The three surviving members of Six Arms didn't hesitate when they heard the question.
"Live..."
"I want to live!"
"Live..."
Their weak voices overlapped, trembling with desperation.
Zero, their strongest leader, had been cut down so effortlessly. Davernoch and Malmvist had followed soon after, their lives snuffed out in mere moments.
They had expected to die as well—yet against all odds, they were still breathing.
"Great sir, I don't want to die!"
Lying in a pool of his own blood, Succulent twitches uncontrollably. The relentless cold from his wounds, the sensation of life slipping away, left him trembling with fear.
With great effort, his bloodstained arm reached out, his fingers weakly grasping toward the hem of Sakeer's black robe.
"Help me... Please... I'll do anything..."
Sakeer stepped forward, his movements measured, his presence looming over them like an unshakable force.
Extending a hand from beneath his black robes, he brushed his fingers lightly over them.
In an instant!
The cursed energy entangling their bodies dissipated, vanishing like mist under the morning sun.
Succulent and the others felt a sudden lightness, as if an unbearable weight had been lifted. More importantly, the bleeding from their wounds slowed—their lives no longer slipping away.
This method of curse removal was something Sakeer had discovered during his battle and exchange with the "Martial Lord" Go Gin in the Baharuth Empire.
This was his power.
The ability to control and refine his own strength was an essential part of mastering a profession.
Unlike the rigid, system-defined abilities of a game, the real world allowed for fluidity in power expression, particularly in high-tier professions like "Magic Swordsman."
Swish!
Sakeer produced a small vial of regeneration potion and tossed it toward them.
Simple treatment—nothing extravagant, just enough to keep them standing.
With difficulty, the three regained some semblance of strength, staggering to their feet.
The sky had darkened.
Night had fallen.
Under the silver glow of the stars and moonlight, the massive Bone Dragon loomed behind Sakeer, its skeletal frame radiating a chilling aura of death.
Its wings cast an oppressive shadow over the trio, making them feel even smaller.
They shivered, unable to look directly at the cloaked figure standing before them.
The arrogance they once held—vanished.
Their past confidence, their swagger—crushed.
"M-My lord... what would you have us do?"
It was Succulent who spoke first, his tall, thin frame trembling as he forced flattery into his expression.
He knew—this mysterious figure before them hadn't spared them out of kindness.
There was a reason.
And he wanted to find out what it was—before it was too late.
Sakeer's gaze fell upon Succulent, the weakest among the Six Arms.
A subtle smile curled beneath his hood.
"Get that head," he ordered.
Succulent hesitated—only for a moment—before scrambling forward.
Ignoring the pain searing through his wounds, he bent down and lifted Zero's severed head.
The sheer terror of the moment sank in.
Zero, the formidable and terrifying leader of Six Arms—dead, just like that.
Succulent felt his mind reel.
A deep fear took root inside him.
Sakeer's voice was calm.
"The Battle Demon didn't die by my hands. He died by yours."
Succulent froze.
Sakeer's words echoed in his mind, sinking in like a dagger.
The Eight Fingers Security Department wouldn't care about the details.
What mattered was the simple truth:
Zero—their strongest enforcer—was dead.
And now, someone stronger had taken his place.
None of them were fools.
Even Peshurian and Edström exchanged glances, their expressions darkened with regret.
Succulent, still clutching Zero's head, felt his hands tremble.
As the weakest of the Six Arms, no one would ever believe that he had killed Zero.
But—that didn't matter.
The truth was irrelevant.
What mattered was that the Battle Demon was dead—and someone more powerful had taken his place.
The Eight Fingers were not a righteous organization.
They wouldn't care about moralities, principles, or past allegiances.
Even the undead could join their ranks.
They wouldn't question whether Succulent had truly killed Zero.
All they needed to see was that someone stronger had replaced him.
Succulent's entire body trembled—not from fear, but from excitement.
This was an opportunity.
A chance not just to live, but to rise.
He dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead firmly against the grass.
His voice was fervent, almost trembling with emotion.
"My lord, Succulent pledges his service to you!"
As long as he had the backing of this powerful, mysterious being, there was no need to fear the competition for the position of head enforcer.
Sakeer turned his gaze to the other two.
Peshurian and Edström, despite their regret, had no choice.
Their voices came quickly, almost in unison.
"We will assist Succulent!"
Sakeer gave a small nod.
Without another word, he walked over to the lifeless body of "Thousand Kills" Malmvist and reached down—
Plucking the rose-shaped sword from the corpse.
The blade glowed faintly in the moonlight, as if still thirsty for blood.
"Someone will come here tomorrow with this sword. She is the new 'Thousand Kills.'"
Sakeer spoke calmly, his words carrying an undeniable weight. Without another glance, he leapt onto the Bone Dragon's back.
Rumble!
The massive creature flapped its wings, stirring up a powerful gust that rippled through the air. In an instant, it vanished into the darkness of the night.
Only after Sakeer had completely disappeared did the three figures on the lawn finally allow themselves to breathe.
Succulent, who had been lying on the ground moments ago, pushed himself up. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and triumph as he turned to the other two.
"I'll be counting on you both from now on."
There was no attempt to hide the smug satisfaction in his tone.
At first, he had been uneasy, unsure of his standing. But now, knowing that the new 'Thousand Kills' was a direct subordinate of that mysterious figure, his concerns vanished.
This new addition would only strengthen his position—not threaten it.
Inside a small inn, Imina sat by the window, her amber eyes flickering with worry. She glanced outside repeatedly, but the pitch-black night revealed nothing.
"Your master left, and you're not worried at all?"
Suppressing her irritation, she turned her gaze to the small Barghest lying lazily on the floor.
The creature merely lifted its eyelids, tilting its head to the side—completely ignoring her.
Seeing this, Imina's eyelids twitched. She exhaled slowly, trying to maintain her patience.
"I heard that the horns and bone chains on a Barghest make for excellent magic materials."
Her tone was casual, but there was a hint of menace in her voice.
"They should fetch quite a high price."
The little Barghest froze, its relaxed posture stiffening. A moment later, it cautiously raised its head, staring at Imina with wide, alert eyes.
"Hah."
Imina let out a soft chuckle, clearly amused.
Knock. Knock.
Just then, a series of knocks echoed from the door.
Before Imina could react, the little Barghest had already moved. Its bone chains rattled as they slithered toward the doorknob, twisting and pulling with a sharp click.
The door swung open.
Straightening her posture, Imina quickly masked her concern, her expression settling into cool indifference.
Her gaze landed on Sakeer, and she crossed her arms over her chest.
"I thought you wouldn't be back until dawn."
She scanned him briefly, her voice laced with faint amusement.
"Looks like things didn't go as smoothly as expected?"
Sakeer, who had just stepped inside, reached out and patted the little Barghest's head. Then, with an easy motion, he pulled down his hood, revealing a relaxed smile.
"No."
His smile widened slightly.
"It went far better than expected."
With that, he pulled out a rose-engraved sword and tossed it toward Imina.
"A gift for you."
"A gift?"
Caught off guard, Imina instinctively caught the sword, her fingers tightening around its elegant hilt.
The blade was a slender rapier, its entire surface gleaming pure silver. At the base of the hilt, a delicately carved rose bloomed, its petals infused with a faint magical glow.
A magic weapon.
Even before Sakeer explained, Imina could feel it—the weapon was far beyond anything she could normally afford.
As if reading her thoughts, Sakeer briefly introduced the sword's abilities.
"It's made entirely of mithril and enchanted with two magical properties—'Meat Milling' and 'Assassination Expert.'"
"'Meat Milling' twists the surrounding muscles the moment it pierces flesh, while 'Assassination Expert' enlarges even the smallest wound."
Imina remained silent for a moment, her fingers tracing the intricate craftsmanship of the sword.
A weapon like this wasn't just valuable—it was deadly.
And he had given it to her.
She looked up at Sakeer, but his expression remained unreadable.
She wasn't sure if this was a reward, a message, or a test.
But one thing was certain—it was a weapon meant for killing.
To put it simply, as long as this sword lands a strike—even a mere scratch—the wound will fester into a severe injury. It was a highly dangerous thrusting weapon, designed for precision and lethality.
For Imina, a guerrilla fighter known for her agile and adaptable combat style, this weapon was an almost perfect fit.
For Sakeer, however, the sword held little real value. Its enchanted properties were insignificant compared to the power of the curse he wielded.
Imina tightened her grip on the Rose Rapier, inhaling slowly. There was a subtle shift in her voice—one even she hadn't noticed.
"Are you sure this is a gift and not a reward?"
Sakeer shrugged, his expression unreadable.
"Starting tomorrow, you'll be one of the Six-Armed members of the Eight Fingers. Consider it your reward."
He spread his hands casually.
"Of course, you also know that I'll be leaving for a while. Since you'll be in charge of the Security Department—one of Eight Fingers' key divisions—I'll be counting on you."
Imina's eyes widened, a brief flicker of shock crossing her face.
You must be joking.
Her expression hardened, searching Sakeer's face for any sign of amusement.
But his calm demeanor told her he was completely serious.
After a long pause, Imina swallowed, her throat shifting slightly.
"Hah."
She stared down at the Rose Rapier, the blade catching the dim light as her amber eyes flickered with thought.
"I knew your rewards were never simple."
There was nothing simple about the man standing before her.
A brief silence settled between them.
Then, instead of pressing him for details, Imina asked a different question.
"Why me?"
Sakeer answered without hesitation.
"Because you're a half-elf."
A moment passed.
"I see."
Imina nodded, lifting the Rose Rapier with a newfound understanding.
She turned towards the door, her twin purple ponytails swaying slightly as she moved.
"As long as you're not worried about me making a mess of things."
With that, she stepped out, and the door closed behind her.
Sakeer stretched, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"The groundwork in the Kingdom of Re-Estize is more or less complete. Now, it's time to focus on myself."
He had no concerns about Imina's ability to handle the situation.
After all, whether it was the "Phantom Devil" Succulent or the new "Thousand Kills" Imina, they all owed their current positions to him.
And in the end, everything boiled down to one fundamental truth—
Strength.
As long as one understood that, everything else became much easier.
Sakeer's fingers itched with anticipation as he opened his status panel, his eyes scanning the newly displayed information.
—Ding!—
A notification pulsed before his eyes.
[You have discovered the professional skill: "Totem Possession."]
[Requirement: Mid-Level Class - "Shamanic Adept."]
[No prerequisite skills required.]
Another message followed.
[No prior class occupation detected. Requires six skill points.]
["Genius" Class has been activated. Transitioning: "Genius → Shaman."]
[Learning conditions met. Consume three skill points to acquire?]
Sakeer's thoughts sharpened.
"Learn."
The decision was made.
Class: Shamanic Adept
Level: Mid-Level Class
Ability Effects:
Passive – Soul Guide: Allows the user to see the souls of deceased beings, especially those they focus on, extending the duration of their soul's existence.
Class Skill: Totem Possession
(For each level gained, HP, Physical Attack, and Physical Defense increase by 10 points.)
Introduction:
The user gains the ability to perceive the natural flow of energy and the strength of hearts and souls. Their unwavering belief in the power of totems grants them immense strength.