A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

The fact that He could utter the title "the hunter of demigods" proves that He had some self-awareness.

“Leave here…” Migkaf repeated, then his figure gradually disappeared into the background.

“What if I don’t?” Bray asked.

Yeah, what if he doesn't?

“Then…” Migkaf’s voice echoed in Bray’s ears, layered and overlapping.

Migkaf's invisibility is not about making himself unseen in the conventional sense, but rather about "blending" into the background.

Since it has become integrated into its surroundings, it also means that it is normally impossible to have contact with it.

It's not just a visual deception; the moment you blend into the background, other people's attacks may not even be able to land.

It's not magic, but an innate ability. Although it can't compare to a concept, it's still quite incomprehensible.

No wonder Bray didn't notice the presence of Silver Seeds outside when he first came to this safe zone.

This state is truly impossible to find without using keen observation skills.

Bray charged suddenly toward a certain spot and then swung his sword sideways.

The broad blade struck what should have been air.

However, the feel of the blade proved that Bray wasn't cutting thin air.

“Inferior species—” Accompanied by a sharp insect chirp, Migkaf’s figure was forcibly forced out.

Although the tone of voice, due to the characteristics of insect chirping, was completely flat.

But the fact that He did not use the term "hunter of demigods" but instead referred to Bray as a lower species is enough to prove that He was angry.

However, He remained rational, knowing that He could not defeat this inferior being who could fight against a demigod.

Besides, his own ideas were suppressed, and he couldn't do anything about Bray.

He chose to disappear once more, about to leave Bray's sight.

This kind of invisibility is not magic, divine power, or even a concept; even Bray has no good way to stop it.

But if we let this silver seed go this time, it will be very difficult to find it again next time.

Since he's been called "the hunter of demigods" by a group of demigods, he should at least act like a hunter.

"Come back!" Bray gripped his broadsword with both hands, his eyes sharpening.

"Onis Sword Technique" "Beast Transformation Slash"

The black blade flicked upwards, drawing an arc as it vibrated with a sound like a beast's roar.

This simple and brutal sword strike drew Migkaf, who was about to escape, out of the background colors.

“You…you’re issuing…a challenge—” Migkaf, who had been easily defeated once again, said in a broken voice.

"I am challenging you now."

“I’ll wait for you to show up, and then I’ll stand before you.” As Bray finished his attack, his right eye fixed on Migkaf with a deathly gaze.

"You will be hunted by endless demigods, you will never have peace," Migkaf, with part of his foot severed, warned Bray with difficulty.

When it was pulled away by that sword, it also had countless feet cut off.

However, those wounds quickly began to heal on their own, and tender little feet began to grow.

“You yourself, your descendants, and all the lives around you will suffer because of your recklessness,” Migkaf said, sweeping his body across the spot where he was lying.

His body stretched continuously as he was thrown out, and the attack covered an extremely terrifying area.

Generally speaking, there are no other ways to avoid this except to get out of the situation.

However, given that the other side clearly has a backup plan, jumping out would make you a sitting duck.

So just block it.

"Thump!" The sound of a craftsman striking a blacksmith's hammer on an anvil rang out.

The echo lingered for a long time on the open ground.

This powerful and heavy sweeping attack was actually blocked by the disproportionately small human with just two swords.

How exactly was it blocked? Is that even possible?

But this scene did indeed happen.

"When the nest is overturned, no egg remains unbroken," Bray said abruptly.

"What--"

“It’s nothing, just a proverb from the Eastern Continent,” Bray replied casually.

"Those people you mentioned will be fine before I die, so you don't need to worry about them."

“You—” Migkaf didn’t understand; he didn’t understand what Bray was saying.

What logic is there between the preceding and following statements? He cannot understand it.

He naturally couldn't understand, since He didn't know what the human in front of Him was thinking.

"I have altered the memories of many people in this place."

"If I hadn't restored their erased memories, they would have lived their whole lives in a daze."

“Without my concept, these inferior species are beyond saving.” Migkaf’s chirping intensified slightly, and his anxiety could be barely discerned.

But Bray's sword did not stop.

A jet-black sword drew ever closer to Migkaf.

The being known as the "Forgotten Dragon" felt, at this very moment, in this instant, in this very place, that it was about to be slain.

Don't you care about your own kind?

"Do you know why I'm wielding this sword right now?" a question was posed, and at the same time, a sword landed on Migkaf's armor.

The blade slowly crushed the armor, making a crackling sound.

Migkaf could not only hear this sound from the outside, but he could also feel it inside his body.

He attempted to use his innate abilities to blend into the landscape once again.

The moment Migkaf used his ability, the feel of the sword blade gradually weakened.

Bray felt increasingly less like he had actually hit something.

If nothing is done and things continue like this, Migkaf will surely be able to dodge this sword.

But Bray remained unmoved; he had long anticipated that the other party would struggle at the last moment.

Regardless, the Silver Race is also a living being and doesn't want to die easily either.

Like humans, they are also afraid of death.

“Because I want the weather to always be nice,” Bray answered his own question.

No sooner had he finished speaking than a long sword was swung out and embedded in Migkaf's head.

A sharp insect chirping sound rang out, His body twisted violently, and He stopped using His power.

After Migkaf returned to physical form, the broadsword retained its original power, pressing down inch by inch.

Bray had anticipated that many people in the safe zone had their memories erased.

But what is deleted is deleted. Even if Migkaf says he can add memories to those people, they are nothing more than illusory memories.

Just like the memories that are interspersed in countless times and spaces in one's mind, they are not one's own.

No matter how realistic it is, fake is fake.

Counterfeits and genuine products are fundamentally different.

Of course, even if it's fake, many people might still be willing to try to recover those memories.

Perhaps those memories are incredibly precious, even if they are fake, they still make people want to hold onto them.

This sword strike could cause many people harmed by Migkaf to live a life of confusion and uncertainty, perhaps never escaping the dread of amnesia.

Unfortunately, Bray's sword will not stop.

Bray wasn't great enough to consider everyone; he wasn't a saint or a savior.

So don't expect him to make any perfect choices.

If you want an ending or story that satisfies everyone, then create it yourself.

Anyway, Bray can't do it.

He can only prevent the next tragedy from happening, but he can never save or change the existing tragedy.

For him, there's no point in dwelling on things he can't do.

His last concerns may have long since disappeared.

Once, the cool breeze and leisurely life made him gradually forget the reason for using a sword.

Now, the cool breeze and leisurely life have all disappeared.

He's not the kind of guy who cares about the world.

and so--

"Break it off!"

Migkaf's body was cleaved open by a heavy sword strike, splattering filthy blood everywhere.

Anything splattered with blood becomes invisible for a brief moment.

"You're declaring war on us—"

"You lowly race, you will be torn to pieces by us, you will be tortured—"

The split Migkaf wanted to heal its wounds, but was shocked to find that it couldn't.

If severed feet can regrow, why can't the severed body be pieced back together now?

“You, who disregard the lives of your own kind, will be cursed,” Migkaf said in a weak voice.

His mutilated body could only move erratically on the ground, trying to escape from Bray's sight.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Bray said.

"And speaking of curses, I reckon I've been cursed for a long time."

He has already acknowledged that the identity of a person who observes the precepts is a curse, so he remains remarkably calm when others say they want to curse him.

Although, to this day he still doesn't know where his ring is.

Since others have emphasized it like that, he'll just assume he's a person who observes the precepts.

Bray didn't immediately take the sword strike. Instead, he looked down at the gruesome sight of Migkaf and took a deep breath.

Bray's action led Migkaf to mistakenly believe that the other party intended to stop.

"It's too late. Everyone in the 'Alliance of the Gods' will know of your hostility."

“The ‘Hunter of Demigods’ will be hunted.” Migkaf dragged his half-body along, his outer shell beginning to change color.

"Hoo—" Bray exhaled a second breath of stale air.

Unfortunately, he was neither convinced by Migkaf's words nor afraid.

It's just about focusing your attention.

"Clang!" A short, crisp sound rang out, and a white line swept past.

After the white line disappeared, Bray somehow appeared near Migkaf's head.

Bray pulled the longsword from His head and then shook off the filthy blood.

Migkaf's life was cut short before the longsword was fully sheathed.

Without even a fierce battle, Migkaf was killed.

Although Migkaf is not a skilled fighter, he is the type who hides and controls memories.

But it's truly baffling that the Silver Seed was killed so easily.

Anyone who accomplished such a feat would surely raise their arms in triumph, feeling immense pride in their achievement.