episode_0100

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Illustration.

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The Beastkin.

They seek a lifelong companion.

And by forming a bond with that companion, they awaken the power dormant within their blood.

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Fenrir.

The Godslaying Wolf.

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Once, Fenrir was a being who led the Beastkin—a being worshipped as their god.

Though no definitive records of that existence remain now.

When they realized Cheon Yurang carried Fenrir’s blood, the Beastkin erupted into celebration.

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Even disregarding the Hero.

A descendant of divine blood had been born—some even argued whether summoning the Hero was necessary anymore.

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Cheon Yurang carried the weight of their expectations.

And fierce battles raged in the shadows over who would become her companion.

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Awakening the power in her blood, Cheon Yurang wielded terrifying strength.

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The Beast King still hadn’t forgotten.

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—Dad!

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The moment she declared she had chosen her companion and fully awakened her bloodline.

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The Beast King.

Still hadn’t forgotten that day.

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The Wolf Who Slayed Gods.

Though there was an immense difference in their levels, the sheer presence of Fenrir had been enough to threaten even him, the Beast King.

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‘Teeth that shouldn’t reach me—yet I felt as though they already had.’

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Cheon Yurang’s level was 6.

And the Beast King’s was 8.

A mere two-level difference.

But the gap between them was monstrous. Yet, when the Beast King saw Fenrir’s form, he was stunned by the realization that he could die.

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And then, he was consumed by thought.

What if she became the Beastkin’s chieftain?

Even if he was currently too weak to stand against other races—

With her, none of that would matter.

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He had been lost in such dreams.

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‘How could she have fallen this far?’

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Cheon Yurang looked little more than a wreck.

Disheveled hair. Eyes of shimmering blue now dull and lifeless.

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As the ruler of the Beastkin.

It pained him to see her reduced to this.

But more than that—

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As a father, he fumed with grief over what had become of his daughter.

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“Yurang.”

“…….”

Her empty gaze simply stared back at him.

Devoid of emotion. There was nothing in those eyes.

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When had he last seen eyes like that?

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The image of a man’s eyes surfaced briefly.

The Beast King dismissed the thought and spoke calmly.

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“A tournament to select the Hero will be held soon.”

“…….”

“That man denied being the Sword Hero, but most in [The Cradle] knew him as a candidate. Most of all—there’s no way Vulkan’s top disciple wouldn’t show up for such an event.”

Only then—

Cheon Yurang reacted. Her hollow eyes fixated on her father as she parted her lips slightly.

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“…He won’t care.”

“Did he say that?”

“No.”

“He’s more detached than you’d think. Do you believe he ran away because of you?”

“…….”

A flicker of fear surfaced in Cheon Yurang’s eyes.

If she met him again—

Her trembling gaze betrayed the dread that he might abandon her.

The Beast King loathed that look.

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“Go there. Whether he rejects you or accepts you—that’s your choice.”

“…….”

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The Beast King left after those words.

Cheon Yurang hugged her knees, sinking deep into thought.

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—

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Chomp chomp chomp chomp.

The only sounds came from all around—everyone chewing their meals.

It wasn’t surprising.

Because they were all just eating.

But this wasn’t just one or two people.

Two old men. A crown prince who had tagged along, eager to get closer to them and flaunt their connection. Then Veronica. And suddenly, even Clara showed up.

…Wait, when had Clara arrived?

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“I just wandered by, remembering the food you made last time. Then I saw Veronica noona here, so…”

“…….”

Veronica said nothing, too busy stuffing her face.

‘Don’t these people have their own factions?’

Why were they here, eating like this, when they didn’t even belong to this clan?

Not that I minded.

Those who had eaten my cooking before would inevitably beg for more, which worked in my favor.

But honestly—

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‘The real problem is those two who eat over ten servings by themselves.’

And the worst part?

They were the most politically influential—and simply the strongest.

No point hiding it.

Vulkan and Black Steel.

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‘Well, people in physically demanding jobs do eat more…’

A trade-off for superhuman movements beyond ordinary capability, I suppose.

They often suppress sexual urges or sleep, but never hunger.

According to the guy who got me obsessed with this game.

So it had to be true.

Still.

No matter what—

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‘Ten servings is pushing it.’

My physical stats were high enough that cooking ten servings wasn’t much of a hassle.

And with the dexterity from Thief’s Ultimate, cooking itself wasn’t the problem.

Ingredients?

Everyone here was paying at least a few gold coins per meal—more than enough to cover costs.

‘…Well, some paid in silver.’

Mainly the broke ones—Pin, Hansen, Glasses, or Theresa.

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—Looks delicious…

Maybe because they were eating so blissfully, even the Holy Sword chimed in.

“…….”

I’d felt it for a while now.

The Holy Sword had a distinctly different presence—

Almost as if it had once been human.

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After that lively dinner—

I whipped up some fries.

As I set the plate on the table—

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“Oh? What’s this snack?”

Black Steel’s voice, full of admiration.

Followed by Vulkan and the Crown Prince appearing.

‘…Damn pests.’

When had they even gotten here?

Didn’t matter.

Fries were quick to make anyway.

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“A night like this calls for wine. How about a 30-year vintage from the Ravian territory?”

“Whoa, that’s expensive.”

“Heh, it’s costly, but a small price for your camaraderie.”

Vulkan’s face lit up.

Must be really pricey if even he reacted.

‘Wine, huh.’

Been a while.

I’d had casual beers with comrades, but no vodka or wine since coming here.

Fries paired with fine wine?

Not the best combo, but if the wine’s good, who cares?

Pop.

The Crown Prince expertly uncorked the bottle with his bare hands.

‘Well, that’s possible here.’

In the real world? No way.

But with this world’s physical abilities? Definitely. Many could manipulate mana to pull off such feats.

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“Here, have a glass.”

The Crown Prince smiled, pouring first for Black Steel.

Then Vulkan, then me.

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“Allow me to serve you.”

“Appreciated, but I prefer pouring my own.”

At Black Steel’s words, the Crown Prince filled his own glass.

Then raised it lightly for a toast.

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“Shall we hear why Black Steel wanted this gathering?”

At the Crown Prince’s sly prodding, Black Steel sighed softly before locking eyes with me.

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“I’ve a favor to ask.”

“If it’s simple.”

“Then… teach my Yeonhwa the taste of defeat.”

“……?”

“My Yeonhwa ascended too effortlessly. Until now, raw talent sufficed—but beyond this point? That alone won’t carry her.”

“I see.”

“Oh, she has perseverance. Ruthlessness. Though she’s a bit of a fool, obsessing only over the sword.”

“…….”

I was momentarily speechless.

I’d assumed he was just a gentleman overly concerned about his disciple.

‘He’s just a doting dad.’

Though, judging by their names, she probably wasn’t his biological daughter.

Black Steel had dark eyes and beard—but no resemblance to So Yeonhwa.

She had a petite elegance, while Black Steel was nearly 2 meters tall like Vulkan.

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“Ahem. Regardless, my Yeonhwa doesn’t know defeat. To be precise—she’s lost, but only to us. Among her peers? She’s never tasted it.”

Ah.

Now I understood why he brought this up.

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“She’s exceptional—but if she keeps ascending this smoothly, she’ll crash hard one day. To run faster, she must learn to lose.”

“Why not just win forever instead?”

Black Steel chuckled dryly at my question.

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“No such being exists in this world.”

—…None remain undefeated. Those who win too much? The one loss they finally suffer destroys them.

Black Steel’s voice overlapped with the Holy Sword’s—

Laced with inexplicable regret.

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“So that’s my request. Defeat her once.”

“Sure, easy.”

She was undoubtedly strong.

But from what I’d glimpsed—

‘I can take her.’

So—

I grinned, meeting Black Steel’s gaze.

Then pinched my thumb and index finger together teasingly.

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“So, how much did you bring?”

“…….”

“Pfft.”

“Hah!”

Black Steel’s flustered expression.

Beside him, Vulkan and the Crown Prince burst out laughing.

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“Unbelievable. So strong, yet still materialistic.”

“Alternate translation: I’m buyable with money.”

“Fine. Since you seem honorable, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Black Steel gave me a measured look.

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“You. Vulkan mentioned you handle a bow.”

“One of my specialties.”

“A Sword Hero candidate who wields a bow…”

His brow furrowed—

But then he stared at me with eerie intensity.

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“Perhaps you’re… No, never mind. If you complete this request, I’ll acquire a fine bow for you.”

He rose as he spoke.

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“Make sure it’s top-tier.”

“Naturally.”

For the record?

I wasn’t in the business of losing fights.

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—

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The next day.

So Yeonhwa and I headed outside.

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“Finally teaching me?”

Her eyes sparkled with anticipation.

But I felt bad—

Because I had to break bad news to her.

My conscience prickled. But this was for the best—for both of us.

Closing my eyes briefly, I mourned my morality for three seconds before speaking.

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“I’ll teach you.”

“Finally!”

“But first, we’re practicing something else.”

“Something else?”

Her face fell—before hope flickered back.

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“Wait—those sword strikes you showed on the dummy?”

“The Hero’s orthodox swordsmanship.”

“That’s it! No wonder I couldn’t grasp it at first!”

She nodded eagerly.

‘Hero’s orthodox swordsmanship is hard?’

If someone demonstrated it, I could probably replicate it instantly.

Proof that Ultimate Combat was cheating.

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“Sorry, but I’m not a great teacher.”

“Mm.”

“So.”

I tossed her a wooden sword.

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“Learn by doing.”

I’d just beat the lessons into her.

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