Sowhere near the eastern border of Astoria, inside a cramped infirmary, Elias lay on a bed.
It had been almost ten days since he had survived that madness. His internal injuries were so severe that even reaching the Mythical rank hadn’t done him any good; his body felt like shattered glass held together by sheer will.
He had chosen this small, unremarkable room specifically to stay under the radar. After the horrors he had witnessed, he wanted no more attention on himself than he already had.
Suddenly, the wooden door creaked open. A figure stepped inside.
The mont the person entered, the air in the room grew heavy, suffocating. Every person present, man or woman, weak or strong, collapsed unconscious on the spot. Only Elias remained awake, and even he found himself gasping for air, his lungs burning.
The figure reached his bedside. When they spoke, the voice was smooth, sounding like honey to the ears, yet it carried a deadly edge. "Where is it?"
Elias didn’t hesitate for a single second. With trembling hands, he pulled out the box he had retrieved from the goblin treasure room and handed it over.
The person took the box, examining it closely. Their gloved hand began to glow with a deep, blood-red light. The entire box started to tremble, its locks clicking as it began to groan open. But before the lid could lift, the glow vanished. The person nodded. "You did well."
Elias gathered every ounce of his willpower just to speak. "Do you... do you have any idea what you asked of ? It took eight years. Eight whole years to find that thing. And the things I had to go through to get it... I almost died."
He began to whine like a child, completely forgetting that he was an old man and a legendary Assassin.
"Shut up," the person said.
Elias imdiately went silent. The figure took a seat nearby, unceremoniously shoving a groaning adventurer off the neighboring bed to make room.
"I felt sothing strange," the person continued. "Ten days ago, also there is disgusting yet amazing scent on your body. It isn’t yours. Start talking. Where were you? How did you find the box? How did you reach the next rank? And what was it that almost killed you?"
Elias took a deep breath and began to recount everything, the chaos, the power, and the man who defied logic.
After a long silence, the figure spoke. "Three heroes in their avatar forms couldn’t defeat a single man? That sounds like nonsense. But I don’t think you have the guts to lie to ... unless ranking up gave you an upgrade on your balls as well."
Elias gulped, his face pale. "No. I am telling the absolute truth."
"Then it’s sothing to really look forward to, ha..." The figure stood up. "I was going to leave this Empire the mont I had the box, but now you’ve given sothing very interesting to find. Good work. And as for your reward... it was supposed to be guidance to help you reach the next rank, but you’ve already stumbled your way there. Ask for sothing else. What do you want?"
Elias was surprised. He thought for a long ti, his mind racing. Finally, he whispered, "One favor. I want you to owe one favor, to be called upon when the ti cos."
Suddenly, the room froze. It felt as if Death itself had descended into the small infirmary. A mortal threat lood over Elias, cold and absolute. But he did not take his words back.
The pressure vanished as quickly as it had co. "I will allow you to be arrogant just this once," the voice said.
The person left the room. The mont the door closed, Elias collapsed into a deep sleep, ntally drained from the sheer pressure of dealing with such a monster.
The mysterious figure walked away from the infirmary, their footsteps silent against the dirt path. They didn’t go toward the town center; instead, they headed toward a secluded clearing surrounded by ancient, towering trees.
The figure stopped in the center of the clearing and stood still.
"Co out before I lose my patience," they said, the voice cold and bored.
From the shadows of the trees, a man stepped out. He was tall and elegant, dressed in ornate silver armor that shimred with enchantnts. His pointed ears and ethereal glow marked him as an Elf. His aura was fresh, sharp, and overflowing with power. He was a newly ascended Mythical rank expert.
The Elf raised a hand, a look of arrogant triumph on his face. "I have tracked you across three borders," the Elf said, his voice echoing with magical resonance. "The most wanted criminal in the entire Elven Empire. Do you know the glory I will receive when I bring your head back to the capital?"
The hooded figure said nothing. They didn’t even take a combat stance. In fact, they leaned slightly against a nearby tree, their head tilting back as if they were nodding off to sleep.
The Elf’s face contorted with rage. "You dare mock ? Look at ! I am a Mythical being!"
He slamd his staff into the ground. "Seventh Circle Magic: Verdant Execution!"
Massive erald vines, sharp as razor wire and thick as tree trunks, erupted from the earth. They swirled through the air like hungry serpents, closing in on the hooded figure from all sides. At the sa ti, the Elf began chanting a second spell, summoning spears of pure light that rained down from the sky.
The hooded figure remained still. The vines lashed out, and the light spears struck with the force of missiles. Dust and debris exploded into the air, obscuring the entire clearing.
"Is that all the Great Calamity is? To think I worried..."
The dust settled.
The hooded figure was still leaning against the tree. Not a single scratch marked their clothes. They were actually let out a small, audible yawn.
"Are you done?" the figure asked. "It’s been a long day. I’m tired."
Before the Elf could even blink, the figure was in front of him. There was no sound, no gust of wind—just a sudden, terrifying presence.
The figure’s hand moved in a blur. They didn’t use a weapon. They simply grabbed the Elf by the throat and slamd him into the ground. The impact was so great that the earth shattered, creating a crater ten ters wide.
The Elf tried to scream, but his lungs were crushed. He tried to cast a spell, but the mont he gathered mana, the figure’s red glow flared, and his magic was snuffed out like a candle in a hurricane.
She tightened her grip. A surge of dark, crimson energy flowed from her hand into the Elf’s body. He didn’t even have ti to scream before his body turned to ash, scattering into the wind.
The figure reached down and pulled back their hood, revealing long, flowing hair and eyes that held the weight of a thousand fallen kingdoms.
Her na was Kalithra Godchild, the Demon King. She was the very target Hiroshi had been summoned to defeat.
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