The Price of Power

“Officer Bel, this matter is truly urgent!” Celia leaned her body forward, pressing anxiously against the desk as she faced him. “New monsters have appeared in Loran Forest, and it seems they’ve stopped attacking each other. They’ve united, preparing to assault us! We must inform our superiors and make preparations immediately…”

Behind the desk sat Bel, the highest-ranking officer of the Elven Frontline.

His hands were clasped on the desk, propping up his chin, as he leisurely admired the woman’s unintentionally revealed charms.

Yet, in his heart, he harbored a deep wariness of the identity she represented.

‘What a pity,’ he mused. ‘If only she weren’t affiliated with the Church.’

“Celia, I am already aware of the situation you’ve described.” Bel nodded slowly. “I will report this matter, however… as the Church’s newly appointed priestess, I expect you to be mindful of your position and refrain from interfering too much with military affairs.”

“I merely…”

“We will handle it. You may return now.”

Bel made a dismissive gesture. Celia hesitated for a moment, then retrieved a parchment scroll from her person.

“Previously, people had been disappearing from my village, so I ventured into Loran Forest to investigate.” “I was unfortunately captured by those monsters, but thankfully, a Hero saved my life.” Celia unfurled the scroll. “This contains the information I gathered in the forest at the time. I hope it proves useful to you.”

Without turning, Bel slowly waved his hand, signaling for Celia to leave.

Only when he heard the door click shut did Bel quietly approach his desk, pick up the parchment scroll, and begin to read.

“Frost Goblins, Flame Goblins, Minotaurs, Minotaur Behemoths… Hmm? So, new monsters are indeed multiplying.” Bel’s expression grew increasingly grim. He walked to the fireplace and gently tossed the scroll into the flames.

The roaring fire consumed the scroll, leaving not a trace behind.

Bel moved to a wooden shelf in the corner of the room, opening a hidden compartment.

Inside, glittering gold coins lay nestled.

“This should be more than enough…” Bel finally allowed a faint smile to touch his lips as he gazed at his treasures. “How could this pathetic frontline ever hope to withstand the monster assault? When the time is right, I too shall depart…”

His gaze extended from the window to the distant Loran Forest, where he felt a brooding, dark cloud slowly encroaching.

****

“Are you certain that little Demon Lord is in there?” Roland pointed towards the monster encampment ahead, which resembled a military fort. “What exactly is inside there?”

“Yes, it is. Inside are Goblins and some Minotaurs, seemingly corrupted by the power unleashed when the Demon Realm collapsed and seeped into the human world,” the Philosopher’s Stone replied. “Wait, I sense a very powerful presence within… Ah, this furious lightning aura… Boy, are you ready to throw your life away now?”

Roland’s mouth twitched as he observed the tall, sturdy defense towers encircling the camp.

These towers were leagues beyond those of the previous Goblin encampment. The vigilant red Goblins perched atop them bore no resemblance to the throwing Goblins he had encountered before; they exuded an aura of dominance on an entirely different level.

‘This place is nothing short of a dragon’s den or a tiger’s lair,’ he thought.

“Can I… truly defeat those monsters?”

“Unlikely.”

“Then let me try with the Holy Sword.”

“Hah… are you certain?” the Philosopher’s Stone scoffed playfully. “Even a Hero only gains the right to wield the Holy Sword at Level 48, at the very least. If you merely touch it now, your body will be annihilated by its terrifying power.”

“So, there’s no other way?” Roland asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I can’t possibly go in there with this broken blade, can I?”

“Oh, there is… I can lend you a portion of my power, but it comes with a small price,” the broken stone’s voice revealed a hint of cunning. “Have you thought this through?”

Roland’s heart sank. He had a strong feeling that this fragmented stone harbored some unspeakable secret.

Nevertheless, after glancing at the monsters ahead, whose magical aura was terrifying, he slowly nodded.

“Do it.”

The next moment, an indescribable sensation surged through him.

His body felt as though it were submerged ten thousand meters deep in the ocean, with suffocating pressure bearing down from all directions.

Then, it was as if he stood within a boiling volcano, enveloped by thick smoke and raging flames.

‘Rage…’

A hoarse voice materialized in his mind.

‘Hate…’

A sorrowful voice echoed in his thoughts.

‘Go mad…’

A mocking voice emerged within his consciousness.

His consciousness couldn’t resist these influences for long.

These incredible voices were like a poison buried deep within his body, and with even the slightest provocation, they erupted like a virulent disease.

His vision gradually blurred, and his pupils became savage, like blood.

“When I return to this world, all who defy me shall perish…” Roland pressed one hand against his forehead, enduring the splitting headache.

With his other hand, he gripped the rusty katana, pouring even greater magical power into it.

The blade glowed a deep, crimson red, like fresh blood.

“Hahahahaha, you’ve returned…” the Philosopher’s Stone’s voice resonated. “White, the Hero of the previous era!”

“Blood… blood…” The Hero walked forward, step by uncontrolled step.

Even as several Flame Goblins on the high platforms noticed him, he paid them no heed.

“Hahahaha, go forth! Let them witness your power!”

****

Freya had no idea what was happening outside. She could only sense from Keno’s icy gaze that it was likely nothing good.

She dared not ask further; in fact, merely looking into his eyes instilled a hint of fear. She simply huddled silently to the side.

‘Damn it,’ she fumed inwardly. ‘When I was the Demon Lord, these little scraps wouldn’t even have been worthy of standing before me.’

“Woman, I have matters to attend to.” Keno walked to a nearby weapon rack, donning several pieces of equipment. “When I return, I shall make you experience the pleasure of a female!”

With that, he pulled back the curtain and departed without a backward glance.

Watching his retreating back, Freya spat to express her disdain.

‘Don’t you dare come back! This queen doesn’t want you taking her precious first time, alright?!’

‘Eh? Why did I just call myself “this queen”…’

****

“GRAWL! GRAWL!”

A Flame Goblin howled in agony, clutching its severed arm.

Thick blood gushed relentlessly from the clean wound; it could no longer escape the clutches of death.

“URGHH!!!”

A Minotaur, unable to endure the dozens of bone-deep wounds on its legs, unwillingly collapsed to its knees.

The instant it fell, a crimson blade-light sliced off its head.

“Screech—”

As the terrifying figure slowly approached, the mutated Goblins experienced something called ‘fear’ for the first time.

They frantically gathered their magic, hurling Flame Fireballs and Frost Spells at the blood-red silhouette.

From front, back, left, right, and even the air, Goblin projectiles rained down.

Fireballs and frost spells, like a sudden downpour, continuously struck around the Hero.

He swung his blade, deflecting a fireball that nearly struck his head, only for an ice spell to hit his abdomen the very next second.

An extreme cold burrowed into his body like a wriggling worm.

The Hero’s blade was incredibly swift; his slashes and parries were as fluid and perfect as an undying veteran of a hundred battles.

Yet, under such concentrated magical onslaught, his slender body was still constantly engulfed by spells.

The scorching flames continuously stoked his rage, while the biting cold of frost steadily eroded his sanity.

He had already slain dozens of Goblins and Minotaurs, but countless more monsters still seemed to surge forward.

The Hero felt an overwhelming irritation. He brutally swung his blade at monster after monster, allowing their foul, reeking blood to spray all over him.

But as the blade sliced through soft flesh, as he felt the keen edge pass, and bathed in the warmth of the gushing blood, the Hero smiled.

‘This feeling, this sensation of taking a life! How nostalgic, how familiar…’

Pain transformed into an addictive pleasure, and slaughter blossomed like a rose at dawn.

As if some memories were beginning to surface, the Hero suddenly brought the katana behind him, channeling magic to the soles of his feet.

He lunged forward in a swift slide, simultaneously swinging the katana in a wide, fan-like arc.

[Sword Skill: Triple Slash]

His body, like a crimson truck, smashed into the monster horde.

The three consecutive slashes instantly killed several Goblins.

Blood and gore splattered, limbs tore apart.

Terrified to their very core, the monsters slowly began to retreat. Some retaliated wildly, while others hesitated.

A particularly robust Minotaur let out a furious roar, gripping its stone axe tightly. It charged forward, and as it neared the Hero, it suddenly raised its weapon, bringing it down with all its might.

In the Hero’s eyes at that moment, the monster’s movements were agonizingly slow, and he was thoroughly pleased.

Therefore, he lowered his weapon, concentrated magic into it, and met the attack head-on with an upward slash.

Under normal circumstances, this would have been an incredibly irrational move. The Minotaur’s stone axe was crafted from hardstone found in Loran Forest, a material sturdy enough for castle walls. A direct collision between the rusty katana and the stone axe would likely shatter the slender blade.

The Minotaur seemed to revel in the joyous anticipation of cleaving the human into bloody fragments…

But then, a pale yellow light erupted along the blade of the katana.

The surging sword energy was akin to a cataclysmic landslide.

[Sword Skill: Ground Splitter Wave Sword]

The pale yellow sword energy shattered the Minotaur’s weapon, then tore through its skin, muscles, spinal cord, and brain, ripping its massive form into two incomplete halves.

Steaming entrails and blood splattered onto the Hero, rising as a white mist. The Hero rubbed his aching arm, turning his blood-red eyes towards the remaining monsters.

‘We’ll die! Fighting this thing will mean death!’

This realization suddenly became a shared consensus among many monsters. Unlike the other unintelligent species in the forest, they too felt sorrow, fear, and rage.

Facing those terrifying, blood-red eyes, a profound dread of death descended upon their hearts. A more timid Goblin fled, prompting another Minotaur to follow suit. The escape of these two monsters spurred more to make the same choice; in the decision between life and death, instinct screamed at these creatures to flee.

Nearly half of the monsters began to retreat…

“Do not retreat!” A thunderous voice exploded from the rear. “Do not fear this cursed human! Have you forgotten our suffering? It was our past weakness that condemned our kin to such a tragic fate!”

The Goblins’ retreating steps faltered…

Keno the Thunderstrike!

This entirely white Goblin strode with resolute steps towards the Hero. A leader’s cape draped over his shoulders, adorned with colorful feathers, and in his hand, he clutched a bronze short sword.

Its blade curved semi-circularly at the front, intricately carved with countless unknown patterns.

His sharp, eagle-like gaze met those bloodshot eyes, and Keno felt as if he could see the other’s pain through them.

‘Are you in pain? Compared to my agony, almost extinguished from existence, how much does your suffering truly amount to?’

Keno tensed every muscle in his body, gritted his teeth, and pointed his short sword directly forward. “My kin, do not be afraid! Today, we shall slay this human Hero!” he declared in a hoarse voice.

His voice echoed, heard by every monster present.

‘A Hero?! This human is a Hero!’

‘Our leader is going to slay a Hero?!’

“GRAWL-AH—” A Frost Goblin excitedly began to tear at its vocal cords, its sharp claws raking across the skin of its chest.

Fear and excitement simultaneously welled in their hearts. They dreaded the Hero’s strength, yet anticipated their leader’s triumph in slaying him.

One by one, the monsters began to roar, preparing to confront this human with unified effort.

“Human, you will die here.” Keno began to channel his magic, drawing in the surrounding lightning elements. “And your woman will be thoroughly humiliated by me!”

The Hero’s aura pulsed, and the murderous intent emanating from him intensified dramatically.

Keno pointed his short sword skyward, and pale blue lightning elements surged upwards, following its direction.

He then aimed his weapon at the Hero. “Taste the power of [Wrathful Lightning]!”

The previously oppressive dark clouds in the sky seemed to boil, with flashes of lightning continuously swirling within them.

The Hero suddenly felt a sinister premonition.

“Do not cease your attacks!” Keno commanded, directing the Minotaurs and Goblins to surround him. “And to the Minotaurs, sever this Hero’s head, and your leader will reward you handsomely!”

Watching the Goblins and Minotaurs swarm him in a concerted attack, the Hero’s heart sank.

‘My magic is running low. It seems I have no choice but to use *that* technique…’

After dodging several more fire and ice spells, he seized his chance.

Gripping the tip of his blade forcefully, he smeared his own blood onto its surface. Immediately, the katana seemed to come alive, trembling, as a thick, crimson aura emanated from it.

“What?” Keno felt a terrible premonition. He retreated a short distance, then glanced at the sky. “Hurry, descend! Hurry, descend!”

Perhaps hearing Keno’s urgent plea, a blinding bolt of lightning plummeted from high above, striking directly towards the Hero.

[Lightning Art: Wrathful Thunderfall]

He could feel the terrifying and surging power, but the lightning was too fast.

With his current body, evasion was utterly impossible.

‘Then I can only meet it head-on!’

Boiling blood energy surged upwards, and the Hero leaped high into the air.

His katana coalesced into a massive blood-red sword, slashing towards the falling lightning.

There was no escape, no retreat!

Boiling blood met Wrathful Lightning head-on, mortal steel clashed against nature’s fury.

The human body, in that moment, truly felt the wrath of nature, as the surging, vast thunder was terrifying beyond measure.

No sound could be heard; the deafening thunder drowned out all other noise.

No sight could be discerned; a blinding white light enveloped everything.

The object in his hand felt lighter, and the magic-infused blade seemed to have shattered into hundreds of pieces.

Fortunately, the coalesced blood-sword did not collapse. After withstanding the terrifying lightning, it landed heavily on the ground.

Moments later, the thick earth began to crack and crumble, and countless streams of blood energy erupted from beneath, like a bursting volcano.

The black and crimson blood energy, imbued with the aura of death, mercilessly reaped lives like a grim reaper’s scythe.

When the red blood energy dissipated, all the monsters present were utterly annihilated!

“Ah…” The Hero seemed to have exhausted all his strength, his blood-red eyes slowly regaining clarity. “Ah? What happened? How did I get here?” He noticed the countless corpses around him. “Wow, did I do all this? I’m amazing.”

“Bastard!” Keno’s eyes were bloodshot as he stared at the countless dead bodies of his kin, overwhelmed with grief and fury. “I will kill you!!!”

The sole remaining white Goblin roared, clenching his hand towards the sky. A even more terrifying bolt of Wrathful Lightning struck him.

He let out an agonizing shriek as savage lightning elements began to boil relentlessly within his body.

“Huh?” Roland froze, about to swing his blade, only to suddenly realize his katana had shattered into fragments. “How did it break?!”

“Run!” the Philosopher’s Stone warned. “Even you cannot withstand this attack! Run!”