Category: Dear, it’s time for your medicine!

Chapter 22: Witch, or Valkyrie?

When the male form dominated, the Yin-Yang Demon possessed immense strength. When the female form took over, it moved with the swiftness of the wind.

Its mismatched lips curled into a grotesque smile, revealing a gaping maw, its tongue writhing like a serpent, tasting the air, anticipating its feast.

A chill settled upon the tavern, the temperature dropping noticeably.

Qin Chu shivered, rubbing his arms, goosebumps erupting across his skin.

What a pathetic Hero, Matras thought, its amusement growing. He was oblivious to the danger lurking behind him.

This Hero was a fool. Did he truly not understand his own vulnerability? To wander into the slums alone, without his guards, to indulge in a late-night drink…

It had never encountered such a reckless individual.

He was a far cry from the First Hero, Jie Luo.

If it hadn’t been for the Phantom Demon’s mark, it would have doubted his authenticity.

He hadn’t even noticed its approach, hadn’t sensed the shift in the atmosphere.

This assassination would be easier than expected.

A flicker of doubt, however, nagged at Matras. Why was the Hero here, in Candice’s tavern?

Surely, a Hero with his status could afford to drink in the finest establishments in the inner city.

And where was Candice?

That half-breed, with her tainted human blood, had likely failed to detect the Phantom Demon’s mark. Typical.

She dared to dream of acceptance among the Demonfolk?

Preposterous. Serving them was a privilege, an honor. They would never accept a creature with human blood flowing through its veins.

Except for the Witches, of course. They were too powerful to ignore.

Matras dismissed those thoughts, its focus returning to the task at hand.

The glory of slaying the Hero.

Success would elevate its status in the eyes of its master, earning it a handsome reward.

Perhaps it could even use the reward to break through its current bottleneck, to achieve a higher level of power.

It had to act quickly. Other Demon assassins lurked in the city, their hunger for glory no less ravenous than its own.

The world around Qin Chu seemed to dim, as if a thick fog had descended upon the tavern.

Matras, its movements as silent and fluid as a falling leaf, drifted towards him, its grotesque face contorting into a predatory grin.

Its right hand swelled, its fingers thickening, its left leg drawing back as it prepared to strike, its fist aimed at Qin Chu’s heart.

It wasn’t using its full strength, but it was confident that the blow would be fatal. The Hero, newly summoned, his body still weak and unaccustomed to this world’s harsh realities, wouldn’t be able to withstand its might. Its fist could shatter steel, pulverize stone.

The Hero’s chest would cave in, its fingers easily tearing through flesh and bone to claim his heart.

Boom!

The air crackled as its fist connected, the force of the blow shattering the bar, sending splinters of wood flying.

Bottles and glasses exploded, their contents splattering across the floor, the scent of alcohol filling the air.

Its fist had pierced the Hero’s chest, as expected. But the sensation… it was wrong. It hadn’t felt the satisfying resistance of flesh and bone.

The Hero’s body shattered like a mirror, its fragments dissolving into thin air.

Matras whirled around, its eyes searching the room.

In the corner, a few meters away, the Hero’s form solidified, reassembling itself from the shadows.

An illusion!

Damn it! When had he learned magic?

He shouldn’t have had the time!

A sense of unease, a premonition of danger, gnawed at Matras. This wasn’t going as planned.

But the allure of glory, of slaying the Hero, was too strong to resist.

Its face shifted, the feminine half expanding, consuming the masculine features, until only a woman’s visage remained.

It lunged towards Qin Chu, its right foot slamming against the floor, propelling its body upwards.

A hand, slender yet strong, landed on its shoulder.

Slap!

Crash!

Its body, momentarily airborne, was slammed back to the ground with bone-jarring force.

The floor cracked, the impact sending a shockwave through Matras’s body. It coughed up a mouthful of blood, its vision blurring.

Candice stood behind it, her high-heeled shoe pressing down on its face, grinding its cheek against the rough stone floor.

Her leg, exposed beneath her skirt, gleamed in the lamplight, its smooth skin as flawless as polished jade.

Her slender frame seemed to possess an impossible strength, her grip unyielding despite Matras’s desperate struggles.

“Shaye,” Qin Chu said mentally, his voice laced with amusement. “Are you sure this woman has the makings of a Witch? She seems more like a Valkyrie.”

Witch?

She hadn’t used any magic, at least not in the traditional sense. She had simply slapped the Demon into submission.

“Well, she can be both,” Shaye replied, her voice nonchalant.

Matras, its body writhing like a worm, its vision clearing, finally recognized its attacker.

“Candice, you treacherous bitch!” it roared, its voice laced with fury. “You dare betray your master?”

Its eyes, both now crimson red, blazed with hatred.

That damn half-breed! It should have known better than to trust her.

Candice, disgusted by its words, twisted her heel, grinding it into Matras’s mouth, silencing its tirade.

“He’s all yours, Great Horus,” she said, bowing respectfully to Qin Chu.

Qin Chu, uninterested in the Demon’s pathetic pleas, approached it. To him, it was nothing more than an experience piñata, its level slightly lower than the Phantom Demon he had devoured earlier.

Still, it would provide a welcome boost to his power.

He squatted before it, ignoring its hateful gaze, his hand resting on its forehead.

“Devourer.”

Candice gasped, a wave of primal fear washing over her. Though he hadn’t touched her, she felt his power, a terrifying force that made her magic, her Battle Qi, churn within her, threatening to escape her control.

To her horror, Matras’s body, previously plump and feminine, rapidly withered, its flesh shrinking, its bones becoming visible beneath its translucent skin.

Its screams morphed into whimpers, its rage replaced by a desperate plea for mercy.

He was draining its life force, its very essence.

But that wasn’t all.

An invisible energy, bypassing her shoe, flowed into her through her foot, drawing her own magic and Battle Qi towards him, like water rushing towards a drain.

Chapter 21: The Hero’s Life, It Will Take

Back then, the position of Pope held no allure for Augustus. His heart belonged solely to Lose Phyllis.

They had entered the temple, their hands clasped, their dreams intertwined, ready to perform their final duty as the Holy Son and Holy Maiden.

Neither of them knew that they were stepping into a nightmare.

The temple doors closed behind them, sealing their fate.

They performed the customary rituals, cleaning the statues, kneeling before them, offering their prayers.

Everything seemed normal, routine.

And then, the horror began.

The statues, bathed in an ethereal glow, stirred. Augustus and Lose Phyllis, their hearts filled with a naive reverence, believed it was a sign of divine favor.

They prostrated themselves, their foreheads pressed against the cold stone floor, their voices chanting praises to the gods.

But the glow intensified, twisting and contorting, forming grotesque limbs, tentacles writhing like serpents, wrapping around Lose Phyllis’s body.

Augustus, paralyzed by an unseen force, could only watch in horror, his screams echoing through the empty temple.

Seven twisted beings, their forms shifting and shimmering, their presence a violation of all that was holy, took turns tormenting Lose Phyllis throughout the night.

They reveled in her despair, her screams music to their ears.

The gods, the beings he had worshipped, were more monstrous than any Demon he had ever encountered.

He had believed they were benevolent, merciful, protectors of humanity.

But now he knew the truth. They were nothing more than powerful beasts, their desires base and cruel, their methods depraved.

The next morning, Lose Phyllis was pregnant.

Three years later, she gave birth to a baby girl: Loseweisse.

Augustus’s feelings towards Loseweisse were a tangled mess of love, hate, and revulsion. She was the only remaining piece of the woman he had loved, but she also carried the taint of the gods, a constant reminder of his shattered faith, his unbearable loss.

He didn’t know which of the seven gods had fathered her.

He both adored her and loathed her, his heart torn between conflicting emotions.

Lose Phyllis, the once vibrant and innocent girl, was broken. The horrors she had endured had shattered her mind, her sanity a casualty of the gods’ cruel whims.

The pure and virtuous Holy Maiden had become a shadow of her former self, her eyes vacant, her body a vessel for their twisted desires.

Augustus knew it wasn’t her fault. She was strong, resilient. He believed she could have recovered, could have overcome the trauma, the violation.

But the gods’ power was too great, their influence too insidious.

He had merely witnessed their actions, and it had nearly shattered his own mind, his eyes bleeding, his sanity hanging by a thread.

Lose Phyllis, directly subjected to their power, their essence, had been irrevocably corrupted.

Augustus’s faith, once unwavering, crumbled that day.

The gods, the beings he had worshipped, had treated him, their loyal servant, like a plaything, their actions a mockery of his devotion.

His faith morphed into a burning desire for revenge. He craved power, sought it relentlessly, his methods growing increasingly ruthless as he climbed the ranks of the Holy See, eventually claiming the position of Pope.

He would defy the gods.

He would kill them.

But the more he learned about them, the more he understood the vast gulf that separated them.

He discovered the truth about their world, about the limitations of humanity.

Mortals couldn’t defeat gods.

Only power from beyond their world, from beyond their understanding, could challenge their dominion.

He had almost despaired, until the Hero arrived.

A being from another world, wielding power beyond the comprehension of the Heavenly Continent’s inhabitants. He was Augustus’s only hope.

But Augustus, his mind twisted by his past trauma, his faith replaced by a cynical paranoia, trusted no one, not even the Hero. He had to control him, to manipulate him, to ensure that this power served his own agenda.

He would turn the Hero into a puppet, a weapon to be wielded against the gods.

It might take years, decades even, but he was patient. He would wait.

Loseweisse, watching the Pope depart, her face darkened.

She had overheard his conversation with Angelica.

Angelica, the next Holy Maiden?

Preposterous. The title belonged to her, and she wouldn’t allow anyone, not even the Pope, to take it from her.

She felt threatened, her position, her very identity, challenged. And it was all Qin Chu’s fault.

She smiled, a wistful longing filling her eyes. Jie Luo, she thought, he was the true Hero. Qin Chu was nothing but a pale imitation.

She retrieved a scroll from her pocket, a gift from a mysterious and powerful benefactor.

It contained a spell, a ritual unlike anything she had ever seen.

Resurrection.

The blood of a successor could open the gateway to the First Hero’s return.

If she could gather Jie Luo’s scattered soul fragments, she could use Qin Chu’s blood, his life force, as a sacrifice, bringing her beloved Hero back to life.

Madness and reason warred within her. This was beyond her capabilities. She needed help.

“Message!” she whispered, activating the spell.

“Ekaterina, it’s me. Return to the capital immediately. I’ve found a way to resurrect Jie Luo.”

She began contacting her former comrades, summoning them to her side.

…

In the slums of the Auville Empire’s capital, Qin Chu sat at the bar, his fingers tapping against the countertop.

The Demon’s presence grew stronger, its aura drawing closer.

A diamond-shaped mark, etched onto the back of his hand, pulsed with a faint glow.

The Phantom Demon’s parting gift, a beacon guiding the assassins to their target.

His shadow, elongated and distorted by the silvery moonlight, stretched across the floor, resembling a grotesque puppet.

From behind, he looked human, his form indistinguishable from any other patron. But his face, a horrifying amalgamation of mismatched features, betrayed his true nature.

One half of his face was rough and bearded, the other smooth and delicate, the two halves fused together in a jarring, unnatural union.

One eye glared with a murderous rage, the other fluttered coquettishly.

The division extended to his entire body, a clear line separating the masculine and feminine halves, as if two corpses, one male, one female, had been stitched together.

A Yin-Yang Demon, also known as a… Corpse Demon!

Its mismatched eyes, one crimson, one azure, fixed on Qin Chu’s back.

Its lips curled into a grotesque smile, revealing rows of jagged teeth.

The Hero’s life, it would claim.

This glory would belong to the great Matras!

 

Chapter 20: Angelica Must Die

The next Holy Maiden?

Angelica’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. A flicker of excitement, of ambition rekindled, sparked in her eyes. She had thought escaping Loseweisse’s clutches was a miracle in itself. Now, the prospect of reclaiming her former glory, of ascending to the coveted position of Holy Maiden, was almost too much to bear.

Ever since she had joined the Holy See as a young girl, she had dedicated her life to becoming the Holy Maiden, only to have her dreams shattered, her world turned upside down.

She had believed that the title, once so close, was forever beyond her reach.

A surge of excitement, of longing for a future she had thought lost, coursed through her veins.

But then, a wave of doubt washed over her, extinguishing the initial euphoria.

Was she truly excited?

She wasn’t sure.

She had expected to be overjoyed, to jump for joy, but the feeling was fleeting, quickly replaced by a strange sense of detachment.

The title of Holy Maiden no longer held the same allure.

The only aspect that truly appealed to her was the prospect of being with Qin Chu, of becoming his wife, their union legitimized by her elevated status.

She knew she owed everything to him.

If he hadn’t chosen her, would Pope Augustus have intervened, preventing Loseweisse from harming her? No.

If he hadn’t chosen her, would the Pope have offered to clear her name, to reinstate her as the next Holy Maiden? No.

Everything she had now, she owed to Qin Chu. The Pope’s promises were merely a means to an end, a way to control her, to influence the Hero, to further the Church’s agenda.

She was no longer a naive girl, blindly following orders. She understood the game, the subtle manipulations, the power dynamics at play.

He might have chosen her for her body, for her maid status, but at least he treated her like a human being. To the Pope, she was a tool, nothing more.

Her life had changed because of Qin Chu’s choice.

She scoffed inwardly, but her expression remained carefully neutral. She couldn’t afford to antagonize the Pope, not yet, not while she was still under his control.

“I understand, Your Holiness,” she said, her voice carefully modulated.

Pope Augustus, pleased with her response, nodded. “Good. Serve the Hero well, Angelica. The Church will not forget your loyalty.”

He watched her depart, his eyes narrowing, a flicker of malice hidden beneath his benevolent facade.

He could see through her feigned obedience. She hadn’t truly submitted.

But he wouldn’t act now. The Hero was still new to their world. Creating unnecessary complications at this stage would be foolish. He had summoned Angelica back to the Church. If she died here, under his roof, the Hero would surely be suspicious, regardless of the circumstances.

Back in her chambers, Loseweisse sat before her vanity, the shattered mirror reflecting her distorted image.

She massaged her cheeks, trying to compose herself, to erase the traces of anger and frustration that marred her usually serene features. As the Holy Maiden, she had to maintain an image of grace and composure. Her earlier outburst had been unbecoming.

A knock on the door startled her. “Enter,” she said, her voice regaining its usual melodic tone.

She knew who it was.

Pope Augustus entered, his gaze sweeping across the room, taking in the shattered remnants of her rage.

“Loseweisse,” he said, his voice quiet, his expression unreadable. “Were you trying to kill Angelica?”

He was irritated. This new Hero, with his unpredictable actions and unconventional desires, had disrupted his carefully laid plans. He had been forced to lower himself, to engage in damage control.

“Of course not, Your Holiness,” Loseweisse replied, her smile sweet and innocent. “I would never do such a thing, not within the Church’s hallowed halls.”

Her tone, however, lacked the usual deference she displayed towards him in public.

The Pope, as if accustomed to her dual nature, ignored her subtle disrespect.

“Good,” he said, his gaze fixed on her. “Angelica cannot die… not yet.”

“If Qin Chu had chosen you after her death, then it wouldn’t matter. But as it stands, her demise would likely alienate him, pushing him into the arms of Saint Monique or Wadsworth. Those two vultures are just waiting for an opportunity to exploit him.”

Loseweisse glanced at her fingernails, their sharp edges glinting in the lamplight. Her fingers twitched, her murderous urge difficult to suppress, even now.

“Don’t blame me,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“Angelica must die,” the Pope continued, his voice taking on a colder, more calculating tone.

“She hates the Church, Loseweisse. She will never truly be on our side. But we must eliminate her without implicating ourselves. Understand?”

Loseweisse’s eyes gleamed, her lips curving into a predatory smile. She stood, her movements graceful and fluid, her voice soft and sweet. “As you command, Your Holiness. I understand.”

“You are my godfather,” she added, her gaze meeting his. “I wouldn’t be the Holy Maiden without your support. I am eternally grateful for your guidance. How could I possibly blame you?”

Her words were honeyed poison, her smile a mask hiding a venomous heart.

The Pope frowned, a flicker of unease crossing his face.

He chose to ignore her veiled threat. “Get some rest, Loseweisse. You have that tea party tomorrow, hosted by the Duke’s daughter. I trust you will be well-rested and presentable. We must maintain the Church’s image.”

He turned to leave, but as he reached the door, his benevolent facade crumbled, his face twisting into a grotesque mask of hatred, his eyes burning with a crimson fire.

Loseweisse, you wretched creature…

His thoughts drifted back to a time long past.

The Holy See worshipped the Goddess of Holy Light.

But they also paid homage to other deities: the Sun God, the God of War, the Elemental Gods…

The Pope was the supreme authority, his position unchallenged.

Below him were two unique roles: the Holy Son and the Holy Maiden.

Only the most pure and beautiful youths were chosen for these positions, their presence a symbol of the Church’s divine mandate.

They were meant to serve the gods.

At least, that was the official explanation. In reality, the Church had never sacrificed a Holy Son or Holy Maiden. Their “service” consisted of kneeling before the statues, offering prayers on designated holy days.

And the Church didn’t forbid marriage.

Though some chose to remain celibate, their devotion to the gods overriding their earthly desires, most eventually succumbed to the natural urge to procreate.

Even the Holy Son and Holy Maiden, once they reached a certain age, were free to pursue marriage and family life.

Pope Augustus, in his youth, had been the Holy Son.

The Holy Maiden during his tenure was… Lose Phyllis.

Their shared status, their constant proximity as they learned the intricacies of courtly etiquette, had fostered a bond between them, a quiet affection that blossomed into love.

Neither of them could pinpoint the exact moment their feelings shifted, when their friendship transformed into something deeper, more profound.

Even he, the future Pope, had been young and foolish once.

They loved each other, but they honored their vows, maintaining their purity, their physical intimacy postponed until their service to the gods was complete.

The stolen glances, the shared smiles, the unspoken promises… it was enough, for now.

The annual day of service arrived, their final duty as the Holy Son and Holy Maiden.

They stood before the temple, their fingers intertwined, their hearts filled with hope. Tonight, their service would end. They would announce their love to the world…

And then, they would marry.

With dreams of a happy future, they entered the temple.

Chapter 19: The Next Holy Maiden

Loseweisse wasn’t usually an impulsive woman, but her hatred for Angelica had consumed her, twisting her thoughts, fueling her darkest desires.

In the past, she had treated Angelica like a plaything, a source of amusement and sadistic pleasure. It had been enjoyable, watching her once-formidable rival reduced to a broken, subservient shadow.

But she had never imagined that Angelica would have the audacity to rise again, to steal her spotlight, her glory.

The thought filled her with a venomous rage. She regretted sparing Angelica’s life. Such a creature should have been eliminated, her existence erased.

If Angelica had been dead, she wouldn’t have been at the banquet.

Loseweisse was certain that Qin Chu had only chosen Angelica because of his maid fetish. Without the maid, he would have chosen her, the Holy Maiden, the most desirable woman in the land.

Her regret, her hatred, twisted her thoughts, pushing her towards the brink of madness.

If only Angelica had never existed…

The thought took root in her mind, blossoming into a dark obsession.

Kill her.

The urge to eliminate her rival grew stronger with each passing moment.

Angelica, though possessing some magical talent, was powerless, her strength sealed by the collar she wore. Killing her would be effortless.

And afterwards, she could simply blame it on the Demons.

After all, if they could infiltrate the banquet and attack the Hero, surely they could kill the woman he had chosen?

There might be some suspicion, but it wouldn’t matter. The Church would handle everything, ensuring that all evidence pointed to the Demons. And Qin Chu, a newcomer to their world, would have no choice but to accept their version of events.

Besides, Loseweisse doubted he would care that much. He was infatuated with maids, not with Angelica specifically. They had only met a few hours ago. How much could he possibly care? She could easily replace her with a dozen other maids, soothing his bruised ego.

She smiled, her expression a mask of gentle concern, as she approached Angelica.

Angelica, sensing the murderous intent hidden beneath that saccharine smile, backed away, her throat tightening, her body trembling. “Mistress, what are you doing?” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

“You can’t kill me…”

“The Hero won’t allow it.”

She didn’t want to die, not now, not after finally finding a glimmer of hope, a chance at a new life.

Loseweisse laughed, her voice cold and mocking. “Still clinging to the Hero, are we?”

“Don’t be delusional, Angelica. He doesn’t care for you.”

“He likes maids. That’s all. He likes the uniform, the subservience. He doesn’t care about you as a person. Don’t worry, once you’re gone, I’ll wear a maid outfit for him. I’ll make him forget you ever existed.”

“Imagine that, Angelica. The Holy Maiden, dressed as a maid, just for him. He’ll be thrilled.”

Angelica’s face paled, her mind rebelling against Loseweisse’s cruel words.

No, she thought, her heart clenching. Qin Chu wasn’t like that. He was kind, compassionate.

She backed away, but there was nowhere to run.

Just as Loseweisse was about to close the distance, a figure stepped between them.

“Loseweisse, what are you doing?”

Loseweisse turned, her gaze falling upon Pope Augustus. He had just concluded his meeting with the Emperor and the High Priestess.

“Nothing, Your Holiness,” she replied, her smile returning, all traces of malice vanished. “Just saying goodbye to my little maid. I’ve grown rather fond of her, you see. It’s hard to let her go.”

She had effortlessly resumed her Holy Maiden persona, her voice soft and sweet, her expression serene.

“I see,” the Pope said, his gaze fixed on Angelica. “I need to speak with her.”

“Of course, Your Holiness,” Loseweisse replied, bowing her head respectfully. “I’ll take my leave.”

She turned, her smile widening.

The moment she was out of sight, her expression twisted into a grotesque mask of hatred.

The Pope turned to Angelica, his gaze stern yet reassuring. “Angelica,” he said, his voice calm and measured. “Congratulations. The Hero has chosen you. It is a great honor.”

“Serve him well, and do not disappoint him. Understand?”

He hadn’t needed to speak to her personally. As the Pope, he could have easily summoned her or sent a messenger. But he wanted to demonstrate his… concern.

Even if it meant compromising his dignity, he would personally oversee this matter. After all, sometimes, condescension was the most effective form of manipulation.

He had saved her, she realized, a flicker of gratitude warming her heart. But it was a fleeting emotion, quickly replaced by a cynical awareness of his true intentions.

He saw her as a tool, nothing more.

“The Hero is crucial to the Heavenly Continent’s survival,” the Pope continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “We cannot afford any mistakes. You must fulfill his every desire, no matter how… unconventional.”

There it was. Angelica sighed inwardly. The Holy See, encouraging her to… compromise her morals?

She wasn’t surprised. She had known, the moment she accepted Qin Chu’s proposal, that she would likely be forced to make… sacrifices.

“You will be his constant companion,” the Pope said, his gaze piercing hers. “Observe his actions, his interactions, his words. Report everything to me.”

“This is not to spy on him, Angelica. It is for his own good. He might possess two Super-tier Abilities, but he is still a newcomer to our world, easily manipulated. There are those who would exploit him, twist his power to their own ends. I will not allow that to happen.”

Angelica remained silent, her expression unreadable.

The Pope, unfazed by her lack of response, continued. “And one more thing.”

“I will reopen the investigation into the Holy Maiden selection incident.”

Angelica’s head snapped up, her eyes widening in disbelief.

“The previous Pope had just stepped down. My authority was still tenuous. I wanted to investigate, but… there were… obstacles.”

“This time, I will get to the bottom of this. I will clear your name.”

“And then…”

“I will appoint you as the next Holy Maiden.”

“Serve the Hero well, Angelica. I have great faith in you. Once you become the Holy Maiden, you will be a worthy match for him. You can finally marry him, without shame.”

…

“Achoo!”

Qin Chu rubbed his nose, a shiver running down his spine.

Someone was talking about him, he thought.

He dismissed the feeling, his focus on Candice and her impending… demonstration of loyalty.

The bar was empty, Candice nowhere in sight. The Succubus Princess had transformed into a hunter, her prey a fellow Demon.

 

Chapter 18: What If I Kill Angelica Now? 

Qin Chu wanted Candice on his side.

It had nothing to do with her beauty or her alluring figure.

He knew that, as the Hero, he could have any woman he desired. A snap of his fingers would bring a bevy of eager noblewomen to his doorstep.

But that held no appeal for him.

Candice’s value lay in her unique position, her connection to the Demons, her ability to gather information.

He wouldn’t take unnecessary risks, not after his previous life’s brutal lessons.

He had chosen her because he understood her, knew of her growing disillusionment with the Demons, her yearning for acceptance.

And, of course, his decision was also based on his newfound strength.

He wouldn’t have attempted this risky maneuver without the power boost he had gained from devouring the Phantom Demon.

He was still weaker than the approaching Demon, and far weaker than Candice, whose magical prowess was likely around level fifty.

But he had Rage, a Super-tier Ability that amplified his strength in proportion to his anger. And his rage, fueled by the memories of his previous life’s betrayal, burned with a white-hot intensity.

Rage Explosion could temporarily double his power, granting him a fighting chance, or at least enough strength to escape if things went south.

Candice, after a moment of stunned silence, nodded. The request, though unusual, wasn’t unreasonable.

He understood her, just as she was beginning to understand him. Abandoned by her father, used by her mother, ridiculed and abused by both humans and Demons… she had grown numb to their petty squabbles, their hypocritical judgments.

Years of servitude, of enduring their insults and betrayals, had eroded her loyalty.

She wanted a place to belong, someone to accept her, someone to make her feel less alone.

Whether that someone was a human, a Demon, or this enigmatic Horus… it didn’t matter.

Besides, she wasn’t the Succubus Queen’s only daughter. Her half-sisters, all pure-blooded Demons, despised her, their jealousy manifesting in subtle sabotages and even outright assassination attempts.

Her patience had worn thin.

She had no qualms about killing a Demon. But where was this Demon?

They were alone in the tavern. Surely, he didn’t expect her to kill herself?

A moment later, she sensed it, a faint disturbance in the magical flow, a presence approaching.

Her gaze snapped to Qin Chu.

She hadn’t sensed anything, not until he had alerted her.

How powerful was he?

He had clearly detected the approaching Demon long before she had.

Her respect for him, for his power, deepened.

…

Smash!

Crash!

Shatter!

Loseweisse, her rage a tempestuous storm, destroyed everything in her path.

Delicate teacups, crystal figurines, a gilded mirror… all reduced to shards, their remains littering the floor.

She hated Qin Chu for daring to become the Hero.

She hated him for rejecting her.

She hated the nobles for praising him, for comparing him favorably to Jie Luo.

But most of all, she hated Angelica, that wretched creature, for stealing her moment, her glory.

She craved revenge, yearned to make them all pay.

The crimson fire in her eyes faded, replaced by a cold, calculating glint.

She left her room, her gaze falling upon a figure walking towards a small chamber at the end of the hallway.

Angelica.

The object of her most venomous hatred.

Her former servant, now transferred to the Hero’s care. Angelica’s new position, though still lowly, afforded her a degree of protection.

Even Loseweisse couldn’t abuse her without consequence. It would be a direct insult to the Hero.

But some urges were simply too powerful to resist.

Tonight, she had been humiliated, her pride shattered. She had to unleash her fury, to find an outlet for the venomous emotions that threatened to consume her.

And Angelica, her face alight with a genuine smile, her steps light and carefree, was the perfect target.

She stopped in front of Angelica, her golden eyes boring into the maid’s.

The same face, the same eyes.

But there was a newfound radiance about her, a spark of hope that had been absent before.

Angelica flinched, her smile fading as a wave of fear washed over her. Years of abuse had left their mark, the ingrained terror difficult to shake off, even now that she was free.

After a moment, she straightened her back, her hands clasped together, her voice trembling slightly. “Holy light be with you, Mistress.”

The customary greeting of the Goddess of Holy Light’s followers.

Loseweisse, however, didn’t respond, her lips curving into a cruel smile.

She raised a hand, her slender fingers reaching out to caress Angelica’s cheek.

Angelica trembled, her body frozen in fear. She had summoned all her courage to accept Qin Chu’s proposal. Now, faced with Loseweisse’s wrath, she felt powerless, her defiance crumbling.

But the expected pain didn’t come. Loseweisse’s touch was light, almost gentle, her fingers tracing the contours of Angelica’s face.

Her long nails, however, sent shivers down Angelica’s spine, their sharp edges a subtle reminder of her mistress’s cruelty.

She twirled a strand of Angelica’s emerald green hair around her finger, her smile widening.

“Angelica,” she said, her voice soft yet menacing. “You will be serving the Hero now… Don’t embarrass the Holy See, understand?”

Her words, though seemingly innocuous, sent a chill down Angelica’s spine. Loseweisse’s gentle tone, her serene smile, were often a prelude to something far more sinister.

Angelica swallowed, her throat dry. This visit to the Church, though brief, was her final test, her last hurdle before escaping her tormentor’s clutches.

“Yes, Mistress,” she stammered, her voice barely audible. “I will… I will…”

Her words were cut short by a scream, her hand flying to her ear, her fingers coming away stained with blood.

A lock of her emerald green hair was wrapped around Loseweisse’s finger, ripped from her scalp.

Loseweisse’s eyes widened, a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins as she watched Angelica writhe in pain.

This was more like it. This was the Angelica she knew.

That pathetic creature, daring to replace her?

Unforgivable.

A dark thought, a venomous seed, took root in her heart.

What if… what if she killed Angelica now?

Chapter 17: I Am Your Only Sanctuary

Horus!

The name, though not particularly unusual in this world, resonated with a strange power, a sense of ancient majesty.

It was a name befitting such a mysterious and enigmatic figure.

Candice, utterly captivated by the name Qin Chu had casually borrowed from Egyptian mythology, swallowed nervously. “Great Horus,” she began, her voice barely a whisper, “I have one final question…”

Qin Chu shrugged, his expression indulgent. “I’m in a generous mood.”

Candice, her heart leaping with hope, seized the opportunity.

This powerful being, despite his initial coldness, seemed approachable, at least when his mood was favorable. He had effortlessly exposed her deepest secret, yet he treated her with a casual indifference, as if she were of little consequence.

And then there was his uncanny knowledge of Benson’s movements, his awareness of the Seventh Prince’s hiding place…

And that terrifying vision she had glimpsed when his anger flared, the world painted red with blood, the stench of death filling her nostrils…

She was increasingly convinced that he was an ancient being, his true power masked by his youthful appearance.

She had to tread carefully. Such beings were often capricious, their moods shifting unpredictably.

She clasped her hands together, her voice trembling slightly. “Great Horus,” she began, “I have no desire to pry into your… conflict with the Hero Squad. It is my honor to assist you, to fulfill any task you deem beneath your… notice.”

“If you have any further requests, Great Horus, I am at your service.”

She wanted to make her intentions clear, to appease him, to avoid incurring his wrath.

“However,” she continued, her voice gaining a hint of desperation, “there is one question that plagues me. How do you know so much about my past? It’s as if… as if you witnessed it all firsthand…”

It wasn’t just witnessing. It felt as if he had been watching her, every step of the way, for twenty-one years. That was the truly terrifying part.

She needed answers.

Qin Chu chuckled. “You told me,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.

“What?” Candice gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief. “That’s… that’s impossible! This is the first time we’ve met!”

Qin Chu’s smile widened, his expression enigmatic. “Some truths,” he said, his voice taking on a cryptic tone, “are revealed without words.”

Candice stared at him, utterly bewildered.

Was he speaking in riddles?

She mentally rolled her eyes, hoping he hadn’t noticed her irreverence.

She glanced up, her gaze meeting his. He was watching her, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

She flinched, her heart skipping a beat.

He had heard her thoughts.

She quickly banished any further irreverent musings, hoping he would forgive her transgression.

Fortunately, Great Horus seemed to be in a forgiving mood.

He leaned forward, his voice low and resonant.

“My eyes…” he began, his gaze piercing hers, “can see through time.”

“When I looked at you, I saw your heart, your past, your future…”

Candice’s brow furrowed. That was… a bold claim. What kind of eyes could see through time, could unravel the secrets of a person’s past and future?

Qin Chu, ignoring her skepticism, continued. “You’ve endured much, Candice. You project an image of strength, of maturity. But it’s a facade. Deep down, you’re still a child, longing for…”

He paused, his gaze locking onto hers, as if peering into her soul.

“Acceptance,” he finished, his voice soft yet firm.

“From anyone. Humans, Demons… it doesn’t matter. You just want to belong, to find a place where you are welcomed, where you are loved.”

“That is your weakness, Candice. The Demons despise you for your human blood. The humans fear you for your Demon heritage.”

“You live among them, enjoying their world, yet terrified of exposure. You know the truth, yet you refuse to face it.”

Her lips trembled, her face draining of all color.

“You struggle to justify your actions, clinging to the hope of acceptance from both sides. But your indecision, your weakness, will be your undoing. Fence-sitters never fare well in times of war.”

“Deep down, you know the Demons will never truly accept you. You are a tool to them, nothing more. Once you outlive your usefulness, they will discard you.”

“And the humans… even if you betray the Demons, offer them your knowledge, your loyalty… once they have what they want, they will kill you too.”

He was right.

Qin Chu didn’t possess the ability to see through time. He had learned of Candice’s past from her own lips.

Four years from now, driven to despair, she would confess her true identity to the human leaders, hoping for redemption.

They would grant her a temporary reprieve, extracting every bit of information she possessed before handing her over to the Hero Squad, who would execute her for her “tainted” blood.

Her eyes, filled with a mixture of fear and despair, met his.

He had stripped away her illusions, forcing her to confront the bleak reality of her situation.

“What… what am I supposed to do?” she whispered, her voice trembling, tears welling up in her eyes.

“It’s simple,” Qin Chu said, his voice calm and reassuring. “You don’t need the Demons’ acceptance. You don’t need the humans’ acceptance. You only need one person to accept you.”

“Who?”

“Me.”

Candice stared at him, her mind reeling. “You… you accept me?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Of course,” Qin Chu replied, his smile widening. “To me, all beings are equal.”

“Demons, humans, birds, beasts, fish, insects… they are all merely different expressions of life, all equally worthy of respect.”

“I am your sanctuary, Candice.”

His words, spoken with a quiet intensity, sent shivers down her spine.

Abandoned by her father, used by her mother, rejected by both humans and Demons… she had believed she had no place in this world. But this man, this mysterious and powerful being, offered her acceptance, a safe haven from the storm.

A warmth, unfamiliar and comforting, spread through her chest.

She wanted to believe him, to cling to his words, to find solace in his presence.

But then he spoke again, his voice taking on a colder, more calculating tone.

“But I require a token of your loyalty.”

“A token?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

“A Demon is approaching,” he said, his gaze fixed on her, his eyes gleaming with a strange light.

“Kill him. Prove to me that you have severed your ties with the Demonfolk.”

He would make her his.

Chapter 16: The God of Vengeance 

Candice gulped, her eyes darting around the deserted tavern, her heart pounding in her chest.

The movements of a Hero Squad member?

This was valuable information, indeed.

In the hierarchy of the Heavenly Continent’s human world, the Hero reigned supreme.

Below him were the three pillars of power: the Emperor, the High Priestess, and the Pope.

Next came the ten members of the Hero Squad, the Thirteen Sages, the President and Vice-President of the Adventurer’s Guild…

These individuals, possessing immense power and influence, were revered throughout the land. The Hero Squad, in particular, were celebrated for their bravery, their role in pushing back the Demon Beast hordes, buying humanity precious time.

And this mysterious man had just casually revealed the movements of one of its members. This was no small matter.

“Which one?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Benson, the Immovable Shield,” Qin Chu replied, his gaze fixed on her.

He had a long list of enemies.

Pope Augustus of the Holy See and Saint Monique, the High Priestess of the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess, the ones who had bound his magic and Battle Qi with the Heavenly Cage Shackles and the Earth Mother’s Embrace.

Emperor Wadsworth of the Auville Empire, who had ordered his soldiers to release the Dark Witch, injecting her with a rage-inducing elixir, leading to his near-fatal injuries.

Carlos, the former President of the Mercenary Alliance, now the leader of the post-war Guardian Alliance, the one who had beheaded him with the Sword of Damocles.

Lex, the head of the powerful merchant guild that controlled ninety percent of the Heavenly Continent’s media, weapon manufacturing, and food and medicine production, the one who had poisoned him, slowly weakening his body, and orchestrated the smear campaign that destroyed his reputation.

And the twelve Sages, excluding Natia, the ones who had summoned him to this world, the ones who had orchestrated his execution, amplifying the power of the magical restraints that bound him, tearing his body apart.

But his most hated enemies were his former comrades, the members of the Hero Squad.

Ekaterina, the Crimson Valkyrie.

Eileen and Airi, the Twin Thieves.

Athena, the Great Mage.

Ronald, the Noble Swordsman.

Calmuse, the Mad Berserker.

Sylph, the Phantom Archer.

Benson, the Immovable Shield.

Karsus, the Death Knight.

And Loseweisse, the Holy Maiden, the woman who had called him “darling,” who had fed him medicine with her own lips, who had cared for him, who had urged him to recover… the woman he had loved most.

He had enemies everywhere he looked.

The Emperor, the Pope, the High Priestess… their betrayal, their desire to eliminate him, had angered him, but it hadn’t truly broken him.

It was the betrayal of his friends, of his lover, that had shattered his soul.

The camaraderie, the laughter, the shared battles… all of it a lie.

They had watched him die, their faces twisted with smug satisfaction, their hands stained with his blood.

They had desecrated his body, scattering his remains to the far corners of the continent, his head buried beneath the Holy City, trampled upon by millions.

What kind of hatred, what kind of malice, could drive them to such acts?

He had considered them family, friends, lovers… but to them, he had been nothing more than a pawn, a disposable tool.

All those happy memories… all of it a lie.

He yearned to kill them all, to bathe in their blood, to make them suffer as he had suffered. But he wasn’t strong enough, not yet.

He would have to resort to more… creative methods.

And compared to the tortures they had inflicted upon him, any action he took, no matter how ruthless, would be justified.

The Hero Squad members, tasked with protecting the Heavenly Continent, were scattered across the land, battling Demon Beasts. His summoning had brought them to the capital, where they served as his mentors, teaching him the ways of Battle Qi, combat skills, and magic.

Despite their loathing for him, they had pretended to be his friends, sharing stories of their adventures, revealing their movements, their plans.

He knew where they were, when they would move, who they would meet.

He had chosen Benson as his first target for two reasons.

First, Benson was a solitary individual, rarely traveling with companions, making him vulnerable to ambushes.

Second, Benson, like Qin Chu in his previous life, was utterly devoted to Loseweisse, obeying her every command.

He would use the Demons to cripple her, to sever one of her most loyal pawns.

The memories, vivid and painful, fueled his rage. His eyes burned with a crimson fire, his body radiating an icy chill.

Candice shivered, her fear intensifying. Though he hadn’t unleashed his power, the aura that emanated from him was terrifying, otherworldly. He seemed less like a man and more like a demon, his very presence a violation of the natural order.

“Apologies,” Qin Chu said, noticing her discomfort. He reigned in his emotions, his face once again a mask of calm indifference.

Candice swallowed, forcing a smile. “I-It’s alright,” she stammered.

“Do you want me to… relay this information to my superiors?” she asked, her voice hesitant.

“Yes.”

“But… how can I be sure this information is accurate?” she asked, her fear battling with her curiosity. “What if this is a trap?”

She believed him, believed in his hatred for the Hero Squad. But the stakes were too high.

If this was a deception, the consequences would be dire. The Demons would suffer heavy losses, and she, the one who had provided the false information, would face a gruesome punishment. The thought of their methods, their penchant for creative torture, made her shudder.

Qin Chu smiled, his hand moving across the map, circling another location. Candice’s eyes widened as she recognized the spot.

“The seventh son of the Eternal Monarch, Nagath,” he said, his voice soft yet menacing. “He’s hiding here, isn’t he? Waiting for the Hero, hoping to eliminate him before he becomes another Jie Luo.”

“What do you think will happen to your precious prince if I reveal his location to the humans?”

Candice understood. He wasn’t trying to destroy the Demons. He merely wanted to use them, to manipulate them into eliminating his enemies.

“Why don’t you deal with them yourself?” she asked, her curiosity overcoming her fear. “Surely, with your power, even Benson wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Qin Chu hadn’t considered that. He paused, his fingers tapping against the bar, his mind racing, searching for a plausible excuse.

Candice, realizing her mistake, quickly backpedaled. “My apologies, sir,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s… none of my business.”

She bit her lip, her eyes wide and apologetic. Curiosity killed the cat, she thought.

She was a clever girl, quick to recover from her missteps.

Qin Chu smiled, his expression enigmatic. “Indeed,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “It’s best to keep some secrets buried.”

She was clever, but also hopelessly curious. Her mind, he could tell, was buzzing with questions, especially those pertaining to her own past.

But she was also afraid to pry too deeply, worried about incurring his wrath.

Her lips twitched, her gaze darting between him and the map, her desire for knowledge warring with her fear.

She was adorable.

Far too innocent for the dangerous role she had been forced to play.

She couldn’t hold back any longer. She had to know. Why did he know so much about her? And then she realized, with a jolt of horror, that she didn’t even know his name.

“My apologies, sir,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing crimson. “I don’t even know your name. How rude of me.”

Qin Chu, of course, had no intention of revealing his true identity.

He considered for a moment, then spoke.

“You can call me…”

“Horus.”

The God of Vengeance.

Chapter 15: Don’t Worry, I’m Not Going to Kill You

Qin Chu trusted the Dark Witch’s judgment. If she said this woman had the makings of a Witch, then it was likely true.

He had underestimated her. Her potential was far greater than he had initially thought.

He smiled, swirling the crimson liquid in his glass, the ice clinking softly.

He was in no hurry, content to savor the moment, to watch her squirm under his scrutiny. He was playing the role of the enigmatic master to perfection.

The night was still, the silence in the tavern broken only by the soft clinking of glasses.

The woman’s composure seemed to waver.

The crimson liquid in his glass swirled, its color deepening.

“Your heart is troubled,” he said, his voice soft yet penetrating, breaking the silence.

Candice, still pretending to be Catherine, stared at him, her amethyst eyes narrowed, trying to decipher him.

Despite her potential, she was still young, her patience easily outmatched by his. His words, revealing her deepest secret, had shaken her facade.

She chose to deflect, her voice carefully neutral. “Sir, why do you mistake me for Candice?” she asked.

“Is there another woman in this world who shares my name and… my appearance?”

She was genuinely curious, her gaze searching his, trying to unravel the mystery that surrounded him. He seemed ordinary, unremarkable, save for his handsome features.

Though he wore a mage’s robes, the magical aura that emanated from him was faint, barely perceptible.

He was weak, so weak that she could crush him with a flick of her wrist.

His weakness, however, made her uneasy.

Why would someone so vulnerable confront her, revealing his knowledge of her secret? Was he suicidal?

There was something strange about him, something unsettling.

Perhaps he was one of those legendary masters, their power so profound that it masked their true strength, making them appear ordinary.

Fear gnawed at her. What did he want from her? Was he here to expose her, to punish her for her past transgressions?

Her gaze darted towards the exits, her mind racing, searching for an escape route. But he was blocking her path. Any sudden movement, any attempt to flee, would be futile.

He had her trapped.

Qin Chu remained silent, swirling his drink, enjoying her discomfort. The silence stretched on, each tick of the clock amplifying her anxiety.

She felt like a fly caught in a spider’s web, her every movement watched, her every thought scrutinized.

Just as she was about to break, he finally set his glass down, his lips curving into a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice calm and soothing. “I’m not going to kill you.”

She let out a shaky breath, relief washing over her. If he said he wouldn’t kill her, then he wouldn’t. Powerful individuals like him valued their word, their pronouncements carrying the weight of law.

In his eyes, she was likely nothing more than an insignificant insect, her life or death a matter of indifference.

But who was he?

She knew of all the major players in the Heavenly Continent: Pope Augustus, Saint Monique, Emperor Wadsworth, the Thirteen Sages, the members of the Hero Squad. None of them matched his description.

Perhaps, she thought, her perspective was too limited.

Rumor had it that those who reached the pinnacle of magical mastery could extend their lifespans, even reverse the aging process. Could he be one of those ancient beings, his true power masked by his youthful appearance?

She took a deep breath, forcing a smile, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness. “You seem to know a lot about me… Candice,” she said, testing the waters.

Qin Chu didn’t answer immediately, his silence adding to her unease.

“Candice,” he finally began, his voice soft and measured, “daughter of the Vice-Captain of the Earth Mother Goddess Church’s Earth Knights and the Queen of the Succubi.”

“A noble knight, his resolve weakened by a moment of passion, succumbed to a temptation that plagues all men.”

“Ten months later, a baby girl was left on his doorstep. He named her Candice.”

“He knew she was his, his blood singing in recognition. But her arrival was a curse disguised as a blessing. She was a half-breed, her veins tainted with Demon blood. He feared exposure, worried that her existence would ruin his career.”

Candice’s eyes widened, her body trembling uncontrollably. How did he know all this? It was as if he had witnessed her entire life, every secret, every heartache laid bare.

Her fear intensified, mixed with a profound sense of relief that she hadn’t attacked him.

This man, whoever he was, was far more powerful than he appeared.

“He abandoned her in the forest, hoping the wild beasts would end her life quickly,” Qin Chu continued, his voice devoid of judgment, merely stating facts. “But she survived. Her Demon blood protected her, the beasts instinctively fearing her presence. She was strong, resilient, her innate magical talent blossoming in the face of adversity.”

“She sought acceptance among the Demons, hoping to find a place among her mother’s kin. But they, too, rejected her, their disgust for her human blood palpable. She endured their taunts, their abuse, clinging to the hope of a better future.”

“And then her mother appeared.”

“The Succubus Queen offered her a deal: prove her loyalty to the Demonfolk, and she would be welcomed as a princess, her status among them secured.”

“She agreed, her human appearance making her the perfect infiltrator. She was sent to the capital, tasked with spying on the human army, relaying their movements to her new allies.”

“But as time passed, her loyalties shifted. She grew accustomed to her human life, her reports becoming increasingly infrequent. She longed for normalcy, for a life free from the shadows.”

“Am I right?” he asked, his smile widening.

Candice’s lips trembled, her amethyst eyes unfocused, her mind reeling.

Fear, confusion, and a strange sense of… relief?

He had watched her, known her secrets, for over two decades. The thought was both terrifying and… strangely comforting.

“An intriguing tale,” she said, forcing a smile, her voice strained. “But what does this… Candice have to do with me, Catherine?”

She took a deep breath, her gaze meeting his. “I have no interest in her past. Now, if you’ll excuse me, sir, I have work to do.”

Qin Chu leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “A proposition,” he said, his voice low and conspiratorial.

“Do you have a map?”

She hesitated for a moment, then retrieved a rolled-up map of the Heavenly Continent from beneath the counter.

“And a pen, please,” he added.

She sighed, placing a quill pen beside the map.

He unfurled the map, his hand moving swiftly as he drew a jagged line across its surface.

“Tomorrow morning,” he said, his voice taking on a serious tone, “a member of the Hero Squad will depart for the capital, following this route. He is expected to arrive in half a month.”

Chapter 14: The Makings of a Witch

The polished floor, gleaming under the soft glow of the magical lamps, reflected his image like a mirror. The bed, large enough to accommodate a small army, was piled high with fresh linens, its inviting softness beckoning him closer.

Every item in the room, from the toiletries to the towels, was brand new, meticulously arranged. Emperor Wadsworth had clearly spared no expense in ensuring the Hero’s comfort.

The adjoining bathroom boasted a spacious bathtub, its waters perpetually heated by a series of embedded Fire Mana Crystals.

A sturdy wooden desk, piled high with books detailing the history and geography of the Heavenly Continent, occupied one corner of the room. The paper, coarse and yellowed, hinted at the limitations of their world’s papermaking technology.

A milky white magical lamp, resembling an oversized oil lamp, was mounted on the wall above the desk, its soft light casting long shadows across the floor.

On the opposite wall, a bas-relief depicting the Goddess of Holy Light shimmered with an ethereal glow, its serene features radiating an aura of peace and purity.

A large wardrobe stood against one wall. Curiosity piqued, Qin Chu opened its doors, his brow furrowing as he surveyed its contents.

Dozens of outfits hung neatly inside, only a fifth of them intended for him. The rest… were clearly meant for a woman.

Lacy maid uniforms, revealing leather armor for a rogue, a bikini-style warrior’s breastplate, high-slit robes for a sorceress, elf ears, cat ears, a fluffy tail, a leather collar…

He shuddered, his lips twitching involuntarily. Was this Emperor Wadsworth’s idea of a welcome gift? Did the man think he was some kind of insatiable pervert?

The sheer variety of costumes was both impressive and disturbing. Was this… some kind of elaborate seduction scheme? The lengths they went to to appease the Hero were truly astounding.

The most perplexing items were the nun and priestess outfits, in various shades of white, black, and even a rather daring black and white combination that reminded him of Saint Monique’s attire.

Was this… sacrilege? Wasn’t Wadsworth afraid of divine retribution?

As if to complete the ensemble, a box containing ten vials of a pale green liquid sat on a shelf beside the costumes.

Qin Chu recognized the potion. He had consumed it countless times in his previous life.

Battles against Demons were exhausting. A single dose of this elixir would banish fatigue, restoring his energy and stamina. It also had… certain other benefits, making it a popular choice among the Heavenly Continent’s more virile inhabitants.

It was a complex alchemical concoction, its ingredients rare and expensive. Each vial cost at least ten thousand Mana. The Emperor had clearly spared no expense.

Qin Chu shook his head, marveling at the extravagance of the wealthy elite.

He returned to the desk, adjusting the lamp’s brightness before settling into the chair. He picked up a book, flipping through its pages.

It contained basic information about the Heavenly Continent, its history, geography, and political structure.

The continent, it seemed, was more of a massive island surrounded by a vast, unexplored ocean. Similar to Earth’s Australia, but on a much grander scale. What lay beyond the ocean’s horizon?

No one knew.

For millennia, countless explorers and adventurers had attempted to cross the ocean, to chart its depths, to unravel its mysteries.

None had succeeded.

Those who returned spoke of an impenetrable darkness, of raging storms and ash-filled skies.

Even Sages, upon approaching these forbidden zones, felt a primal fear grip their hearts, their magical shields easily shattered by the relentless winds.

The ocean’s depths had claimed countless lives, its secrets remaining hidden.

The Heavenly Continent was divided into thirteen nations, the Auville Empire being the most powerful. Had it not been for the Demon Beast invasion, Emperor Wadsworth would have likely unified the continent under his rule.

The continent’s religious landscape was diverse, but only two faiths held significant sway: the Holy See, worshipping the Goddess of Holy Light, and the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess.

These two churches, along with the Auville Empire, were locked in a constant power struggle, vying for dominance.

Qin Chu, however, wasn’t particularly interested in these matters. He had lived through this history once before, its intricacies etched into his memory.

He skimmed through the book, then set it aside, his gaze drawn to the window. He cracked it open, extinguished the lamp, and climbed into bed.

Within minutes, the sound of his soft snores reached Nikles, standing guard outside.

The Hero was exhausted, he thought. It was understandable. To be ripped from his world, thrust into this strange land, then subjected to hours of travel and tedious formalities… it was enough to drain anyone’s energy.

His duty was simple: protect the Hero, ensure his safety, and prevent any disturbances.

He failed to notice, however, a small, black bat slipping through the open window moments later.

On the bed, Qin Chu’s body remained still, his snores undisturbed.

Illusion Creation.

Despite his depleted Mana, he could still manage basic illusions. With his previous life’s experience, both with skills and magic, he could easily project an image of himself sleeping soundly.

He wasn’t worried about being discovered.

The guards, though skilled warriors, weren’t particularly sensitive to magic. None would detect his absence.

And even if they did, he had a ready-made excuse. As the Hero, his actions were beyond reproach.

The Hero’s mantle was truly a convenient shield, its power extending far beyond mere combat prowess.

He had initially found the bat form disorienting, but he quickly adapted, his senses adjusting to the new perspective.

Shapeshifting was a surprisingly useful Ability, its applications extending far beyond combat. He soared through the night sky, his wings beating silently, the wind whispering through his fur.

The twin moons, now past their zenith, cast long shadows across the sleeping city.

A few late-night revelers stumbled through the streets, but none paid any attention to the small bat flitting overhead.

He flew over the city walls, leaving the opulence of the inner city behind.

The outer city was shrouded in darkness, the only illumination coming from the twin moons overhead. This, Qin Chu thought, was the true face of the city, its poverty and despair hidden from the privileged few.

Following his memories, he navigated the labyrinthine streets.

Minutes later, he landed in front of a dimly lit tavern.

The “Brave Adventurer,” a twenty-four-hour establishment catering to the city’s less savory elements.

His bat form dissolved, reshaping itself into that of a handsome young man, his features youthful, his clothes those of a traveling mage.

He glanced at the tavern’s faded sign, its crimson paint peeling, its message still clear.

He had many enemies. Tonight, he would enact his revenge on one of them, using the most devious of methods.

It was a risky plan, but he was confident in his ability to pull it off.

He was a mysterious stranger, a master manipulator.

He smiled, pushing open the tavern’s glass doors.

The interior was deserted, the only sound the soft clinking of glasses as a lone figure wiped down the bar.

A single oil lamp cast a flickering light, its smoky flame filling the air with a pungent odor.

The woman behind the bar was tall and strikingly beautiful, her lavender hair cascading down her back, her amethyst eyes shimmering with an alluring intensity. Her skin was flawless, her figure, accentuated by a form-fitting black dress, a masterpiece of curves and angles.

Of all the women he had known, only the Great Mage, Athena, a member of the Hero Squad, could rival her in sheer physical perfection.

Her beauty, her allure, had attracted countless suitors, many of them wealthy and powerful. But she had rejected them all, choosing instead to run this humble tavern.

She glanced up as he entered, her gaze lingering on him for a moment, her eyes seeming to pierce through his carefully constructed facade.

A new customer. Interesting.

“Welcome, sir,” she said, her voice smooth and melodic. “What can I get for you?”

Qin Chu smiled, taking a seat at the bar.

“A Witch’s Heart, please,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

She nodded, her slender fingers moving with practiced grace as she began mixing his drink.

He watched her work, mesmerized by her skill.

“Princess Candice,” he said, his voice soft yet clear, “your bartending skills have improved.”

“Thank you, kind sir, but I still have much to learn…” She stopped mid-sentence, her hand hovering over the cocktail shaker.

A heavy silence descended upon the tavern.

After a moment, she resumed her work, her voice carefully neutral. “You must be mistaken, sir. My name is Catherine. There’s no one named Candice here.”

She placed the finished drink, a swirling concoction of crimson hues, before him, her expression unchanged, as if their previous exchange had never occurred.

Shaye materialized beside him, perching on his shoulder, her bare feet swinging back and forth, narrowly missing the glass.

He winced, hoping she wouldn’t accidentally kick it over.

“Why are you out here?” he asked mentally, his voice laced with annoyance.

She ignored him, her gaze fixed on the woman behind the bar.

“This one…” she murmured, her voice taking on a contemplative tone. “She has the makings of a Witch.”

Chapter 13: A World Rotten to its Core 

The banquet concluded amidst thunderous applause, the guests’ faces alight with newfound hope.

Emperor Wadsworth had arranged a luxurious carriage for Qin Chu, accompanied by a retinue of elite guards handpicked from the Imperial City Garrison.

Angelica walked alongside the carriage, her pale face reflecting the emotional turmoil she had endured. As his personal maid, her place was by his side.

But Pope Augustus wasn’t ready to let her go.

“Angelica,” he called out, his voice firm yet gentle.

She flinched, her body trembling slightly as she turned to face him. She knew what was coming.

“Hero,” the Pope said, his smile as smooth and unreadable as ever. “Angelica has some personal belongings at the Church. Would you mind if she returned to collect them?”

Despite Qin Chu’s current weakness, the Pope, along with the Emperor and the High Priestess, treated him with a deference bordering on obsequiousness.

They understood the Hero’s potential, the power he could wield. Antagonizing him now would be foolish.

Qin Chu knew exactly what the Pope was up to. He wanted to indoctrinate Angelica, to mold her into a puppet, a replacement for Loseweisse.

He nodded readily. “Of course, Your Holiness.”

He had already defied the old man once tonight. Pushing his luck further would be unwise. He needed to bide his time, to gather his strength.

Besides, even if he prevented her from returning to the Church now, he couldn’t keep her by his side constantly. The Pope would find another opportunity to manipulate her.

He waved to Angelica, then turned towards the waiting carriage. His gaze, however, snagged on a figure standing nearby.

A tall, muscular young man, clad in full plate armor that did little to conceal his impressive physique. His handsome face, though still bearing traces of youthful innocence, held a familiarity that sent a chill down Qin Chu’s spine.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his voice betraying no hint of his inner turmoil.

“Nikles, Hero,” the young man replied, snapping to attention, his voice strong and clear. “Captain of the Imperial City Guard Cavalry. I am here at His Majesty’s command to ensure your safety. Rest assured, Hero, no Demon will harm you under my watch.”

An exemplary soldier, Qin Chu thought, impressed by the young man’s composure in the presence of a Hero with two Super-tier Abilities.

Though he couldn’t gauge his exact level, he could sense the man’s strength. He was at least a Great Knight.

In this world, knights were ranked according to their level and combat prowess: 1-20, Knight; 21-40, Great Knight; 41-60, Furious Knight; 61-80, King Knight.

Above level eighty were the Titled Knights, each bestowed with a unique honorific denoting their exceptional skill.

Each rank was further divided into three tiers, based on the knight’s Abilities, skills, and overall mastery of combat.

A Great Knight, though only second in the hierarchy, was a formidable warrior. They formed the backbone of the Heavenly Continent’s armies.

Considering his youth, Nikles was clearly a talented individual, his potential boundless. With dedication and training, he could easily reach the rank of Furious Knight, perhaps even King Knight.

“You’re skilled with a spear, I presume?” Qin Chu asked, feigning casual interest.

Nikles, unsure why he had caught the Hero’s attention, nodded.

Qin Chu ran his fingers along the spear’s shaft, the cold steel smooth and polished. He flicked the spearhead, the metal ringing softly.

“Have you ever used this spear to pierce a human body?” he asked, tilting his head, his voice taking on a morbidly curious tone.

Nikles frowned, confused by the question. “I apologize, Hero, but I wouldn’t know. My spear is meant to protect the citizens of the capital. It is only ever pointed at Demons, never at humans.”

“However,” he added, “I have pierced countless Demons with this spear. I imagine the sensation is… similar.”

“I see,” Qin Chu murmured, his expression unreadable.

He turned and climbed into the carriage, leaving Nikles standing there, his brow furrowed in confusion.

As the carriage pulled away, Nikles barked orders to his men, positioning them around the vehicle, forming a protective barrier between the Hero and any potential threats.

Inside the carriage, Qin Chu’s eyes narrowed, a cold glint flickering in their depths.

Nikles.

He looked so young, so innocent. But seven years from now, this same knight, the one who swore to only point his spear at Demons, would impale a young woman on its tip, her only crime defending the Hero’s name.

He would laugh as she writhed in agony, her broken body dangling from his spear, her blood staining the cobblestones.

He would enjoy her suffering.

What would twist this young man, this promising knight, into such a monster?

Qin Chu stared out the carriage window, his gaze taking in the cityscape bathed in the silvery light of the twin moons.

The wind howled, rustling the leaves of the trees lining the streets.

Carriages, their occupants returning from the banquet, rattled past, their wheels echoing against the cobblestones.

Magical lamps, spaced every ten meters, illuminated the streets, their soft glow banishing the darkness.

Even at this late hour, the inner city thrummed with activity, a world apart from the poverty and despair that festered beyond its walls.

Those lamps, powered by expensive Mana Crystals, were a testament to the city’s obscene wealth. Each crystal was worth a thousand Mana, enough to sustain a family of three for an entire year. Yet, here they were, used for mere illumination, a frivolous extravagance meant to prevent the nobles from stumbling in the dark.

The Heavenly Continent might be on the brink of collapse, but here, within the walls of the capital, there was no sense of urgency, no hint of the encroaching darkness.

This was paradise.

In the inner city, uneaten food from the banquet was discarded, piled high in designated disposal areas, destined to be incinerated.

In the outer city, children fought over scraps, their hunger a gnawing ache in their bellies.

A single wall, separating heaven from hell.

This world, Qin Chu thought, was rotten to its core.

He had once felt pity for the downtrodden, for the victims of this corrupt system. But they had betrayed him, cheered for his death, their faces twisted with a gleeful malice.

He would never forget their jeering laughter, the rotten eggs and vegetables splattering against his body, their venomous hatred a tangible force.

This world, from its highest echelons to its lowest depths, was beyond saving.

Perhaps there were still good people out there, but their kindness, like a single candle flame flickering in a blizzard, was easily extinguished.

He shook his head, pushing those thoughts aside as he opened his status panel.

Level: 13

Class: Hero

Strength: 19

Stamina: 19

Agility: 19

Mana: 62

Defense: 19

Charm: 6

Skills:

None!

Magic:

Illusion Creation: Intermediate Magic. You can create illusions.

Abilities:

Greed: Super-tier Ability. You crave power, hungering to possess all that you desire. Ability: Devourer—You can absorb the strength and abilities of others, making them your own.

Rage: Super-tier Ability. You are fueled by anger, your fury a weapon in its own right. Ability: Rage Explosion—When your rage peaks, you gain a temporary, but significant, boost to all attributes.

Forced Calm: High-tier Ability. You remain calm and collected under pressure, your mind shielded from emotional turmoil. Always active, can be manually disabled.

Lust: Special Ability. Super-tier Ability. Details hidden. Ability: Touch of Lust—Your touch can ignite the hidden desires of the opposite sex.

Shapeshifting: Intermediate Ability. You can freely alter your appearance.

With each level gained, his Strength, Stamina, Agility, Mana, and Defense increased by one point. His Charm, however, remained unchanged. It was a fixed attribute, determined at birth, only modifiable through extraordinary means.

The Phantom Demon, disguised as Count Donald, had been at least level sixty. Clearly, the Devourer Ability incurred a significant loss during the absorption process. Sixty levels worth of magic had only boosted his own level to thirteen, and his Mana had only increased by forty-three points.

Still, for a normal cultivator, reaching level thirteen would take months of dedicated training and combat experience. He had achieved it in less than a minute. Stealing power was clearly the most efficient way to level up.

With sixty-two Mana, he was now on par with a Great Mage.

Unfortunately, his only spell, Illusion Creation, had been stolen from the Phantom Demon, who hadn’t even had the chance to use it.

He had also acquired the Demon’s Shapeshifting Ability.

All in all, he was quite satisfied with his haul.

After nearly an hour, the carriage finally arrived at its destination. Calling it a “house” would be an understatement. It was a palace, a summer retreat for Emperor Wadsworth, now temporarily bestowed upon the Hero. The Emperor clearly spared no expense in ensuring his comfort and safety.

The estate, sprawling across several acres, was heavily guarded, hundreds of soldiers patrolling its perimeter, their presence a constant reminder of the dangers that lurked beyond its walls.

The carriage pulled into the courtyard, where servants, handpicked by the Emperor, awaited his arrival.

Nikles and his men followed closely, their vigilance unwavering. They wouldn’t leave his side until he was safely ensconced in his chambers.

“Nikles,” Qin Chu called out as they reached his bedroom door.

“At your service, Hero,” Nikles replied, snapping to attention.

Qin Chu yawned, stretching his arms, feigning exhaustion. “I’m weary from the journey,” he said, his voice heavy with fatigue. “No matter what happens, do not disturb me. Understand?”

Tonight, his revenge would begin.

He wouldn’t allow anyone to interfere.