Chapter 36: Did you get rid of it?

“That kid’s gotten disgustingly strong.”

Seven years after the hero’s party was formed to combat the demon race, the hero’s skills surpassed those of his teammates.

The mightiest barbarian warrior of the north.

The versatile dwarf.

The elf prince born with genius talent.

A cardinal-level cleric.

Even the King of Thieves, hailed as the god of scouting and assassination.

They were monsters among humanity’s elite, yet he outstripped them.

By a wide margin.

An overwhelming gap, leaving no chance of victory.

—Ambush, attack, assassination—impossible.

Even the King of Thieves, known as the god of assassination, had given up on killing the hero.

Having slain thousands of demons and hundreds of devils, this hero had already transcended humanity.

Had he drawn the holy sword, he could’ve wielded the authority of a divine apostle long ago.

But now, even a simple branch could cleave an army.

Without the holy sword, through countless battles and training, the hero himself had become impossibly strong.

“RAAAAGH!!!”

If the demons’ stronghold wasn’t in another realm but on this world, it might’ve ended in less than a decade.

Even accounting for a final-boss-level archdemon or mopping up remnants, the hero’s growth rate would’ve sufficed.

The moment he learned their base was beyond this planet, he roared about cosmic Zerg-like races, a monstrous figure even to his allies.

Perhaps one day he’d soar into the heavens without a magi-tech rocket, reaching the realm of constellations.

The hero’s party, having watched him for years, genuinely believed it.

“He’d make a great pair with the Goddess, too.”

“Warrior, refrain from such blasphemous—”

[‘Balance of Order and Causality’ smiles, pleased with the praise.]

“…Uh, Goddess?”

Indeed, being a hero summoned from another world gave him an otherworldly vibe.

Not that it was bad.

Unique, charming in its own way, diligent, and polite to boot.

To them, the hero became a significant presence, distinct from family.

Perhaps feeling the same, the hero, who’d been yelling and raging at the sky, one day approached them with a solemn expression, holy sword in hand.

“…Uh?”

“What’s wrong, Hero?”

His deadly serious face made even the bold northern warrior and dwarf tense up.

Surely he wouldn’t harm them, but the uncharacteristically heavy mood was hard to brush off.

What was it about?

“Since I’ve got some free time, I thought I’d forge a sword.”

“A sword? Want me to craft one?”

The master dwarf pointed to himself eagerly, but the hero, after staring at the party’s muscle-bound veterans, slowly shook his head.

“Not a physical sword. With time on my hands, I think it’s best to forge my own blade.”

Swordsmanship.

The art of slaying demons.

Having honed it for seven years, he now, albeit belatedly, wanted to reflect on his inner world.

After cutting away the vile demons and devils, only two things remained for him.

“I’ll remember you all as my sword.”

“Ignar.”

Whoosh—!

A flame sparked.

A fire of destruction and life, brimming with infinite potential.

A blade born in the frigid north, embodying a warrior fiercer than any.

The sword of a vanguard charging forward.

The harsh northern environment couldn’t kill him, nor could the fiercest blizzards of frozen wastelands defeat this indomitable warrior.

He was flame itself.

A raging inferno to foes, yet a gentle warmth to allies.

Perhaps seen as simple, this warrior, through the Goddess’s light and the hero’s transcendence forged in endless battles, became a sun within his blade.

Evolving into an even fiercer blaze.

***

WHOOOOSH—!!

A protective flame repelled the blizzard and icicle barrage aimed at the hero.

Feeling her mana waver, Blue Tower Master Elnair Grantz trembled, her gaze unsteady.

No attack or curse could pierce that flame, as if a divine authority had been invoked.

“Dark Tarantula.”

But the astute dark mage Erneong didn’t retreat—he advanced.

Fire countering ice magic?

A well-known matchup for centuries, hardly surprising.

He’d come prepared with gear and scrolls attuned to ice and fire, just in case.

I can handle this.

…It was hotter than expected, but not enough to kill him instantly.

Kill the opponent before burning out—that’s the rule of life-or-death battles.

Trusting his fire resistance, Erneong pressed forward, grimacing.

The moment the eerily calm man entered range, Erneong, hands blackened, cast a lethal spell.

“Venom Fang.”

Instantly, a deadly poison capable of melting a young dragon sprayed forward.

BOOOOM!!!

The black liquid’s momentum seemed enough to obliterate everything in its path.

A composite poison—disintegrating on contact or rotting away even if resisted.

Yes, this cocky guy, relying on fire magic to climb the tower, would die without a trace.

Whoever he was, storming their base justified self-defense.

A rightful counterattack… or rather, that didn’t matter.

…Did I get him?

The moment their eyes met, Erneong’s body shuddered, as if facing a predator, his soul trembling like he was on the brink of death.

He had to eliminate him while he had the chance.

If he missed this opportunity, he’d die without even a chance to fight back.

Surely it was just his imagination.

But driven by that panic, Erneong’s instincts propelled him forward.

Waiting to join the fight with the Tower Master might’ve been wiser, but now he understood.

“A rough welcome like this is a bit much.”

Hiss— Amid lingering flames, a poisonous mist rose, revealing the man’s intact form.

Crack—snap—

The sound of bones creaked as he twisted the neck he held.

Each noise sent chills through Erneong, who swallowed hard and prepared the next spell.

He unfurled a scroll from his pocket.

He’d hoped to avoid using it until his deal with the Tower Master was settled, but he had no choice.

Chanting the scroll’s runes, Erneong cast the spell.

As his mana drained, his skin grew ashen, aging slightly, but it was worth it.

A power drawn from hell itself.

“Hellfire.”

No dramatic explosion or flair.

Just a somber, pitch-black fireball materialized in the air.

Beyond concepts of cold or heat, it held the power to plunge all it touched into ruin.

This time, if it connected, it would kill that creepy kid.

Grinning with joy despite his drying skin, Erneong hurled the black fireball.

Slash—

And the hero cut it.

“…Huh?”

Silently, like an assassin.

The fireball vanished instantly, as if it had been a dream.

A spell like Hellfire, gone in a moment—it was unbelievable.

…My Hellfire?

Stunned, Erneong gaped, eyes wide, as Shin Yuseong, expressionless, swung his fist.

“Guh!”

A restrained punch slammed into Erneong’s face.

Thud, crash, boom—

Like a frail mage, he couldn’t keep his balance, tumbling across the floor, twitching, then slumping unconscious.

***

Okay, one down.

[The Goddess nods with a satisfied expression.]

He’d briefly considered killing him for using demon-like magic but held off.

Flexing his fist, the hero turned to the remaining culprit—Blue Tower Master Elnair Grantz.

…Was he going to hit her like that, too?

How had it come to this?

In her own stronghold, she felt cornered.

Fidgeting and biting her lip, unable to find an answer, she shouted impulsively.

“I don’t know where you came from, but this is utterly unjust—!”

“What’s she on about?”

Unjust?

He didn’t care.

The hero circled behind the Tower Master and struck her neck.

“Guh!”

Nice, another one out.

These types, who’d faint with one chop, sure talk a lot.

Shaking his head with a scoff, Shin Yuseong, feeling he’d cleared the initial quest, set the woman on his back down on a relatively intact patch of floor.

He looked at the patient he’d delayed treating.

“…Hah, hah.”

Seol Yeonhwa.

Her labored breathing was the same as before, but a vivid flush on her face and warmth spreading through her body marked a clear difference.

Her body, once filled only with yin energy, was now wrestling with the influx of yang energy.

Left alone, her constitution would soon overpower the yang, reverting to its original state.

Letting that happen would waste all the effort spent gathering ingredients.

Crack—snap—

He decided to help a bit more.

Loosening his hands, the hero sat beside her, taking a slow breath.

First, he untied the sash of her groaning, pain-stricken clothes.

To be continued…