The Scoundrel’s Fury and the Philosopher’s Stone’s Secret

Damn it!

Freya slammed her volatile magic onto a large rock before her, shattering it into fragments like a fragile egg.

Damn it, damn it!

Still unable to quell her fury, she casually unleashed a spell of scorching flames towards a colossal tree ahead, engulfing the unfortunate plants in a blazing inferno.

“Hmph… wait?” Just as Freya felt a slight release of tension, her gaze fell upon two radish-like mandrake roots growing intertwined not far away.

Their shape uncannily resembled a pair of lovers embracing, and her blood pressure instantly spiked again.

‘Die, you scumbag!’

With a few casual gusts of wind magic, she sliced the two mandrake roots into shreds, and Freya’s mood finally improved considerably.

“Hmm? Why am I so angry?” she mused, stroking her chin as her emotions calmed slightly. ‘Am I too deeply immersed in this role? Did I actually start believing I was that bastard’s wife?’

‘Tsk, having such good acting skills is a sin. I got too carried away without realizing it.’

‘Hmph, you deadbeat scumbag, stinking Hero, colossal jerk!’

‘After all I’ve done for you, so utterly devoted, even wasting a Blood Essence for nothing, you dare to flirt with some little hussy!’

‘Let’s see how you’ll explain yourself when you get back!’

‘Forget it, no need to explain. I don’t want to hear it anyway. Worst case, I’ll stop playing the role of the virtuous wife. It’s time to throw down!’

‘Hmph, the world is vast. Is there nowhere for this Demon Lord to go but to hang myself from your crooked neck tree?’

‘You can go off with that little hussy. I’ll rely on myself. Once I grow stronger, I’ll cripple you limb by limb and slowly interrogate you about the Holy Sword’s whereabouts~’

Freya’s mind replayed endless fantasies. She imagined tying the idiotic Hero to a torture rack, a dog leash around his neck, forcing him to lick her feet. A wave of satisfaction washed over her.

“Huh?” Freya suddenly halted, surveying the unfamiliar surroundings. A bead of cold sweat trickled down her forehead. ‘Did I… did I come this way?’

‘How did I get here before?’

****

As evening descended, a limping Roland finally returned to the Elvin Frontline, supported by Celia.

“Finally here. I’m exhausted.” Roland quickly sat down, catching his breath. “Who are you going to find now?”

“Officer Bell. He’s the highest-ranking official at this frontline,” Celia replied with a smile. “Brave warrior, would you mind coming with me?”

“Hmm…” Roland was about to agree, but then the image of the fuming little Demon Lord flashed in his mind. He shook his head with a wry smile. “Forget it, I won’t get involved in your military affairs. Just help me imbue this quest scroll with your magical aura, and I’ll be able to turn it in.”

“Alright then…” Celia imbued the quest scroll with her magical aura. “Brave warrior, I will relay your heroic deeds to Officer Bell.”

“Mhm, mhm.” Roland nodded, a hint of embarrassment on his face. “I’ll go turn in the quests first.”

Bidding farewell to Celia, Roland located the quest giver and submitted his three completed tasks.

1. Collect 30 goblin ears. (Completed)

2. Collect 30 goblin hand bones. (Completed)

3. Locate the missing maiden Celia Krumine. (Completed)

The first two quests collectively yielded 60 copper coins, while the final quest’s reward was an astonishing 1 gold coin.

One hundred copper coins equaled one silver coin, and one hundred silver coins equaled one gold coin.

‘I’m rich as hell!’

Gazings at the gleaming gold coin in his hand, Roland swore he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

‘Ha, what can’t I afford now?’

Roland immediately set off for Linus’s blacksmith shop, intending to cure the man of his habit of looking down on the poor. He would wait for Linus to argue, then shove the gold coin in his face and watch his expression.

‘Yeah, that’ll be satisfying.’

Roland arrived at the blacksmith shop, finding Linus preparing to close for the day.

“Uncle! I need a full set of equipment!” Roland declared, lifting his chin and raising an eyebrow.

Linus looked at him with an idiotic gaze. “Got money now?”

“I do.” Roland glanced at the blacksmith’s robust, bronzed muscles, forged by years of hammering iron. Still lacking the courage to throw the coin in his face, he instead slapped it onto the table. “Bring out your best wares~”

Linus picked up the gold coin, weighed it in his hand, and frowned. “Something’s off?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel like it’s been adulterated.” Linus bent down, retrieved a weighing scale from under his workbench, placed some weights on the right pan, and the gold coin on the left.

Upon seeing the results of the test, Linus wore an expression of nonchalance, while Roland’s face turned exceptionally grim.

“Take it back.” Linus tossed the gold coin back. “Did you get this from the quest giver?”

“Yes… how could this be?” Roland stared at the gold coin in his hand, unwilling to accept it. “Those people…”

“Do you know why a rookie like you could even get a quest with such a high reward?” Linus began, a smirk playing on his lips. “Heh heh, the Elvin Frontline used to have many adventurers. Back then, countless people vied for quests. A rookie like you wouldn’t even have been acknowledged by a quest giver.”

“But ever since a man named Bell came here, adventurers have slowly started to disappear.” Linus leaned closer to Roland’s ear and whispered, “Ever since he arrived, adventurers have constantly complained about their rewards being reduced, or even receiving fake items, or not getting any reward at all despite completing the quest.”

“What?”

“We don’t know why, but many believe that the higher-ups have been… diverting the Empire’s military funds,” Linus said, rubbing his hands together with a knowing look.

“What about these copper coins? I still have 60 copper coins…”

“Garbage quality. They’re mixed with iron. I wouldn’t even take them if you gave them to me for free.” Linus didn’t spare them a glance, preparing to close his shop.

Roland clenched his fists and turned, running to confront the quest giver. From a distance, he saw the quest giver drinking with another soldier.

“Hey! You bastard!” Roland furiously flung the coins at him. “Why did you give me this garbage?! Don’t you know that privately minting counterfeit currency is against Imperial law?”

“What’s all this shouting about?!” The quest giver, seemingly accustomed to such scenes, didn’t even miss a breath. He asserted confidently, “Who gave you fake coins? You clearly took them yourself and then swapped out the real money!”

“You!” Roland was stunned by the man’s unbelievable audacity, and in a fit of rage, he laughed. “Have you no shame?”

The nearby soldier drew his longsword, slowly tapping it near Roland’s feet, and spoke with a thuggish tone, “Kid, I advise you not to look for trouble. We won’t pursue the matter of you using fake currency, but if you intend to disturb the order of the military camp, don’t blame us if we cut off your limbs and toss you into the Loran Forest. Heh heh, I hear the Minotaurs and Goblins there love eating adventurer corpses. Human bodies are a delicacy to them.”

‘Damn it… these people… they all deserve to die…’

Staring at their ugly faces, Roland suddenly found even the little Demon Lord who wanted to kill him somewhat endearing. A bloody mist slowly materialized in his eyes, his rationality gradually dissolving.

“Do not act here,” the Philosopher’s Stone’s voice resonated. “If you kill them, the military will investigate, and the Church will also notice you!”

Tsk. Roland suppressed his fury, taking a sharp look at the two men’s faces, etching their features into his memory. Then he turned and walked away, the loud, arrogant jeers of the two men echoing behind him.

‘Why won’t you let me act? What if the Church notices? Am I not the Hero? Wouldn’t the Church help me?’

“Heh heh… don’t think the Church is some benevolent entity,” the Philosopher’s Stone remarked with a hint of mockery. “Do you know why, in your previous life, you chose to betray the Church and seize the Philosopher’s Stone for yourself?”

‘Then tell me! Stop building suspense!’

“Ahem… it’s a long story. Actually, the destiny of a Hero isn’t necessarily so great. All of the Hero’s power, equipment, and skills are bestowed by the Church. Although the Hero of your previous life was incredibly strong, your power was entirely under the Church’s control.

“As long as the Church wished to reclaim the Hero’s power, you couldn’t resist. Thus, the Hero became a sword for the Church; whatever the Church commanded, you had to obey. Whether it was campaigning against demonkind or militarily oppressing nations that defied the Church…”

Roland remained silent.

“However, in your previous life, you also discovered this problem. To escape the Church’s control, you devised many methods, but most proved useless. Even with the all-cleaving Holy Sword in your hand, you could only obediently serve as the Church’s dog, hahahahaha.”

The Philosopher’s Stone let out a burst of laughter. “But… eventually, you came up with a solution.”

‘What solution?’

“The Philosopher’s Stone. You wanted to use it to escape the Church’s control, to gain infinite power and life. But unfortunately, the Demon Lord ultimately used the Philosopher’s Stone to bring about a mutual destruction with you.”

‘If that’s the case, then quickly give me power! Infinite power and life, give it to me!’

“Heh heh… you’re too greedy, kid,” the Philosopher’s Stone scoffed. “As the Alchemist Master Edward Elric once said, everything in this world has an equivalent exchange. You haven’t yet earned the right to wield such power!”

‘So what do I do? If you don’t give me power, I have nothing now. I’ve wasted a whole day, and I can barely afford food!’

“Rely on yourself, rely on yourself!” the Philosopher’s Stone declared with absolute certainty. “This reincarnation is your chance. You still possess the Hero’s talent. As long as you don’t involve yourself with the Church, you can grow strong through your own power, and thus avoid being controlled by them.”

‘Is there a faster way? My strength is increasing so slowly right now. I’ve cut down so many goblins, and I’m only… uh, Level 18? I only gained one level after killing all those monsters?’

“A Hero’s level progression is much slower than other Fated Ones. This is precisely because of the greater magical power harbored within their body.”

‘But other Fated Ones at Level 18 can seek out mentors through the Church, undergo a Fated promotion, and learn many skills! I can’t do anything right now!’

“Believe in yourself. Others learn, but you can comprehend it yourself.”

‘Are you messing with me, you rotten stone? How am I supposed to comprehend it?’

“Heh heh, don’t disbelieve me. In your previous life, your ‘Mountain-Splitting Earth-Rending Slash’ was conceived simply by observing the movements of the Sword Saint who was corrupted by demonic energy. Its power even surpassed his!”

‘Tch, everything you say, you rotten stone, is so profound. Is there really no quick way to get stronger?’

“There is. Kill the Demon Lord with your own hands, and I can immediately grant you infinite power.”

‘She’s so strong, how could I possibly defeat her?’

“Just get stronger.”

‘Great, I’m stuck in a loop.’

****

Just as twilight fully descended, Roland returned to Green Village.

“Mother, what’s for dinner tonight?” Roland pushed open his front door, hanging up his weapon. “That idiotic Elvin Frontline? I’ll be a dog if I ever go there again!”

Old Jenny, who was adding firewood, turned and smiled. “You’re back~ Dinner will be ready soon. A neighbor just gave me a rabbit today, so we’re having rabbit meat. I noticed that little girl Freya has been working hard helping you these past few days, so I specially cooked a bit extra for her…”

Old Jenny looked at the empty space behind Roland. “Didn’t she come back with you?”

“What…” Roland was also stunned. “Didn’t she come back ages ago?”

“No, I’ve been home all day and haven’t seen anyone return.” Old Jenny glanced at the darkened sky outside the window, a worried expression clouding her face. “It’s so late, and she’s a young girl out there alone…”

Freya’s appearance from that night resurfaced in Roland’s mind, especially her gaze.

‘That gaze…’

‘Tsk, little Demon Lord, why are you so troublesome…’

Roland’s hand rested on the rusty katana on the rack. Its blade was covered in rust, looking as though it might snap at any moment.

Even though he had enveloped the weapon in magic from start to finish, its inherent fragility inevitably affected its durability. It would likely break apart after a short period of use.

‘Rotten stone, what should I do? Should I go save her?’

“That is your own concern, it has nothing to do with me,” came the cold reply from the voice within the amulet.

Roland’s hand, holding the weapon, tightened slightly, then loosened again moments later.

‘Forget it…’

He shook his head, slowly walking over to the simmering rabbit meat, watching the rising white steam…

In the steam, he seemed to see the figure of a girl: a girl who wiped food stains from his face, washed him, cleaned his clothes, and cooked his meals…

‘What the hell… am I seeing things?’

Roland rubbed his eyes, confirming that the white steam was indeed normal.

His gaze then shifted to the sink, where three sets of meticulously cleaned utensils were stacked. The ‘little demon’ had previously complained about not having her own dedicated cutlery, constantly pestering him for it while he slept.

After enduring three days of back massages as payment, he had finally, exasperated, crafted her a simple wooden set of dedicated utensils. At the time, just to annoy her, he had deliberately carved the words “Hero’s Wife” around the rim of one bowl, causing her to stare at it in conflicted agony for days, almost losing her appetite.

‘Hahahahaha, that’s what you get for pretending to be Freya! Serves you right!’

Roland chuckled softly at the memory.

“What’s so funny?” Old Jenny lifted the pot lid, and the aroma of rabbit meat wafted out. She smiled with satisfaction. “Looks good. Little forest rabbits are always delicious.”

“Nothing, I was just thinking about Freya…” Roland started to say something, but then abruptly trailed off. He pressed a hand to his forehead, glancing first at the katana on the rack, then at the rabbit meat in the pot.

He wanted to laugh, but the laughter wouldn’t come.

He suddenly felt like an idiot.

A rather bastardly idiot.

“Um… Mother,” Roland turned very slowly, taking a deep breath. “This rabbit meat, it doesn’t look quite cooked yet, does it?”

“Oh? I thought it was just about done?”

“Let it cook a bit longer. I prefer it well-done.” Roland took the katana from the rack and slowly infused it with magic, causing the blade to glow faintly.

“Alright, I’ll cook it a bit more, but what are you doing?”

Old Jenny watched Roland, who was now preparing his gear.

“That little fool got lost. I’m going to bring her back for dinner.”

His figure vanished into the boundless darkness ahead.