Chapter 129

A man cloaked in a black hood, his figure concealed as much as possible. However, the tattered state of that black hood—ragged and torn—made him look far from an ordinary human.

The moment I laid eyes on this man, I could roughly piece together who he was.

The identity of this man…

“The Dragon Priestess… you haven’t changed a bit, I see. So, are you the Hero?”

“Yes, but might I ask who you are?”

But the Hero, casually peeling fruit with a small dagger, hadn’t caught onto his true identity yet.

Well, it’s only natural. In the Hero’s life spanning several decades, their encounter had lasted merely a day, and even that had vanished in the blink of an eye.

If he remembered, that would be the real miracle.

With no further ado, the man silently unsheathed the sword hanging at his waist.

A metallic blade glowing with a deep reddish hue—a sword unlike any ordinary one.

Holding this peculiar blade, the man aimed it at the Hero, who let out a small mutter.

“Why are these youngsters today so rude? Drawing swords without even exchanging words… Tch tch.”

As if spouting clichés like a stereotypical old-timer. The Hero’s words fell on deaf ears as the hooded man lunged forward, sword in hand.

“Ever since retiring, why do so many people keep lusting after the title of Hero? It’s such a hassle. Aren’t you thinking about picking a new Hero anytime soon?”

“As long as you’re alive, that won’t happen. Don’t worry about it.”

“It wasn’t really something I was worried about…”

The Hero calmly continued the conversation while effortlessly sidestepping and deflecting the incoming blade with light steps.

“You’re fast, I’ll give you that. Threatening too.”

Though his body may have weakened with age, the Hero’s mastery of swordsmanship remained unparalleled—an art transcending mere technique.

While parrying the crimson blade with the small knife used for peeling fruit, the Hero calmly assessed the man’s attacks.

“But your movements are too predictable. Thanks to that, dodging isn’t difficult. Against someone with similar speed, you wouldn’t pose much of a threat.”

“Hmph! Die!”

The man unleashed a flurry of strikes, trying to overwhelm the Hero. But with a simple flick of the peeling knife, the Hero disrupted the flow of the attack, twisting the man’s blade path entirely.

Using minimal effort, the Hero nullified what should’ve been a powerful assault—truly the mark of a master swordsman.

Despite relentless pressure from the man, the Hero skillfully deflected every strike with the small knife.

After dozens of exchanges…

“Well then, that’s enough for today. You were the strongest opponent I’ve faced recently.”

“Graaahh…”

The man’s wrist was slashed by the Hero’s small blade, causing his sword to clatter to the ground.

Your swordplay doesn’t seem systematically trained, more like a mercenary somewhere. A survival-based style ingrained into your body… though strangely static in its foundation. Hm, did you just learn the basics?”

The Hero lightly wiped the blade clean before cleaning it with his sleeve.

“Oops. I was told not to use this in combat, or I’d get scolded again. Sister, can you keep this a secret?”

“You need some discipline, huh?”

These days, the Hero rarely touched their main sword outside of practice—even though it was said to be too powerful for opponents, a Hero without their sword still felt odd, didn’t it?

And then…

“Graaaahhh!”

As the wounded man groaned, the tip of his crimson blade transformed and shot toward the Hero like liquid metal—like mercury but crimson.

So, is that what this thing truly is?

This newly reshaped, razor-thin blade darted toward the Hero’s back.

“Oof.”

With a casual sidestep, the Hero swung the peeling knife, perfectly countering the ambush from behind.

“Fancy tricks, aren’t they? The world sure is vast.”

“Freak, monster…!”

“Monster? Nah, just the fruits of diligent training.”

Ordinary humans couldn’t block a blade flying from behind with just a small knife—but this Hero had sharpened their senses to near-supernatural levels through rigorous training.

“I’ve traveled the world and done many things, but I’ve never endangered anyone’s life.”

Worthy of praise, yes, but certainly not worthy of being targeted.

However, this guy was different.

“Alright, that’s enough.”

I approached the man in the black hood.

His previously slashed wrist had already healed—a recovery beyond human capability.

And there was also the reaction to the tracking marking.

“It’s been a while.”

I pulled back the hood to reveal the hidden face beneath.

“The prince who brought down an entire nation.”

Unlike decades ago, his once noble features were now overgrown with scruffy facial hair, disheveled and unkempt.

I looked down at the pitiful man and spoke.

“So, what nerve do you have showing up here? You were once the second prince of the Arcad Empire.”

“…”

But he said nothing.

Had he come here seeking forgiveness, I would’ve suggested visiting the Temple of Life to sincerely repent for his sins. Why approach the Hero with a blade instead? With a blade?

Not to mention, the Hero was already complaining about back pain, adding to my worries. Sigh.

And what’s more, he wields such an unusual sword. How did he even create something like that?

I picked up the sword lying at my feet.

At first glance, it seemed like an ordinary blade, but its edge held something peculiar—it wasn’t naturally red; rather, something covered the blade, giving it that hue.

“Hmm. Looks like you’ve learned some interesting tricks.”

The covering turned out to be blood—blood perfectly controlled through vitality.

Even knowing he’d gone through hardships, creating something like this was impressive.

With a strained voice, the man shouted, “Kill me!”

That line belongs to beautiful imprisoned knights, not ragged, disheveled men like him.

After inspecting the sword thoroughly, I tossed it back to him.

“That wasn’t my question. What reason could you possibly have for coming here?”

I looked down at the man slumped on the floor. His body must’ve already recovered, yet he made no move.

“…Give it.”

“Kill me…”

In a voice filled with resentment, he muttered lowly.

“Kill? Me?”

“Yes… If anyone could kill me, it would be you, the one standing in place of the goddess who cursed me…”

He glared up at me, his bloodshot eyes leaking tears.

“I no longer wish to live. End my suffering. Grant me the peace of death…”

To which I responded curtly.

“Why should I?”

“Ughhh… Why won’t you just kill me?! Please! I don’t want to endure this pain anymore! I can’t bear watching others die while I remain alive!!! Give me the tranquility of death!!!”

Hmm. Tranquility in death, huh.

True, his life has been tormented by various gods, making existence itself worse than death. Given the spread of his misdeeds among the gods, he’s endured countless curses, rendering normal living impossible. Without the curse of immortality, he’d have died hundreds, thousands of times over.

But…

“Repentance and asking for forgiveness will bring you no peace.”

I mean, I’ve already told him all the ways to lift the curse. Why is he still here?

Had he gone to the Temple of Life and prayed earnestly, the curse would’ve been lifted long ago.

Wait. Could he have forgotten the solution? Does he not remember?

Eh? Come on. I’ve been repeating it from the start. Unless he ignored everything I said…

“Even if it comes to this?”

The man picked up the sword before him and pointed it at my neck.

The vitality-bound crimson blade now reversed its purpose to take life. More fascinating than ever.

“Break the curse now. Otherwise, I’ll kill you.”

“Hooh?”

Now he’s threatening me? Really pushing it, aren’t we?

Do you think I’d lift the curse just because of threats? No way! Extraordinarily unorthodox methods won’t work!

“If you can, try!”

“Sister!”

The Hero exclaimed in shock. Why so surprised? This little blade isn’t worth panicking over.

You know exactly who I am, so there’s no need to worry, right?

“Over there! Your daughter’s bringing her good-for-nothing husband and grandchildren! Hurry up and finish this!”

Of course, I knew this would happen. Worrying about me is absurd.

Still, I can’t inconvenience the Hero’s family.

“Kneel.”

In a low voice, I commanded.

“Aaaaagh!”

In an instant, the man collapsed to the ground.