The Price of Power

“132.”

The long blade angled out, its magical aura a devastating light.

“133.”

Blood mist dispersed, and the monsters’ torn bodies piled high.

No foe could stand against him for a single blow. The sharp blade, enveloped in magic, cleaved through the flesh of these undead as if parting waves.

Having already eliminated 133 undead, even with their vast numbers, there was no chance of a comeback.

Kayar shook his somewhat numb right hand. He held the steel long blade horizontally, then gave it a few light flicks, shaking off the bloodstains.

Gazing at the blade’s newly gleaming surface, Kayar saw his own reflection.

‘I feel so much like a stranger now. Was this truly how I used to look?’

His brown hair had grown longer, and it was disheveled. His eyes were bloodshot, and his expression had grown considerably more grim.

‘And now, I…’

He attempted to curve his lips upwards, forcing a smile. Unbeknownst to him, in the eyes of those around, his smile was akin to that of a demon.

“Tsk, that’s not very natural,” Kayar muttered, his expression dropping into a frown. “Perhaps it would be better with more practice?”

He looked forward again, where a few undead were slowly retreating, gathering towards a specific point.

This expedition, undertaken alongside several hundred Templar Knights, had consumed many days. They had steadily worn down a significant number of these undead.

Now, only those undead trapped within this vicinity remained.

“These remaining ones are considerably stronger than those previous wastes,” Kayar remarked, sensing the distant magical fluctuations. A hint of seriousness entered his demeanor. “There’s even a Level 25 presence…”

Though not a high level, its magical intensity was formidable, suggesting it wouldn’t be easily dealt with.

“Your Highness,” Silvio approached him, reporting, “We have now contained these undead within a few thousand square units.”

Kayar casually wiped a bloodstain from his clothes. “How many do you estimate are left?”

“Fewer than a hundred,” Silvio replied, his face etched with worry. “However, of the 300 Templar Knights we brought, 156 have already fallen…”

“Oh,” Kayar responded, entirely unconcerned. To him, these knights were merely simple statistics.

“It seems there’s a truly terrifying monster ahead. Should we perhaps slow our assault?”

Upon hearing Silvio’s words, Kayar’s expression shifted to one of confusion. “Are you not Level 30? Why would you fear a Level 25 undead?”

“It’s different, Your Highness. We knights are not adept at magic. If we were to face that monster directly…”

“Hmph—” Kayar scoffed, a look of impatience flashing in his eyes. “You lot are utterly useless.”

Ignoring the Templar Commander’s thoughts, he cast a disdainful glance and strode forward.

Silvio remained rooted to the spot, his face dark and sullen. Kayar’s contempt deeply wounded the Templar Knight’s spirit.

He gazed at the new Hero’s retreating back with a complex expression, his right hand clenching the longsword at his hip, veins bulging.

It wasn’t merely the disdain directed at him. It was also because this Hero, in his haste to eradicate the undead, had recklessly ordered the Templar Knights to drive them into a desperate encirclement.

‘Do you truly care nothing for the lives of your comrades?’

‘How many of those who sacrificed themselves were my friends, my subordinates? Whose fathers, whose sons, whose husbands were they?’

‘Us? Useless?’

‘Was serving such a Hero truly worth it for a Templar Knight?’

“To die for glory…” Silvio murmured, following mechanically, a self-deprecating smile on his lips. “What kind of glory is this?”

‘It’s laughable.’

****

The battle was nearing its conclusion. At the cost of dozens of Templar Knights’ lives, the massive, pale-blue undead exhaled its final [Ice Breath].

With no further threat, Kayar seized the opportunity. He leaped forward, landing on the monster’s shoulder, and with a single swing of his blade, severed its head.

The colossal body toppled, crushing the surrounding bushes, and crashed heavily to the ground, raising a cloud of dust.

In that instant, a torrent of wild magic surged forth, flowing into Kayar’s body.

“Now I am… Level 20…” Feeling the abundant magic coursing through him, Kayar was filled with immense pleasure.

He slightly raised the Divine Gauntlet Georgius on his left hand, his gaze fixed on the peculiar gauntlet.

“Is this the power of a Divine Artifact?” he mused aloud. “If it’s so potent, how could it be ranked merely second among divine artifacts?”

To Kayar’s surprise, the eerie red eye on the gauntlet suddenly opened.

“Holy Sword… Holy Sword…” A voice, utterly bizarre and terrifying, resonated like a devil’s whisper. “There’s a Holy Sword’s aura…”

Kayar froze, instinctively glancing around, exchanging bewildered looks with the Templar Knights.

“A Holy Sword’s aura?” he asked, his face etched with doubt. “Where?”

Silvio also approached him, a puzzled expression on his face. “Your Highness, the Holy Sword vanished 50 years ago. It’s impossible…”

“There’s no mistake… that immensely surging power…” The red eye on the gauntlet writhed malevolently before locking onto the monster’s corpse. “You… absorb that monster’s memories… quickly…”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Kayar’s face paled, as if a terrible memory had surfaced, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead. “Monster memories affect humans! I tried absorbing a regular undead’s memories before, and it nearly killed me… Hey! What are you doing!”

His left hand began to extend forward uncontrollably. Kayar tried to restrain his left arm with his right hand.

It was useless; his right hand also stiffened the moment it touched the Divine Gauntlet.

Soon, even other parts of his body started to move against his will.

‘Stop! Stop this instant! Georgius, aren’t you a Divine Artifact that obeys me?! What about [Divine Artifact Mastery]? Why isn’t it working!’

“Someone!” Kayar roared at the stunned Templar Knights. “Come and pull me back!”

The surrounding Templar Knights froze, unsure what was happening to their Hero.

After exchanging glances, the Templar Knight closest to Kayar reached out, intending to halt the Hero’s relentless advance towards the pale-blue corpse.

However, the moment his hand touched Kayar’s body, a horrifying surge of magic spread directly from his palm into his own.

“Aaaaaaah—”

The knight suddenly let out a frantic shriek, his life force, magic, thoughts, and memories all instantly devoured.

Moments later, his body exploded, sending flesh and blood flying. Witnessing this horrific spectacle, the remaining knights who had intended to advance halted, even stepping back in terror.

Silvio’s face was utterly stunned. He hesitated for a moment before making a gesture for everyone to stop advancing.

“I didn’t do it!” Kayar roared, equally baffled by what was happening. “Someone else, come and pull me back!”

No one dared to step forward again. The knights obeyed Silvio’s command, maintaining a considerable distance from Kayar.

‘These… useless fools!’

Without any external interference, the Divine Gauntlet Georgius swiftly affixed itself to the massive, pale-blue corpse.

“No…” Kayar’s face was contorted with fear, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He tried to command it again. “Don’t do this! I am your master, you should…”

“No one… can command me…” The eerie pupil now pulsed with a red glow. “Hero… utter the incantation…”

“I won’t… Ugh… he…” Kayar’s mouth was no longer under his control. “No—hea… heal—”

Memories and magic began to surge frantically from the point where the Divine Gauntlet made contact.

At this moment, he felt as though he stood beneath a ten-thousand-meter-deep, pitch-black abyss. Looking up, he saw boundless magic, like a vast ocean, crashing down.

Accompanying this catastrophic tidal wave were countless black, twisted memory fragments. These fragments represented the monsters’ memories—distorted, savage, evil, and chaotic.

Utterly evil, utterly wicked, utterly bizarre, utterly disastrous. They were a fusion of filth and mire, a product of madness and derangement.

Should a human absorb even a trace of such memories, it would have a terrifying impact on their thoughts and mind.

Now, the memory fragments from above rained down like torrents.

He could not move, nor could he cry out. He could only remain frozen in place like a statue, silently awaiting for countless agonies to violently engulf his body.

The Templar Knights encircled the Hero, consistently maintaining a safe distance. They could not perceive the Hero’s current state, only finding his appearance exceptionally bizarre.

At times he trembled, at times he sweated, at times he wept, and at times he laughed maniacally.

Kayar’s throat emitted a beast-like growl, and his face twisted in agony as if his brain were being chiseled open. Yet, at other moments, he would suddenly wear an expression of bliss, tears and snot streaming down his face.

The only certainty was that his magical power was surging explosively!

Level 21, Level 22, Level 23…

The moment the Divine Artifact detached from the corpse, the Healing Hero’s level finally settled at Level 25.

He had grown stronger, but his gaze had also become stranger.

“Holy Sword…” Kayar’s eyes were vacant, and his throat emitted a twisted, eerie sound. “You are indeed still here…”

“Your Highness!” Silvio finally stepped forward, observing Kayar with a mix of alarm and uncertainty. “Are you well?”

Kayar turned his head, his formerly amber eyes now intensely blood-red. Silvio instantly lowered his gaze upon meeting them, instinctively tightening his grip on his longsword.

‘What kind of eyes are those…?’

‘So terrifyingly evil!’

“Heheheh…” Kayar’s left arm slowly rose, his five fingers wiggling slightly as he chuckled sinisterly. “Of course… I’m wonderful…”

He snapped his fingers with his left hand. In an instant, a burst of azure magical light waves erupted.

These ripple-like magical waves surged outwards in all directions, as savage cold water elements brutally clung to every surrounding object.

[Water Magic: Ice Breath – Burst]

The temperature on the field plummeted, and the ground, leaves, armor, and even human bodies were coated in thick frost.

Before this ferocious power of ice, the Templar Knights’ magic was as fragile as paper. They had no chance to struggle, instantly freezing into ice sculptures.

“Hmm…” Kayar smiled contentedly. “Excellent…”

Silvio possessed the highest magical level among all the knights present; as the Commander, his magic level was 5 levels higher than Kayar’s. However, facing such terrifying power, he could only barely resist.

Between a swordsman and a Hero, a slight level advantage held no meaning.

“Hmph—” Silvio grunted, breaking the frost coating him with his magic. His eyes narrowed, immense magic surging forth as he drew the longsword from his hip and raised it to his shoulder.

‘He was certain this Hero was no longer sane, attacking his own comrades… Then he is not worthy of my service!’

“Heal—”

Kayar instantly teleported behind him, the gauntlet covering his head. Silvio’s eyes instantly became vacant.

He mechanically knelt on the ground, dropped his longsword, and surrendered all resistance.

“Taking over the body so early is pointless… I must make this fellow even stronger…”

Kayar suddenly lowered his head, and when he reopened his eyes, they had reverted to their previous amber hue.

“Hoo… hoo… haa…”

He gasped, a mix of shock and uncertainty, gazing at the eerie ice sculptures surrounding him, a chill of terror seizing his heart.

“Hey!” He shook Silvio’s shoulders, demanding, “What happened!”

He shook him for an indeterminate amount of time, until Kayar’s hands grew numb, before Silvio’s consciousness finally returned.

“Your Highness…” Silvio recalled vaguely, then stated, “The Frost Undead’s corpse… it was a trap… only we are left alive…”

“Is that… truly so?” Kayar asked, disbelief coloring his tone. “Why do I feel like something is wrong?”

“I don’t know, I don’t remember…” Silvio struggled to his feet, speaking with effort. “Your Highness, we must return quickly to report.”

“Yes, yes…” Kayar’s heart pounded for an unknown reason, and he desperately wanted to escape this place.

When his gaze fell upon the gauntlet on his left hand once more, a strange tremor of fear arose within him.

‘A Divine Artifact… what exactly is this thing?’