Chapter 3: Let This World Fall
Qin Chu’s outburst, a classic curse from his world, hung in the air.
“Save your sister…” he muttered under his breath, his anger simmering.
The surrounding Sages gasped, their frail bodies trembling. Such vulgarity! Was this truly a Hero? Perhaps they had summoned a Demon King by mistake?
Their shock was understandable. But Qin Chu couldn’t bring himself to care. He had been ripped from his world, thrust into this strange land on the brink of destruction. He felt like a protagonist in a poorly written novel, burdened with the weight of their expectations.
Initially, he felt no real connection to this world. But then, he had saved a young boy from a pack of Demon Beasts. The boy’s trembling gratitude, the look of awe in his eyes, sparked something within him.
Helping others, he realized, was a surprisingly fulfilling experience.
He had shared boisterous meals and drunken laughter with the Hero Squad, their camaraderie forging a bond he hadn’t expected. He trusted them with his life, knowing they would always have his back.
And then there was Loseweisse. His feelings for her, a confusing mix of adoration and insecurity, were unlike anything he had ever experienced. He preened like a peacock, eager to impress her, yet trembled like a frightened mouse, terrified of doing something wrong, of shattering the image she had of him.
For the first time in his life, Qin Chu understood the true meaning of anxiety.
He had poured his heart and soul into saving this world, risking his life countless times, his body a tapestry of scars.
To minimize casualties, he had faced the Eternal Monarch alone, pushing himself to the brink of death. With one final, desperate blow, he had cleaved the earth, forcing millions of Demon Beasts to retreat into the abyss.
And what was his reward?
Betrayal.
The woman he loved had never reciprocated his feelings. His closest comrades had seen him as nothing more than a weapon, a tool to be used and discarded.
The royals, the nobles, the Church—they all saw him as a threat to their power.
The people he had bled for treated his blood as a magical elixir, a cure-all for their petty ailments.
The very people he had saved with his own two hands had cheered for his death, their faces contorted with glee as his body was torn asunder.
The soldiers celebrated his demise, their pockets lined with blood money.
In the end, he had nothing left.
The depth of his former love was now matched only by the intensity of his hatred.
“Save them?” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “It’s your fault I’m even here! You and your stupid summoning ritual!”
If he had the chance to do it all again, he would watch the world burn. He would relish in their suffering. He wanted to rip Natia’s beautiful face to shreds.
And for a fleeting moment, he almost did.
His hand shot out, aiming for her delicate features, driven by a primal urge to inflict pain.
Natia, caught off guard by his sudden outburst and the unexpected contact, froze. Her eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as she struggled to comprehend the situation.
Qin Chu’s fingers brushed against her lips.
The surrounding Sages gasped, their faces paling.
They knew of Natia’s fiery temper, her fierce pride. Though she usually presented a calm, collected facade, any unwanted advances from the opposite sex were met with swift and brutal retribution.
Summoning a Hero was no easy feat. Losing one, even one as volatile as this, would have dire consequences. The Heavenly Continent wouldn’t be able to perform another summoning for at least three years. They would be at the mercy of the Demon Beasts.
No, considering their current state, they might not even last that long.
They silently pleaded with Natia to restrain herself, to ignore the transgression.
Perhaps their prayers were answered, or perhaps Qin Chu’s actions were so out of left field that Natia was momentarily stunned into inaction. But whatever the reason, she remained frozen in place, her wide eyes locked on his.
Just as Qin Chu prepared to follow through with his threat, a searing pain lanced through his mind.
The rage, the madness that had clouded his judgment, receded like a receding tide.
The hatred remained, a smoldering ember in his chest, but his rational mind reasserted itself.
Something wasn’t right.
If this was truly a dying dream, a final hurrah of his fading consciousness, it felt far too real.
The moonlight cast long shadows across the platform. He could feel the chill mountain air against his skin, hear the rustling of leaves in the wind.
The chirping of crickets, the distant hoot of an owl—all of it felt undeniably real.
He could even smell the crisp night air.
This level of sensory detail, the sheer vividness of it all—it couldn’t be a mere figment of his imagination.
Which meant…
“So, you’ve finally come to your senses… This was the moment you first arrived in the Heavenly Continent,” a familiar voice whispered, not in his ear, but directly into his mind.
A lock of silver hair brushed against his cheek.
Qin Chu’s blood ran cold. He whirled around.
A beautiful woman leaned against his shoulder, her silver hair dancing in the wind, her crimson eyes gleaming with an unsettling light. Her features were breathtaking, her figure the very definition of perfection.
It was none other than Shaye Nigulas, the Dark Witch.
His eyes narrowed, but before his fear could morph into panic, a strange calmness washed over him.
The most powerful, most alluring Witch in existence was casually draped over his shoulder, her cherry-red lips close to his ear. Yet, her voice echoed only in the confines of his mind.
He glanced at the Sages. They were still watching him, their faces etched with worry, seemingly oblivious to her presence. They would never react this way if they could see her.
Which meant they couldn’t.
“Indeed. My existence is… peculiar at the moment. They can’t perceive me,” Shaye Nigulas confirmed, as if reading his thoughts. “Now then, how about we make a deal? Let’s corrupt this world together.”
Corrupt? Now that was an idea he could get behind.
While he yearned to unleash his rage, to bathe in the blood of his enemies, he knew it was an impossible feat in his current state. But perhaps there were other ways to make them pay.
Killing them outright would be too merciful. He would make them suffer. He would make them understand true despair.
He would make this world hurt.
His gaze fell upon Natia.
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Her chest rose and fell with each rapid breath, her petite frame radiating an alluring vulnerability.
Her reaction… it was most intriguing.
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