Chapter 19: One Horned Demon (2)

After reviewing Beatrix’s stats and equipment, Blake realized he had never actually examined Sol’s stats.

The little creature had appeared at such an unexpected time.

Yet, Sol didn’t seem troubled by Blake’s earlier oversight.

He seemed to take pleasure in Blake’s strength and had even assisted him in battle!

All of this left him one genuinely happy golden apple.

Never in his entire gaming career had Blake encountered anyone with infinite health and mana.

This seemed impossibly overpowered, and he couldn’t help but focus on the tiny presence perched atop his helmet, emanating warmth and light.

Those infinite stats stemmed from Sol’s title.

Its rank fascinated Blake, who had always believed “legendary” to be the pinnacle. Yet here was a universe-grade title bestowing infinite vitality upon Sol.

It seemed Sol could not die.

His skill, Sunshine, felt underwhelming by comparison, merely granting ceaseless light and warmth to him and those Sol cherished.

Still, it could prove useful, especially in the winter tutorial zone where Blake would soon venture.

Compared to that universe-grade title, however, it significantly paled.

Blake, however, recalled how delighted his little apple had been when he helped dispel the darkness, prompting him to smile.

That memory was so endearing that he set aside any lingering misgivings about Sunshine.

No, he would embrace Sunshine as a valued addition to his team.

“You’re our little torch, aren’t you?” he said, raising his hand to gently poke his elemental.

As their bond deepened, Sol gleefully wriggled atop Blake’s head, his eyes shining brighter than ever.

While Sol basked in his contentment, Blake glanced over his shoulder at his familiar.

Beatrix lingered behind him, standing quietly in his shadow, watching his interaction with Sol. She inclined her head slightly to meet his gaze.

“Can you talk?” he asked.

Beatrix shook her head.

“I see. Your intellect remains intact, but your former abilities must be sealed, likely because I’m only level one—and so are you. We’ll need time to unlock them. Welcome to the team, Beatrix. I trust you’ll keep up with me until the end, and I look forward to having you at my side and witnessing your achievements.” Blake extended his hand.

His familiar shook it, nodded, and then saluted before melting into his shadow, as though it were ink-black water.

She had demonstrated a new skill, quite unlike what she had under the previous Lost King.

Perhaps she simply disliked bright illumination in this new form.

Her armor was dark, and it seemed she had inherited shadow- or darkness-based abilities. It was no surprise that she might detest excessive radiance.

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Once she vanished into his shadow, Blake murmured aloud, “My familiar and elemental are polar opposites… Well, Vargar, shall we look for the first piece of the crown?”

“Ye,” agreed Vargar, stroking his beard.

With Sol perched on Blake’s helmet, the trio proceeded toward the source of the golden radiance flooding the hall.

Their shadows stretched long behind them, but only one concealed a pair of emerald eyes that observed for a few moments before closing again.

The light ahead shone so brilliantly that Blake and Vargar narrowed their eyes as they approached the next chamber. Within, a perfectly hewn white stone block supported a black box roughly the size of a modern keyboard. The box’s lid swung open as soon as Blake stepped closer.

Inside lay a broken shard shimmering with rainbow hues, more vibrant than the surrounding golden glow.

“Beautiful craftsmanship,” murmured Vargar, closing his eyes as a faint smile curved his lips.

During all this, Blake’s and Beatrix’s keen scrutiny weighed on Vargar. The familiar likely mirrored her master’s caution, tracking the dwarf’s every move. As for Blake, Vargar was not surprised that he remained guarded.

What’s more, Vargar had confirmed Blake’s past.

Having been abandoned by his guild members and allies in the final battle against the leviathan, Blake surely carried deep scars that made him keep others at arm’s length.

The old dwarf met the demon’s eyes. “Do you remember our promise?”

“You mean that I’ll visit the Dwarven Kingdom and forge with you?” Blake asked.

“Ye.” Vargar nodded. “I’ll hold you to it.”

He turned and departed.

Perhaps that was for the best.

Yet this moment strongly reminded Blake of his former self.

He had once been a guild leader who hoarded top-quality items and challenged anyone who disagreed, determined to prove them wrong. He refused to let any treasure end up in hands incapable of unlocking its full potential.

Although beta testers were selected by precise criteria, a hierarchy inevitably emerged; no two players were ever true equals.

Blake had humbled so many others that he rose among the very best.

‘It’s frustrating… but it’s logical, isn’t it? I have the Aegis Blueprint. Only I can forge this. I don’t want to share it with anyone else. It makes sense for me to claim it entirely!’ Blake thought, feeling as though a devil perched on his shoulder, murmuring assent.

Yet an unexpected, more virtuous thought emerged—an angel, figuratively perched on the other shoulder.

He pivoted and called, “Vargar!”

“Ye?” the dwarf answered, pausing to meet Blake’s gaze.

For a few tense moments, Blake said nothing. Then he finally spoke:

“…This is tearing me apart. I feel you deserve more, but I don’t know how to proceed. The old me would have just taken this item without a second thought. That part of me… it pains me. I don’t want to repeat those mistakes. What should I do?”