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The Rise Of The God Of Death
*Chapter 7: Game Changer*
After the intense fight with the two assassins, Daimon walked back toward the fallen parents, Lucy still tightly hugging his leg, seeking comfort. The scene was heavy with sorrow as the couple lay severely wounded, their breaths shallow and eyes fading. Daimon clenched his fists, anger burning in his chest. He summoned a fragment of his remaining divine power and invoked a lost sacred technique — an ancient divine art almost forgotten to time. A soft, radiant aura enveloped the parents, stabilizing their wounds and prolonging their lives.
Despite the miracle, their spirits were broken. Jarul, the father, opened his eyes weakly and, with a faint smile, said, "Daimon… make sure to be a good father... thank you."
Daimon's lips curled into a gentle smile, "I have your orders, sir."
Jarul's eyes sparkled with a hint of humor despite the pain. "Since I'm your sir now… don't you think it's time you told us who you really are?" he smirked.
Marley, his wife, nodded slowly, "We saw your strength in battle… you're no ordinary man."
Daimon's gaze softened as he revealed, "I am Daimon, the God of Death. I fought death itself and won… but now, my purpose is different."
He vowed to protect Lucy with his life. The group shared stories, though Daimon kept the detail about killing the assassins hidden — he said they fled, maintaining a veil of secrecy.
Before they parted ways, Daimon asked two important questions:
1. How can I officially make this child my daughter? She's an orphan, but I want to give her a true family.
2. How can I grow stronger fast? I need to protect her and face what's coming.
One of the adventurers pointed north, "You need to go to the Central City of the North. That's where answers and power await."
Without hesitation, Daimon lifted Lucy onto his shoulders, determination blazing in his eyes. A new journey was about to begin.
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