Chapter 1: A Gifted Misfit
I had a talent.
“You’ve truly lost your mind! Causing a scene at a tavern and getting thrown out? Do you have any idea how much disgrace you’ve brought upon our family name?”
I had a knack for tarnishing the family honor.
My father spent sleepless nights cleaning up the messes I left behind.
“Brother! Why on earth did you strike the young lord of the Ryanbloom Marquisate? Our sister had to marry that scoundrel to smooth things over!”
I had a talent for ruining my family’s future.
To escape the wrath of the Ryanbloom family, my sister was forced into a marriage she never wanted.
“Damian… why did you mortgage our land for a loan? And from a duke’s business, no less. This time, even I can’t help you.”
I had a talent for squandering the family fortune.
The modest wealth of the Haxen Viscounty vanished in my hands.
“Leave.”
In the end, my father could no longer bear it and cast me out.
Even my mother, who usually defended me, remained silent this time.
My younger brother was delighted, saying it should have happened sooner.
“Damian… at least take this money.”
Only my sister worried about me.
Despite losing her beloved fiancé and having her life turned upside down because of me, she still cared.
“Please, find happiness.”
That day, for the first time, I understood what guilt and shame felt like.
I fled the family estate as if running for my life.
After being cast out, I wandered aimlessly.
A fool who had leeched off his family all his life had no special skills to rely on.
The money I had quickly disappeared. To avoid starving, I had to do whatever it took.
Begging became routine, and fights broke out almost daily.
“Well, well, the young lord of a viscount’s family, huh? Your arrogance is sky-high.”
“Are you itching to die? Should I grant your wish?”
And surprisingly, I discovered a new talent.
“My arm… my arm…!”
“Someone, please… my leg won’t move!”
“Please, spare me just this once!”
I had a talent for swordsmanship.
When I took down more than ten thugs with a rusty dagger I found in an alley, I finally realized my gift.
During my time with the family, I had been too indulgent and lazy to ever pick up a sword.
So I never knew I had such a talent.
“What? You want to become a mercenary? With that frail body of yours?”
”…Huh, despite appearances, your sword skills are uncanny.”
“With skills like yours, you won’t die easily. Welcome to our mercenary band.”
Working as a mercenary, I learned just how extraordinary my talent was.
I quickly mastered any sword technique. Not just swords, but I handled other weapons with ease too.
“I never thought you’d actually defeat a knight!”
“If it weren’t for you, we’d all be dead!”
“Brother! From now on, I’ll follow you anywhere!”
I quickly became the ace of the mercenary band.
No enemy was too frightening. Even knights were no match for me.
It wasn’t long before I realized my talent had no limits.
In a rather unwelcome way.
“Fresh corpses walking right into my lair!”
On a mission I took without much thought, our mercenary band encountered a lich.
A lich.
A dark sorcerer who turned themselves into an undead to escape death.
Only the highest-ranking dark sorcerers could become liches, and their power was said to surpass their living selves.
The lich we faced was no ordinary lich.
It was an archlich, the pinnacle of liches.
Our mercenary band was rendered powerless by the archlich’s dark magic.
I was no exception.
“Oh? What a surprise. A human with such immense talent. Even my magic eye can’t gauge its limits!”
The archlich showered me with praise and admiration.
“But your talent’s development is pitifully lacking. With such talent, you could easily reach mastery with just a little practice.”
The archlich clapped its bony hands together, making a hard, clattering sound.
“Oh, I see now. Your soul’s light is weak, wasted by your innate laziness!”
The archlich had me pegged perfectly.
“Such a waste. But don’t worry. From now on, I’ll help your talent bloom.”
What followed was a hellish time.
The archlich subjected me to unspeakable horrors.
I was injected with dozens of potions.
My organs were replaced with those of other creatures, and all sorts of magical devices were implanted.
After ten years, I was no longer human.
“Finally, it’s complete!”
A death knight.
The highest form of undead, created only when a dark sorcerer corrupts a knight’s soul.
The archlich poured all its knowledge and resources into making me a death knight.
I wasn’t pleased with the situation, but I couldn’t express my discontent.
During the transformation into a death knight, the archlich completely erased my will.
It was to make me a loyal slave.
Yet, for some reason, my consciousness wasn’t entirely extinguished.
I just couldn’t control my body. It felt like being trapped inside myself.
“Now, let’s show the world your power.”
As soon as I was complete, the archlich waged war against humanity.
Amazingly, in my first battle, I slaughtered over a thousand soldiers alone.
It was the result of the death knight’s powerful body, the immense dark magic forcibly infused into me, and my talent.
“Humans die like insects!”
The archlich delightedly sent me into more battles.
I slashed, and slashed, and slashed again.
The more I fought, the more my talent grew.
At some point, I could perfectly understand and mimic others’ sword techniques after seeing them just once.
Eventually, I reached a level beyond imitation, into creation.
I combined all the sword techniques I had learned into a new style.
From then on, I had no equal.
Countless knights fell by my hand.
Among them were the King of Mercenaries, the Sword Saint, and the Empire’s Greatest Sword.
No one could stop me.
Not even myself.
“Damian! Why are you with the archlich? What is that form?”
Even when I drove a sword through my father’s heart on the battlefield.
“Brother! Why are you doing this? Stop! Please, stop!”
Even when I beheaded my younger brother.
“You’re alive? But that form…”
Even when I burned down the family estate and killed my mother.
“Damian… you must not have been happy.”
When I attacked the Ryanbloom Marquisate, I could only watch as skeletal soldiers slaughtered my sister.
“How did it feel to kill the family that cast you out? I prepared it especially for you.”
After killing my entire family and returning, the archlich spoke to me.
He had known everything and ordered me to attack the Haxen Viscounty and the Ryanbloom Marquisate.
“Of course, you probably felt nothing. But I enjoyed it immensely. It was quite the spectacle.”
Never had I hated the archlich more than at that moment.
Never had I resented my talent more.
Yet, I continued to fight for the archlich.
And eventually, I succeeded in bringing down every kingdom, just as he wished.
“Finally! The whole world kneels before me!”
On the day the empire, which had held out stubbornly, finally fell, the archlich praised me greatly.
“It’s all thanks to you! Without you, this day wouldn’t have come. No, since I found you, the greatest credit goes to me. Hahaha!”
Indeed.
Only the archlich had recognized my talent so precisely.
And so, the world faced the disaster that was me.
But even the archlich couldn’t foresee one thing.
My talent had already surpassed his calculations.
To the point where I could reclaim control of the body he had stolen.
On the day of the victory celebration.
My mind returned.
It was a scene straight out of hell.
The walls had crumbled. Buildings lay in ruins, engulfed in flames.
Massacres were happening in the streets.
“Aaaah!”
“Run! Don’t let them catch you!”
The ones being slaughtered were humans.
The blood of the people who once lived in this city was being spilled.
The ones doing the slaughtering were not human.
Half-decayed zombies, flesh-melded meat golems, skeletal bone ogres.
Countless undead were killing humans.
“Please, spare my son!”
“Mom! Mooooom!”
The undead, devoid of reason, showed no mercy.
People were brutally butchered.
“Hahaha, ahahahaha!”
Amidst the chaos, someone burst into laughter.
A man wearing an incongruously luxurious fur coat.
Or was it even a man?
With only bones remaining, it was impossible to tell the gender.
“Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful! Just as I hoped!”
The skull clattered its jaw, laughing incessantly.
With only a skeleton left, it was impossible to read its expression.
But anyone could see the skull was overjoyed.
“In the old tales, they say the longer you wait for revenge, the sweeter it is. Can you imagine the joy I feel now, finally fulfilling a vow I made 500 years ago?”
No answer came.
Akrich Dorgo turned, asking again, “Why the silence? I asked you a question.”
Before him, skeletal soldiers held a middle-aged man captive. His hair was a bright yellow, like a ripe pumpkin, and his beard flowed down to his chest. This was Howard Adelite, Emperor of the Empire.
Held by the skeletal soldiers, Howard shouted at Dorgo, “You wretch! How dare you slaughter my people! You’re a filthy demon who deserves to rot in hell!”
The emperor’s curses meant nothing to Dorgo now. If anything, they were sweet to his ears. Savoring the emperor’s fury, Dorgo spoke, “Are you done? Then shall we proceed with the coronation?”
“What nonsense is this? A coronation for the likes of you?”
“Of course, it’s my coronation. I’ve achieved what no one else has—unified the continent. Surely, that merits the title of Emperor.”
Dorgo laughed, and the emperor shut his eyes tight. How far would this undead go to mock humanity?
“Bring the crown,” Dorgo commanded.
From among the undead army, a figure in black armor stepped forward. The emperor’s face hardened at the sight.
It was Death Knight Damian Haxen. Countless knights had fallen to him, and hundreds of thousands of soldiers had been massacred. Dorgo’s conquest of the continent was possible only because of this Death Knight.
“O, my most loyal knight,” Dorgo gazed at him with affection. “Thanks to you, I stand here today. How can I ever repay such a debt?”
The Death Knight stood silently, holding the crown. Dorgo chuckled at the sight. “A foolish question. You are my servant. Serving me is your greatest joy.”
As Dorgo’s laughter grew louder, the Death Knight suddenly hurled the crown behind him. Dorgo’s laughter stopped abruptly.
“What? I never gave such an order…”
The Death Knight gripped the greatsword on his back, stepping forward and swinging it in one fluid motion. Dorgo instinctively cast a dark spell, erecting a black barrier before him. But the Death Knight’s strike tore through it effortlessly, slicing Dorgo in half.
“How… how is this possible?”
The Death Knight removed his helmet, revealing a youthful face. It was unmistakably human, though his skin was ashen from his transformation.
“Finally… I can move of my own will.”
Hearing the voice from that face, Dorgo was even more bewildered. “How are you speaking? I erased your consciousness completely!”
“It only seemed that way. I never truly disappeared. I watched everything from within.”
Damian Haxen, no longer just a Death Knight, lifted Dorgo’s severed torso. His face was emotionless, but his eyes burned with hatred and anger. Recognizing this, Dorgo smiled.
“Oh… you seem quite angry. I understand. I’d feel the same.”
Even in this perilous moment, Dorgo remained calm. As a lich, he had stored his soul in a phylactery. Unless it was destroyed, he couldn’t die. Dorgo, an archlich, was no different.
“In honor of your service, I’ll allow you this moment of rage. Until I find a way to control you again.”
Dorgo had prepared several spare bodies. Once his current form was destroyed, he planned to transfer his consciousness to a new one and regain control over Damian Haxen.
“Go on, then. Smash me to dust, curse me all you want… Ugh!”
Suddenly, Dorgo vomited black magic. It wasn’t just from his mouth; dark energy erupted from his entire body. The dark magic and soul stored in the phylactery were flowing out uncontrollably.
“This… this can’t be… Ugh!”
The phylactery was intact, yet Dorgo was dying in real-time. It was incomprehensible.
“I spent years pondering how to kill you.”
A lich cannot die unless their phylactery is destroyed. But under Dorgo’s control, finding it was impossible.
“I developed a sword technique that severs even the soul, just to kill you.”
“Such a technique can’t exist…”
“Why do you think that?”
Damian Haxen tightened his grip on Dorgo’s neck. “Have you forgotten who I am? Didn’t you always boast about me? Your greatest masterpiece, you called me!”
Damian Haxen had devoured countless powerful foes, his talent reaching divine levels. With a sword, he could achieve anything. The word “impossible” didn’t apply to him.
“Stop him! Stop him now!” Dorgo, panicked, commanded his undead army.
Skeletons and golems charged at Damian Haxen. With a mighty swing of his greatsword, a dark aura surged like a tidal wave, engulfing the undead army. The black wave crushed and tore them apart. The undead were swept away without a chance to resist.
“No… this can’t be…”
Dorgo was speechless at the absurd sight. Now that he was the enemy, he felt the full weight of it. The Death Knight he had created was a monster beyond measure.
No more dark magic seeped from Dorgo’s body. He could feel it—death was near.
“Spare me… please…”
Damian Haxen twisted his lips into a smirk. “Go to hell.”
The light in Dorgo’s skull vanished. His soul was utterly destroyed. Damian Haxen tossed Dorgo’s skull to the ground and crushed it to dust.
Outside the palace, the remaining undead began to wail.
With their master gone, they were running amok.
“Silence.”
Damian Haxen spread his dark magic, regaining control over the undead. The army fell silent in an instant.
During the prolonged war, Dorgo had infused Damian Haxen with knowledge of dark magic. As a result, Damian Haxen was the most skilled dark magician in the army, second only to Dorgo.
“Self-destruct.”
At Damian Haxen’s command, the army began to destroy itself. In moments, the hundreds of thousands of undead vanished completely.
“Who… who are you?” The emperor looked at Damian Haxen in shock.
But Damian Haxen had no interest in him. “It’s finally over.”
He sank to the ground. Despite being undead, a deep fatigue washed over him.
“No, it’s not over yet.”
Damian Haxen reversed his grip on the sword, pressing the tip to his chest. Beneath his skin lay the power source that kept him functioning as a Death Knight. Destroying it would grant him true death.
“I still have something to do.”
Faces of his family came to mind. None were smiling. He had always angered them.
“I need to apologize. To say I’m sorry.”
Without hesitation, Damian Haxen drove the sword into his chest. There was no pain, only a deep darkness that enveloped his vision.
And then…
“Damian?”
A voice called out from the darkness.
“Damian, why are you sleeping here? Wake up.”
It was the voice of his beloved sister, the one he had longed to hear. He was grateful to meet her before descending into hell.
“Father’s looking for you. He’s quite upset. What did you do this time?”
Of course, his father was angry too. He needed to see him, confess all his sins, and beg for forgiveness.
Resolute, Damian Haxen opened his eyes. Sunlight streamed down, and he saw his sister’s face.
”…What?”
She looked much younger than the last time he had seen her.
Damian, bewildered, asked, “Sister, why do you look so young?”
“Oh, flattery now? I see, you want me to take your side when Father scolds you.”
She laughed, a sound he hadn’t heard in so long. Damian could only stare in a daze.
“Alright, trust your big sister. Now fix your clothes and come quickly, okay?”
She walked ahead, towards the Haxen estate.
“I thought I destroyed that place with my own hands…”
Damian looked down at himself. Unlike his Death Knight form, his skin was now a healthy, pale color.
“What… what happened to me?”
It took him a while to realize: he had returned to the past.