Episode 80: The Uninvited Guest (1)
The journey back was just as long and arduous as the one to get there.
But before that, there was something Damian had to take care of—he couldn’t just leave Erebus as it was.
On his way, he decided to stop by a blacksmith in the city to see if he could find a suitable staff for his weapon.
“I don’t mind if it’s heavy, as long as it’s sturdy.”
Erebus had the ability to corrode everything around it, even when left alone. Right now, only the handle remained, so its corrosive power was weak, but as it was restored, its strength would grow.
In his past life, when Erebus was 70% restored, just unsheathing it would turn everything nearby to dust.
“Heavy and sturdy, you say? How about this?”
The blacksmith brought out a long pole from the back.
“A local lord ordered it to use as a flagpole, but once it was finished, he said it was too heavy and didn’t take it. What a waste.”
Damian hefted the pole experimentally. It was so heavy he had to use both hands.
He gripped it with both hands and applied force. No matter how hard he tried, it wouldn’t bend.
“Impressive, isn’t it? It’s made from steel, hammered and compressed for months.”
It was incredibly heavy and barely flexible—terrible for a spear, but perfect for a flagpole.
Yet, Damian found himself liking it. Its weight would be good for training, and its compressed steel might withstand Erebus’s corrosion for a long time.
“I’ll take it.”
Damian also bought several coils of steel wire from the blacksmith.
Once outside the city, Damian retrieved Erebus. Stored as a tattoo, it emerged at his will.
He attached the handle of Erebus to the end of the pole and wrapped it tightly with the wire, using all his strength and even some magic to secure it. The result was a weapon that seemed like one solid piece.
“It doesn’t look like much, but it’ll do.”
Erebus was a massive sword, with a wide, thick blade remaining at the end of the handle. It looked more like a broken blade than a spear.
Damian infused the pole with a bit of magic. Even with just a small amount, the entire pole was enveloped in an aura.
‘Some things never change.’
Erebus had many powers, one of which was magic amplification. Even a small amount of magic would be multiplied several times. No one knew how this was possible, not even the great Dorco.
The amplification increased as Erebus was restored. In his past life, Damian had once created an aura blade so long and massive it could cleave an army in two.
‘There’s one more thing to check.’
Damian drove Erebus into the ground. Instantly, plants within a one-meter radius turned black and crumbled to dust, from weeds to towering trees.
This was one of Erebus’s main powers: “Black Decay.”
Black Decay consumed its surroundings and then destroyed their structure. Its range and power were limited now, but as Erebus was restored, Black Decay would grow stronger.
In his past life, Black Decay had made it impossible for anyone to approach Damian. Living beings would turn to dust just by coming near, and even long-range magical attacks were ineffective.
Only those of Master Class could resist Black Decay, and even they had to constantly expend magic to fend off the corrosion.
“It’s still too dangerous.”
Muttering to himself, Damian turned Erebus back into black smoke and absorbed it.
Interestingly, not only Erebus but the pole as well turned into black smoke. This was another minor power of Erebus.
“Now, it’s a straight shot home.”
Damian spurred his horse toward the Haxen estate.
As he neared home, a sense of unease crept over Damian.
“I wonder if Father has calmed down.”
Over two weeks had passed since his journey to and from the Longuist Mountains. By now, word of Damian reaching Middle Class would have spread far and wide.
Surely his father had heard the news and his anger had subsided.
With that hope, Damian arrived at the Haxen estate.
But as soon as he set foot inside, something felt off. Instead of a warm welcome, the mansion was eerily empty.
No servants, no family. Damian extended his senses.
He detected several presences in the second-floor drawing room. Focusing his gaze, he could see the heat signatures of people beyond the wall.
Damian moved to the drawing room and opened the door without hesitation. There, he found his family, frozen in place.
They were all seated on the sofa, but behind them stood hooded men, armed and menacing.
“D-Damian…”
His father spoke, his face filled with fear, just as Damian was about to respond.
“Oh, you’ve arrived.”
One of the hooded figures spoke. Like the others, his face was obscured.
The man stepped forward, and two others brought chairs.
The man sat down, and another stood behind him, like a bodyguard.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Please, have a seat.”
The man gestured to the chair opposite him, his voice deep and resonant.
Damian sat down calmly, facing the man with his back to the door.
“What do you want with me?”
Leaning back in his chair, Damian asked. The man’s smile widened, seemingly pleased with Damian’s composure.
“You’re not in a hurry. Is it confidence? Or are you just putting on a show?”
“Enough with the nonsense. Just tell me what you want.”
At Damian’s words, the man beside the seated figure bristled, but the seated man raised a hand to stop him.
“Impatient, are we? Or do you just not want to talk to me?”
“Both. So get to the point.”
“Haha, very well.”
The man chuckled briefly before addressing Damian.
“Damian Haxen, I’ve come to verify some rumors.”
“Rumors?”
“Word is, you helped the Order take down a dark sorcerer… and that you’ve already reached Middle Class.”
The man shifted his crossed legs and continued.
“Frankly, I find it hard to believe. Last I heard, you were just a good-for-nothing troublemaker. And now, not even half a year later, you’re Middle Class? It’s unheard of.”
It was a reasonable doubt.
Reaching Low Class within a year of picking up a sword was enough to be called a prodigy.
But Damian Haxen had reached Middle Class in less than half a year.
“It’s not unprecedented.”
“Ah, true. There are one or two cases throughout history. Which means your growth rate is on that level. Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
The man picked up a teacup from the table.
“Most people who’ve heard the rumors don’t believe them. I’m one of them. That’s why I’m here to see for myself.”
He snapped his fingers. The men behind Damian’s family slammed their weapons into the floor, making them flinch.
“Let me be clear, you can’t refuse. You know what will happen if you do.”
Damian clicked his tongue. His irritation was reaching its peak.
“What a bunch of pests.”
At that, the man standing like a bodyguard beside the seated figure bristled again.
“Watch your mouth. This is not someone you can speak to so casually.”
“If he’s so important, why is he doing something so despicable?”
The man’s aura flared, crashing against Damian’s face and body.
‘A Middle Class, huh.’
He was young, yet already at Middle Class—a rare talent.
“Let me teach you how to bow that stiff neck of yours!”
The man lunged forward, hand on his sword hilt. Damian, still seated, stomped on the hilt, preventing him from drawing.
The man couldn’t unsheathe his sword, while Damian used the momentum to flip backward over his chair.
‘Fighting here could endanger my family.’
Damian dashed out the door, the man hot on his heels.
The man swung his sword, its aura-enhanced blade slicing through the air toward Damian.
Damian parried with the iron sword he’d used in the Longuist Mountains.
‘Causing trouble in someone else’s home, are we?’
Dodging was easy, but doing so might put his family in direct danger.
Damian blocked the attacks just enough to lure the man outside the mansion.
“How long do you plan to keep running?”
The man shouted in frustration, drawing more magic.
A Middle Class warrior could change the tide of battle, and he was about to unleash his full power.
The sheer force of his magic sent objects flying around them.
The sight made Demian’s face twist in frustration.
“Is this guy out of his mind?”
When the middle class truly unleashed their power, it often left the surrounding area in ruins.
If that man went all out, not only the mansion but the fields would be completely destroyed.
He already felt guilty enough for what he’d done to his family. He couldn’t let the house be wrecked too.
Demian activated the Berserk Light Elixir.
The first effect of the elixir kicked in. His body temperature soared, and every muscle and sense in his body came alive.
His senses heightened to the extreme. The world seemed to slow down. Beads of sweat from the man’s forehead hung suspended in the air.
One step.
He moved forward, intercepting the horizontal slash aimed at his neck with his sword.
The Swordmaster’s skill, “Omniscient Flow,” came into play. The trajectory of the blade twisted. The sword, which had been swinging horizontally, suddenly shot upward.
The blade slipped from the man’s grip and flew far away.
”…!”
The man looked shocked, but Demian didn’t hesitate. He kicked the man in the abdomen.
“Ugh!”
With a sickening sound, the man’s body doubled over and was sent flying backward.
He rolled across the ground several times, clutching his stomach in pain, unable to get up.
Demian pushed off the ground, swinging his sword toward the man’s neck without hesitation.
Just as the blade was about to touch the man’s throat—
“Hold on.”
Someone intervened between them. Five fingers caught Demian’s steel sword, stopping it in its tracks.
Demian looked at the person who had grabbed his blade. It was the middle-aged man from the drawing room.
“We almost had a funeral here. Isn’t that a bit much?”
“The one going overboard is you,” Demian retorted, withdrawing his sword.
“A high-class individual playing these kinds of games.”
“Oh? You figured it out already? That’s no fun.”
The man pulled back his hood, revealing a face covered in a rugged beard.
“I was planning to introduce myself dramatically after the fight. Things got a bit tangled.”
“I know the threat to my family was fake too.”
“You figured that out as well? That’s really no fun,” the man said, looking disappointed.
“Allow me to introduce myself properly.”
Though he didn’t need to say it, Demian already knew.
It wasn’t because of memories from a past life. Anyone from the Apple Kingdom would recognize him.
“I’m Liam Bluegreen.”
One of only three high-class individuals in the Apple Kingdom, a man who pledged loyalty solely to the king, stood before him.