Chapter 19

[Weak.]

At those words, I lost my cool and swung my sword wildly. I flooded the blade with mana. My sword was fast—so fast even to my eyes it left only afterimages. But the Death Knight either dodged or blocked them.

The monster even turned my force against me, deflecting my strikes. Each time, I lost my balance and had to fight not to fall. Cuts piled up as the minutes dragged on. My left shoulder split wide open, bleeding without end.

Every one of the Death Knight’s strikes could have killed me. I poured out everything, leaving only a sliver of mana, yet I couldn’t so much as brush its cloak. Its swordwork was precise and delicate—and brutally strong. I couldn’t keep my head in front of it; the occasional counter was all I managed. It felt like a moment that denied everything I had built.

More than despair, I felt anger at myself.

“Aaaah!”

I screamed in frustration. I had thought I was strong; I wasn’t. The Death Knight toyed with me, and I fought with everything just to avoid dying.

My stamina hit its limit. I had a little mana left. There was only one choice.

The instant I slipped past its next strike, I countered—only for it to block with ease. Using the rebound from the clash, I turned and ran. I could almost hear the Death Knight laughing behind me.

I devoted myself to treatment for a while. I had thought only my left shoulder was bad—wrong. My lower back was split open too, and my back throbbed with vicious pain I couldn’t even see. Unbelievably, these were the worst wounds I had suffered in the Demon Realm. My left arm was so damaged I couldn’t use it for daily tasks.

I realized I had grown complacent in a realm crawling with monsters and beasts. Had I really let my guard down here? Maybe being steeped in demonic energy had dulled me.

Healing magic helped a lot, and I spurred the process along with circulating qi. After more than twenty sleeps, my body had fully recovered.

I gripped my sword for the first time in a while and ran through every form I knew from the beginning. I was strong enough not to fear monsters and beasts. My fundamentals were solid, my real combat experience vast. And yet, in the end, I was weak.

All arrogance left me with was humiliation and self-loathing.

Fixing the Death Knight in my mind, I began training anew in the Demon Realm.

Kark’s training did not go unnoticed.

A man with violet hair and refined features hovered leisurely in the air, watching him with curious eyes.

“What an amusing human.”

Rumors had already spread across the Demon Realm: a human had entered. The last time humans had come here was ages ago, and most had either died or been reborn as Death Knights.

But now, for the first time in centuries, a human had appeared—young, stronger than expected, and carrying a familiar aura. At first, the man thought Kark was a dragon. Yet after a few investigations, he realized the truth: this was a human who had inherited the essence of dragons.

Countless eyes and ears usually lurked near Kark. But at this man’s presence, they all withdrew.

Hiberio.

The only son of Demon King Belephor, and heir to rule the Demon Realm. Since he watched the human with such interest—no, with joy—none dared touch Kark.

“Young Master.”

Space itself split behind Hiberio, and a face peeked through.

“Hmm? Does Father call for me?”

“Yes. You’ve wandered quite far today… Is that the human?”

The demon who had torn the space open also gazed with interest.

“He’s amusing.”

“There’s even betting going on inside the Inner City.”

“Betting?”

“Yes. Wagers on how far that human will go. Just a diversion.”

“If he makes it to the Inner City, that would be fun indeed.”

Hiberio smiled inwardly, hoping the human would reach the domain where demons lived. Then he stepped through the rift.

In the midst of training, there were moments when I forgot my sword—and even forgot myself. At those times, my body felt indescribably refreshed, and I discovered that demonic energy seeped out of me.

I had no idea how many years had passed. After my humiliating defeat against the Death Knight on a specter horse, I must have slept over a thousand times. Whenever I was awake, I trained.

Death Knights without their ghostly mounts were no longer opponents for me. Yet I wasn’t satisfied. I still had the intuition that I couldn’t face the mounted ones.

After more than two thousand sleeps, I finally realized I had advanced. Everything was different. My body moved as freely as I wished, and manipulating mana felt as natural as moving my fingers.

Sometimes, I forgot the set forms entirely. Practicing old forms, I’d suddenly find myself moving in ways I had never learned before.

After over three thousand sleeps, I stopped training. Further growth wouldn’t come through practice alone. I had already absorbed the Dragon Hearts, and my body overflowed with power.

So I ended my training and immediately set out to find the Death Knight on its specter horse. Each step I struck into the ground carried me five meters forward. It didn’t take long before I found one—though it wasn’t the same as before.

[Human.]

The Death Knight drew its sword and advanced.

I poured mana into my blade. Refined, brilliant sword energy lit the surroundings. The tightly condensed mana was proof—clear, objective proof—that I was no longer the same as before.

I distributed mana exactly where it was needed as I closed the distance. At striking range, I shifted my body to the side of the specter horse. The beast’s massive bulk filled my vision.

Sword paths I had moved through tens of thousands of times unfolded before me. My sword moved effortlessly, instinctively.

The specter horse let out an eerie cry and dissolved into mist. The Death Knight’s eyes flared brighter, fixing down on me.

I lowered my sword and steadied my breath.

[Strong, indeed.]

“You were human once, weren’t you?”

[So you dare to drag out my shameful past.]

The light in its eyes deepened. Blue currents spilled thicker from its helm, pressing down from all directions with a weight that was neither killing intent nor mere aura, but something far heavier.

[Be reborn as a glorious existence.]

The Death Knight declared it would force me into a fate I hadn’t asked for. Its hand reached for its hilt.

I laughed and lunged forward.

“You’re not ready for battle!”

Before it could even draw its blade, I struck. My sword flowed like water, adjusting mid-swing to chase it when it twisted away.

My relentless assault pressed in without pause. Once I had seized the advantage, I refused to let go. My sword moved like a venomous serpent, hunting every gap in the Death Knight’s defenses.

Most of my strikes landed, yet they couldn’t cut through its armor. Each time my blade met the steel, thunderous explosions echoed and the Death Knight’s body jerked from the impact—but that was all. The blue aura around it wavered, scattered, then stabilized again.

I drew out more mana, pouring it into my blade until it blazed brilliantly, and attacked again. The pressure weighed on me, but the results were clear. My sword grew faster, sharper, more forceful. The Death Knight failed to evade, taking blows head-on. Explosions rang in all directions until finally, I severed its arm.

The Death Knight dropped to one knee.

[Human…]

“What? Does it shame you?”

I steadied my stance, holding back instead of pressing forward. My lungs burned from the effort.

[I acknowledge you.]

I exhaled deeply. Even separated, the fallen arm was still tethered to the torso by streams of blue aura. The Death Knight forced itself upright.

I struck again.

[Human! Such dishonor in your combat!]

“Looking for chivalry?”

[To see pride dragged through the dirt…!]

Its eyes flared violently. Its aura surged, swelling to a crushing presence that made my flesh tremble. Never before in the Demon Realm had I felt such pressure.

If this had been the old me, my chest would have caved in and my mind shattered.

“Pride means nothing once you’re dead.”

[Even in death, pride remains.]

“Then why cling to pride in the Demon Realm?”

I retorted coldly and thrust. My blade pierced the Death Knight’s cold armor. I drove mana explosively into the strike, the sword aura roaring larger and wilder.

The Death Knight twisted, clutching my shoulder with its remaining hand. The icy, iron grip bit through me.

“Farewell.”

I released the mana I had been holding back.

The sword, overloaded, disintegrated in a burst of light. The Death Knight vanished, leaving behind only scattered armor.

My breath came ragged, my arms trembling after the relentless explosions of power.

The armor and sword clattered onto the ground. The blade looked sturdier than mine. I picked it up, inspecting the edge. A few chips had formed from our clash, but it would serve. And when it broke, I’d just take another from the next one I killed.

For now, I sat down and began regulating my breath.

“Will you swear loyalty to me, or will you be erased?”

[According to knighthood, I shall serve you as my master.]

“Good.”

I smiled with satisfaction. Just like that, three Death Knights had become my subordinates.

I stored them in my subspace and looked around. The environment had changed. Trees grew, and to my surprise, there was grass too. The colors were dull, but they were plants nonetheless. The sky still held no sun, yet life persisted.

The Death Knights in this area didn’t have specter horses, but they were far stronger. Some even swore allegiance to me. Others, gravely injured, begged me to finish them off. I didn’t hesitate to grant that wish. Afterward, I learned to subdue them completely without crippling wounds, forcing surrender rather than granting death. I suffered my own injuries along the way, but the outcome was worth it.

Each Death Knight was nearly equal to me in strength, and now I had three of them. That alone was a formidable force in the Demon Realm.

“How do I get back home?”

I had been seriously pondering that question for days.

By now, I had slept nearly four thousand times in the Demon Realm, and I had grown completely accustomed to life here. But this place wasn’t meant for living—and it wasn’t my home.

I had a place I needed to return to.

The old man from Benjamin Village drifted in and out of my fading memory. My time there was growing blurry. Even Jack and Neef came to me only in fragments. It wasn’t that I burned with longing anymore. It was simply… I had to return.

I thought I hadn’t changed, but looking back, I had. Survival forced me to adapt, and without realizing it, I had become someone different.

“Hm.”

I sat on a nearby rock and summoned the three Death Knights, ordering them to guard me while I thought.

I had come to the Demon Realm through a portal in the temple. A portal—a gate linking dimensions. The answer had to lie in magic.

Fortunately, my knowledge of magic was vast.

I scoured through the archives in my mind—dimensional travel, theoretical foundations, mana refinement, the construction of magic circles. All of it.

Only after a long time did I finish piecing together a plan. I rose to my feet and glanced around. A few monsters lay dead nearby, their corpses proof of the Death Knights’ vigilance. The three still stood watch, their hollow eyes scanning every direction.

“How do I gather the mana…?”

Drawing the dimensional magic circle wouldn’t be a problem—the theory was already in my head. The real issue was mana. The circle itself required enormous amounts to inscribe, and activating it would demand even more.

Far more than I could ever store in my body.

I’d need something like the refined Dragon Hearts from the temple.

Ah… right. I still had a Dragon Heart.

I pulled the crystal from my chest.