Chapter 32: Numbers Are the Reason for Becoming King

The Beast’s Assault

The shadow’s arched spine bent to an exaggerated degree. A low growl rumbled in its throat, accompanied by the stench of blood. Its foreclaws pressed down, nearly crushing the boy beneath. The disparity in strength left Rite unable to break free. Even with all his might, it was futile; he could only lock eyes with the beast’s ferocious wolf-like gaze, refusing to yield.

Swish—! A spear flew in, piercing the beast’s body. The giant wolf staggered, and the boy seized the moment to roll away, creating distance. In the man’s view, the spear had clearly struck the creature’s body. Yet, in an instant, it was bizarrely expelled from the wound.

Before anyone could react in such close quarters, the shadow lunged, its bloodied maw gaping. “Rite!” “Rite—!!” The boy’s thigh was torn open in a flash, flesh hanging by threads as if the pain itself lingered. The overwhelming aura sent chills through everyone; legs trembled uncontrollably.

Taote, undeterred, grabbed his weapon and charged forward. The surrounding flames seemed to flare even fiercer, drowning out the chaotic noise. Recklessness was folly born of ignorance. In the moment he faced the beast, fear overpowered his courage. The shadow shifted its target to the man, crouching low before lunging forward!

Whoosh! A blade of wind sliced through, blocking its path. The giant wolf darted back over ten meters, its menacing growls unrelenting. In the midst of the fire, a silver-haired girl appeared, her presence unremarkable, exuding no threat. Yet, her arrival made everyone freeze in place.

The village’s flames subsided in an instant, like a faint flicker in an oil lamp, dancing as if in celebration. Gentle breezes brushed past the girl, threatening to stoke the fire. In that moment, a mountain of magical energy poured from her. Wenger stamped the ground, her figure blurring as she moved. The shadow didn’t dodge; instead, its bloodlust surged, roaring as it charged!

Its forelimbs extended unnaturally. Wenger judged it reckless to meet it head-on with her hand—she didn’t want to get hurt needlessly. At nearly point-blank range, a silver gleam flashed through the air. A long sword appeared from nowhere. The girl seized the hilt, twisting her body to hurl the beast away, then rode the wind to land gracefully.

The shadow, sprawled in the crater it created, took only two breaths before glaring at her with predatory intent. The wind grew louder, and magical energy enveloped the village, forming an impenetrable wind field. Crimson flames slowly climbed, merging with the whirlwind to create a blazing wall of fire.

The girl held her sword, calmly awaiting her moment, steadily shrinking the battlefield. The few remaining goblins were incinerated by the fire magic she’d unleashed upon arrival. The instant the beast moved, Wenger vanished from her spot. Her silver sword sliced through its body without resistance.

Catching a glimpse of a flickering crystal core, she reached into the beast’s closing wound and crushed it decisively. The mutated wolf’s body went still, its aura dissipating as it collapsed. Wenger drove her sword into its head for good measure.

It felt too smooth, almost dreamlike. Looking around, the village lay in ruins, countless corpses strewn about, the air thick with an unbearable stench. She approached the boy, emerald light scattering from her hand, merging into his body to stop the bleeding.

Taote and Aika stood nearby, seemingly wary of something. “Miss…” Wenger noticed their conflicted expressions and, following their gazes, realized the issue. In this era, a black robe wasn’t a good omen—it likely caused a misunderstanding. Even with the existence of transcendents offering the potential to surpass mortal limits, most people remained ordinary. Witches, cloaked in black robes to conceal their tracks, often pursued secret research to achieve transcendence through other means.

She’d grown used to it in Maple Whisper Village and hadn’t thought about it while hurrying here today. “I’m not a bad person.” Under the dim night, her expression was hard to read, and the air grew eerily silent. The more she explained, the worse it seemed.

Aika knelt beside her, clutching her sleeve, pleading for her to save the boy. Wenger didn’t respond—she was already doing so. Together, they carried the boy into a house. The young girl who’d asked for her help handled all the cleanup, while Wenger silently worked her magic.

Outside, the beast’s corpse underwent a subtle change. At the severed wound, countless blood-red threads writhed like a spider’s web, as if trying to come alive. Moonlight melted into the silver sword, faintly tinged with blood. As the blade trembled slightly, bloodvines spread from nowhere, wrapping the corpse. The eerie flesh stilled under the sword, unable to resist.

Wenger hadn’t paid special attention to the outside, having roughly scanned the area upon arrival. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have entered the battlefield so confidently.

The Sword’s Awakening

A strange notification sounded. [*+1 (1/100)] [Legend says the Nameless Sword can sever time itself. Stained with dragon blood and curses, it grants its wielder waning power and an instinct to devour. A girl once deemed it ominous and sealed it. Those who try to cut time have their lives cut in turn.] [Current Enhancement Level—1, Additional Boost: Strength +5, Intelligence +5, Agility +5, Faith -20 (Sealed, Reduced by 99.9%)]

Wenger: ? What was this? The girl showed no sign of her confusion. It seemed the sword she’d picked up had undergone some change. Was this a level-up from killing monsters? The familiar upgrade mechanic was back, but something felt off. It seemed to be pushing her down a strange path.

She read the text floating before her, dismissing the numbers as trivial before quickly moving on. Just as she was about to close it, she belatedly noticed an odd figure. Her gaze returned to the end of the text, and her brow twitched. Pure numbers!

The talk of cutting time was irrelevant, but a curse… Aika, watching Rite’s condition, also kept an eye on this older sister’s reactions. Was that expression… impatience? This mage had saved everyone and was willing to heal Rite—surely Aika was overthinking it.

Wenger always thought she controlled her expressions perfectly. But those who rarely smiled didn’t understand the subtle coldness their faces could convey. Wenger (Warm).png ✗ Witch (Cold).png ✓

Her personality was fairly approachable, but in this moment of silence, no one could tell. Until late at night, the boy’s condition stabilized. Wenger had done all she could. Aika thanked her profusely, saying a lot, but Wenger barely listened. Stepping outside, she caught the lingering scent of blood and the acrid smell of burnt ruins.

She’d used fire to clear out the lesser monsters upon arrival, quickly extinguishing it afterward. Still, many houses had burned. Compared to total annihilation, this felt more like the “dawn before” described in fairy tales, after hardships were overcome. The starry sky was deep but obscured by smoke, revealing little light. The villagers continued their cleanup.

Wenger sat alone by the fire, lost in thought. She’d made a decision then. Using magic, she’d arrived at this southern village ahead of the cavalry squad. They, as planned, would head to Marshgar Village in another direction for patrol.