Author: Renegade

  • A doomsday-level returnee devours calamities Chapter 5

    “Found me? Are you talking to me?”

    “Wolf.”

    “Wolf? What are you talking about all of a sudden? Do you know me?”

    “…”

    Taeseong questioned her, but the woman didn’t respond further. She just stared at him with her emotionless eyes.

    ‘Is she mentally ill?’

    Confused, Taeseong glanced toward Oh Haeyoung, but her reaction was no different from his—perhaps even more bewildered.

    ‘What kind of nonsense is this all of a sudden?’

    Is she saying all men are wolves? Or is she accusing me of looking at her lecherously? Could she possibly be using that as a pretext to get rid of me?

    As his mind wandered through absurd thoughts, the woman tapped the mirror with her finger.

    “…”

    It seemed she was telling him to focus on the mirror instead of his thoughts.

    ‘She’s so self-centered.’

    Taeseong shook off his distractions and turned his attention to the mirror.

    A mirror that reveals the essence.

    Taeseong didn’t fully understand what he was, either. He assumed he was human but couldn’t be sure. Perhaps he was an alien from some distant planet, with purple blood coursing through his veins while resembling a human on the surface.

    ‘Well… having experienced dimensional travel, I’m already far removed from being an ordinary human.’

    “Do I just need to look at it like this?”

    The woman nodded.

    Taeseong stared into the mirror for about ten seconds, but nothing happened. All it reflected was his own face—a face with delicate features for a man. Though his sharp eyes gave off a somewhat fierce impression, he was close to being handsome.

    ‘No matter how much I sleep, these dark circles never go away.’

    As idle thoughts filled his mind, Taeseong suddenly felt his strength diminishing.

    Alarmed by the unexpected phenomenon, he tried to steady himself, but his uncooperative body refused to move as he wished.

    “What the hell is going on…”

    His legs wobbled, and the woman’s figure before him blurred into three.

    He was gasping for air, his head spinning.

    “Haah… haah…”

    Supporting himself with one hand on the floor, he barely registered Haeyoung’s faint voice calling out to him. She seemed to be shouting something, but he couldn’t make out the words.

    “What did you… do to my body…”

    Those were his last words before losing consciousness.


    Haeyoung, knowing what was happening, didn’t take any action. Instead, she was surprised by an unexpected difference.

    “Is it normal for him to last this long? It’s been at least 15 seconds, hasn’t it?”

    In response to her question, the woman shook her head.

    “Thought so… I’m not mistaken, right?”

    The woman nodded.

    “Then why could Taeseong hold out that long? Oh, is that an inappropriate question?”

    “Willpower.”

    “Willpower? Ah, so his mental strength must be incredible. Thank you for explaining!”

    When Haeyoung bowed deeply, the woman’s lips curled into a slight smile before returning to her usual stoic expression.

    Haeyoung had a personal reason for her curiosity. She, too, had undergone the same test, only to faint as soon as she saw the mirror. Yet Taeseong lasted over 15 seconds, which left her puzzled.

    Naturally, Haeyoung, like every “administrator” here, was an individual entity. Though her test had some differences in detail, the core evaluation process was the same.

    Every “administrator” in this place was an individual entity. The only reason they were not isolated like the other entities was that they had been deemed suitable. At their core, they were not fundamentally different.

    The office workers handling administrative tasks, however, were entirely ordinary humans without any abilities.

    “Taeseong, see you later!”


    All around was enveloped in pitch-black darkness.

    If there was such a thing as an abyss, this must be it.

    An endless fall into a lightless void.

    Where it led, he could not know.

    Who he was, he did not know. Why he was here, he did not know.

    Suspended in a world of forgotten stillness, he drifted, observing and contemplating, maintaining a faint sense of self.

    Like a lone soul abandoned in a boundless, windless ocean.

    Or perhaps such a vast and immense sea could not even exist.

    This place was chillingly cold and eerily silent.

    “…”

    A world of nothingness.

    Suddenly, a shiver of fear coursed through him.

    How much time had passed?

    A day? A week?

    A month? A year?

    A century? A millennium?

    A hundred millennia?

    Perhaps an eternity had passed—an incomprehensible amount of time beyond human reasoning.

    “Hu…man.”

    After countless cycles of thought, his faint self-awareness resurfaced, reminding him that he had been human.

    At that moment, a distant point of light flickered. It was so far away that gauging its distance seemed impossible, yet it also felt impossibly close.

    Light.

    Then, as if resonating in unison, thousands, millions of points began to shine.

    Through the darkness, countless stars gleamed.

    Only then did Taesung realize where he was.

    “…”

    At the heart of the vast expanse of the universe.

    Floating in the unknown center of an endlessly expanding cosmos.

    Multicolored waves of light converged and swirled into a single entity.

    Though it soon took form, Taeseong, a mere human, could not comprehend what it was.

    He was but a speck of dust drifting in this place.

    Recognizing it as a transcendent being with will, not merely a phenomenon, was enough to make every cell in his body scream in terror.

    Reverence.

    That was the only word that could describe what he felt.

    Awe-inspiring, brilliant, terrifying, and incomprehensible.

    “…”

    It opened its mouth—or at least, there was no better word to describe it.

    Its size surpassed oceans, towering over mountains. Even these comparisons fell short, confined by the limits of his human imagination.

    …Gulp.

    The being devoured him, and only then did he realize—

    The entire universe was but a part of its body.


    “Taeseong! Taeseong! Are you awake?”

    When he opened his eyes, Haeyoung’s face was the first thing he saw, filled with uncharacteristic worry.

    “Where… am I?”

    “A temporary quarantine facility. Are you feeling okay?”

    His back was soaked with sweat, as if he had been submerged in water.

    ‘Was that a dream?’

    His trembling hand clutched his chest as he took slow, deep breaths to calm himself.

    Once he had steadied himself, he asked Haeyoung, “How long was I out?”

    “…A week.”

    “A week?”

    “Yes…”

    “Is it normal to be unconscious for a week after taking this test?”

    “…Most people are out for a day at most. I don’t know why, but you seem to have lasted much longer.”

    He had assumed only a few hours had passed, but hearing it had been a week left him stunned. Still, there was something even more pressing.

    “What were the results of the test?”

    “You passed… but…”

    “But what?”

    Haeyoung hesitated, her unease evident.

    “That is…”

    The quarantine room door opened as if on signal.

    “Haeyoung, I’ll explain the rest. Could you step out for a moment?”

    “…Yes.”

    Casting a worried glance at Taeseong, Haeyoung reluctantly left the room. From her expression, Taeseong could sense it—

    Something had gone terribly, catastrophically wrong.

    “Long time no see, Taeseong.”

    “…It has been a while.”

    Harin sat down at the table, habitually lighting a cigarette. Noticing Taeseong, she offered one.

    “Would you like one?”

    “…Thanks.”

    He accepted it without hesitation.

    Even if his memories were hazy, his body hadn’t forgotten how to smoke.

    “…”

    “…”

    Awkward silence.

    Inside the temporary isolation room, the only sounds were the occasional crackling of burning tobacco and their periodic breathing.

    Harin, having finished her cigarette, broke the silence.

    “Entity name: White Snow Queen. Gamma-class administrator. One of only three hundred rare individuals in the Korean branch. She’s also the one overseeing your test, Mr. Lee Taeseong.”

    “Why bring that up all of a sudden?”

    “When you saw her, did nothing come to mind?”

    “What are you talking about…?”

    “Doesn’t the name White Snow Queen evoke anything?”

    “I don’t know.”

    Harin sighed, muttering, “I suppose it’s possible, given the memory loss.” Then, with a serious expression, she continued.

    “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.”

    “A fairy tale?”

    Harin nodded.

    “Yes. She claims to be Snow White from that fairy tale.”

    “She claims she’s a fictional character? That’s absurd—”

    “Whether it makes sense or not isn’t the issue. The point is that someone claiming to be a fairy-tale character exists and actually possesses extraordinary abilities.”

    “Why are you telling me this?”

    “Isn’t it fascinating? That fairy-tale characters exist and wield mysterious powers?”

    “…”

    A sense of dread washed over him.

    “In this world, there are countless incomprehensible beings that defy conventional logic. And we are perpetually short on manpower.”

    “…”

    “Mr. Lee, will you lend us your strength—”

    Taeseong cut her off.

    “Hold on. Let me speak first.”

    Though momentarily flustered, Harin quickly regained her composure.

    “Go ahead.”

    Taeseong spoke slowly.

    “I want to be a manager of the Tree.”

    Harin’s eyes widened.

    “…That’s unexpected. I didn’t think you’d bring it up yourself.”

    “But I have conditions.”

    “Conditions?”

    “The contract period is two years. After that, it will be subject to mutual agreement.”

    Harin smiled, intrigued.

    “And?”

    “During that time, the Tree must provide full support to help me recover my lost memories and find my family.”

    “And why should we do that?”

    “Because I believe I’m worth it.”

    “This feels less like a request and more like a threat. Is that just my imagination?”

    “Your imagination.”

    “And what if we refuse?”

    “Then I’ll consider alternatives.”

    For a fleeting moment, Taeseong deliberated.

    Was it the right choice to kill the woman before him or take her hostage?

    ‘At this range, it’s enough. Twist her neck and crush her temple immediately. After that…’

    Harin’s calm voice interrupted his thoughts. Her expression showed not the slightest disturbance.

    “I’d advise against any reckless ideas.”

    “…Can you read minds?”

    “If I could, would I still be sitting here? Look in the mirror and see the expression you’re wearing.”

    He had only been weighing his options. He had no intention of acting on them.

    “Think of it as self-defense.”

    “You’re surprisingly brazen. Still, it was wise not to act. You’d have regretted it. Or, well, that’s something you’d need to be alive to feel.”

    Though her words were grim, Taeseong brushed them off.

    “What are the test results?”

    “Unfortunately, you failed by one point. Your administrator, Oh Haeyoung, submitted a report arguing you’re a safe entity, but the higher-ups didn’t accept it.”

    As expected.

    “If I don’t become a manager, I’ll be either contained or terminated as an entity.”

    “Correct.”

    Harin didn’t deny it.

    “Still, you offered to become a manager, didn’t you? I was honestly surprised, but it’s not a bad deal from our perspective. We’ll accept your proposal. Two years, as you said. During that time, work under the Tree and contribute to the world. In return, we’ll fully support your requests.”

    “Fine.”

    “Oh, and of course, you’ll receive a normal salary. If needed, we can also provide housing and meals.”

    “…”

    “But from now on, as a manager of the Tree, you must adhere to company regulations. Any violations will result in warnings, and repeated offenses will force us to act according to protocol.”

    “Protocol, huh. Got it. Mind if I say something?”

    “Go ahead.”

    “If you break the terms of our contract or play games with me… you’ll regret it. I’ll make sure of it.”

    His tone carried an unshakable certainty, sending chills through Harin. Unconsciously, she swallowed hard before replying.

    “Understood.”

    “By the way, what’s my rank?”

    “Epsilon. As you know, it’s the lowest rank.”

    “I see.”

    Despite having toyed with Delta-class administrator Oh Haeyoung, Taeseong showed no interest in his rank.

    Moments later, staff arrived to escort him away.

    As of this moment, he was no longer an “isolated entity” but a “manager,” so there was no reason for him to remain.

    Alone in the isolation room, Harin finally let out a sigh of relief.

    “Hah…”

    Her back, damp with cold sweat, clung uncomfortably to her shirt.

    Her trembling hands reached instinctively for another cigarette. Though she had maintained a composed façade in front of Taeseong, she had desperately wanted to flee the entire time.

    ‘Just looking at him made my knees weak. Is that thing even human?’

    Harin buried her head in her hands, ruffling her hair in frustration.

    “Hah… This place is such a mess. I should really just quit.”

    Pulling out a document from her pocket, she reviewed it again, doubting her own eyes despite having read it countless times.

    No. 0625
    Sigma-level dangerous entity
    Entity Name: The Returned, Lee Taeseong
    Disguised Rank: Epsilon

    “Sigma-level… It actually exists.”

    In over a decade of working here, she had never encountered a Sigma-class entity.

    No matter how much she pondered why he was assigned such a rank, she couldn’t reach a conclusion. After all, the authority to make such decisions rested solely with the higher-ups.

    She was merely an executor of orders.

    The directives from above were clear:

    1. Officially announce the Returned, Lee Taeseong, as an Epsilon-class entity.
    2. By any means necessary, bind him to the Tree.

    “‘Risk level: immeasurable. Further evaluation required’…”

  • About a Dating Sim Where Dating Is Impossible Chapter 24

    [Theodoros]

    The man most displeased by the recent uproar, which shook the empire and the Balkans, was none other than Theodoros.

    As the second imperial prince, next in line for the throne after John, he should have been outraged by Serbia’s diplomatic offense in abruptly canceling the marriage arrangement.

    However, Theodoros’ heart was calmer than ever.

    In fact, it was closer to joy. No one was more pleased with Konstantinos’ decision than Theodoros himself.

    “Everything is going smoothly, very smoothly.”

    Had the marriage with the Kantakouzenos family been successful, none would have been closer to the throne than Konstantinos.
    But now the circumstances had changed. The prideful subjects and nobles of the empire would not tolerate Serbia’s impudent demands and Konstantinos’ agreement. What if the most noble victims of Serbia’s sudden whimsy were to unite?

    With legitimacy and cause, he could gain strong support and rapidly expand his modest power.

    He never entertained the thought of rejection. The Kantakouzenos family had long sought to strengthen their ties with the imperial family. The wishes of the young lady in question were insignificant in the face of such grand historical movements.

    “Come to think of it, they say the Kantakouzenos lady is quite beautiful.”

    If they were to be united, it would certainly be preferable if she were lovely. Theodoros, with a light laugh, began to indulge in pleasant imaginings.

    [John]

    The reign of Manuel, who had once upheld the empire, was coming to an end.

    Now, the aged and weary emperor looked up at his successor, who would lead a new era. He was astonished by the change in his son, who had once known only how to smile brightly.

    “Did you have to drive him so hard?”

    Few could welcome the discord between their children. Manuel, a father before he was an emperor, found it difficult to accept. Yet, who could blame John, who stood as a brother?

    It was Konstantinos, aiming for the throne, who had made the first move. John, defending the throne, retorted sharply to his father’s defense of Konstantinos.

    “Father, I am the one who must protect the throne. It was precisely because we are brothers that this was necessary.”

    “How can you doubt his dedication to the empire? You, more than anyone, have seen and supported Konstantinos’ loyalty.”

    His words seemed to shield Konstantinos to the end.

    Why would his father say such things? How could he maintain a facade of innocence after orchestrating these events?

    Eventually, John unleashed the anger he had been harboring toward his father.

    “Did you not push him to the point where I had to test whether it was loyalty or ambition…?”

    For years, they had not spoken, yet never doubted each other’s hearts. Who could have predicted that trust would crumble upon meeting, particularly over the rightful inheritance?

    “You trusted him because you had watched over him for so long, but I am different. To protect my rights and duties, I have no choice but to suspect those close to me. And thanks to you granting Konstantinos immense power, I had to be even more cautious.”

    “It was because I had confidence, John.”

    “Indeed! Because you had that confidence, you granted Konstantinos that power. It was a sound judgment. Everyone praises that choice. But just as you had confidence and empowered him, I needed to believe that Konstantinos would not betray me.”

    John clutched his chest as if trying to rip it apart. How ideal it would be to trust someone without any price.

    However, to gain the right to possess everything, one must bear the duty to doubt everything.

    “I merely needed the confidence you spoke of, Father.”

    John’s piercing blue eyes met his father’s.

    Manuel responded with silence.

    Are you speechless? Disappointed, John turned away from Manuel and approached the window.

    The awkward silence between father and son stretched on. After a while, Manuel, swimming in anguish, lowered his head.

    “…What will you do now? The alliance between Kantakouzenos and Konstantinos you desired will not come to pass. Instead, Konstantinos has secured Serbia.”

    “Konstantinos will never seek the throne until he has driven out the Turks. His choices were made with that in mind, as was the severing of ties.”

    “And the poor Kantakouzenos lady?”

    Even John, who had begun to display his qualities as a ruler, hesitated for a moment. A poor woman, her life ensnared by a man wholly devoted to the salvation of the empire, had ultimately become wretched. Yet, the fate of a noblewoman seldom flowed according to her own desires. With time, it would resolve itself. John slowly parted his lips.

    “I will give her to Theodoros. Along with the title of designated regent, I will make her his, showing that I am a better partner than Konstantinos.”

    “You once asked how cruel you could be to Konstantinos.”

    “Yes, I did. And I saw Konstantinos become astoundingly cruel in pursuit of his goals.”

    Manuel’s passive attempts to restrain him were no match for John’s firm resolve. As soon as he finished speaking, John slowly turned to his father, his expression no longer that of a son but of an emperor.

    “I will protect this throne. From the Turks and from my ambitious brothers.”


    Under the crescent banner, there are those who wielded their swords to fulfill the prophecy of the Prophet Muhammad.

    Since the time of the first Osman, the Turks, with their outstanding leadership, had established a vast empire encompassing the Balkans and Asia Minor. Though they suffered a dreadful division due to the unforeseen onslaught of Timur, even that was put to rest under the name of the current Sultan, Mehmed I. Now, the Turks desired but one thing: to inherit the legacy of the thousand-year empire.

    To fulfill the prophecy spoken by the Prophet was the duty and hope of all Muslims.

    “Yet, Father, it seems you have forsaken your rightful duties as a Muslim.”

    The Sultan gazed down at the imposing prince before him and sighed. How could a son resemble his father so closely? Bayezid, the conqueror, fierce and merciless to infidels. His son’s name was Murad, and he had inherited that very temperament.

    “Murad, you urge me to break an oath I swore before my foster father. Do not speak foolishly. You know that an oath taken in the name of God cannot be broken.”

    “How can you claim to follow God when you disregard the words of the Prophet? How could you revere such a man as your father? If that oath truly hinders you from fulfilling the prophecy, then the name of Sultan exists for one purpose alone.”

    Mehmed could not find words to counter his son’s forceful spirit.

    He did not feel ashamed or humiliated. Even Mehmed, mild in nature, was a conqueror by blood and knew he could not overcome a son armed with faith.

    “It is time to fulfill that mission. Pass the title of Sultan to me.”

    …Even so, Mehmed was also a son of Osman and the offspring of the great ruler Bayezid. To step aside without resistance would be disgraceful.

    “I am also a son of Osman and have wielded the sword. Do not think I will relinquish it easily. Never forget where you came from.”

    Unfortunately, it was a warning that had no effect on Murad. Turning away coldly, Murad addressed his father in a detached tone.

    “The life of a slave can be ended with a few coins. So too can the life of a noble Sultan.”

    They were no longer father and son. As rivals vying for the same position, Murad had already made his decision.


    TL : I don’t know why Mehmed I considers Manuel II his foster father, as it is historically inaccurate. Maybe I am leaning more towards real-world history than realizing it’s alternate history, even though most of the characters are real people.

  • Logging Out Is Too Hard Chapter 4

    “That’s impossible.”

    Contrary to his hopes, Raul’s response was curt and unwavering.

    “Why is that?”

    Woojin asked, his expression betraying confusion.

    “My swordsmanship isn’t something just anyone can learn. It’s a legacy skill. Still interested?”

    ‘Legacy skill? What’s that?’

    “…Of course.”

    Woojin answered cautiously.

    A chill ran down his spine. Raul exuded a murderous intent so oppressive that Woojin’s body trembled involuntarily.

    “You really don’t know, do you?”

    The lethal aura receded as Raul nodded to himself.

    “I couldn’t believe your talk of coming from another world, but seeing you now, it’s clear you’re not from here.”

    “…What?”

    “A legacy skill is a unique-grade technique that only one person can master at a time,” Raul explained.

    With a smooth motion, he drew his sword.

    “I should’ve guessed from your lack of reaction when I mentioned being a first-grade adventurer.”

    Despite the countless wolves the blade had cleaved, its edge remained pristine.

    “A first-grade adventurer?”

    Raul spoke in a low tone.

    “It’s a title granted only to those who’ve successfully hunted a dragon.”

    “A dragon?”

    Woojin couldn’t hide his shock.

    A dragon slayer.

    In Evil Tale, no player had reached their first job advancement yet, so the title existed only as speculation on official forums.

    It was tied to a hidden third-tier class: Dragon Hunter, unlocked only after completing a specific quest.

    To think such a figure stood before him now—Woojin could hardly believe it.

    “I didn’t realize you were such a remarkable person.”

    “Ha, not remarkable. It’s just faded glory from the past. These days, I fear wolves more than dragons.”

    “…What?”

    “Ambition was my downfall.”

    Raul loosened the straps of his armor, revealing his collarbone and torso, scarred with deep, festering wounds.

    “…!!”

    “I foolishly reached for something I shouldn’t have.”

    “What was it?”

    “The heart of a dragon.”

    Raul laughed bitterly.

    “The dragon’s power is slowly devouring me. One day, it’ll consume me entirely.”

    The Dragon Heart.

    Renowned as the elixir containing the strongest power in existence, yet no one had discovered how to refine it.

    “Wasn’t that reckless? With your strength, why would you…”

    “Because it still wasn’t enough.”

    “…I see.”

    “You and I aren’t so different.”

    Woojin fell silent at Raul’s words.

    The difference lay only in the scale of their ambitions.

    Click—.

    Raul held out his sword to Woojin.

    “Grab it.”

    With trembling hands, Woojin cautiously grasped the hilt.

    K-KRAKKA-KA-BOOM―――!!

    The instant he touched it, his mind erupted as though struck by lightning.

    Memories of countless battles flashed through his consciousness, imprinting themselves as if they were his own.

    “Gah?!!”

    He staggered back, gasping in shock.

    “This… What is this?”

    Woojin stared at Raul with wide eyes.

    “Those are thirty years’ worth of my memories, spent hunting dragons. That’s what a legacy skill is. It’s not just about learning techniques—you inherit the experience and life of its master.”

    Raul smirked faintly, as though expecting his reaction.

    “Dragon Sky. My life’s work, embodied in my swordsmanship.”

    A soft hum resonated from Raul’s blade as it emitted a faint glow.

    “Ha… The only time someone inherits such memories is when the master dies.”

    Raul stood up, brushing off the dirt from his clothes.

    “Sorry, but I can’t teach you my sword yet. I’m not ready to die.”

    At the cave’s entrance, the morning light spilled in, framing his solitary figure.

    Had it not been for the kindness of this stranger, Woojin might have perished, forgotten in this different world.

    ‘Yeah, desiring even his life would be sheer arrogance.’

    “Is there no cure?”

    Raul shook his head.

    “Perhaps. They say there’s a high priestess named Loren on the northern isle of the Lion King. If anyone can, it’s her.”

    Though the dragon’s power was killing him, his eyes still burned with determination.

    “Do you have a destination?”

    Woojin shook his head.

    In Evil Tale, the goal was to conquer the Labyrinth Tower, but in this world, there were no remaining floors to clear. The only floor stood high in the sky, untouchable.

    “Then why not come with me? You’ve got sharp eyes and decent aptitude. While I can’t teach you Dragon Sky, I can train your fundamentals on our way to the Lion King’s fortress.”

    It was a tempting offer.

    The Dark Forest was vast, teeming with goblins, orcs, and creatures far deadlier than wolves.

    Could he survive alone?

    Recalling the wounds left by the wolves, Woojin nodded.

    Next time, those fangs might pierce his throat.

    “Thank you.”

    The best way for the weak to survive was to stay close to the strong.


    The forest path seemed endless.

    By the time the sun set, the oppressive darkness returned, suffocating them.

    [Keeeng!!!]

    Woojin’s sword sliced clean through the gnoll’s neck.

    “Lower your stance. Your sword tip still wavers. If you’re aiming for my swordsmanship, master the basics first.”

    Hearing Raul’s words from behind, Woojin gritted his teeth and turned to the remaining gnolls, cutting them down in quick succession.

    “Huff… Huff…”

    Three gnoll corpses fell at his feet in an instant.

    ‘This is just a beginner’s area…’

    Yet it was grueling.

    The towering trees and occasional cries of beasts mixed the air with an oppressive weight.

    “No runes.”

    Woojin checked the monster corpses and stood up, his expression calm.

    “It seems my luck ran out after the first day. I haven’t found any since.”

    Raul chuckled.

    “You’re right. That night, the moon was bright. Such nights bring more runes.”

    ‘A time-based effect?’

    In Evil Tale, there was a similar mechanic—daytime reduced experience but weakened monsters, while nighttime increased both.

    “Let’s rest here for tonight.”

    At Raul’s suggestion, Woojin quietly gathered branches to start a fire.

    “You’re finally starting to hold the sword properly.”

    Raul commented, roasting gnoll meat over the flames.

    “But I still can’t use any skills.”

    “Don’t rush. Once your fundamentals are solid, they’ll come naturally.”

    On the third day of traversing the Shadow Forest, the two of them had hunted a significant number of monsters.

    Most of the hunting fell to Woojin.

    Since that day, Raul had been teaching him everything from how to grip a sword to footwork, posture, and all the basics necessary for survival.

    “Your world is currently attempting the tenth floor, you said?”

    “Yes. Unlike before, this time it’s a large-scale assault.”

    Up to the ninth floor, instance dungeons could be cleared by small parties, but the tenth floor was different.

    It required a raid format with at least ten participants. Woojin remembered reading on the community forums that the renowned [Phoenix Corps] of Kergah, known as the strongest guild, was leading the charge.

    “They may have already cleared it by now,” Woojin said.

    “This world has little interest in clearing the Tower. The faster it’s cleared, the grimmer things become,” Raul replied.

    At Raul’s words, Woojin quietly gazed at the distant floating castle of the Tower’s final 100th floor.

    ‘The game’s conclusion couldn’t turn out like this… could it?’

    The thought sent shivers down his spine.

    ‘How can something like this even be possible?’

    A world identical to the game existing in reality—no matter how much he thought about it, it defied belief.

    ‘But unless I’ve gone insane…’

    One question lingered in his mind.

    How could Evil Tale create a world that was an exact replica of this one?

    ‘Evil Tale wasn’t created by humans.’

    The tagline used in the game’s early marketing campaigns resurfaced in his memory:

    “The first-ever virtual reality game created by autonomous AI, [Ethan].”

    ‘A game created by artificial intelligence.’

    While there were plenty of rumors and debates at first, all criticism ceased once the game launched. Its world-building was so flawless that no one could find fault with it.

    But Woojin could tell. If this other world was truly real…

    ‘The AI didn’t create a perfect world.’

    All Evil Tale had done was replicate a pre-existing one.

    ‘If that’s the case…’

    Gulp. Woojin swallowed nervously.

    Perhaps the key to resolving everything that had happened to him lay there.

    ‘The AI, [Ethan].’

    The game, this world, and reality—all seemed connected by this singular existence.

    ‘I can see the path forward, at least a little.’

    The only problem was figuring out how to return.

    In the real world, the game was accessed through a capsule.

    ‘If this world is another version of reality…’

    Then returning would require a device similar to the capsule.

    But the absence of any obvious connection mechanism was a problem—there couldn’t be a capsule in this other world.

    “Can I ask you for a favor?” Raul suddenly said.

    “What is it?”

    Woojin turned to Raul after snapping out of his thoughts.

    “If you manage to return… and find yourself in the central continent, would you visit a small village called [Yorka]?”

    “The central continent, huh… Sure, though I’ll need to level up quite a bit before I can get there.”

    “There, you’ll find a small house with a green roof. A woman named Lea should be living there.”

    Woojin nodded at Raul’s request.

    “Could you tell her to watch out for colds?”

    “…Excuse me?”

    Surprised by the seemingly out-of-place request, Woojin stared at Raul.

    “My mother suffered from pneumonia her entire life.”

    Raul’s face softened as he shared a piece of his past. Woojin nodded quietly.

    “I’ll make sure she hears it.”

    Fifty years apart.

    While Woojin wrestled with the fear of an unknown future, those left behind in the past carried messages they wished to send forward.

    He still didn’t know if the game he’d return to was truly Raul’s past, but he couldn’t ignore a heartfelt request.

    “Thank you. I couldn’t ask for more.”

    Raul let out a deep sigh, as though relieved to have eased a long-held burden, and leaned back against a tree.

    “Don’t make it sound like a farewell speech,” Woojin added.

    “Cluck-cluck, my apologies. It’s just that from here on out, we’ll need to stay sharp.”

    At Raul’s words, Woojin steeled himself.

    They were heading west within the Shadow Forest.

    ‘If I recall, that’s where the goblins’ territory begins.’

    Though goblins weren’t particularly strong, they were cunning.

    Unlike most monsters, which were relentlessly aggressive, goblins knew how to retreat and even escape. In the game, they were infamous for being among the most persistent and annoying foes players had to deal with.

    “Don’t worry. I’ve faced goblins before.”

    “Goblins? That’s not what concerns me here,” Raul replied, his expression turning serious.

    “The Faceless Monster.”

    Woojin froze as a long-forgotten memory resurfaced.

    “Be careful. This is its domain.”

    Raul had warned him about it when they first met.

    “Forty years ago, shortly after the Tower appeared, a black sorcerer from Murenka created a monster here.”

    Raul lowered his stance, stepping cautiously.

    “At first, people thought it was just another typical creation of black magic… but what does it mean when a creature survives even now, with the Tower cleared up to the 99th floor?”

    Raul’s tone was heavier than ever.

    “It means no one has been able to kill it.”

    Gulp. Woojin swallowed again, his mouth dry.

    “Could it be…?”

    His voice trembled as he spoke.

    “Is that the Faceless Monster?”

    [Hrrrr…]

    A raspy, metallic breath echoed from the darkness.

    A shadow, darker than the surrounding gloom, emerged, revealing a rusted knight wielding a corroded sword.

    Creak.

    Its face, scarred as though burned, had no features—only two crimson glimmers stared back at them.

    “…Damn it!!!”

    The forest erupted in chaos once again.

  • The Second Coming of the Legendary Sword God Chapter 3

    My prediction was spot on.

    Standing in my path with despicable expressions were the triplets.

    The fourth-born, Tony de Strange, who would later become one of the continent’s five generals.

    The fifth, Johnny de Strange, who would rise as his loyal right-hand man and hunting dog.

    And the sixth, Ronnie de Strange, who would become the master of the slums, cleaning up their dirty deeds.

    In the future, these trash would form a gang called “Big Gang” and rebel against the family.

    Was it from this time?

    That those guys started tormenting me.

    The three of them were legitimate offspring of the main family. Unlike me, born of a concubine, their bloodline was slightly different.

    That said, they weren’t more talented than me. They simply had access to better education because their mother wielded influence in the capital.

    Still, among the seven direct siblings of the Strange family, these three couldn’t be ignored.

    “Hey, Verdin, why are you so quiet like a mute who swallowed honey?”

    “Quiet like a mute?”

    “Quiet like a mute?”

    Even after all this time, their voices were still insufferable.

    How could brats only six years old make such faces?

    Well…

    When I was five in my past life, I endured their bullying.

    I thought causing trouble with my older brothers would complicate things. Back then, I was intimidated by their group behavior.

    No matter how exceptional my talent was, I wasn’t sure I could beat them.

    Well, when my talent began to show more prominently at the age of nine, those three quieted down.

    But even after graduating from the academy, they occasionally targeted me, making them lifelong enemies.

    I’ll crush them now.

    Things are different this time around.

    I am stronger now. Stronger than the three of them combined.

    I know this for a fact.

    And even if I beat them senseless now, it wouldn’t cause a major issue.

    My father doesn’t concern himself with trivial matters like this.

    To him, it doesn’t matter whether someone is legitimate or a concubine’s child, a direct descendant or a collateral branch.

    He only keeps those who can survive in a world of survival of the fittest close to him.

    I know this well from experience—what he thinks and what drives him.

    If, by any chance, he intervenes in a fight between siblings, there’s only one reason.

    To observe the victor.

    Anyway, by threatening me now, those three have provided the justification for their own demise.

    They started this fight.

    I responded without any change in my expression.

    “Shut up.”

    The eldest of the triplets, Tony, tilted his head in disbelief.

    “Huh? What did you just say?”

    “What did you just say?”

    “What did you just say!!”

    Ronnie and Johnny echoed his words like a refrain.

    I shrugged slightly and pointed a finger at Tony.

    “I said, shut up.”

    Tony looked visibly startled by my reaction.

    It was understandable. Even the adults in the estate—nannies and knights alike—were intimidated by them.

    Seeing their younger brother, just a year younger, standing up to them so boldly must have left him dumbfounded.

    “…Have you lost your mind? Did you just tell your older brother to shut up?”

    “Hey, I think this punk’s lost it. We need to teach him a lesson.”

    “Yeah, how about we break his fingers? Or better yet, pull out all his teeth so he can’t talk nonsense again!”

    Could this really be the conversation of six-year-olds? They were truly asking to be put in their place.

    Tony stepped closer, pressuring me.

    “Verdin, aren’t you going to answer me? Have you gone mad? Ah, I get it now. It’s because you don’t have a mother, right? She died giving birth to you. Yeah, I guess being motherless makes you crazy!”

    After that, my response didn’t come from my mouth.

    It came from my fists.

    Tony’s vision went white, and with a dull thud, the sound of my punch echoed. It marked the beginning of a relentless barrage of blows.

    Blood dripped from his split lip, and a broken tooth fell to the ground.

    “Hurk.”

    Tony groaned, his face contorted in pain. Ronnie and Johnny tried to stop me, but their strength wasn’t enough.

    I wasn’t just strong—I had combat instincts honed on the battlefield. My experience was on a completely different level.

    Far beyond what kids their age could handle.

    “I’ll make sure you three never mess with me again.”

    In an instant, I struck each of their ribs and stomped on Tony’s chest. Grabbing Ronnie and Johnny by their heads, I smashed them together.

    A short, dull thud followed.

    “Argh!”

    “Argh!”

    Ronnie and Johnny clutched their heads in pain.

    “Verdin, you bastard!”

    Tony let out a scream and lunged at me.

    “Uaaaah! You’re dead, I swear!”

    In his desperation, he broke one of the family’s cardinal rules.

    In the estate, summoning a spiritual guardian without a valid reason was strictly forbidden. It could lead to summary punishment.

    This rule was personally established by the head of the family, Royce de Strange, and breaking it was out of the question for anyone who wished to remain in his good graces.

    But Tony, in his rage, summoned his spiritual guardian.

    Ssssssssss—

    A mist formed behind Tony, and a massive figure appeared.

    It was Gary, the King of the West, who once roamed the battlefield with a steel body and no armor.

    The towering man, with rippling muscles and a beard that reached his chest, glared at me.

    “You’re dead!”

    Tony wiped the blood from his face with his palm.

    Pointing at me with rage-filled eyes, he absorbed his spiritual guardian into his body.

    Shhhhk!

    In an instant, Tony’s body transformed into a muscular form.

    Foolish brat.

    He’s digging his own grave.

    He knows who my spiritual guardian is, yet he still dared to pull this stunt.

    “You summoned your guardian first.”


    A tower teeming with monsters so dangerous that even seasoned adventurers couldn’t approach it.

    And those who sought to grow stronger by receiving the blessings of the “god” who ruled this place.

    Among them was Lois de Strange. While he was training, a guardian knight from the main estate came to him.

    The reason was simple: to report the fight between Verdin and his brothers.

    “Verdin fought against three of them alone?”

    “Yes.”

    “And Tony summoned a spiritual guardian within the estate?”

    “…That is correct.”

    Lois stroked his chin with an intrigued expression.

    “Were there any fatalities?”

    “No, sir! Tony, Johnny, and Ronnie all suffered broken arms and legs, but their lives are not in danger.”

    “And Verdin?”

    “Young Master Verdin is completely unscathed.”

    “Is that so?”

    “Yes. According to the nanny, after the fight, he returned to his room and said, ‘It’s been a while since I’ve had fun. I’m hungry.’”

    Lois’s lips curled into a faint smile.

    But it was only for a moment. After a brief thought, his expression turned cold, and he spoke to the guardian knight.

    “Understood. Then go directly to Valentine and deliver the message.”

    “Are you referring to Lady Valentine?”

    “Yes. Since my training is not yet complete and I cannot go to the castle, inform her to take care of this matter on my behalf.”

    “…I understand.”

    “And, if someone attempted to use a spiritual guardian within the castle to harm another, they must face the consequences.”

    Lois handed the dagger at his waist to the knight with a meaningful expression.

    “Deliver this to Valentine as well.”


    A week had passed since the fight with my brother.

    As expected, Father showed no interest in the matter.

    I thought I might at least receive a warning, but there wasn’t a single response.

    Well, he’s someone who believes only the strong survive. To him, this kind of fight is likely nothing more than childish play or a way to learn survival skills.

    Those idiots… they could have died if they weren’t careful.

    Whoooosh!

    While I was lost in thought, my spiritual guardian, Siegfried, erupted into a massive flame, setting his body ablaze.

    I knew why he was acting this way. Right now, he and I were not bound by a contract.

    Despite that, I had used his power, so this was his way of expressing his dissatisfaction.

    I don’t have a choice right now.

    It wasn’t the time yet.

    There was a reason I hadn’t contracted with him. Contracting with a spiritual guardian comes with restrictions.

    Knights cannot learn mana after opening their aura.

    Similarly, mages cannot learn aura after opening their mana.

    When one contracts with a spiritual guardian, it naturally opens the latent pathway for energy, forcing one to choose between using mana or aura.

    At least, that’s how it’s been until now.

    I intended to master both mana and aura.

    That was why I had postponed my contract with Siegfried. It was a decision I had made, even if it was semi-forced upon him against his will.

    No one knows it yet, but soon, a new form of technique will emerge.

    A transcendent power that simultaneously utilizes both aura and mana.

    Of course, no one in this era possesses such a technique.

    It’s a method that can only emerge after the power struggle between our “Strange” family, known for swordsmanship, and the “Glazer” family, renowned for magic, has ended.

    Knights contract with spiritual guardians that grant aura after mastering mana.

    Mages contract with spiritual guardians that grant mana after mastering aura.

    By following this sequence, it becomes possible to house both energies within one body.

    In essence, knights and mages must share their awakening methods for it to work.

    And yet…

    Even if the method is known, only a rare few can simultaneously use aura and mana.

    To do so, one must separate the flows of the two energies into the head and the heart.

    Failure in this endeavor would result in one of the two bursting, leading to death.

    As a result, only those with extraordinary talent and keen senses capable of separating the two energy flows or those who learned the complex separation control techniques devised by the Glazer family’s archmage could achieve it.

    Of course, I can do both.

    Sssssss.

    I focused my mind and gathered energy into my palm. While I hadn’t mastered mana in my past life, I had learned how to release it.

    It was a method I had acquired while researching how to more effectively cut down mages.

    A faint, crawling blue vapor began to form but was quickly scattered by the breeze blowing in through the window.

    It was still far from being called mana. Mana is only considered open when it becomes a sticky liquid with a bluish hue.

    “!$!&!!!”

    Siegfried roared in protest, opening his mouth wide.

    Or rather, he seemed to be smiling broadly. Since I hadn’t contracted with him, I couldn’t hear his voice.

    “Not yet. Just a little longer.”

    “$^&!!!”

    Siegfried, with his fiery temperament.

    Even after I briefly explained the reason for not contracting yet, he shoved a lengthy contract sheet in front of my face with a disgruntled expression.

    From an outsider’s perspective, it would look like he was about to hit me in the face with it.

    “…It’ll be over soon.”

    I reignited a seed of mana at my fingertip as I spoke.

    Sssssss—

    “If it takes long, by dinner. If it’s quick, by lunch. Once I open my mana, I’ll contract immediately, so don’t be so impatient.”

    Once I mastered mana, I could simultaneously wield both powers.

    If that happened, I would be the only knight and mage on the continent capable of hosting two spiritual guardians.

    The first and the last.

    Since I had returned, this method would never be revealed to the world again.

    Knock, knock, knock.

    Someone knocked on the door.

    I quickly concealed my mana and grabbed a random book to pretend I was reading.

    Rustle.

    “Come in—”

    But before I could finish speaking—

    “I’m coming in.”

    The person outside responded and stepped into the room.

    …That voice.

    Clink.

    Valentine de Strange.

    And following her were the three worthless brothers.

    Why are they here together?

  • The Third Son of the Pentanium Sword Emperor Chapter 2

    【The… star… chooses…】

    【…】

    A voice mixed with static brushed past his ears.

    Is this what the afterlife feels like?

    That fleeting thought passed through his mind as a burning sensation suddenly ignited at the nape of his neck.

    Pain in death? How absurd.

    But something felt off. It was as if his eyelids were forcibly shut, like being trapped in a sleep paralysis state.

    ‘I could probably open them if I tried, right?’

    That thought was secondary. Whatever it was, his neck felt excruciatingly hot. Too hot.

    “Argh!”

    Unable to endure it any longer, Uldren let out a scream and bolted upright. He grabbed a bottle of water from the elegant table nearby and poured it over the back of his neck.

    His clothes were drenched, but the cold water brought some relief to his expression.

    What on earth was causing such burning pain?

    “Uh, huh?”

    The moment the pain subsided, Uldren’s voice betrayed his confusion.

    He could see.

    What he thought were his final moments had now given way to a vivid view of his surroundings.

    A luxurious room, a sword mounted on the wall, and…

    “…Pentanium.”

    The crest of Pentanium—a sword piercing a dragon’s neck—was engraved on one of the blades.

    Could it be that the direct lineage of Pentanium saved him as he lay dying?

    With a slight headache, Uldren stood up. For some reason, his body felt heavier than usual.

    Though frail by nature, he never neglected physical training. It seemed like his muscles had weakened, as if he’d been bedridden for a long time.

    ‘Did my height shrink a bit too?’

    It felt like his legs had melted and been reattached.

    As he staggered forward, he caught sight of a mirror in the corner of the room.

    Yet for some reason, his reflection was nowhere to be seen.

    Feeling something was amiss, he hurried over to the mirror.

    And there he saw a man he didn’t recognize.

    ‘Who the hell is this?’

    Black hair long enough to cover his eyes, unkempt as if untouched for years.

    The face of a boy, seemingly in his mid-teens.

    Though it might have been handsome originally, dark circles and puffy cheeks ruined it.

    It was a face Uldren had never seen before.

    Shock washed over him.

    Where was his own blue hair and moderately decent face?

    Instead, a stranger’s visage stared back.

    “…But it does feel oddly familiar.”

    As he touched his cheek to confirm the face was his, he froze.

    Though he hadn’t been in many direct battles, Uldren had survived countless life-or-death situations amidst the World’s Corruption.

    His instincts, honed to rival those of a wild animal, screamed a warning.

    Whoosh!

    A blade whizzed past his head from an unseen corner.

    Uldren ducked just in time, the premonition saving him from a fatal strike.

    Something felt unusual—his body was much lighter than expected.

    Under normal circumstances, he would’ve braced for an injury, yet his body responded with uncanny swiftness.

    “Tsk!”

    A click of the tongue echoed near him.

    Despite his disorientation, Uldren knew survival came first. He grabbed the sword hanging on the wall for self-defense.

    Yet oddly, the grip of the sword felt strangely familiar.

    Though he had deemed this body undertrained just moments ago, it now felt as though he was wielding a well-tempered blade himself.

    Something was different.

    Something was definitely different.

    But this wasn’t the time to reflect. He needed to deal with the assassin before him.

    “Who are you? Why are you targeting me?”

    “You don’t need to know, Third Son.”

    The assassin’s curt reply only deepened Uldren’s confusion.

    Third Son?

    He was the eldest son of Sodran.

    Then did this mean the target wasn’t him?

    That face he saw earlier…

    Why had it felt so familiar?

    A brief glance at the mirror again revealed the black-haired man standing opposite the assassin.

    Uldren’s eyes widened.

    ‘Of course, it’s familiar.’

    How could it not be?

    Though swollen and unkempt, that face bore an unmistakable resemblance to someone he knew.

    The head of the Pentanium family.

    One of the Celestial Four Stars.

    ‘Sword Emperor Pentanium Lacrode.’

    And judging by the assassin’s words…

    ‘Third Son, Pentanium Cerys.’

    The disgraceful third son, overshadowed by even his youngest brother in swordsmanship.

    Uldren found himself inhabiting none other than the body of Pentanium Cerys.

    This made no sense.

    Why had he, thought to be dead, suddenly found himself in the body of Pentanium Cerys?

    What’s more, Cerys was the same age as him.

    At 34, Uldren couldn’t possibly have a youthful face anymore.

    ‘Not to mention, Pentanium Cerys…’

    He had died 19 years ago.

    Aged only 15, suffocating on his own vomit after a night of heavy drinking—an end befitting his reputation as a wastrel.

    So how could he now be inhabiting the body of someone long dead?

    ‘There’s too little information.’

    If he was to understand this situation, he needed to escape first.

    Ignoring the sweat forming on his grip, Uldren steadied his breathing.

    Even as a disgraced son, this body belonged to the direct bloodline of the Pentanium family, renowned for their unparalleled swordsmanship.

    Though Uldren’s original body had been frail, he’d trained tirelessly to overcome it. Those efforts had honed an understanding of optimal muscle usage, a memory he now called upon.

    Instinctively, his posture shifted into a familiar stance.

    “…Clear Sky Ghostblade.”

    A stifled gasp escaped the assassin.

    Though unintended, Uldren had assumed the basic form of Clear Sky Ghostblade, the signature swordsmanship of the Pentanium family.

    Renowned across the continent, this style alone was enough to make the assassin hesitate.

    ‘This should keep him in check, but…’

    It wasn’t enough to win.

    As Uldren contemplated his next move, the assassin made his.

    His figure blurred, and the blade aimed for a vital spot.

    Uldren dodged by twisting his body, narrowly avoiding a fatal wound.

    Again, the blade aimed his heart and throat relentlessly.

    Danger loomed.

    Though his reflexes kept him alive, one slip would mean death.

    The assassin vanished into the shadows again, a clear sign of mastery over a unique technique.

    He was faster, and the limited visibility only made it worse.

    Rolling to evade another strike, Uldren’s ragged breath filled the room.

    The assassin had the upper hand.

    At this rate, he would lose.

    ‘What options do I have?’

    Only the Clear Sky Ghostblade stance and the body’s natural resilience remained.

    ‘…Wait.’

    Were those truly his only options?

    In that moment, Uldren’s eyes widened in realization.

    ‘I’m not Uldren anymore.’

    This body belonged to Pentanium Cerys.

    Which meant the curse that had plagued him for life… no longer existed.

    ‘There will be no death by Geumgang Janwol(Golden Strength, Lunar Radiance).’

    This was certain.

    Cerys made up his mind.

    Whether the Sodran family star would respond to Cerys’ body was uncertain, but at the moment, there was no other way.

    ‘Oh, star.’

    In that instant, a faint starlight settled quietly at the nape of his neck. The star rapidly sought a place to anchor itself within him.

    ‘It’s working!’

    Cerys’ eyes quivered subtly with suppressed excitement, unnoticed by the assassin.

    For Cerys, the secret arts of the Sodran family had always been a bitter regret—

    A forbidden fruit he could never taste, a source of his endless frustration.

    But now, after decades, he had finally reached entry-level mastery of Geumgang Janwol, at the first star.

    A thrill coursed through him, yet he quickly regained focus.

    Even if he had broken this long-standing regret, what he had now was merely the first star of Geumgang Janwol. It offered little more than slight reinforcement of his physical resilience.

    ‘I can’t match that guy’s speed. If so…’

    The dual hues of Cerys’ eyes gleamed with the resolve of a gambler who had seized the decisive moment.

    Meanwhile, in the same room, the assassin lurking in the shadows began to notice the shift in Cerys’s demeanor.

    Had he found some trump card?

    The assassin readjusted his grip on the dagger.

    It didn’t matter. His opponent was still the infamous lazy third son.

    The third son who hadn’t held a sword in over two years.

    There was no way a professional assassin, trained and active in a clandestine guild, would fail in their mission now.

    ‘The next strike will kill him.’

    The assassin’s killing intent sharpened.

    In the blink of an eye, he struck again, slithering out from the shadows like a venomous snake.

    His blade darted for the left side of Cerys’s neck, but Cerys narrowly dodged by tilting his head.

    ‘I avoided it!’

    Barely evading the strike, Cerys countered by thrusting his sword toward the assassin.

    Whoosh!

    At that moment, the tattoo on the back of the assassin’s neck flared with an ominous light.

    A sudden darkness enveloped the room, and the assassin vanished.

    When he reappeared, it was on the opposite side—precisely the side Cerys hadn’t defended.

    The assassin’s eyes gleamed as he spotted Cerys’s unprotected right flank.

    ‘It’s over.’

    The blade, shimmering faintly under the moonlight, slashed forward with lethal intent toward Cerys’ exposed flank.

    ‘This will tear through his side and pierce his heart in one strike!’

    Thunk!

    But as blood sprayed crimson, the assassin’s eyes widened in disbelief.

    ‘What the…?!’

    The blade, which should have cleaved through flesh and bone effortlessly, barely penetrated halfway.

    Not only that—the sword refused to budge, as if held by the fingers of a massive invisible hand.

    Meat resists, but bone strikes.

    Cerys had intentionally sacrificed his flank. In exchange, he locked the assassin’s blade between the unyielding muscles of his abdomen.

    An outrageous tactic only conceivable with the trust he placed in Geumgang Janwol.

    And it worked. The assassin faltered, visibly shaken.

    This hesitation lasted only a fleeting moment, but in life-or-death combat, a fleeting moment was all it took.

    As the assassin struggled to decide whether to let go of the blade and retreat, Seris had already raised his sword high above his head.

    “I’ve won, you bastard.”

    Then came the gale.

    Geumgang Janwol.

    Ruinous Strike.

    The most brutish, unrefined blow imaginable cleaved through the assassin’s neck in an instant.

    Crunch! Slash!

    The assassin’s head tumbled to the ground, severed with devastating simplicity.

    There had been no elaborate swordplay, no finesse—only raw, overwhelming force.

    Yet, for the assassin, it was more than enough to seal his fate.

    Cerys collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud.

    “Damn, that hurts.”

    Despite the pain and sweat pouring from his body, a grin spread across his face.

    The joy of awakening Geumgang Janwol and his hard-won victory coursed through him.

    However, he had no way of knowing.

    That night, a new star rose in the heavens, sending celestial observers into an uproar among noble families.

    Nor was he aware that a black star—heralding a new World Erosion—had appeared alongside it.

     


    These Two technique are the technique of Mc’s previous family :

    Golden Strength, Lunar Radiance(Geumgang Janwol) : This was their strongest technique which made them famous but was lost throughout history.

    Golden Strength, Protective Qi (Geumgang Hogi) : This was the technique they created to replace the lost technique but they only receive backlash for it.


     

  • A doomsday-level returnee devours calamities Chapter 4

    Taeseong and Haeyoung clashed simultaneously, as though synchronized.

    Boom!

    The deafening roar that echoed through the room seemed far too intense to have come from mere weapons colliding, causing the walls to tremble. Both Taeseong and Haeyoung shared similar thoughts.

    “I expected the administrators to be particularly strong, but this exceeds expectations.”

    “I figured a former soldier and returnee would be formidable, but to hold his ground against me wearing Delta-class gear?”

    The tense standoff of strength was broken in an instant.

    It was Taeseong who deliberately withdrew first.

    Using Haeyoung’s force against her, he twisted his stance into a circle, then swiftly struck upward with his blade while creating distance between them. His movements, though rapid, were seamless and fluid.

    “Her strength is at least a level—no, two levels above mine.”

    His wrists ached already. Despite their brief contest, lasting less than two seconds, Taeseong was certain that matching strength with her was futile.

    If he stubbornly resisted, his wrists might shatter before he could make another move.

    “But my speed far surpasses hers.”

    Through their clash, he instinctively knew.

    Haeyoung was inexperienced in combat.

    While her physical abilities displayed superhuman performance far beyond any ordinary human, they were just raw power.

    Unrefined strength without proper control could often backfire.

    “Each of her strikes is devastatingly powerful, but she’s still unpolished.”

    In stark contrast, every motion of Taeseong’s body was as natural as flowing water.

    It was as though a fish out of water had finally returned to the sea.

    Before he could even think, his body reacted. His instincts dictated the next move, the most efficient action, and the optimal path forward in the current situation.

    Taeseong was a fish in water.

    Bang!

    “Ugh.”

    A massive noise erupted as Haeyoung was flung into the air.

    The spot where she had been standing bore a small but deep footprint, a testament to how much force she had exerted.

    Hyaaaah!

    Letting out a strange battle cry, she plummeted downward, her massive axe aimed directly at Taeseong’s skull, brimming with lethal intent.

    Watching this, Taeseong realized.

    If that strike landed, he’d die.

    No healing, no recovery. Just death.

    If he was struck, there’d be no chance for survival. Healing wouldn’t matter because he’d already be dead.

    Thus, Taeseong chose to evade.

    “Your movements are too exaggerated.”

    A simple shift of his weight was enough to sidestep her blow, letting it miss entirely. Frustrated, Haeyoung gritted her teeth and continued swinging her axe furiously.

    “Taeseong! Stop dodging like a rat and fight me head-on!”

    But Taeseong had no intention of being struck by such reckless swings.

    He skillfully kept his distance, staying just out of reach, his movements deliberate and precise.

    “You fight so dirty!”

    A stream of “compliments” poured from Haeyoung’s mouth.

    Whenever there was an opening in her wild attacks, Taeseong countered without hesitation. Over time, small and large wounds accumulated on her body, and soon, she was drenched in her own blood.

    “Haa… Haa…”

    Haeyoung was visibly exhausted, her breathing heavy, while Taeseong looked as fresh as if he’d just started.

    It was only now that his body felt fully warmed up.

    “Are you going to keep going?”

    Rather than answer, Haeyoung let out a guttural scream and charged at him. Despite her blood loss and injuries, her spirit burned brighter than ever.

    Her fiery determination starkly contrasted with her usually gentle demeanor, and Taeseong couldn’t help but admire her internally.

    But he had no intention of dragging things out any longer. It was time to end it.

    “A few cuts won’t stop her… I’ll probably have to sever both her arms. I’ll make it as clean as possible to ensure they can reattach them without issue.”

    It was a chilling thought, though logical given the safety measures and healing facilities she had mentioned earlier.

    Despite the gruesomeness of his decision, Taeseong remained resolute.

    “Left side, now.”

    Evading her axe, Taeseong kicked hard at Haeyoung’s left ankle. Her balance faltered from the unexpected blow, and Taeseong seized the moment.

    With practiced ease, he raised his sword.

    An invisible energy surged along the blade’s edge.

    Some called it aura. Others, sword energy.

    Its name didn’t matter.

    What mattered was its devastating potential—cutting nearly anything it touched. Instead of pondering what it could slice through, it was better to consider what it couldn’t.

    In short, if Taeseong willed it, almost anything could be cleaved.

    “Simple enough.”

    With supreme focus, Taeseong felt time itself slow to a crawl.

    Though only a second had passed, the heightened clarity of his mind made it feel far longer.

    Without hesitation, he swung his blade.

    Swish!

    A clean, decisive motion without wasted effort.

    Slash!

    A crimson line appeared on both of Haeyoung’s arms before blood sprayed into the air.

    Thud.

    Her severed arms fell to the floor.

    Just as Taeseong had hoped, the cuts were impeccably clean.

    Haeyoung collapsed to her knees, looking up at Taeseong. Her wounds continued to bleed profusely, yet she managed to smile weakly as she spoke.

    “Taeseong, you’re… really strong.”

    “Just luck. More importantly, where are your colleagues? You’re losing too much blood.”

    “They… they’ll be here soon, I think…”

    Haeyoung’s face was pale, and her body trembled, likely from the cold caused by her blood loss.

    “It’s… a strange feeling, you know? Not having arms where they’re supposed to be… Hehe…”

    “Stop saying nonsense.”

    Taeseong quickly tore off part of his sleeve and began staunching her wounds.

    It was a bizarre sight—the one who had inflicted the injury now tending to it. But Tae-sung wasn’t one to dwell on such things.

    “…You’re… really kind, Taeseong…” Haeyoung murmured weakly as her consciousness began to fade.

    Haeyoung lost consciousness before she could finish her sentence.

    Taeseong picked her up and placed her severed arms on her abdomen. Then, he walked toward the center of the room.

    Step, step.

    Suddenly stopping in his tracks, Taeseong stared into the air and spoke.

    “How long do you plan to just watch? Are you waiting for her to die?”

    As expected, there was no reply.

    Moments later, a medical team and several administrators entered the room. Taeseong submitted without resistance, allowing himself to be cuffed and blindfolded again before being transported back to his original isolation cell.

    One administrator glanced at the spot where Taeseong had stood.

    “Hey, Assistant Lee! What are you doing over there?”

    “…Something seems off.”

    “Off? What do you mean?”

    “Didn’t the returnee who was just transported seem like he was speaking to us earlier?”

    “What? Come on. That must’ve been a coincidence. Why are you overthinking it?”

    “…Probably.”

    “If he really had the ability to sense spirits, don’t you think he would’ve made it obvious from the start?”

    “You’re right… I guess I’m just being paranoid.”

    “Exactly. You’ve been cooped up in here too long. Take a break outside or something.”

    Taeseong’s gaze had been directed toward where Assistant Lee’s spirit companion was positioned.

    Spirits were imperceptible to most people unless they had innate spirit affinity or heightened senses.

    “Yeah, it’s probably just my imagination,” Assistant Lee muttered as they left the room.


    Two days passed since the combat test, and Haeyoung finally reappeared.

    Her usual cheerful demeanor immediately put Taeseong at ease.

    “Taeseong! Have you been doing well? You must’ve been bored without me these last two days!”

    “I managed. Are you… okay?”

    “Of course! I’m super tough, you know!”

    “That’s a relief.”

    Haeyoung exaggeratedly patted her chest. Despite being known as the top combatant among her peers, her petite frame and youthful appearance made the gesture more adorable than intimidating.

    “So, what’s on the agenda today?”

    “You’ve worked hard, Taeseong! Now, there’s just one last test, and then you’ll finally be free!”

    He now understood the implication behind those words. The final test would determine whether he was deemed safe.

    If he passed, freedom awaited.

    If not, he wouldn’t just remain in temporary isolation—he would be permanently confined in a true containment facility or quietly disposed of.

    ‘I won’t let them take me out without even knowing who I am.’

    There was no way he would go down without a fight.

    “Does that mean the person in charge is finally coming?”

    “Yes! And get this—they’re one of only 300 Gamma-level administrators in the entire Korean branch! Isn’t that amazing? A Gamma level! So cool! My dream is to become a high-ranking administrator like them one day!”

    “Gamma, Delta… what exactly do these classifications mean? Some kind of code system?”

    “Oh, kind of! Basically, it’s a system to categorize both containment subjects and administrators by risk level. It starts at the lowest level, Epsilon, and goes up to Delta, Gamma, Beta, and Alpha. I’ve also heard of special exceptions like Sigma level, but I don’t know much since I’m still a newbie. Hehe.”

    “You said it’s based on risk level. Does that mean it reflects combat ability?”

    “Not necessarily! Even if a subject’s combat power is low, their risk level could be high due to other factors. It’s a comprehensive evaluation of potential danger, not just raw strength.”

    “So, they just vaguely call it ‘risk level’ without clear criteria?”

    Hayeong nodded with a sheepish look.

    “Yeah, everything about the levels is decided at the top. I heard you need to be at least Gamma level to access that kind of information.”

    “I see.”

    “Sorry I can’t be of more help.”

    “No, you’ve helped plenty.”

    Just then, a knock echoed at the door. Haeyoung rushed to open it and greeted the visitor with utmost respect.

    The person who entered was a woman with snow-white hair as pristine as eternal ice. Her beauty was so striking that it felt otherworldly, as though she were the embodiment of light itself.

    Dumbfounded, Haeyoung belatedly offered her greeting. The woman, however, responded with only a subtle nod before her translucent gaze shifted to Taeseong.

    Likewise, Taeseong stared at her.

    She exuded an aura so mysterious that the room seemed to drop several degrees in temperature as soon as she entered.

    Abruptly, she pulled something out from her possession.

    Seeing the object, Taeseong murmured in confusion.
    “A… mirror?”

    The woman nodded slightly.

    Before she could explain, Haeyoung chimed in excitedly, “Taeseong! That mirror has the ability to reveal the essence of things! Looking into it will be your final test!”

    “All I have to do is look?”

    “Exactly!”

    “That’s simple enough.”

    A mirror that reveals essence—such a concept belonged in the realm of fiction. But at this point, dismissing it seemed more absurd than believing it.

    Taeseong directed his gaze toward the mirror.

    At that moment, for the first time, the woman’s lips moved.

    “Found you.”

  • The Regressed Extra Becomes a Genius Chapter 7

    I figured out the situation. After spending about 10 minutes browsing the internet, I discovered that the video of today’s public ranking evaluation test had gone viral across various community sites.

    ━━
    [Current State of the Magic Academy Public Test LOL.avi]

    Comments

    [Magic schools have really dropped in quality lately, LOL.]

    ㄴ[No, it’s just this one person who’s weird.]

    ㄴ[Apparently, they’re in the same grade as Chairman Kim Jin-cheol’s protégé. Total opposites, LOL.]

    ㄴ[Shouldn’t they investigate admissions fraud? This is supposed to be the best school in the world, LOL.]
    ━━

    “Huh…”

    I never imagined my test video would become such a hot topic.

    It was both ridiculous and embarrassing. I didn’t bother reading through the overwhelmingly negative comments, but strangely, it didn’t feel that bad.

    [Current Points: 25,700]

    And why would it? I had earned a whopping 14,000 points in such a short time.

    Including the points I received during today’s ranking test, I’d managed to rake in 25,000 points in a single day.

    “I only need 5,000 more…”

    The Returner’s Wristwatch sitting in my cart.

    Initially, I’d planned to take my time earning points to buy it, but now I was just 5,000 points shy.

    Now that I was so close, impatience began creeping in.

    “Can’t I get more reputation points…?”

    I kept checking the view count on the video out of sheer habit.

    At some point, it seemed like the video had stopped gaining engagements, buried under newer posts.

    Was this the end? Should I give up here?

    “No.”

    I opened my browser and logged into a famous community site, Hermes.

    Hermes was the most visited site in this world, making it the best platform to boost video views.

    I hit the “Create Post” button and uploaded my test video.

    It felt absurd to be the one spreading a video mocking myself, but the situation had already spiraled out of control.

    Might as well earn some points out of it.

    [Current State of Magic Academy Students.avi]

    “Does this work?”

    I hesitated over whether the title was attention-grabbing enough but decided to post it anyway.

    With high hopes, I waited for five minutes.

    [Views: 13]

    “…It’s getting buried.”

    The post had already been pushed to page five. At this rate, there was no way I’d earn enough points.

    “Was the title too bland?”

    Come to think of it, that was probably the issue. With so many posts vying for attention, even I wouldn’t have clicked on a title like that.

    In that case…

    [Shocking Scandal of an S-Class Mage Going Wild Today ㄷㄷㄷ]

    I felt a bit guilty about the misleading title, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

    Post submitted.

    About a minute passed.

    [Views: 1,543]

    “Of course!”

    The views shot up to 1,500 in no time. Among the posts on page one, mine stood out prominently.

    ━━
    [Video]

    [Sorry, I used clickbait to get your attention. Is this really the current state of magic academy students?]

    Comments

    [Blocked.]

    [What’s wrong with this guy? Seriously.]

    [Ugh, I got baited.]

    [Are you sick or something?]

    [Standards really are low.]

    [I’ve never used magic in my life, but I can tell this person sucks at it.]
    ━━

    Predictably, the comments were harsh.

    But it didn’t matter. The views were steadily climbing.

    “This is it.”

    I began posting the same video to other communities. Five in total.

    After some time and a lot of effort, an explosive reaction finally appeared.

    Ding!

    [2,000 people have remembered your face.]

    [You’ve earned 5,000 points as a reward.]

    “Got it!”

    It wasn’t the most elegant method, but I’d achieved my goal.

    Now, I had enough points to buy the Returner’s Wristwatch.

    I immediately opened the Points Shop and checked my cart.

    ━━
    [Returner’s Wristwatch (B)]

    Category: Item
    Description: A wristwatch once used by a returner, imbued with special powers.

    [Passive Effect]
    Turning Clock Hands:

    • Increases stamina and mana regeneration rate by 200%.
    • Increases stamina and mana by 2.

    Durability: B
    Price: 30,000
    ━━

    30,000 points.

    Who would’ve thought I’d earn that many in a single day?

    Long live the ranking test. Long live the internet.

    [You have purchased the Returner’s Wristwatch (B).]

    A bright white light burst forth in front of me. It gradually took shape, transforming into a wristwatch.

    The watch’s design was classic yet exuded an air of elegance.

    When I put it on, a message appeared.

    [The effect of the Returner’s Wristwatch (B) has been activated.]

    [Stamina and mana regeneration rates have increased by 200%.]

    [Stamina has increased by 2.]

    [Mana has increased by 2.]

    I could feel energy coursing through my body. My mana, previously depleted, was slowly recovering.

    I was completely satisfied.


    The next morning on the way to school.

    As I walked down the hallway toward my morning class, I could feel the stares of the other students. Judging by their less-than-kind looks, it was clear nothing good was being said about me.

    “Isn’t that the guy?”

    “Yeah, the one all over the internet yesterday.”

    From their murmurs, I gathered they were talking about the video from yesterday. Well, considering how widely I shared the video, it’s no wonder the rumor spread across campus.

    Because of me, not only was I being insulted, but the entire school was being dragged down with me.

    Of course, I didn’t really care if anyone else was getting criticized.

    “Ah, senior!”

    A voice suddenly called out to me.

    Turning my head, I saw a female student approaching with a bright smile.

    “Hello!”

    She had short hair and acted as if we were already familiar. A quick glance at her name tag revealed her name: Song Seung-ah.

    Song Seung-ah? The name sounded familiar. Where had I heard it before?

    When I didn’t respond, she spoke again.

    “Don’t you remember me?”

    “Uh… not really?”

    “On the first day of school, I woke you up on the bus!”

    Ah, that’s right.

    Now I remembered—she was the one who had woken me up on that first day.

    “Oh, yeah, I remember now.”

    “Hehe, it’s so nice to see you again. By the way, senior, did you know you became famous online overnight?”

    “…More or less.”

    “Don’t pay too much attention to it. People are just nitpicking because they have nothing better to do,” Seung-ah said, patting my arm as if to comfort me.

    While her words were kind, they didn’t feel particularly reassuring.

    For a moment, I wondered if she was teasing me, though her tone didn’t suggest any ill intent.

    “Seung-ah, we need to get to class.”

    Another voice called out to her from behind. It sounded strangely familiar.

    Looking past Seung-ah, I saw a girl I immediately recognized: Choi Seo-yoon, the top-ranked first-year student.

    Oh, that’s why the name Song Seung-ah felt familiar—she was Seo-yoon’s best friend.

    Seung-ah turned back to me, her face lighting up.

    “Seo-yoon, you know this senior, right? We watched his video together yesterday.”

    Seo-yoon’s gaze landed on me. Her face brightened with her trademark warm smile as she gave a polite bow.

    “Hello, senior.”

    “…Hey.”

    I returned the greeting somewhat awkwardly, feeling uneasy under her gaze. Maybe it was because I knew that her friendly demeanor was part of her carefully calculated persona.

    When I didn’t say much, Seo-yoon kept smiling and stared at me.

    “What?”

    “Oh, nothing. You seem upset. Don’t be discouraged! I saw the video—hang in there!”

    With a cheerful “Fighting!” and a raised fist, Seo-yoon gave off her usual positivity.

    “…Thanks.”

    Glancing at my watch, I noticed it was almost time for class. I figured it was best to move on.

    “I should head to class.”

    “Ah, okay! See you later, senior! We need to get to class too.”

    “Alright, see you.”

    As Seo-yoon and Seung-ah waved goodbye, I turned and headed toward my classroom.

    “Wait.”

    A thought struck me: interacting with major characters in the storyline often grants bonus points. Maybe I should’ve talked to them more.

    ‘No, it’s fine. There’ll be plenty of chances later.’

    Just as I decided to let it go, a system message popped up before my eyes.


    [Character ‘Choi Seo-yoon’ has taken an interest in you.]

    [Reward: 500 points.]


    …What? Why?


    * * *

    The first class of the day was Classical Magic Theory.

    The teacher, an older woman in her sixties, speak in a dull voice.

    Though the lecture was dull, I forced myself to focus—my last-place ranking meant I needed to put in extra effort to raise my grades.

    “Now, the once-stable two-school system of magic collapsed. Can anyone explain why?”

    I raised my hand immediately. The teacher smiled and gestured for me to speak.

    “Yes, Mr. Kim Sun-woo?”

    “In the 18th century, the emergence of the first reinforcement-type mage, the Blood Sword, shattered the balance.”

    “Correct! Very well done.”

    The teacher’s praise filled me with a sense of accomplishment.

    Participation counts for 20% of the total grade, so making a good impression in class was crucial.

    “After this, the dominance of manifestation-type magic was challenged, leading to an explosion of research. This marked the beginning of a new era…”

    Thanks to my unique skill, Outsider’s Privilege, I could recall external information with ease. This made theoretical subjects like this a breeze, even if they were difficult for others.

    The teacher continued, “As the two schools of magic competed, what was the inevitable outcome?”

    I raised my hand again, and the teacher chuckled.

    “Mr. Kim Sun-woo, you seem very enthusiastic today. Please answer.”

    “A war broke out between the emerging reinforcement-type mages and the traditional manifestation-type mages.”

    My answer sparked murmurs among the other students.

    “Is he trying to be Hermione or something?”

    “Heh, Hermione.”

    “Does it even matter? He’s already dead last anyway.”

    Their comments didn’t bother me. Let them talk.

    “Excellent answer, Mr. Kim Sun-woo. You must study hard regularly. It’s admirable!”

    The teacher’s compliments only seemed to fuel the other students’ jealousy.

    Too bad for them—if they wanted the spotlight, they should’ve raised their hands.

    By the end of class, I had participated six more times, ensuring the teacher wouldn’t forget me anytime soon.

    “That’s it for today. It’s nice to see such active participation in the first lecture—especially from you, Mr. Kim Sun-woo. I heard someone maliciously spread a video to humiliate you yesterday. Don’t let it get to you, and keep doing your best!”

    Her kind words were heartwarming, though it amused me that she had no idea I was the one who uploaded the video.

    I couldn’t help but wonder—how would she react if she found out?

  • The Seventh Knight Chapter 16

    His arms felt weak, and his legs wobbled as if his knees were about to give out.

    “Phew…! Phew…! Ugh!”

    Jiwoon gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take one step at a time.

    The goal was right in front of him.

    If he collapsed now, he would lose.

    He had to walk proudly, even if only to meet the expectations of those who believed in and encouraged him.

    “Do you think he’ll make it?”

    “Hmm, judging by how he’s walking, it looks like he’s struggling.”

    Stumble!

    “Oh my! He looks like he’s about to fall.”

    “If you’re so worried, why don’t you help him, Windy?”

    “You’re unbelievable! You’re the one who looks ready to run to him.”

    “Hoho!”

    ‘Damn it….’

    Jiwoon couldn’t hear what they were saying clearly, but judging by their laughter, he was sure they were mocking him.

    Determined, he tried to muster strength in his trembling legs.

    However, his legs, already weakened, betrayed him, tangling like those of a drunken man.

    ‘Damn it….’

    Though he appreciated the peace and quiet due to his residence being deep within the castle, at this moment, the distance seemed unbearably long.

    Collapsing here would be an utter disgrace.

    Mustering all his strength, Jiwoon forced a smile towards the maids who were watching him from a distance and whispering among themselves.

    He had already earned considerable favor from the castle’s top figures, Baron Frederick and Bishop Swendik.

    Now, he needed to leave a good impression on the subordinates.

    In any organization, it wasn’t enough to just win over the superiors; failing to endear oneself to the subordinates could lead to ostracism.

    Moreover, Jiwoon was in a position that could be considered a ‘parachute appointment.’

    Everyone knew that to integrate smoothly without conflict, one had to take good care of the subordinates.

    “Oh my! He smiled at us!”

    “Mom, what do I do! He definitely smiled at me.”

    “Hoho! No, dear. You’re going to the bathhouse after half a year? It won’t work. He smiled at me.”

    “Look at you dreaming of wine while looking at grapes! It was me he smiled at.”

    The maids giggled, continuing their whispers.

    When the foreigner with black hair had been captured and brought to the castle two months ago, rumors about his identity had spread among the maids.

    Some speculated he was an evil sorcerer or a runaway slave from the East who had killed his master.

    However, those stories soon faded as no one believed he would survive.

    But when it was revealed that this black-haired foreigner was a noble from a prestigious family in a distant country called ‘Korea,’ the maids’ attitudes changed dramatically.

    Although his features weren’t exceptionally handsome, his black hair and eyes exuded a mysterious charm.

    Moreover, the fact that he was a young foreign noble with no chance of returning home—especially one who couldn’t return—was significant.

    The maids weren’t foolish enough to lift their skirts for just any noble.

    Having an illegitimate child without a father could easily get them expelled from their relatively secure positions in the castle.

    But this young foreign noble had no place to go, meaning he would have to stay here for the foreseeable future.

    If they managed to seduce him and have his child, he couldn’t deny responsibility.

    It was a golden opportunity to change their fortunes.

    Even if the chances of becoming his legitimate wife were slim, being a noble’s mistress or concubine was a better prospect than their current status.

    Furthermore, the respect shown to him by Bishop Swendik and the fact that Baron Frederick had given him the room where the previous lord had spent his final days confirmed to the maids that he was their golden ticket.

    However, despite their expectations, Jiwoon had stayed secluded in his room for nearly two months.

    Just when their interest was declining, he reappeared, announcing that he was training in swordsmanship to be formally recognized for his title.

    The maids started bathing more frequently, applying heavier makeup, and loitering near the path to his quarters.

    Some even raised their skirts to reveal their shapely thighs.

    They wouldn’t hesitate to do more if it meant changing their destiny.

    Unaware of the maids’ intentions, Jiwoon smiled and bowed slightly toward them.

    His gesture, meant to foster goodwill and show that he wasn’t a bad person, was interpreted by the maids as him throwing himself into the flames of their ambitions.

    Fortunately for Jiwoon, a figure as imposing as a storm with heavy rain appeared before the flames could ignite.

    “Training must have been tough, Sir Jiwoon.”

    Lady Roselia Frederick, the de facto mistress of the castle since the death of Lady Elisa Frederick, emerged from one side of the corridor without a sound.

    “It seems you have little to do, don’t you?”

    “N-No, Lady Roselia,” the maids stammered, scattering like sheep before a lion as Roselia shot them a piercing glare.

    Though she never tormented or hit them like some other noble ladies, Roselia’s reserved demeanor and few words made her difficult to approach.

    Even Lawrence, whose cold gaze surpassed hers, treated her with more respect than her status as the lord’s daughter warranted, making the maids even more wary around her.

    Still, Roselia wasn’t one to punish without cause, and she secretly helped the maids when they were ill or faced family issues.

    Despite finding her intimidating, they respected her greatly as the castle’s mistress.

    “Sorry if the maids made you uncomfortable, Sir Jiwoon,” she said.

    “Oh, not at all. It’s rather flattering that the young ladies are interested in me. Haha!”

    “You seem to enjoy it, Sir Jiwoon.”

    Roselia’s eyes darkened as she gazed at Jiwoon, who chuckled awkwardly.

    “Haha! Pardon?”

    But, misinterpreting her words, Jiwoon asked with a laugh, making Roselia avert her eyes as her face grew slightly warm.

    “It’s nothing. I’ll see you later then.”

    “Oh, sure. But what were you saying earlier…?”

    “Well then.”

    Without waiting for his reply, Roselia bowed and quickly walked away.

    Puzzled by her slightly unusual behavior, Jiwoon shrugged it off, assuming it wasn’t a big deal, and resumed his journey to his quarters, still forcing strength into his trembling legs.

    Why did I do that?

    Roselia bit her lower lip, scolding herself.

    It was clearly a joke, and even if it hadn’t been, there was no reason for her to care.

    Yet, inexplicably, she found herself seething with anger over the words she had muttered unconsciously.

    From the moment she overheard the maids whispering about Jiwoon, an inexplicable irritation had been brewing within her.

    When Jiwoon smiled and greeted the maids, causing some of the girls to squeal, she instinctively moved toward him, feeling a need to intervene before something unpleasant unfolded.

    This isn’t something I should be concerned about.

    Indeed, whether Jiwoon flirted with the maids or took liberties with them, it was none of her business.

    Besides, Roselia had an inkling that Jiwoon wasn’t the type to engage in such behavior.

    After all, within his heart, the lady named ‘Annabel Lee’ still lived and breathed.

    Yet, for some reason, that very thought bothered her as well.


    “Your back is too stiff. Relax a little.”

    “Oh, okay.”

    “Here, lightly sweep your hand around and gently turn your partner’s body.”

    “Like this?”

    “Hmm! Be careful not to pull too hard, as it could be considered quite impolite.”

    “Ah! I apologize.”

    Distracted by his sweaty palms, Jiwoon inadvertently tugged too hard, causing Roselia, who was in his arms, to startle him into backing away.

    Learning the art of social dancing was proving to be a formidable challenge.

    Without a systematic approach and years of practice, mastering such dances in just two months was nearly impossible.

    Moreover, the social dances of this world demanded elegance and beauty in every movement, making it exceedingly difficult for Jiwoon, whose stiff joints and poor coordination rendered him a physical incompetence.

    In this world, a noble who couldn’t dance was akin to a knight who couldn’t ride a horse.

    A true noble and a cultured individual were expected to read, write, and dance proficiently.

    Regardless of being a foreign or domestic noble, the ability to dance was non-negotiable.

    Fortunately, in the Kingdom of Prim, martial prowess was valued more than culture, so a lack of dancing skills wasn’t seen as a severe shortcoming.

    In fact, the notion of social dancing as an essential virtue for nobles had only emerged about a decade ago, and many old knights still openly shunned it, dismissing it as silly.

    Jiwoon’s goal was merely to present a passable facade.

    Roselia was surprised that Jiwoon, well-versed in poetry and literature, struggled with social dancing.

    Hearing that men and women in Korea were so strictly separated that they couldn’t even hold hands after the age of seven, she accepted this as an explanation, narrowly avoiding a potential misunderstanding.

    When Roselia asked if Korean nobles didn’t dance at all, Jiwoon hesitated before attempting an awkward traditional Korean dance from his college days, almost embarrassing himself.

    Roselia, however, viewing Jiwoon favorably, tilted her head and remarked, “It’s quite rustic, with a soft yet intense energy.”

    Had it been anyone else, they might have simply labeled it as strange or amusing.

    Even the violinist beside them, observing Jiwoon’s dance, struggled to suppress laughter, his face reddening from the effort.

    “I’m sorry. I’ve never been good at dancing, and it was quite the ordeal back home as well.”

    This was the only honest statement Jiwoon had made to Roselia.

    Though he could sing reasonably well, he was utterly hopeless at dancing, often becoming a visual nuisance when forced to perform.

    “No, with your tall and slender figure, if you get the posture right, you’ll look splendid,” Roselia assured him confidently.

    This feels like committing a sin. It’s so embarrassing.

    Blushing from Roselia’s praise, Jiwoon remained silent.

    Since reciting ‘Annabel Lee’ for her, Roselia had held him in almost embarrassingly high regard.

    It felt as though she viewed him as an admired teacher, ready to defend him no matter what he did.

    Though his deception was necessary to gain favor with the castle’s influential figure, moments like these made his conscience pang.

    A fraud taking advantage of an innocent girl!

    But what could he do?

    The die was cast.

    Pulling the curtain on this act now would likely result in banishment at best and execution at worst.

    That can’t happen.

    Imagining the sneering face of Helford holding his severed head sent a chill down Jiwoon’s spine.

    One misstep, and he could fall from grace to ruin.

    Having committed himself to this path, Jiwoon resolved to see it through to the end, bolstering himself with a mental mantra.

    “When an public speaker becomes a revolutionary in the eyes of the masses without realizing it, that’s when they succeed.”

    Though slightly out of context for his situation, the sentiment resonated with Jiwoon’s determination.

    He was resolved to make a serious effort.

    “Daydreaming will ruin your steps. Focus.”

    “Ah! Yes….”

    Despite his burning resolve, his legs continued to tangle awkwardly.

    Some things in life simply couldn’t be accomplished through sheer willpower.

    To be continued.

  • Logging Out Is Too Hard Chapter 3

    [Gr-r-r…]

    A low growl echoed from the cave’s entrance.

    Though it was a tense moment, Raul let out a sigh of relief upon hearing the sound.

    “Thank goodness. It’s a gray wolf.”

    ‘…Can you see it?’

    Woojin looked toward the cave entrance Raul was glaring at, but saw nothing.

    Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew what gray wolves were.

    They were one of the low-tier monsters inhabiting the Dark Forest, a beginner’s zone near Moretti Village.

    Weaker than goblins, they were prey for novices alongside slimes.

    “…Let me help too.”

    He had hunted a few in the game before.

    “For now, stay here. Reducing their numbers before going in is better.”

    Perhaps due to his nerves, Woojin clumsily drew his sword.

    Watching him, Raul lightly patted his shoulder and drew a dagger from the leather strap slung diagonally across his chest.

    Shwik—.

    Without hesitation, he threw the dagger.

    [Kaeng—!!]

    A shriek pierced the air.

    ‘Throwing skill?’

    Woojin stared at Raul in astonishment.

    Shwik, shwik—!

    Raul threw two more daggers.

    One clanged against the cave wall, missing its mark, but the other struck the wolf squarely between its eyes.

    ‘As expected… similar to the game, yet different.’

    In Evil Tale, warriors used swords, while the throwing skill belonged to rogues. Rogues couldn’t equip long swords like Raul’s.

    Seeing that game restrictions like class-specific weapons didn’t apply here, Woojin was once again reminded that this was reality.

    “Five of them. You can handle one, right?”

    As he finished speaking, Raul drew his sword and slashed at the wolves.

    “Huup—!!”

    With a tense expression, Woojin gripped his sword.

    Whoosh…!!

    Keeping his eyes on the wolf, he swung the sword downward with all his strength.

    Thud—!!!

    The wolf leapt back with ease, leaving Woojin’s sword to pitifully strike the ground.

    ‘It’s heavy.’

    The moment he drew the sword from its sheath, he felt his confidence waver.

    Though Evil Tale prided itself on realism, many aspects had clearly been adjusted for player convenience.

    Throb—.

    After just a few swings, his wrist began to ache.

    ‘…Damn it!’

    The fatigue was something he had never experienced in the game.

    If the game had been this demanding, he would’ve collapsed before even starting a hunt.

    “Huff… huff…”

    The sword, which he had once wielded with ease in the game, now felt unbearably heavy.

    Even with the death penalty hanging over him in the game, it couldn’t compare to the real danger of fighting for his life.

    The extreme tension weighed down on his entire body.

    “Hoo.”

    Woojin exhaled sharply, while the wolf began circling him slowly, as if sensing an opening.

    Bang—! Crash—!!

    Raul fought the wolves skillfully, his sword slicing fluidly through the air.

    Crunch—!!

    His blade cut clean through a wolf’s nape.

    Mesmerized by Raul’s graceful swordsmanship, Woojin found himself staring.

    [Kaang—!!!]

    That was a mistake.

    The wolf didn’t miss the fleeting opportunity.

    “Ugh!”

    Woojin hastily raised his sword, but the wolf twisted its body mid-air and sank its teeth into his shoulder.

    “Arghhh—!!!”

    Pain as sharp as knives digging into his flesh overwhelmed him, and Woojin screamed, twisting his body in agony.

    [Gr-r-r…]

    The wolf leapt back, putting distance between them.

    Its bared fangs were stained with Woojin’s blood.

    “Huff… huff…”

    Clutching his throbbing shoulder, Woojin pointed his trembling sword at the wolf.

    The blade shaked like a leaf in the wind.

    This was real.

    The pain affirmed that this world was not a game but a stark reality.

    ‘I really… I’m really in another world.’

    Doubting it was pointless.

    The blood dripping down his arm was real, and the monster still threatening his life was right in front of him.

    Flash—!!

    The wolf lunged at its weary prey without hesitation.

    “Arghhh!”

    Woojin threw himself at the charging beast, rolling on the ground to narrowly dodge its attack. He swung his sword in desperation.

    [Karung—!!!]

    The wolf twisted its body unnaturally, effortlessly evading the strike before leaping back.

    Thud—.

    Woojin dove forward, grabbing the wolf’s leg as he slid.

    Squish—!!

    He thrust his sword into the wolf’s abdomen, piercing through its side.

    Blood and entrails gushed out, splattering onto Woojin’s face.

    “Ugh…!!”

    Woojin shoved the wolf’s corpse off him and scrambled to his feet.

    “Urgh…! Ughhh!!”

    Though the guts weren’t as foul as he’d expected, their warmth twisted his stomach.

    “Huff… huff…”

    Amidst the horrific scene of blood, guts, and his own vomit, the wolf, clinging to life, snapped its jaws at him.

    Slash—.

    A silver flash swept before Woojin’s eyes.

    “Never let your guard down. Even a low-tier monster has tenacious vitality.”

    The growling wolf’s head rolled cleanly to the ground.

    “Th-thank you.”

    Were gray wolves always this vicious?

    Woojin, pale with dread, nodded at Raul.

    ‘Huh?’

    At that moment, he noticed Raul’s sword.

    The silver flash from earlier hadn’t been his imagination.

    A faint glow enveloped the blade.

    “Could it be… an aura blade?”

    “Ah, it’s nothing special.”

    Raul spoke casually, but Woojin couldn’t hide his astonishment.

    ‘An aura blade? That’s the pinnacle skill in the warrior’s fifth-tier skill tree….’

    “You’re incredible.”

    “Ha, I may not look it, but I’m a first-class hunter.”

    Raul smiled, showing off the small black feather ornament at his waist.

    ‘I thought this world mirrored the game, but… faced with real monsters, I froze and forgot about using any skills.’

    Even at level 10, he had two skills: [Smash] and [Dash].

    ‘But how do I use them?’

    This wasn’t the game, where skills could be learned automatically by leveling up.

    Woojin silently watched Raul.

    Squish—.

    Raul sliced open the wolf’s belly with his dagger.

    Crack…….

    A faint crackling sound echoed.

    “You’re in luck,” Raul remarked, pulling something out from within the wolf’s belly and holding it out to him.

    “What is this?”

    A small, red, stone-like fragment lay in Raul’s palm.

    “It’s a rune.”

    “…A rune?”

    “It’s the lowest grade, but still useful. Red runes increase strength.”

    The fragment glimmered faintly, decked with an unfamiliar, glowing pattern.

    ‘It’s real.’

    Woojin stared at the rune in astonishment, hardly believing his eyes.

    ‘How is it possible for a rune to come from a gray wolf?’

    Runes existed in Evil Tale, but they were rare. Information on them suggested that the Lizard King, the boss on the fifth floor of the Maze Tower, occasionally dropped them as a reward. Starting from the sixth floor, lower-tier runes could rarely drop from summoned monsters.

    Yet here it was—a rune emerging from a gray wolf, a creature found in a beginner’s zone.

    “Go ahead, try it,” Raul said, placing the rune in Woojin’s hand.

    “…Are you sure I can have this?”

    “Of course. A human body can only absorb a limited number of runes. For the lowest tier, it’s capped at twenty per attribute. I’ve already had my fill.”

    In Evil Tale, even the lowest-tier runes were so rare that none could be found in the trading market.

    ‘This world might resemble the game, but it’s different.’

    Unlike the game, which was still in the process of clearing the tenth floor, this place seemed to be the future, where the 99th floor had already been conquered.

    ‘This kind of difference is definitely welcome.’

    Crunch.

    The rune shattered more easily than expected.

    “Oh…”

    A refreshing, herbal aroma filled his mouth. As he swallowed, a warm sensation surged down his throat.

    “This… feels incredible.”

    A wave of vitality coursed through Woojin’s body.

    ‘A red rune… so it’s a strength rune.’

    Whoosh.

    The sword, which had felt heavy before, now seemed slightly lighter in his hands.

    ‘I don’t know about skills yet, but runes definitely have a noticeable effect.’

    Grrr…….

    A guttural growl came from outside the cave, pulling Woojin’s attention. A sea of glowing red eyes reflected the faint light outside, too many to count.

    The excitement that had been bubbling inside him moments ago quickly cooled.

    “…Looks like they’re not giving up.”

    Raul’s words carried a note of grim humor, and Woojin steeled himself, gripping his sword tighter. But this time, something had changed.

    ‘One, two, three…’

    Even in the face of countless enemies, fear didn’t overtake him.

    ‘Could there be more runes to collect?’

    Instead, a spark of hope and determination lit his eyes. For the first time, this world didn’t feel so hostile.


    [Kaeng…!!]

    The pitiful cries of wolves echoed, but only briefly.

    Thunk.

    When the last wolf’s head hit the ground, morning light began to filter into the cave.

    “…Morning already,” Raul muttered, leaning on his sword like a staff and stretching his back with a groan.

    “How many were there? Can’t deny it anymore—age’s catching up to me. I’m exhausted.”

    He was covered in blood, but the vast pool staining the ground wasn’t his own.

    “It’s an agility rune,” Woojin said flatly, crouching over the last wolf’s body, completely unfazed by the metallic stench in the air.

    “Heh, you’re adapting quickly. Didn’t you throw up the first time?”

    ‘Strength runes: 5, Agility runes: 6, Vitality runes: 8, Dexterity runes: 4.’

    The haul from a single night of relentless combat.

    ‘In game terms, each lowest-tier rune increases the relevant stat by 5 points.’

    In Evil Tale, leveling up awarded players 5 stat points per level.

    ‘So these runes are effectively one level-up each. If this were the game, I would’ve gained 24 levels in a single night.’

    The achievement was astounding, yet it didn’t fill him with joy.

    This wasn’t a game where death was reversible. If he died here, it was over.

    ‘I have to survive. At all costs.’

    “Yes. There’s no reason to refuse a way to grow stronger,” Woojin said, his expression hardening as he crunched another agility rune between his teeth.

    “But it’s not enough.”

    “…Hmm?” Raul raised a curious brow, noticing the hungry gleam in Woojin’s eyes.

    “Can I learn it too?”

    A strange question. In a world where his very existence had vanished, where he was trapped in an unfamiliar reality, despair might have seemed natural.

    Yet Woojin’s eyes burned with a fierce resolve.

    ‘Maybe this is an opportunity.’

    This was a world without level caps. A place where skills weren’t locked behind rigid trees.

    ‘In the game, it would’ve been impossible…’

    But here, it could be.

    “Aura Blade.”

    A master-tier skill unlocked only at level 99.

    In the history of Evil Tale, no player had ever reached it.

  • Gatekeeper Of The Boundless World Chapter 7

    The four of them ventured into the forest together.

    The mountains were verdant, the streams babbled gently, and the path was rugged.

    An hour later.

    Shen Ye was nearly gasping for breath, but his three companions still moved with ease, as if strolling leisurely.

    He couldn’t even hear them breathing!

    Left with no choice, Shen Ye allocated his remaining attribute points to agility to alleviate the embarrassment of his exhaustion.

    Another half an hour passed.

    Just when Shen Ye felt like he was about to be exposed, finally—

    A guard post appeared ahead.

    They all stopped.

    While catching his breath, Shen Ye silently thanked the heavens, almost wanting to kneel in gratitude.

    “Listen, entering the village requires the chief’s permission. There’s no real risk in this step. You just need to show him your medal,” said the lead “elf.”

    “What’s risky then?” Shen Ye asked.

    “Of course, the assassination tonight. According to the plan, the three of us will provide cover outside while you handle the primary kill,” the other replied.

    “Kill the chief? Me?” Shen Ye asked again.

    “Yes. There will be a welcome banquet tonight. We’ll get the chief drunk, and then it’ll be up to you.”

    The three companions all fixed their gazes on him.

    Shen Ye puffed out his chest and sneered, “My blade thirsts for blood. Leave this task to me.”

    The three nodded in satisfaction.

    After walking a little further, the four of them arrived at the guard post.

    Two elves with long ears, clad in dark green leather armor, stood guard with spears in hand, bows slung at their waists, and hawks perched on their shoulders.

    The “elf” leading the group stepped forward, pointing at Shen Ye.

    “Our companion has arrived. Please grant him passage into the village.”

    The two guards turned to look at Shen Ye.

    Shen Ye held his head high and displayed his silver medal to them.

    “A brave soldier from the frontlines, I see.”

    “Still, like the others, he needs to meet the chief first before he can stay.”

    “Of course, of course,” replied the lead “elf.”

    One of the sentries jumped down and led the four into the village.

    At first, Shen Ye thought the elves all lived in crude treehouses like the sentry post. But upon entering the village, he realized how wrong he was.

    The elves’ homes resembled ancient temple complexes from his previous life on Blue Star.

    Everywhere he looked, there were ornate carvings and painted beams, red walls and green tiles, with small guardian beast statues adorning the rooftops.

    In the center of the village was a fountain.

    Four glowing ancient tree statues stood within it, radiating powerful energy.

    Upon closer inspection, while the village’s architecture was magnificent, the number of buildings was limited.

    The greatest weakness of the elves was their low population, forcing them to ally with other races.

    In front of a building adorned with carvings of fruits and wine glasses, the three “elves” stopped.

    Shen Ye looked up to see elven script on the building.

    Though he couldn’t read it, he could see through the windows elves resting, eating, drinking, and even dancing.

    It was probably a dining hall.

    Or maybe a tavern.

    “Go meet the chief, brother. We’ll wait here and rest,” said the lead “elf.”

    “Alright,” Shen Ye replied.

    He followed the sentry to the largest building in the village.

    “Please enter. The chief is already aware of your arrival and is waiting for you.”

    The sentry bowed respectfully.

    “Thank you,” Shen Ye replied.

    The sentry withdrew, leaving Shen Ye alone.

    Taking a deep breath, Shen Ye stepped into the grand, temple-like hall.

    Inside the hall stood a single golden-haired elf in the center, holding a book and flipping through its pages with focus.

    The elf wore a luxurious purple robe adorned with multicolored gems and beads, with a dagger as reflective as a mirror hanging at his waist.

    —This must be the target for the assassination.

    Shen Ye thought to himself.

    Just as he was about to speak, glowing text appeared in the air before him:

    “Your ‘Door’ ability comes with an appraisal feature, allowing you to see the traits of other beings.”

    Traits?

    Shen Ye noticed a line of text hovering above the elven chief’s head:

    “Spirit of Vansen, Heir of the Ancient Tree Throne, Master of Nature Magic Capable of Facing Thousands, Archmage of Arcane Law, Guardian of the Nightmare Realm, One of the Five Pillars of the World.”

    The elven chief seemed to sense Shen Ye’s gaze. Closing the book in his hands, he smiled warmly.

    “Welcome, soldier from the frontlines.”

    Shen Ye’s expression turned blank.

    —An African shaman skipping rope made me leap in shock.

    What was his own trait again?

    Oh, right. He was “Polite Person.”

    “Polite Person” was now tasked with assassinating the “Spirit of Vansen, Heir of the Ancient Tree Throne, Master of Nature Magic Capable of Facing Thousands, Archmage of Arcane Law, Guardian of the Nightmare Realm, One of the Five Pillars of the World.”

    Fantastic!

    Absolutely fantastic!

    It was like—

    A first-grader being tested on relativity on their first day of school.

    A rookie soldier sent to the battlefield only to face nuclear bombs.

    Entering a game’s starter village and immediately running into the final boss.

    That summed up Shen Ye’s thoughts on tonight’s mission.

    —Is this reasonable?

    No, it’s not.

    But could he escape?

    Surrender, perhaps?

    But his three “companions” outside were surely watching his every move.

    If he surrendered, what would they do to him?

    The result might end up the same.

    “Younger and braver soldier, please rest well in our village,” the elven chief said with a wave of his hand.

    A gentle white light enveloped Shen Ye.

    As Shen Ye’s had mixed thoughts, he opened his mouth to speak.

    —But it was too late.

    He found himself teleported to the dining hall, already seated by a wide oak table.

    The table was laden with a variety of fruits, pastries, and transparent glasses filled with fine wine.

    Seated beside him were his three co-conspirators.

    “Eat up. It’s still early, so we can rest for a while,” the leader of the group said, raising his glass toward Shen Ye.

    Shen Ye stayed silent, picked up a banana, and began peeling it while glancing around with the corner of his eye.

    Outside, it had started to rain.

    In elven culture, rain was considered a blessing from nature.

    The elves cheered happily, drinking, singing, and dancing in celebration.

    The dining hall was filled with a joyful atmosphere.

    Shen Ye took a bite of the banana and secretly observed his three companions.

    One was drinking, another appeared to be napping, and the third was engrossed in a book, reading intently.

    —Their expressions practically said, “Do Not Disturb.”

    Shen Ye shifted his gaze to the other elves.

    They sang merrily, inviting those around them for a drink or to dance hand in hand.

    …Elves were a race that highly respected personal privacy and space.

    Given how unapproachable his three companions looked, naturally, no one dared to bother them.

    But why wasn’t anyone inviting me?

    Shen Ye’s eyes wandered again.

    Suddenly, his gaze met that of an elven girl.

    She was the most beautiful elf in the room. When she noticed his gaze, she glanced at him, smiled faintly, and quickly averted her eyes.

    But Shen Ye, undeterred, kept looking at her.

    After a while, the elf girl seemed to come to a decision. She gracefully walked over to him, standing by his side, her face tinged with shyness as she extended a hand.

    “Sir, may I ask you for a dance?”

    …Sir?

    Do I look that old?

    Then again, according to elven traditions, one could only go to the battlefield after reaching adulthood.

    In that case, I probably am older than her.

    “Of course, though I’m not very good at dancing,” Shen Ye replied.

    “No problem. I can lead you,” the elf girl said, playfully sticking out her tongue.

    Shen Ye stood up and glanced at his three companions.

    They were still drinking, napping, and reading.

    —Would they stay this way even while I assassinate the elven leader?

    Shen Ye took the elf girl’s small hand and stood up, following her around the table.

    “What dances do you know?” Shen Ye asked as they walked.

    “All of them. If you don’t know, I can teach you,” the girl said confidently.

    Now she’s worried I won’t know how to dance.

    Tsk.

    Shen Ye smiled. “Thank you.”

    As they passed behind the drunken “elf,” Shen Ye spoke, all the while silently allocating his last attribute point to agility—

    He nearly reached for his gun, ready to shoot the back of the companion’s head without hesitation.

    But he held back.

    After all, he wasn’t trained in firearms, and the opponent was an undead creature.

    A skeleton like that could survive a gunshot, even from a trained assassin.

    So, the gun might not work.

    What about a dagger?

    …But I don’t know swordsmanship.

    What should I do?

    “Why are you so quiet? Your brothers are the same. Was the battle on the front lines so brutal that it hurt your spirit?”

    The elf girl’s soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts as she led him toward the dance floor.

    The other elves kindly made way for them.

    Looking at the girl’s exquisitely beautiful face, Shen Ye thought bitterly that if it weren’t for this ridiculous task, he could have truly enjoyed this moment of singing and dancing.

    Damn it!

    I want to dance with this elven girl!

    He suddenly made up his mind.

    “What’s your name?” Shen Ye asked.

    “Lannie,” she replied.

    “Lannie, listen to me. I know a magic trick.”

    “Hahaha, really? That sounds fun! Show me!”

    “There’s no magic without a reward.”

    “Fine, here’s my bracelet—but let me warn you, if your magic trick isn’t impressive, I’ll take it back,” Lannie said, handing him her bracelet.

    “No problem. Watch closely,” Shen Ye said.

    He accepted her bracelet as the other elves around them turned their attention toward him.

    —Everyone had overheard his conversation with Lannie.

    A soldier from the front lines knows magic?

    They were curious to see what he would do.