Little Tyrant Doesn’t Want to Meet with a Bad End

Inside the monastery, Klaude was clutching tightly to a sword he hadn’t used even once since obtaining it. He huddled up into a ball inside the mini fortress he had built in the room out of furniture and trembled fearfully.

Klaude was already middle-aged, which meant that he had a wealth of life experiences, but ultimately, he was more into books than swords. He spent most of his time inside the monastery teaching the students language, math, and the stories about the Genesis Goddess Church.

Being conscripted to join Princess Victoria’s logistical platoon was probably the most frightening event in his life. He had to march into the battlefield to carry the wounded back to camp so that they could get treated, so it was inevitable that he would be exposed to the cruelty and gruesomeness of war. In just a few short days, he had already seen more bloodshed than he ever wanted to.

He was disappointed when he was left behind by the main army, but in truth, it was also a huge relief to him too. Being able to return to this familiar monastery set his mind at ease, making him feel like everything was normal once more.

Little did he expect that he would actually stumble onto Sia’s envoys in this familiar monastery. As if that wasn’t enough, an evil cultist even knocked on the doors of the monastery shortly after. The evil cultist summoned countless vengeful spirits around, haunting the monastery. A malevolent air drifted in the surroundings, and from time to time, cries of agony could be vaguely heard from the fog. He thought that the demons from legend had resurfaced in the world.

Klaude stared at the sealed door as he gasped for air. Huge droplets of perspiration could be seen dripping from his head. He turned around to look at the sleeping girl behind him, and a complicated and fearful look surfaced on his face.

The Holy Sons must be fighting with all their strength right now.

Klaude’s faith was telling him that he ought to do something, but his trembling body rendered him powerless. In his view, the only ones who could deal with those evil demons were the Holy Sons.

He was convinced that Nora and Roel weren’t ordinary mortals, not just in terms of strength but character too. They were strong yet humble, polite and approachable, brave and unyielding. They would unhesitatingly pick up their weapons and fight against any evil cultist who came their way. Ordinary mortals didn’t possess the inner strength they did.

In truth, Nora and Roel were frightened too. However, they found their courage to overcome their fear in different places. For Nora, it was her lineage and her dignity. For Roel, it was his sense of responsibility and morals. Their reasons were different, but it allowed them to overcome the hurdles in their hearts, granting them the strength to stand strong.

Surrendering to a stronger power wasn’t frightening; what was more frightening was the surrender of one’s soul. Klaude could feel a lofty, unshakable spirit coming from the two children, and it was a quality that he had only seen in very few prestigious figures like Princess Victoria.

“May Sia bless the two of you.”

Klaude bowed to the idol of Goddess Sia and fervently prayed for the safety of the two Holy Sons.

…

Peter Kater had never thought that a day would come where he would be forced into a defensive position by a mere Origin Level 6 brat. With ‘Eva and Her Dog’ destroyed, he was only left with Smiling Mother and a few other minor paintings to use.

A fat businessman, a stern soldier, a crying maid… Peter released all of his earlier, more mediocre works. Most of these paintings didn’t wield too much strength, and Peter considered them an embarrassment. However, given the current situation, his pride was of secondary concern. In this fog where his visibility was limited to 10 meters, he was faced with an opponent who wielded a powerful weapon and could mysteriously vanish into thin air. All of this manifested into a fatal threat that gripped his heart with fear.

The pale-faced Peter took deep breaths as he tried his best to calm his heart.

I mustn’t panic. It’s just an Origin Level 6 brat, that’s all!

So what if he has a powerful weapon in his hands? His combat experience and mental fortitude is nothing compared to me! I am the hunter here. He’s nothing more than my prey!

While reassuring himself, he shouted furiously at the surroundings, hoping to lure Roel out. However, other than the cries of vengeful spirits, there was nothing to be seen or heard amidst the fog. His yellowish eyes glared at the surroundings in fury.

It was then that he suddenly sensed some movements in the defense line formed by his paintings 20 meters behind him.

Found you!

As soon as he received the information from his paintings, Peter Kater channeled his mana into the tip of his finger, manifesting a ball of red light. It was the vile spell that made the target’s blood explode upon impact. Without hesitation, he shot out the spell, and it struck a figure cloaked in a red shawl.

“Hahahaha! Do you finally understand the difference standing between us now, brat? Did you think that you can defeat me just because you have a couple of good items on you? You must be dreaming!”

Peter Kater was ecstatic to see that his spell had struck a target. He laughed gleefully as he began striding toward the target he had just struck, wanting to admire the pained look on Roel Ascart’s face as his body was reduced to a pile of bloodied water.

To his horror, while it was indeed Roel Ascart lying there, the look on him wasn’t that of pain but of triumph and ridicule. Roel was lying prone on the floor, his hand grasping onto the purple pendant which he wasn’t able to activate back at the ‘Personal Studio’. There was a shimmering barrier that was made out of light cloaking his body. No matter how the paintings clawed at the barrier, they were unable to breach it.

From the instant that Peter Kater saw that Roel was fine, his mouth opened and closed in utter shock, losing his speech. On the other hand, Roel’s eyes lit up with murderous intent.

“Gotcha!”

Roel’s voice was like an invitation from the grim reaper.

At the next instant, Roel’s body suddenly vanished into thin air. A gust of wind blew from Peter’s back as a short sword pierced right through Smiling Mother with unstoppable momentum. It all happened so fast that Peter had no time to react at all.

Pchi!

The sound of a blade piercing into a human’s body sounded loudly in the air.

Peter lowered his head in disbelief as he looked at the blade stabbing right into his chest. Blood spewed out of his mouth. It was then that he realized that he had fallen for Roel’s trap.

I was fooled by a mere brat.

As blood spurted from Peter’s body, his consciousness gradually blurred. His life began to flash before his eyes. He recalled his poorer years, the despaired days he spent after his lover and family members died, as well as the days that he spent wandering around as an unrecognized painter. In the end, he was taken in by an evil cultist and ended up walking on the path of a transcendent.

The young painter he saw in his memories had such a resolute look on his face, swearing to never be governed by the rules of the world anymore. That was his initial goal of being a transcendent.

However, as time passed, he found himself turning into a tool of the organization. His initial dreams had eroded away before he knew it, and now, he was even going to lose his life to his target.

I see. Is that the reason why I can’t advance any higher?

As death crept closer and closer to him, an epiphany struck Peter. He suddenly understood just what he was lacking. Along with this realization, his mana began to gush outward furiously. With newfound strength, he grabbed the short sword that was plunged into his chest and turned around to face Roel with reddened eyes.

“Cough! Brat, I didn’t think that you would have been able to push me to this point. I have really underestimated you. You are indeed a far more formidable opponent than I had thought. However… did you think that you can kill me just like that?”

Peter howled with the fury of a beast. His gaze was filled with the tenacity to tear apart the enemy before him.

Roel felt goosebumps rising up all over his body in fear. This was the first time he was really witnessing just how frightening and unyielding the transcendents of this world were.

“You’re underestimating the prowess of an Origin Level 4 transcendent! Did you really think that you’ve stabbed my heart? Take a closer look!”

Roel widened his eyes as he looked at the wound caused by Ascendwing, only to see that the injury he caused had vanished without a trace. In its place was a distorted portrait.

‘“State of Immersion’, this is my greatest trump card. A part of my body has already turned into a painting. You can no longer kill me!

“I admit that you were indeed a fearsome adversary, Roel Ascart, but it’s a pity that you are far too weak. You aren’t able to comprehend what transcendents are capable of. That’s why, this battle is my victory!

“Still, I should thank you for reminding me of my past. I finally see what is pulling me back. With that, goodbye!”

Peter grabbed the short sword in front of his chest tightly while summoning the tattered Smiling Mother back to his side. The bloodied, bony hands of Smiling Mother swiped across the air to tear through Roel’s throat.

At this critical moment, time suddenly seemed to have slowed for Roel.

Peter was right. Roel was not a true transcendent yet. He didn’t have a real grasp of just what high-level transcendents were truly capable of, leading to his plans falling short. However, that didn’t mean that it was over yet.

If Peter was able to suddenly release a huge burst of power when crisis struck, there was no reason why Roel couldn’t do likewise. The enemy before him might be a tenacious demon, but he was no pushover either!

He reached out to the flames of life that burned at his very core and ignited it, causing it to blaze with astounding fervor.

【System confirmed.】

【Spell ‘Grandar’s Promise’ has been activated.】

【Countdown. 30… 29… 28…】

Rampaging mana seared every nerve in Roel’s body, inciting him to roar in frenzy. The sudden surge of power caused his muscles to rip and tear, but he couldn’t feel a thing at all. His body had already lost its sense of pain.

At the same time, the bony claws of Smiling Mother finally reached Roel’s body and pierced through his chest, inflicting him with a fatal wound. Yet, Roel paid no heed to that either. At this very moment, his attention was focused solely on Ascendwing.

“Shit! What’s going on? Why did your mana suddenly… Impossible… Smiling Mother, hurry up and kill him!”

Peter immediately noticed that things had gone awry. The short sword that he had been holding in place was moving once more, threatening to pierce through the area of effect of the State of Immersion. He bellowed to his paintings desperately, but it was all futile.

Roel was like an infallible war god. Despite grievous wounds that were being inflicted on his body, his face remained impassive. Even his fighting prowess hadn’t lessened in the slightest.

Is this… undead reanimation? It can’t be!

Peter stared at the bloodied boy before him in shock and incomprehension. Perhaps it might have been a figment of his imagination, but he seemed to see a massive silhouette standing right behind the boy, gazing down on him with eyes so impassive they made him feel as if he was nothing more than an ant.

He panicked. He knew that things had gone completely wrong, but he was powerless to change anything.

“Thanks for your warning. Goodbye, Peter Kater.”

Surrounded by the ghosts of the paintings and the fog, Roel swung Ascendwing horizontally with unstoppable force.

In the wake of a flash of silver light, a body was severed in two.