"Hey, FF-RANK. Commander is calling you. Move quick."
"Loser, I'm speaking to you!" She lunged at his feet to trip him, but he moved on pure impulse. He dodged instantly, throwing back a cold stare filled with enough bloodlust to make her flinch. "Whatever, loser. Just move quickly. Fuck!" she spat, turning away. Kaito placed his hands in his pockets, moving slowly toward the command tent, his mind racing. > "What is this? Wasn't I dead a few seconds ago? Why am I here?" His brain wandered, trying to grasp the reality around him. > "Is this some kind of illusion technique, or what?" Before realizing it, he was already at the tent, opening it to reveal people who controlled not only strength but armies as well. The Commander of the Empire Army, the Saintess with Yuna standing behind her, the leader of the Blood Dagger Guild—the top assassin guild in the Empire—Mordecai Thorne, and the Mercenary King, Varkas Krell. All these people were among the strongest on the continent. Especially the Mercenary King, who held no affiliation with any kingdom or empire. > "This feels familiar," Kaito thought. "I think this is fifteen years in the past, when the Demon Lord's army began moving once more." His eyes shifted toward the commander, who gave him a warm smile. > "I think this was the time when my magic was finally recognized," he realized. "The day I was given the chance to train alongside the first team." "Boy, that magic skill you demonstrated earlier—I never knew you were a mage." The commander's face glowed with a faint smile as he spoke, resting his hand lightly on Kaito's shoulder. "I just learned some basic spells, since that's all my ability could do," Kaito said, lowering his head to avoid eye contact with the leaders up front. "Hmmm, okay then. Still sounds impressive with just basic magic. Anyways, you have been deployed to the first team. From this point on, you will be training and going on missions with them. Be proud, boy." "But Commander, he's just an FF-rank, worse than the worst," one of the guards said in protest. "I know, I know, but I'm not changing my orders. If he's not good enough to handle their training regimen, he will quit himself." "Commander…" "That's enough." The guard's face instantly twisted with displeasure at the decision as he tightened his fist. "That will be all. You may return to your post, boy," the commander said, lifting his hand off Kaito's shoulder as he walked off. --- "Kaito! Kaito!! Wait up." As he emerged from the tent, a voice shouted from the distance. It was familiar, but not loved. It was Kyoto, running toward him, his hands waving with a huge smile on his face. Upon seeing him, Kaito's blood boiled. His fist clenched so tightly he bruised his own skin. He released a sudden violent gush of bloodlust—an aura strong enough to suffocate even the powerful. "Kaito, please wait for me," Kyoto spoke again, drawing nearer. His voice was still filled with an awkward sense of joy and purity. Kaito looked at him. He was still furious, but he forced himself under control. He relaxed his fist, pulled back his aura, and wore a forced warm smile as he stood his ground. "Kaito… damn, why were you walking so fast? You could have slowed down a bit… you know I'm not a speed type," Kyoto panted, struggling to catch his breath. "Sorry. I didn't hear you." "Ahhh… never mind. Anyway, what happened? Why did the commander call you in so suddenly? Did you hit on his daughter or something?" Kyoto laughed, reaching out to playfully swat Kaito's shoulder. Kaito dodged on instinct. He threw a stare so cold it made Kyoto flinch and pull back. "You alright, bro? I was only joking," Kyoto said, his smile vanishing into a look of genuine terror. "Sorry, sorry… I was just promoted to the first team," Kaito said, forcing a faint smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Looks like I'll be leaving the others in Team 7 behind. I'm finally a level above you now, right? Hahahaha." "Oh… that's good news, right?" Kyoto said, lunging toward him with forced joy. He wore a smile hiding the envy on his face. "Anyway, I'm off. Wouldn't want to miss lunch," Kaito replied, his voice calm. "Right. Best of luck with your new team, Kaito." Kaito turned, a cold broken smile on his face as he walked away. "Let's see how you make it to Team 1 without my magic knowledge to carry you there, Kyoto." --- 10 Years Later: Living Quarters of the Black Corps, Team 7. "Hey guys, we have a new mission sent directly from the Church. We're going after some mad scientist hiding in the Slovnia Cemetery. If we manage to bring him down, we have a chance to get promoted," Paul said, the team leader of the Black Corps, a D-rank hero. "Listen up, guys. We've got an important mission directly from the Church," Paul shouted. As the D-rank leader of the Black Corps, he was the only thing keeping the squad from falling apart. "Some mad scientist is hiding out in the Slovnia Cemetery. If we bring his head back, we'll probably get promoted, or maybe get better quarters instead of this shithole." Paul scanned the room, looking at the disappointment he called a squad. The corner of his eyes flickered toward Kyoto, who sat with his head slightly bowed. "Hey, Kyoto," one of the squad members called out as he leaned against the wall. "Try not to drag us down this time as well. At least pretend to be less of a failure as a B-rank for five minutes." Kyoto's face twisted. "Watch your mouth, fucker. I'll shove this staff down your fucking throat." "What? It's not like he's wrong," another person said, laughing. "Everyone knows you're nothing but dead weight. You bask in our glory because of your B-rank status, but can't even fight better than an average D-rank civilian. I heard your best friend, Kaito, dumped you because of how much you suck. Just go die already." "Fuck, I'm gonna kill you… don't mention that fucker's name anymore," Kyoto said, lunging forward with his staff raised. Before he could even strike, he was caught by the throat and slammed hard against the ground. Kyoto gasped for air, clutching the back of his head after it slammed against the floor. "See? Dead weight. Learn your place, bitch," the man said, spitting on him before walking off. Paul didn't even look down as he stepped over Kyoto without batting an eye. "We move at dawn. Don't be late." --- At dawn that day, at an inn close to the Slovnia Cemetery, the gathering spot for the mission— "Okay, everyone's here except Paul. He's awkwardly late today. That's so unlike him, shouldn't we be worried?" "Worried? Why even worry about that son of a bitch? He's the strongest one here." "Yeah, that's right. He's probably groaning over some lady somewhere before the mission. That's usual for him anyway." "But Kyoto is surprisingly late today. He's usually the last one here." "Ummm… maybe it's because of the beating he got earlier, right? Hahahaha." Suddenly, a strong gush of wind blew in, extinguishing the lights immediately, with only the moonlight piercing through the windows. "What happened…?" "Seems like a storm is coming." "Paul should come quickly. I want to get this over with before the storm. I don't want to get wet." "Is this who you're talking about?" a figure appeared at the window, his face half covered. In his hand was Paul's head, dripping blood slowly onto the floor. "Paul…!" "Oohh… I'm fucked. I was told to capture you all alive, not dead. Doctor is gonna kill me." "Attack him!" They all lunged forward, with swords, axes, and magic all aimed at the window where the figure stood. "Is he dead…?" one of the squad members asked. Before the words could fully leave his lips, he was slammed hard into the wooden floor, blood gushing heavily out of his neck. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! I killed another! Doctor is definitely going to kill me!" the figure cried out. His voice held no remorse, just a twisted smile across his face. "Fuck! Nick is down! Everyone, get him! He's just one man!" Once again, they lunged at him with everything they had. The nine remaining heroes threw everything they had at him once more, but within a second, only three remained standing. The rest were knocked unconscious onto the floor with their necks half broken. "I don't want to die, I don't want to die." Kyoto rushed for the window, wailing in despair as he abandoned his squad. "Ooh... we have a runner," the figure mocked, appearing instantly in Kyoto's path. "You really look pathetic for a B-rank. Anyway, goodnight." Kyoto slammed hard against the hardwood floor. --- "Where… where am I?" Kyoto's eyes flickered open slowly, his eyelids still heavy, barely able to open. His weak body hung against the wall, his neck still aching and his hands bound tightly together. "We have another one awake over here, Saintess. Should we bring him forward?" Kyoto's heart hammered against his ribs. Through the dim light, he saw a woman standing over a massive wooden table. It was drenched in blood and rotten flesh. "Is it among the trash, sorry weak heroes?" she questioned, standing beside the large table, half covered in human blood, with a savage smile across her face. "Is he among the trash? The weak heroes?" she asked. Her smile was jagged and savage, nothing like the holy iconic figure everyone knew. "Yes, it's even a B-rank, apparently." "Oh, perfect," the Saintess whispered, her eyes locking onto Kyoto's terrified face with a creepy smile. She picked up a scalpel, still dripping with blood. "Let me finish with this one first. He's been screaming for twenty minutes… I'm almost done with him anyway." Kyoto looked at the table. The "hero" currently being carved up wasn't dead yet. It was the squad member who had spat on him just yesterday. --- 5 years later, thanks to Kaito once more, the Demon Lord was killed with fewer casualties than before. This time, he didn't obliterate the Demon Lord like before. He killed and decapitated him with fewer injuries. Now Kaito was leading the Hero Army back to camp after their victorious campaign. Abyss Land: The Dark Forest. "Kaito, why are you walking so fast?" Yuna asked, her voice sharp with annoyance. She raced after him, trying to keep up with his speed. "You've been acting weird since earlier." Kaito didn't look back. He kept walking silently, his eyes focused on the road. The usual warmth he possessed was gone, now replaced by cold tension. "Kaito! I'm talking to you!" Yuna snapped, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him backward. "What, Yuna? What!" Kaito shouted, spinning around. The severed head of the Demon Lord dripped blood across the forest floor. "I just want to hand over this fucking head and get the fuck out of this fucking Empire!" "...So Hero, you really intend to leave us?" The Saintess stepped out from the shadows of the rotting trees, her white robes glowing brightly against the gloomy abyss. "Saintess," Kaito said, trying to steady himself. "I'm done. I'm leaving this war to settle in some quiet countryside kingdom until I find a way back to my country. My job is finished here." "I see," she murmured with a smile, her expression masked behind divinity. "Anyways, Hero, take this. It's a high-grade recovery potion for your fatigue. Consider it my parting gift to you." Kaito didn't hesitate. He smiled first, then took the vial and drained it in one go. The effect was instant. It wasn't the warmth of cells healing themselves, but that of cells rupturing. His mana, which had remained steady even while fighting the Demon Lord, began flowing backward. He collapsed as blood dripped from his facial openings. "Kaito!" Yuna and the nearby heroes rushed forward, but they were cut down by assassins moving with precision. The elite shadows of the Church knocked them unconscious before they could even draw their weapons. Kaito looked up at the dark sky, blood spilling from his mouth. "Not again... fuck... Saintess, it's you this time?" "No hard feelings, Hero," she said, her voice calm as usual. "You've become a threat. Your strength is growing too rapidly, and the Church cannot have a weapon it cannot control. You just have to die." Kaito let out a dry laugh as everything began fading. "Hahaha... betrayed twice... what a fucked-up life." With a broken smile and a blood-stained face, Kaito felt his heart slowly come to a stop for the second time.Latest Chapter
CHAPTER 37: THE POISONOUS AFTERMATH
"Careful with that," Yasha said, his voice raspy but steady, deliberately keeping his panic in check. He kept his palms flat and visible against the hay bedding. "If you wanted me dead, you shouldn't have waited until I woke up."The elf’s grip on the hilt tightened, her knuckles turning white. Despite her lethal posture, a subtle tremor ran through her arms, and her breath came in shallow, uneven gasps. The residual flush of the aphrodisiac was entirely gone, replaced by a volatile mixture of fierce indignation and vulnerability."Who are you?" she demanded, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "And what did you do to me?""Saved your life, mostly," Yasha replied coolly, flicking his eyes toward the torn flap of the tent. "Unless you'd prefer to still be at the mercy of the elite goblins I had to clear out. The poison they hit you with didn't exactly leave room for a polite conversation."Her eyes flicked down to her own bare skin, then back to Yasha, the reality of the situation c
CHAPTER 36: POISONOUS DESIRES
She slowly moved her head even closer, taking the length of his massive dick deep into her throat before sliding back down to lick his balls while her fingers wrapped tightly around his shaft, stroking it slowly. Yasha could feel the incredible heat and pressure from her mouth alone—a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced. She moved with absolute precision, clearly craving his warm cum. Before long, his legs could no longer bear the tension. Driven by a sudden, intense surge of possession, he lifted her straight off her knees and carried her into the tent that had belonged to the elite goblins he had slain earlier, laying her down softly on the bed of hay at the center of the space. Yasha slowly traced his hands along her neck, dipping lower across her slightly exposed breasts. Her face flushed deeper with his slightest touch, caught in a hazy blur of submission. Whether it was the thrill of being so exposed in a tent with no cover—completely visible to any traveler
CHAPTER 35: THE PRICE OF PURITY
Yasha didn't wait any longer as he instantly lunged himself forward like a released spring, his boots moving silently across the damp forest floor.His sword was aimed at the goblins, who were still distracted by their own cruelty, and their loud, creepy laughter drowned out even the slightest sound as he approached.The leader was already reaching for the tent flap when Yasha's sword struck him cleanly.Flash.His sword moved in a clean, silver arc, severing the leader's head before they could even realize they were under attack. The heavy body slumped into the mud, with thick, greenish blood gushing out of it.The remaining two goblins froze, their eyes widening in shock. But it was only for a brief moment. The mage among them recovered instantly, his hands glowing with a bright orange light as mana gathered around them.Pointing a crooked finger toward Yasha while shouting the activation incantation, he sent a torrent of molten fire surging through the air, hot enough to slightly m
CHAPTER 34: THE SHADOW SOVEREIGN
Sixth Floor Boss Room.Yasha's hands pressed against the side of his abdomen, casting healing spells on the deep wound he got from the Boss's attack earlier.He didn't have the time to rest or wail about the pain. He had to keep moving, healing himself as he dodged incoming attacks."Left, three o'clock," Yasha shouted, his voice cold and loud, as his sword sliced through another Black Knight.Without a second thought, one of his shadows—a tall figure with an incredible physique that once belonged to a Sixth-Rank guard from the Dead Cross—lunged forward, catching the blast of demonic fire aimed at Yasha's heart with its own body.Although the attack sent him flying, it was as though its body had absorbed the massive attack and stored it, sending out a large burst of mana straight back at the demon.Sending him crashing against the stone wall.Before he could even recuperate, Yasha was already in the air, his boots using the jagged stone wall as a foothold to launch himself directly ov
CHAPTER 33: THE HOLLOW CROWN
Inside a tavern packed with the thick air of intense cigarette smoke, liquor, and the odor from the unwashed bodies of different mercenaries. A kind of place where the best rumors that start as whispers move beyond control in less than a week, the birthplace of most rumors. "Did you hear?" one of them asked, his voice barely audible over the rowdy crowd. "They say the Dead Cross—the entire organization on the third floor—it’s gone. Wiped out in a single night." A man across from him scoffed, slamming his mug down. "Impossible. They have at least a thousand men on this floor alone, not even excluding the fact that they are made up of hundreds of Fourth-Rank Sword Experts and even the elite of the elite, a Sixth Rank. They also have connections to the deeper floors. There is no way a powerhouse like that was wiped out in just one night by someone on the third floor. It’s probably just a power struggle. A top-tier guild from the eighth floor must have come down to clean house." "That
CHAPTER 32: THE ASHES OF REMORSE
Silas sat relaxed on the high-backed chair with composure, a rusted-looking dagger being twisted between his fingers, his expression displaying a victorious smirk. The room around him was far from silent, murmurs coming from the guards, some confident while others were frightened by the blood-covered sight of Yasha. Cries could be heard coming from the side of the room where Elara and the remaining two guild members were held at knifepoint. "I suppose," Silas said, his voice calm as he slammed the blunt dagger into the desk beside him, "that since we’ve come to an impasse, one of you has to go. I made a bet on that. Too bad he didn't come earlier." His fingers tapped slowly against the arm of his chair. Without Silas even looking back or uttering another word, the guard's blade instantly slit Mira's throat open. What followed was a horrific burst of noise from her twin brother, Jax. Raw, agonizing cries echoed through the room as Jax fought with every ounce of strength left in his
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