Chapter 4: The Cursed Armory

Years had passed. Rachel, now in her twenties, was no longer a small, fragile elf but a fit, muscular woman with a strong feminine figure, long dark-green hair, and bright red eyes.

After Rina became the Demon Lord and began building her armies and waging battles, Rachel trained relentlessly.

She endured the pain and suffering, determined to grow strong enough to help her mother, but Rina never allowed her to join the fights, guarding her like a treasured jewel.

Yet not today—Rachel, with Elyndra’s help, slipped into the armory within the Demon Lord’s castle, exploring it in awe.

Rachel’s eyes widened at the racks of weapons and armor. “Aunt Elyndra, this is amazing! Look at all these weapons and armors—where are they from?”

Elyndra smiled faintly. “Many were taken during your father’s raids on the old Demon Lords’ fortresses. He stored them here for safekeeping, in case his own armor or weapon broke beyond repair.

He collected everything, even when he didn’t need it. Whenever I asked why, he always said he needed at least one of everything—whatever that meant.”

Rina appeared suddenly, scolding sharply. “What are you doing down here? I told you you’re banned from fighting in the battles.

Look at what happened last time you snuck into one.” Her glare fell to the scar across Rachel’s shoulder.

Rachel clenched her fists. “I have to fight sometime. You won’t always be there to protect me.”

Rina turned her gaze on Elyndra. “You’re supposed to be watching over her, not encouraging her.”

Elyndra looked down sheepishly, then muttered, “But… I’m the cool auntie.”

Rachel’s attention was suddenly caught by a towering suit of armor. It loomed with a massive greatsword, painted in red and black, adorned with skulls and bones, and blood red etched runes and draped in tattered crimson cloth. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “What is that armor? It looks incredible!”

She stepped toward it, but Rina and Elyndra both shouted in unison:

"STOP!"

Rachel froze and asked, “What is it?”

“That,” Elyndra warned, “is the cursed armor of the Mad King.

Your father and our party defeated him. He was monstrously strong. But do not touch—it’s cursed.”

“Cursed equipment? What’s wrong with it?” Rachel asked curiously.

As her teacher, Elyndra explained, “Cursed armor and weapons cannot be removed once worn. They bind to you forever unless purified by angels or priests with holy magic.”

“Then why would anyone put them on?” Rachel pressed.

“Because cursed gear is immensely powerful, granting abilities far beyond ordinary equipment. But it always comes with a terrible price. As for the Mad King’s armor… I cannot even tell what curse it carries. My magic cannot touch it. So do not lay a hand on it.”

Suddenly, explosions thundered from beyond the castle walls.

Rina scowled. “Damn angels… not again. Come, Elyndra, we’re needed. And you—” she fixed Rachel with a stern glare, “back to your room.”

With a flash of darkness, Rina vanished. Elyndra spread her wings and flew out the window after her.

The sounds of battle continued outside as Rachel stood frozen in the armory, her eyes locked on the cursed armor and sword. Then she heard it—a whisper speaking into her mind.

Take me. With my power you will be able to strike down the goddess who cursed you and tore your family apart. Everything is the goddess’s fault.

Rachel spun around, searching for the source, but found no one.

The whisper persisted: Come. Take me, and you will fight beside your mother on the front lines.

Another explosion shook the castle. Steel clashed and voices cried in the distance.

Gullible and desperate, Rachel whispered back, “So… how much stronger will I become with you?”

Unstoppable, the voice whispered into her ear. A juggernaut. No angel could stand in your way with me at your side.

Rachel hesitated. “But… Mother and Auntie told me I’d be cursed if I used you.”

The whisper fell silent for a moment, then returned, soft and cruel: You already bear so many curses. What is one more to someone who suffers daily?

Her hands trembled, blood leaking from her eyes. She thought bitterly, Heh… what is one more curse? I’ve grown strong. I can endure any pain.

Rachel stepped closer. She reached out and touched the armor. and darkness consumed her, the plates wrapped around her body, and the greatsword fixed itself across her back. As she felt power surge through her,

she unsheathed the greatsword and gazed at it, feeling its power pulse through her veins as it whispered: Give me blood. Kill. Murder. Show those angels who the real threat is.

On the battlefield the armies clashed, chaos roaring as Elyndra found herself face-to-face with Thamiel, the one-winged angel. His arrogant tone cut through the noise:

“So, the little fairy chose to side with the Demon Lord. Fitting for savages that hide in the forest. Don’t worry—I’ll end your pitiful little life.”

Thamiel unleashed a barrage of fire arrows, but Elyndra quickly raised a shimmering barrier. He sneered, “Careful, Elyndra, or you’ll end up with wings like mine.”

She deflected the flames, dodging just as a blinding flash sliced past, nearly cleaving her in two. Before her stood something she had never seen before—a humanoid with blue skin and hair made of crackling energy.

The stranger lunged again, and Elyndra could not evade. Her salvation came at the last instant.

Durog, trusty shield in hand, slammed between them, blocking the blow. “This lass hits hard. Who is she?”

Thamiel smirked. “This is the new hero, summoned by my goddess. She will execute you filthy traitors.”

The so-called hero charged with her companions at her side. Elyndra and Durog struggled to hold their ground, waiting desperately for the Demon Lord to arrive—but she was too far away.

Just as defeat seemed certain, a juggernaut of bone and steel stormed onto the field. With a single colossal swing, Rachel’s blade split through scores of angels, their blood siphoned into the cursed weapon.

Thamiel looked on in shock, recognizing the cursed armor. He thought to himself, Who would be foolish enough to don that accursed armor? Knowing its terrible power, he panicked and barked, “Guard me! I’m going to cast a powerful spell—don’t let anyone through!”

the angels formed a wal las the hero and her party approched rachel ready to fight her head on

Elyndra flew close to the fighting, Rachel landing on her shoulder as she cried out, “What have you done? Why didn’t you listen to our warnings?”

Elyndra chanted for a moment, then thrust out her hand and called out,

“Grasping Vines!”

Vines surged upward from the ground, snaring the flying angels above and dragging them down. Rachel leapt into the air and swung the massive sword, cleaving through them as feathers and fragments of shattered armor scattered and empty bisected husks fell to the ground.

Rachel admitted quietly, “Well… I spoke to the armor. It kind of convinced me. What’s one more curse to someone like me, who will always be haunted by them?”

Elyndra became flustered and stammered, “But… but…!” Before she could say what she wanted, Rachel had already darted forward toward Thamiel leaveing the fairy in the dust.

Rachel charged forward, noticing Thamiel’s magic spell nearly complete. The whispers of the armor’s madness clawed at her mind: More blood… that angel, he looks delicious… take his strength… swing me now. The sword in her hands began to glow a sinister red as the voice pressed her onward.

She slammed her foot down, cracking the ground beneath her, and swung the cursed blade.

A crimson arc of energy shot out, tearing across the battlefield, cleaving angels in its path.

Then at the end of the cursed strikes path was Thamiel just as he was about to unleash his spell, the cursed slash struck severing his left arm and tearing away half of his wing, sending him crashing back to the ground in shock.

Thamiel, shocked and desperate, shouted for a retreat as his angels carried him and they flew to safety in the sky s above, his gaze fixed in horror on the cursed armor that crushed his remaining troops.

She was a wrecking ball, every strike carving a path of carnage until the enemy broke and fled.

Victory echoed across the battlefield—yet it was hollow.

When Rina arrived and saw the truth, her enraged scream carried above the battlefield:

“RACHEL… WHAT DID YOU DO!”