The Demon King is unfathomable

Chapter 434 The Seed of Legend!

【

Godhead: Luo Yan

Legendary Factors: The Demon King of Thunder County, the Flame King south of the Ten Thousand Ren Mountains, the generous, wealthy, and benevolent Prince Colin, a commoner councilor born in the Demon God Temple, the founder of science, the divine child of the Twilight Province...

Influence share: 1.8% (↑0.9)

Overdraft limit: 0%
Domination efficiency: 100%
Seed of Myth (Demigod): 0
Seed of Legends (Grandmaster): 1 (+1)

Amethyst Seed (Amethyst): 0
Seed of Diamond (Diamond): 0 (-1)

】

……

The night is deep.

The noisy atmosphere inside Sparrowwood Castle, which had lasted all day, finally returned to calm, replaced by the soft rustling of patrolling soldiers' armor and the crackling of campfires in the distant camp.

Karen carried a brass candlestick as she walked slowly along the castle's cold stone corridor.

The flickering candlelight illuminated her beautiful face and revealed a hint of confusion and unease deep within her clear eyes. Her simple nun's robe, though concealing her full figure, could not hide the anxiety in her heart.

She arrived at the door of a guest room, took a deep breath to calm her wildly beating heart, and then gently knocked on the door.

Sarah, who was wiping her dagger, raised her eyelids slightly before lowering her gaze.

Actually, she knew who it was just from the sound of footsteps; what she was doing just now was purely a subconscious reaction.

Luo Yan, who was meditating with his eyes closed, didn't open them and just casually said something.

"Please come in."

Just now, he discovered that his influence share had broken through from below 1% to above 1%, and he was finally able to condense a legendary seed.

Without any hesitation, Luo Yan immediately upgraded his soul level from Diamond to Grandmaster, and now his level cap has reached LV170.

Although his level is far from reaching the Diamond level cap of LV130, it doesn't stop him from enjoying the "offerings" from the believers ahead of time.

In addition, we gained a lot of faith power this time, so we can consider promoting a group of diamond-level demon generals when we get back.

I hope they didn't slack off in their cultivation while I was away, otherwise even if I gave them the opportunity to level up, they wouldn't be able to reach the diamond level immediately.

That would make it impossible to highlight that it was I who helped them overcome the bottleneck, and it would be difficult for the demons to remember the Demon King's kindness.

The door opened gently, and Karen walked in from outside.

Luo Yan opened his eyes and glanced at the devout nun.

Perhaps it was because she embodied the faith of the people, or perhaps the change in position altered her aura, but he could clearly sense that this girl, who had once wandered helplessly in the snow, only able to curse the injustice of fate, had become completely different from before.

Whether it's temperament or not.

It still looks the same.

The flickering candlelight cast a faint sanctity on her silhouette, as if she were a true servant of the gods.

She is now so different that even her former relatives might not recognize her.

“Mr. Colin, I’m so sorry to bother you so late at night,” Karen placed the candlestick on the table, gave a slightly awkward bow, and said softly, “I just wanted to ask if you are getting used to living here. The castle is simple, so please let me know if there is anything that makes you uncomfortable. I would be happy to help you.”

Her words were filled with piety and respect, and a hint of barely perceptible admiration... or perhaps it could be interpreted as trust.

Luo Yan could tell that she wasn't being sincere. His eyes, which seemed to see through everything, held a hint of a smile as he spoke in a friendly tone.

"I'm fine. The conditions here are much better than the hardships of traveling. But you seem to be preoccupied. Is something bothering you?"

Karen's cheeks flushed slightly as he saw through her thoughts. After a brief silence, she nodded gently and began to recount her sorrows.

“As you instructed, we have led the lost sheep back to the right path, and as you expected, we have fulfilled their three wishes. However… they seem to have become dependent on our help and are unwilling to let us leave their side.”

After she finished speaking, she raised her head, looked at Colin with reverence, and said in a sincere voice.

"I implore you to give me guidance again and tell me... what should I do next?"

Unlike her composed demeanor in front of believers, she could only reveal her inner confusion in front of the deity she served.

Luo Yan listened patiently to her confusion, and after a moment's thought, he spoke.

"Isn't this nice?"

Karen paused for a moment.

"Pretty good" means...

Looking at the face that was stunned with confusion, Luo Yan smiled faintly and explained in a gentle tone.

“I never said I would take you away after fulfilling their wishes. Since they consider you their saint and want to continue the will of the Salvation Army, then you should just faithfully play the role of the saint.”

Karen was caught off guard by Mr. Colin's unexpected remark, especially the part about him not intending to take her with him.

"But... but I don't know where to take them! I'm afraid I'll lead them into another abyss—"

Luo Yan interrupted her confusion and patiently explained.

"I must tell you that even gods cannot know what will happen in the future. All I can see are the possibilities after countless choices. Ultimately, the future path must be decided by people. You must learn to listen to your inner voice and do what you believe is right."

"Belief is the right thing to do..." Karen murmured to herself, repeatedly pondering the words in her mind, a hint of understanding seeming to surface in her eyes.

“That’s right.” Luo Yan nodded and said with a smile, “Also, before I can resolve your confusion, I might have to put a little pressure on you.”

Concealing her confused expression, Karen adopted a posture of attentive listening.

"Please tell me."

Luo Yan pondered his words for a moment before speaking.

“A righteous soul is heading from the Duchy of Campbell toward Twilight City, and all of you combined, including those in the castle, are no match for him.”

This battle will lay the foundation for the Duchy of Campbell's rise to power. The feudal lords' serf troops will be no match for the industrialized Duchy of Campbell, and the eyes of half the continent will be focused on this tiny place located on the northeast coast of the Whirlpool Sea.

Later historians will find all sorts of reasons for this victory, but from the perspective of the gods, it can actually be summarized in one sentence—

Their nation's destiny has arrived.

The Duchy of Campbell is entering a special period, with conservative nobles and an ambitious king at odds, and the king's reliance has, unusually, shifted from nobles to commoners.

Since the reign of Isaac, the Campbellians have waited a thousand years for this day, and this magnificent flame will not be swayed by anyone's will or suffering.

"Colin" only played the role of a catalyst.

Even without this prince from the empire, Archduke Edward's ambition, coupled with the support of the Andean family, would have led them to create something similar sooner or later.

I heard they've recently come up with bonds, and I estimate that they'll soon be devising "paper money" due to tightening liquidity.

The common people, who have long been subservient to the aristocracy, will rise up in this trial and gradually awaken to their own will.

"Then... what should we do?" Karen stared at him blankly, unable to fully process what was behind the prophecy, but she still instinctively felt a sense of unease.

The only thing she was certain of was that the gods were hinting to her that the person might become their enemy or their ally.

Looking at the anxious Karen, Luo Yan smiled slightly and suddenly changed to a relaxed tone.

"It's actually quite simple. Since you have no chance of winning on the battlefield, don't let the outcome depend on the battlefield. Instead, show them another possibility—"

“Even without nobles, you can live very well, even better than before.”

"At that time, even the knights who wield the 'sword of righteousness' will begin to doubt their own righteous mission."

……

After Karen left.

Taff finally stopped pretending to be asleep, stretched her neck, and looked at Luo Yan in surprise: "Are you kidding me? They were still living in the feudal era yesterday. Where are you taking them?"

She never intended to transplant the advanced social system of the Zeta Empire to the Holy Armored Dragon Kingdom to manage those lizardmen. After all, it would simply mean changing the chieftain's title from chieftain to head of state, and the slave's title from slave to employee.

What's the point?
The root of serf society was not a land deed, but the complex social relationships between people and the tacit understandings formed over a long period of time.

However, her perspective was still limited to the laboratory, and she was unaware that there was a gacha game in this universe where the same character could be reskinned and used to make a fortune by having a higher rarity.

Of course, Luo Yan had no interest in money, land, or even so-called power or extraordinary abilities.

All he wants is faith.

That was the source of all power in this world, and he wanted to see what interesting things would happen after he became a god.

Seeing the incredulous look on Taf's face, Luo Yan simply smiled and resumed his meditation.

"That's why you can become a doctor and understand the relationship between supernatural power and the power of faith on your own, but you can never become a true god."

……

The army of justice continues its march toward the northern borders of Lane, and the peasants, after two weeks of training, are about to head to the battlefield of justice... for the land promised by the Grand Duke.

Before the legendary light shone on this forest, the yellow sand from beyond the pass blew here first.

In the easternmost part of Twilight Province, near the Wanren Mountains, lies a desolate border town.

This place was once a trading hub for humans and dwarves to exchange furs and ores, but now only heartbreaking ruins remain, along with starving people wandering among the ruins.

Their eyes were numb, their pupils devoid of any spirit, while the vultures circling in the sky were full of life.

An old man, on his deathbed, leaned against a collapsed wall, about to take his last breath, when he saw a tall figure blocking out the pale afternoon light, and then a kettle was handed to him.

The old man used his last bit of strength to grab the kettle, and without caring who handed it to him, he tilted his head back and gulped it down.

Next, a piece of bread was handed to him, which he ate without hesitation.

Having eaten his fill, he regained some strength and finally managed to make out the imposing figure before him through his half-closed eyes.

It was a man nearly two meters tall, with broad shoulders, carrying a massive sword almost as tall as him on his back. The sword was encased in thick leather, obscuring its appearance, yet it possessed a weight and solidity surpassing even the towering mountains.

The old man had only ever felt something like that on the dwarves' hammers, but those drunkards who buried their noses in their beards hadn't come in a long time; their king didn't want to get involved in human conflicts.

"Young man... you should leave now, this is not a place for you..." the old man warned softly, his voice barely audible, "Don't think I'm trying to scare you... there's no food, go somewhere else..."

He seemed to have forgotten who had given him the bread he had just eaten.

The man didn't pay any attention, and after taking back his water bottle, he said in a low voice.

"What's going on here?"

A hint of fear flickered in the old man's eyes, and his lips trembled as if he wanted to say something, but it was as if he had used up all his strength.

The man waited for a while, and seeing that the old man did not answer, he did not press the matter further.

He left a piece of bread hidden under the poor man's arm, then silently got up and left.

His long robe, shrouded in dust, swept across the desolate streets as he trudged heavily toward the town center.

I vaguely remember there was a church there; perhaps the priests there would know something.

The starving people along the way, upon seeing this uninvited guest, scurried into the shadows like startled rabbits. Some were too weak to move, merely staring at him with numb eyes, unsure whether they were pleading for salvation or hoping the sword would grant them a quick death.

The air in the town was thick with the stench of blood and decay, and corpses pierced by spears were scattered along the roadsides, where vultures feasted on them.

Not just vultures.

In order to survive, they no longer care about anything else.

The further the man went, the heavier his expression became. His face, as resolute as a brass gate, was suppressing a rage that no one else could detect.

He has never been to hell.

But he believed that hell was nothing more than this.

Finally, he found the church he remembered, but he couldn't get inside no matter what he did.

At the entrance of the church, a hill made of skulls and corpses stood out prominently.

Among them were priests, but clearly not only priests; the vast majority were ordinary people with intricate connections to the church, or even just suspected of having connections.

Flies buzzed on their heads, and maggots multiplied on their corpses, as if it were all an offering to an evil spirit.

The man carrying the greatsword stood there for a long time, silently making the sign of the cross on his chest.

“…That’s blasphemous.” He squeezed out the words, his voice devoid of any emotion, yet still trembling slightly.

That wasn't because of fear.

Instead, it was anger.

Even though he was different from most Rhodesians, not a devout believer, and believed more in the sword in his hand than in the lofty gods... he was still human.

These people who take pleasure in killing can clearly no longer be called human beings.

He stepped forward and saw the corpse of a nun whose eyes were still wide open, frozen with the fear of her impending death.

A spear pierced her body, allowing her to stand facing the idol even in death. Her eyes were gouged out, and a head seemed to have been stuffed into her swollen belly... One can imagine the treatment she suffered before her death.

He remembered her name; it seemed to be Lily, a common name in the Kingdom of Ryan, especially among orphans taken in by churches. When he passed through this town on his way to Brass Pass to confront the threat of Chaos, she handed him a glass of water, attempting to convey the truths of the Holy Scriptures and guide him in his confusion.

He even teased her, saying that as a Rhodesian, he knew more about the Book of the Word than the Imperials, and that a mere novice nun was too naive to think she could guide him.

At the time, she was still a little unconvinced, saying that she would definitely study the doctrines hard and that when he passed by here again, she would make him perceive the truth hidden in the holy light.

Unexpectedly, when they met again, her soul had already gone with Saint Sith...

The man remained silent, then reached out his rough, calloused hand and gently closed her eyelids.

Just then, a jet-black aura shot towards his palm like a sharp arrow.

That is the power of chaos!
In order to keep the abundant offerings in a state of decay, and also to prevent the offerings to evil spirits from being devoured by starving people and vultures!

However, that power was still too weak, and it disintegrated into fragments the moment it touched him.

His expression remained unchanged, as if he had merely crushed a blind ant.

The starving people around them had no idea what was going on. They were terrified when they saw that this stranger dared to pray for the priests. They fled in panic.

Even those who are starving and barely clinging to life are no exception.

Not long after, a patrol of soldiers discovered the place.

They wore green turbans on their heads, their fleshy faces beaming with smug pride. They couldn't be more satisfied with this paradise of "wine pools and meat forests," and genuinely believed it was the perfect offering to the whispers of the unseen.

The fact that the gods of joy bestowed upon them victory after victory is the most direct proof of this!
Soon, they spotted the "flies" crawling on the offerings and immediately swarmed around them arrogantly.

"Hey! What are you doing over there!"

The lead soldier pointed his musket at the man carrying the greatsword, a cruel smile on his face. "What? You want to collect the corpses of Saint Sith's lackeys?"

Before the man carrying the greatsword could answer, another soldier with a green turban next to him grinned and said.

"Boss, stop wasting your breath on him! Look at his build, he doesn't look like someone who's starving!"

"Tie him up and interrogate him again!"

Seeing that the man remained silent, the leading soldier gradually sensed something was wrong. He tugged at his headscarf and lowered his voice as if sensing danger.

"What's your name?"

“Gunter Steingraber”.

“Gang… what Bei?” The soldier paused for a moment, feeling that the name sounded familiar, but it was too long to remember.

He glanced at the man again. Although he was dressed simply, the greatsword on his back was no ordinary weapon.

This guy even has a surname!
He might be a fallen nobleman!

As the soldier thought about this, a greedy glint gradually appeared in his eyes, and he licked his dry, cracked lips.

"Oh, he's a nobleman!" He turned around excitedly and waved his hand forward.

"Brothers, let's capture this henchman of Saint Sith! He must have a lot of treasure on him!"

In the continent of Os, nobles have surnames, but not everyone with a surname is a noble.

But these green heads clearly couldn't process such complex information and were simply too lazy to do so.

That's just an excuse to kill.

Killing and looting are what they really want to do.

however--

This time they seem to have picked the wrong target.

The soldier had just turned his head when he found that his head wouldn't stop spinning; it was spinning in the air like a top.

He saw his headless corpse, his brothers torn to pieces, and the man's hand, which had somehow ended up on the hilt of his sword...

When did this guy draw his sword?!

Before he could process the fear in his heart, his soul returned to the embrace of the eternal hunger claws.

As the price, or rather the gift, for his faith in evil spirits, his soul will be eternally reincarnated in the insatiable hive of Urgos, under the name of "The Desirer."

Hunger will accompany his soul until all the stars are extinguished and the universe is in heat death...

Gaunt calmly looked at the mangled corpse, then silently released his grip on the sword hilt and waited quietly in place.

Killing ten people was not enough to vent his anger, and finding them one by one would be too troublesome.

He decided to stand here and fight until the blood flowed like a river, to console the souls of the dead with the blood of the sinners!

……

Unlike the corpses strewn across the small town, the "Butcher" Malachi's military tent was a veritable paradise of wine and meat.

He was one of the twelve leaders of the Green Forest Army and one of the earliest followers of "Green Turban" Kailan.

However, unlike Kailan, who genuinely robbed the rich to help the poor, he simply pocketed the stolen goods.

At this moment, he was shirtless, sitting on the gold and silver treasures he had looted and the haphazardly piled woolen hides, rudely stuffing a piece of roasted, sizzling, oily meat leg into his mouth, and then gulping it down with a mouthful of blood-red wine.

"Hahaha! That's great! That's fucking great!"

Maraki grabbed a beautiful velvet tapestry and wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth, then let out another hearty shout of satisfaction.

That was really exhilarating.

He was once a slave to the death in the dueling arena, but now he has finally made it to the audience, driving those who cheered and enjoyed watching him into the cage of duels.

Of course, he was a person with sophisticated tastes, and obviously could not be satisfied with just spiritual enjoyment.

During this process, he unexpectedly discovered that as long as he pleased the whispering voice from the darkness, he could gain unimaginable power from that void of shadows!
While learning on the job, he gradually figured out a pattern.

Killing people makes you stronger.

Eating people only makes you stronger!

He can become an omnipotent god by letting one group of people eat another group of people!
Upon realizing this, Malachi was as excited as Castellón I upon discovering a new continent.

He also discovered the secret to becoming a god!

Thanks to the ritual taught to him by Urgos, his strength increased rapidly, as if he had sprouted wings. And just recently, he was even more surprised to discover that he had officially broken through the bottleneck of the Diamond level!
Diamonds are a watershed moment.

In his mind, the other leaders of the Green Forest Army were only of gold or even platinum rank, at most able to fight on par with the noble knights, and it would be difficult for them to really gain an advantage.

After realizing how powerful he was, Malachi's confidence swelled to an unprecedented level, and he no longer took even "Green Turban" Kalan seriously.

Although I don't know the current strength of the other leaders, I figure they can't possibly be stronger than me.

After all, "only" he knew the secret to becoming a god.

Just as he was indulging in his pleasure, one of his men scrambled in, his face filled with terror.

"Boss, boss! Something terrible has happened! There's been trouble in Graystone Town. Some guy who came out of nowhere is killing people indiscriminately... Almost all of the thousands of brothers stationed there are dead!"

Malachi paused, then impatiently tossed aside the half-eaten bone. Several women, their faces filthy and chained, pounced on it like wild dogs, scrambling for it.

Only one girl, missing a leg, remained motionless, staring desperately at the bone, as if she had lost her soul.

He picked up a bottle of Campbell wine, took a sip to moisten his throat, and then spoke.

"So what if he died? What's the big deal?"

He didn't expect those peasants carrying muskets to do anything anyway; they were just there to watch over the "altar" for him.

Ok……

Oh, right, the altar is over there.

Suddenly remembering this, Malachi sobered up a bit and glared at the soldier, asking...

"Who did it?"

Enveloped by that fierce aura, the soldier was so frightened he almost wet his pants, and stammered.

"No, I don't know! He was carrying a greatsword, all alone, and looked like a fallen nobleman, but maybe he was a knight..."

"snore?"

Malachi snorted, a glint of excitement flashing in his eyes, like a beast that had discovered new prey.

A knight who can single-handedly hold off a thousand men must be at least a Gold-level knight, or even possibly a Platinum-level knight!

Having just broken through to the Diamond level, he was worried about having no one to test his skills, but unexpectedly, someone came knocking on his door so quickly.

"Looks like a decent guy has arrived. I've had my fill, so I might as well go and meet him."

He stood up, picked up a bloodstained scimitar from the weapon rack, and walked out of the tent with a sinister grin.

Facing the bustling camp, he roared at the top of his lungs, his voice booming like muffled thunder.

"My personal guards! Stop eating and get over here! Time to work!"

Soon, thousands of soldiers gathered in front of him.

Their muscles were bulging, and their eyes gleamed with ferocity, like bloodthirsty hounds.

The rituals of chaos do not only affect Malachi himself, but can also be used to enhance his subordinates.

Each of them possesses power no less than that of bronze!

That's the threshold for lower-level superhumans; even seasoned adventurers who frequently venture into dungeons are probably only at this level.

"set off!"

With a wave of his hand, Malachi led a large crowd toward Graystone Town, ten kilometers away.

At the same time, Gaunt, standing amidst the mountain of corpses and sea of ​​bones, finally showed a slight change in his indifferent expression.

"coming……"

The lackey who sold his soul to Chaos has finally shown himself; let's see what kind of thing he is.

However, he was soon disappointed.

That aura was at most that of diamonds.

Moreover, it was obvious that the person did not deliberately conceal his aura; on the contrary, he seemed to want to spread his scent as far as possible, as if afraid that others would not know his strength.

too weak……

Is this really a "desireer"?

According to the Great Sage, Urgos, the Claw of Eternal Hunger, is not an easy opponent.

He preferred to believe that the true chosen one was someone else, rather than this ugly and weak thing.

The fat ant finally crawled up to him, accompanied by its man-eating minions.

Malachi swaggered to the front of the group, dragging his scimitar on the ground with a hissing sound, and instilled fear in the silent swordsman with a cruel grin.

However, just as he took a step forward, a bead of cold sweat suddenly slid down the corner of his grinning mouth.

The fear from the depths of his soul, like the claws of a ghoul, gripped his heart tightly.

what's the situation? !

That feeling... was as if Saint Sith himself was standing right in front of him.

The man didn't say a word, but the uncontrollable anger in his eyes flashed for a moment, making his blood seem to freeze and his legs feel like lead.

A bloodthirsty declaration, brewing all the way, stuck in his chest. He had intended to describe in detail how he had slaughtered the church, but for a moment he forgot how to organize his thoughts.

Looking at the wild boar in front of him, its mouth agape but unable to utter a word, Gaunt slowly spoke, his calm voice reaching everyone's ears.

"Draw your sword."

He didn't want to know the man's name, nor was he interested in his motives for killing him.

Only the gods can see all the causes and effects; their only responsibility is to send them to see the gods.

Malachi's forehead was covered in sweat, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.

The ignorant and fearless soldiers behind him, however, were completely oblivious to the overwhelming pressure emanating from the Sword Saint, and continued to shout excitedly.

"Crush his head!"

"Kick his head off!"

"Wait, leave him his head. I think that guy can fit another one inside him!"

Overwhelmed by fear, Malachi finally abandoned his dignity as a strongman, ripped open his glued throat, and cunningly roared.

"Brothers, get him! Chop him to pieces!"

A thousand ordinary people might not be able to stop this guy, but the guards he brought with him are no ordinary people!

Although the soldiers were surprised that their leader would give up this opportunity to show off, the word "brothers" did ignite their passion.

They drew their swords and let out bloodthirsty howls, charging forward like ghosts from hell, just as they had charged towards the church that had surrendered.

Looking at the charging soldiers and the bandit leader trying to hide behind the crowd, Gaunt's lips curled into a cold, mocking smile.

"coward."

what's the point?
He didn't draw his sword, but simply moved his foot slightly.

The sky turned a grayish-red, and the earth became the withered yellow of the region beyond the Great Wall.

This is the "domain" he comprehended while fighting the ogres in the brass. Although he is still far from being an omnipotent god, he has already been able to use the sword in his hand to create a world that belongs to him and become the god of this world.

He never imagined he would use this tactic against his own kind, but... these people could no longer be called human.

Even the ogres in the dimensional desert are more human-like than them.

Seeing the town suddenly disappear and the yellow sand that replaced it, the soldiers who had been so arrogant and domineering were thrown into a panic.

They finally realized why their leader hadn't rushed forward but instead left the opportunity to them.

"what happened?"

"This...magic?!"

They couldn't comprehend the power of demigods and could only try to explain it using magic or illusion.

Maraki, gripping his scimitar, was utterly desperate. The moment the domain was formed, he felt as if the voice in the darkness had vanished, disappearing into the unseen void.

Their connection was lost!

Whether it was interrupted or not was no longer important; even Chaos could not save him from the clutches of a demigod.

"Don't be a human in your next life."

That was the last thing Malachi heard.

Until the very end, he lacked the courage to grip his weapon and fight back. Like a pig awaiting slaughter, he was cleaved in two by the sword energy that seemed to sever space, and then torn into pieces even finer than flesh by an invisible force...

The battle ended before it even began.

As the domain dissipated, only Gaunt remained in the square in front of the church. The swaggering soldiers seemed to have vanished without a trace, not even their corpses were left behind.

He glanced back at the blood-stained cross, nodded slightly, then unfurled a magic scroll, set it ablaze, and burned the mangled pile of corpses to ashes.

After finishing everything, Gunter looked back and saw the starving people hiding in the shadows staring at him in fear.

A flicker of pity crossed his cold eyes as he spoke in a hoarse voice.

"It's over. You are free."

The square was silent; only silence answered him.

Gunter didn't know what to say, so he sighed and headed towards the town's exit.

He knew the scar would probably take a long time to heal, but it seemed all he could do was cut off the rotting flesh to prevent everyone from being swallowed up.

At that moment, his eyes flickered slightly, and he suddenly noticed a familiar corpse hidden in the corner.

That was the old man he met when he first arrived in this small town.

A disheveled boy was sobbing beside the old man; he seemed to be a relative of the old man.

Gunter noticed that the bread the old man had been tucking under his arm was gone, but it was clear that the boy hadn't eaten it.

Perhaps the old man wanted to save the bread for his grandson, but the moment he was seen, the bread no longer belonged to them.

Gunter clenched his fists and said in a deep voice.

"Who did it?"

The boy looked at him in fear, slowly raised his hand, and pointed his trembling index finger into the alleyway beside him.

A group of hungry people huddled there, looking at this side with fear in their eyes. Some repented for their sins, while others regretted not strangling the boy as well.

Obviously, the bread wasn't eaten by one person.

Looking at the hungry people, Gunter suddenly thought of Graystone Town and its warm-hearted, carefree people.

They are very similar to dwarves, especially in their generous nature and their prodigious capacity for alcohol. However, unlike dwarves, they are not vengeful; they are a group of very kind people.

They are clearly the same group of people...

Gunter unconsciously loosened his clenched fist and looked at the thin child, saying in a low voice.

"What's your name?"

“Eurien…”

"Eurien, would you like to learn swordsmanship?"

The boy didn't understand anything, but he nodded anyway, because he felt he couldn't survive here.

Those people have already eaten his grandfather, and they'll eat him sooner or later.

A rare smile appeared on Gunter's expressionless face as he reached out his rough, large hand and ruffled his messy hair.

"Follow me."

(End of this chapter)