10. Indignation

The echo of footsteps.

The weight of silence.

A hooded figure moved swiftly down a long, red-carpeted hallway, his steps urgent, purposeful. Reaching a pair of grand, ornamental doors, he pushed them open and stepped inside.

"Your Highness," he spoke, kneeling on one knee before the throne.

From the shadowy seat of power, a pair of dark yellow eyes gleamed. The figure on the throne, imposing and unreadable, commanded with a voice like cold steel, "Speak."

"I bring a report on the party of heroes," the hooded man replied, keeping his head bowed.

The King's eyes narrowed, a flicker of interest breaking through his otherwise stoic expression. "Very well. Tell me everything."

The hooded man raised his head slightly, choosing his words with care. "The Hero himself shows remarkable prowess. He wields the light with extraordinary skill and possesses the greatest potential among them all."

A satisfied grin tugged at the corner of the King's lips. "Good. He will be a valuable tool against the demons that plague our lands."

"Indeed," the man agreed. "There is also a Battle Maiden. Her power is formidable, but she lacks the resolve to use it. In the goblin hunt you ordered, she was the only one who returned injured."

The King's grin faltered. "A Battle Maiden…They were thought to be extinct long ago. She may yet prove useful, given time."

The hooded man nodded and continued. "Next is a Berserker. He rivals the Hero in raw strength but is severely lacking in magic."

"A Berserker?" The King's grin returned, more sinister this time. He idly swirled the contents of his golden cup. "I have my own history with Berserkers. Is Bruckus still among them?"

"No, Your Highness," the man replied cautiously. "Bruckus has long since perished."

The King's expression grew distant, lost in a momentary reverie. "Time is a convoluted thing for me…No matter. Continue."

The man detailed each of the remaining heroes, one by one, until he finally spoke of Kōji.

"There is a rogue," he said.

The King arched an eyebrow. "A rogue, you say?"

"Yes," the hooded man confirmed. "He shows potential but is far too arrogant for his own good. He should have easily defeated a healer, yet…somehow, he was beaten by one."

The King's eyes widened, and he leaned forward. "A healer bested a rogue? Are you certain?"

The man nodded. "It sounds absurd, but it is true. Reivain-san can confirm it."

A long pause filled the chamber, and the King's interest deepened. "Tell me about this healer."

"Healers are rare these days, as Your Highness knows. They can turn the tide of any battle. But this one…" He hesitated, sensing the King's anticipation.

"Go on," the King urged.

"This healer…shows no improvement. He can barely manage the most basic of spells. By all accounts, his stats are the weakest among the heroes."

The King sighed, his disappointment evident. "I had hoped more from him." His gaze hardened, piercing through the hooded man like a blade. "Is he of any use to me?"

The hooded man hesitated, then shook his head slowly.

The King's eyes narrowed, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "Is that so…?"

"He's a liability, my liege. I see no future where this healer improves," the hooded man declared, his voice unwavering.

The King's gaze darkened, a hint of menace in his eyes. "Very well. Let us discard him," he replied coldly. "In this country, the weak perish. Only the strong endure."

"I understand, my liege...I may have a way to deal with this healer," the subordinate suggested.

The King tilted his head slightly, waiting for him to continue.

"The rogue among them—Kōji—despises him. Most of the healer's classmates do, but Kōji's hatred runs deep."

The King's lips curled into a thin smile. "Then we shall use him to eliminate the healer."

"Precisely. I'm confident Kōji will accept our terms. Perhaps, with time, he could even become one of our Fingers."

"A Finger, you say?" The King's surprise was evident; few knew of his hidden cult.

The hooded man grinned, a wicked light in his eyes. "Yes, my liege. I, Zayn, will ensure that this rogue becomes our most loyal pawn. He possesses the potential to be the next L̶̛̲̥͑̈́͛̒ǒ̷̦̥̯̳̳̺͚̩͇̖̟̝͈̋́̍̔̚͝͝ͅͅr̵̥̲̤̪͛̆͆̅̈̇̑͗͝ͅd̷̨̞̤̲̪̓̑ of Death."

The King's eyes narrowed to slits, his voice sharp as a blade. "A Lord? You know the rules, Zayn. Do you dare defy me? Do you dare to invoke the creation of another Lord?"

Zayn's grin did not falter. "This Lord will be yours to command, Your Highness. With him, we could end the war once and for all. Time is not on our side. The heroes will only rush into battle and meet a futile end."

The King's expression tightened, his pride wrestling with the truth in Zayn's words. The heroes had been summoned too late, a desperate move in a conflict that was spiraling out of control. He had suffered humiliation at the hands of a Lord before—he had no intention of repeating that mistake.

But something had to be done. The heroes needed to grow stronger, and the healer…was a liability. A plan began to form in the King's mind.

"No," he finally said, his voice resolute. "Send the heroes into the World Tower for an excursion. Call the rogue to me—I have a task for him."

Zayn bowed deeply. "Understood. I assume no one is to know of the rogue's visit."

The King nodded curtly. "That goes without saying. Now go and continue your surveillance. I expect results."

"As you command, my liege." Zayn rose, retreating from the chamber with a sinister smile.

Far from the opulence of the King's chamber, in the depths of a quiet forest, another storm brewed—not of politics, but of pure, unfiltered rage.

Kōji was currently in a forest, killing slimes and low-tier monsters to quench his rage.

Damn it...damn it…DAMN IT! Kōji's mind was ablaze with fury. Why? Why is that worthless Seiito always near Saka?!

Kōji's mind wandered back to that moment, a memory he couldn't escape, no matter how many times he tried to bury it. The scene played vividly in his head, tormenting him. The alley was dark, the men surrounding Saka were cruel, their intent unmistakable. She was terrified, her eyes wide with helplessness, pleading for salvation.

And Kōji…stood frozen.

His body had betrayed him. Every muscle had screamed at him to move, to rush in and protect her, but his legs wouldn't respond. His fear had shackled him, sinking him deeper into paralysis with every passing second. He had watched as those men closed in, Saka's cries growing more desperate. He hated them, but even more, he hated himself.

But someone else did move.

Seiito.

The same Seiito he had mocked in his mind as weak and soft-hearted. That same Seiito had stepped into the fray, his face set with determination, as if the threat to his own life was nothing compared to the need to protect Saka. Kōji remembered how Seiito had charged forward, fists clenched, no hesitation, no fear—only resolve.

He fought for her.

And Kōji could only watch as Seiito was beaten to the ground, fists, and boots raining down on him. Even then, Seiito didn't falter. He shielded Saka with his own body, taking the blows meant for her. Blood spilled from his mouth, and his ribs cracked beneath the onslaught, but he didn't stop. In the end, Seiito saved her, barely clinging to life, but victorious.

The memory was like a dagger to Kōji's chest. How could he, the one who wanted to be Saka's hero, have stood there doing nothing while Seiito, of all people, was the one who had the guts to act?

Kōji clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. He hated himself. Hated his cowardice. Hated that, in the moment that mattered most, he had failed.

The shame gnawed at him, festering inside like a wound that wouldn't heal. How could he have stood idle while the girl he cared for so deeply was in danger? How could he not have had the courage to save her?

Every time Kōji saw Seiito now, the bitterness rose in his throat. It wasn't just about Saka. It was about what Seiito represented: everything Kōji should have been but wasn't.

How could he live with that? How could he ever face her again, knowing he had failed her in her darkest hour?

The guilt was unbearable.

Seiito had earned her gratitude and trust, while Kōji had been left with nothing but the sting of his own shame.

And yet, despite all of that, he still found himself seething with jealousy. He hated Seiito—not for saving Saka, but because Seiito had done what he should have done. He had been the one who stood in Kōji's place.

Kōji wanted to scream, to lash out, to undo that moment. But no matter how much he wanted to, the truth remained. He hadn't moved. He hadn't saved her.

And it was that single, unbearable truth that made him hate himself more than anyone else ever could.

With a growl, Kōji slashed his dagger through the air, cleaving a goblin in two. Its shriek pierced the battlefield, but it wasn't enough to calm the storm of anger boiling within him. His hands trembled violently, still thirsty for blood. His jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth ached, but it did little to steady his rage.

Perched on a tree branch above, a shadowy figure observed the young assassin with keen interest, an unsettling grin tugging at his lips.

Kōji gripped his dagger tighter, muttering under his breath as he activated his skill, [Lightless Slash]. A swift, deadly arc of energy sliced through the air, severing the head of another goblin. The creature's death wail echoed briefly before it crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

A slow, mocking clap broke the silence.

"Bravo, Sir Hero. Quite the display of skill," a voice called down from above.

Kōji spun on his heels, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Perched in the branches was a hooded man, who leapt down with practiced grace. The man bowed, a sly grin spread across his face.

Kōji's stance remained tense, dagger raised defensively. His voice dripped with venom, "Who the hell are you? What do you want?"

The man's grin widened as he straightened, his dark eyes gleaming with malice. "The name is Zeyn, right hand to Valorian, the King's most trusted advisor." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "I've been sent on behalf of His Majesty. There's a special task he has in mind for you."

"The King?" For a moment, Kōji's anger faltered, a flicker of pride swelling in his chest. So, the King is finally recognizing my efforts. He could barely hide the smirk threatening to break across his face. Of course, I'm better than Takemi. That so-called 'Hero.'

In his mind, Kōji could already see it—the glory, the power, the admiration. He would surpass them all. He'd show them he didn't need anyone. And Saka...she would have no choice but to see him, to acknowledge his strength, to realize he was the one who could protect her, not that weakling Seiito.

Seiito. His name alone made Kōji's blood boil again. His thoughts darkened, his eyes narrowing to dangerous slits, his fingers itching to spill blood. Seiito...that useless pig.

Kōji shook himself from his thoughts, his voice harsh. "What does the King want with me?"

Zeyn gave a sly chuckle, his eyes glinting. "You'll have to ask him yourself. Now, let's go."

Without another word, Kōji followed Zeyn through the forest, his thoughts already swirling with possibilities.

He would prove his worth, no matter what it took.

The heavy, ornamented doors creaked open, and Zeyn entered the chamber with a quiet grace, immediately kneeling before the throne. By contrast, Kōji stood behind him, arms crossed, showing no sign of respect. His posture was defiant, his gaze sharp, and his silence almost daring. The King, Valorian, felt a flicker of irritation at the blatant insolence. A brat—powerful, yes, but still a brat. Yet, there was potential there, a tool to be sharpened, perhaps a pawn to be played. Zeyn's proposition was starting to seem quite intriguing.

"I brought him, my liege," Zeyn said with measured deference.

"Well done, Zeyn. You are dismissed." Valorian's voice was cold, commanding.

Zeyn rose, offering a respectful bow before exiting the chamber, the grand doors closing softly behind him. Now it was just Kōji and the King.

"What is it you need of me, Your Highness?" Kōji's words were blunt, with a touch of insolence that bordered on arrogance. There was no attempt to hide his disdain for the royal authority.

Valorian's gaze hardened, his narrowed eyes glinting like steel. The sheer audacity of Kōji's smug demeanor grated on him — a boy so arrogant, yet still useful.

"Kōji, was it?" The King's voice turned sharp, colder than ice. "I have a task for you...a mission only someone of your particular talents can accomplish."

Kōji's brow arched, intrigue flickering across his face.

Valorian's stare darkened further, his tone lowering into something far more menacing. "Will you kill the healer for me? Seiito."

The air shifted — cold and heavy.

For a brief moment, Kōji's expression stiffened. He hadn't expected such a direct order.

Kill Seiito...?

It was tempting — something he'd wanted to do for a while now — but the idea of actually carrying it out made his fingers twitch. It wasn't that he doubted his skills, but killing someone like Seiito wasn't as simple as slipping a knife between his ribs. There was always the risk of exposure...of everything spiraling out of control.

Am I really doing this? A faint tremor coursed through his hand.

But no...this was his chance. Everyone would forget Seiito in time — Saka would forget him. And when she did...she'd turn to Kōji. She'd be his.

The King must have a plan for this...right?

A slow, twisted smile crept across Kōji's face. The idea of finally ridding himself of that fat fool was intoxicating. With Seiito out of the way, there'd be no more competition — no more obstacle between him and Saka.

"As you wish, Your Highness," Kōji said, his voice laced with venom. His grin widened, his eyes flashing with sadistic glee. "How would you like me to dispose of him?"

Valorian's lips curled ever so slightly — pleased. The raw hatred in Kōji's gaze...the ruthless ambition behind that grin...it was exactly what he needed.

"The World Tower," Valorian said, leaning forward, his words slow and deliberate. "There's no better place for such an end. The Tower will swallow him whole... and no one will ask questions."

Kōji's grin twisted into something even more sinister. The World Tower — a labyrinth of death. A place where corpses were as common as cobwebs. The perfect site for an "accident."

His fingers curled as if already grasping Seiito's throat.

"I have a plan..." Valorian's voice dipped lower, like a whisper from the void. "Listen carefully..."