, revealing a colossal gate.

    Taeseong had cleaved through the eternal ice that sealed it shut.

    With no hesitation, he opened the gate and stepped through.

    Step. Step.

    The straight path stretched endlessly before him.

    How long had he walked?

    A day? Two?

    Perhaps even longer. But Taeseong had no concept of time.

    Eventually, he reached his destination.

    The first thing he saw was a massive paw—so enormous it defied belief.

    Its sheer size made it hard to believe it was part of a living being. Taeseong briefly doubted if this could even be called a “paw.” It felt more like he was standing before the side of a mountain.

    But then he saw the claws.

    Each claw was as large as a rocky peak, and upon closer inspection, their nature as claws became unmistakable.

    Taeseong tilted his head back to look up. Even then, the creature’s head was too far away to see.

    Had it not been bound, this entity would have been impossible for him to even gaze upon like this. Taeseong knew this all too well.

    Which is why he understood that he had only one chance.

    “Oh ancient wolf, the eldest of your kind…

    Please return me to the world I belong to.”