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MMORPG GODS GARDEN
DEVILS MERCHANT

DEVILS MERCHANT

Rex's breath came in sharp bursts as he raced through the winding alleys of Blue Wind Town. The sound of shouting Rising Solutions members echoed in the distance, their pursuit relentless, but he didn't slow down. His mission hadn't changed: get to Moon Valley, find the priest, and complete the Demon's Trial of Blood. The stakes were higher than ever, and failure would not be an option.

He darted through an alley and then onto a more open path, but he could feel the heat of their chase closing in. No matter how fast he ran, he knew they were getting closer. His mind raced, calculating his next move.

The ground beneath his feet shifted as he veered off the path and into a more secluded area of the forest. The familiar town sounds faded, replaced by the whisper of wind and the rustling of trees. He'd managed to shake his pursuers, but now there was something else calling to him—a deeper pull, a sense that something waited for him just beyond the next curve in the valley.

As Rex continued forward, the trees grew thicker, the shadows deeper. The faint echo of footsteps behind him no longer made him glance over his shoulder; something else was here, something far more significant than his enemies.

He came to a clearing, his eyes narrowing as he saw a figure standing in the shadows of the trees. The figure was draped in tattered black robes, his presence commanding and ominous. Red eyes glinted from beneath a dark hood, watching Rex with unsettling patience.

The figure stood motionless, as if the shadows themselves clung to him, wrapping him in an aura of unease. His robes were a deep black, but they seemed to shimmer with hints of dark crimson when caught by the light, like ink spreading on water. His gaunt face was pale, almost sickly, with sharp features that gave him an unsettlingly inhuman look. A high collar rose from the back of his robes, obscuring much of his neck, but it was the eerie glow of his eyes—fiery red—that truly captivated Rex. Those eyes felt as though they could see straight into his soul, peeling back layers of fear, regret, and the darkness he'd never fully acknowledged.

Rex slowed his pace, instincts screaming for him to be cautious. This wasn't just any stranger. There was something unnatural about this figure, something ancient. The merchant's gaze never wavered, and despite the danger Rex sensed, a strange pull drew him forward.

The figure's lips parted in a small, knowing smile that sent a chill down Rex's spine. "You've come," the figure said, his voice deep and smooth, like the draw of a blade through flesh. "I've been waiting for you, Demon's Chosen One."

Rex froze, the words hitting him like a slap. Demon's Chosen One?

He had heard the rumors—whispers about those marked by the demon's blood, chosen for a dark fate. But Rex never believed he was one of them. He was an assassin, a blade for hire. That was all he had ever been. Yet, here he was, in front of a man—or whatever this was—who knew something about him that he didn't fully understand.

The figure chuckled, as if reading Rex's thoughts. "Don't be so surprised. The demon's blood runs through you. It always has. Your journey, your choices, all of it has been part of a greater plan—a plan that brings you here, to this very moment."

Rex's fingers tightened around the hilt of his blade, but he didn't make a move. He was wary, but his curiosity and desperation for answers kept him rooted to the spot. "What do you want from me?"

The merchant's gaze never left him, and his smile widened, though there was no warmth to it. His eyes gleamed like pools of burning coals, flickering with malevolent knowledge. "What I want, assassin, is to offer you a gift. A tool. A way to fulfill your destiny." He lifted his hands slowly, and a sense of power filled the air around them, suffocating and suffused with ancient, dark energy.

The merchant's robes shifted, almost as if they were alive, the shadows twisting around him as he produced a black velvet pouch, its surface gleaming faintly with a strange, almost liquid sheen. He tossed it toward Rex, and the assassin caught it instinctively.

Inside, Rex felt the weight of several objects, their shape unmistakable. Metal, sharp, deadly.

"These," the merchant continued in a low, deliberate voice, "are Poison Daggers—five in total. Forged from the bones and remnants of those who failed their trials. Silent, swift, and deadly."

Rex opened the pouch, pulling out the first dagger. It gleamed a dull metallic bronze, its hilt intricately designed with a dark symbol, twisted and enigmatic. The blade had an eerie green tint to it, as though it had been steeped in something more sinister than ordinary poison.

Poison Daggers (Bronze, Rare)

Type: Weapon (Melee, Set of 5 Daggers)

Damage: 10-15 Physical Damage (each dagger)

Effect: Each strike applies Toxic Venom, causing the target to suffer 8 Poison Damage per second for 7 seconds.

Bonus: Critical Hits trigger Double Toxic Damage over 5 seconds.

Durability: 50/50 per dagger

Description: Forged from the bones of fallen warriors, these daggers are coated with a deadly poison. The venom is slow-acting, causing an agonizing death that often takes the victim unaware. Ideal for silent assassins, they leave no trace but the slow and painful death that follows.

Rex's fingers closed around the dagger's hilt, the weight of it familiar, yet heavier than before. His eyes flicked to the other four daggers inside the pouch—each one just as deadly. He didn't need to ask how they worked. He knew.

The merchant's smile twisted, his lips curling slightly as he watched Rex's reaction. But there was no time for more words. The merchant's voice suddenly dropped to a low whisper, thick with dark intent.

"Now you may wonder why I'm helping you. Why I, a humble merchant, offer you such gifts. But you see, Rex, this is not of my own doing. It is not by my will alone. I serve powers greater than myself—powers that have chosen you for this path. Your fate is bound to the demon's blood, and you will play the role assigned to you."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Rex's eyes narrowed, and he couldn't hold back his suspicion. "Who… who are these powers? Why me?"

The merchant's red eyes glowed brighter, and his smile only deepened. "Ah, the questions come, but the answers are not yet yours to hear. All in due time, assassin. All in due time. But know this: you are the Chosen One of the Demon. The trials, the cave, the relic, and the priest in Moon Valley—they are all part of your fate, and I am simply a guide along your way. There is more at stake here than you realize."

Rex clenched his jaw. The weight of the merchant's words pressed on him, but he couldn't shake the unease creeping through him. There was something larger at play, something that had been set into motion long before he'd come to this point.

The merchant's voice remained calm, but his tone had an edge now, as if savoring the last moments of the conversation. "You have been marked, Rex. And now you must walk the path laid out for you. These daggers… and others to come… will serve you well. Use them wisely. But beware, for the powers that seek to control you are not so easily escaped."

Rex's fingers brushed the daggers once more, then he nodded silently. There was no escaping it now. The deal had been struck, and with it came a new weight. His path forward was dark, but it was his to walk.

Rex felt the weight of the daggers in his hand. He didn't need to be told what they were for. Poison, deadly and insidious. They would serve him well against the golems in the cave—silent, precise, and deadly. With five daggers, he would have more than enough to ensure that his enemies didn't stand a chance.

"These will be invaluable to you," the merchant continued, his voice low. "But you'll need to be swift, Rex. You'll need the advantage to reach the relic first and face what's ahead." He glanced at Rex's grip on the daggers, his eyes gleaming. "And if you need a little extra speed to make sure you're the first to strike... well, there is one more gift."

The merchant reached into his robe and pulled out an ancient, twisted amulet, its shape almost indistinguishable from a twisted fang. He handed it to Rex without a word.

Rex felt an odd heat surge through him as he grasped it, the cold amulet now warm in his palm. He could sense the dark power flowing through it, but the merchant's cryptic words left him uncertain about what it could do.

"This amulet," the merchant said slowly, "is not just a trinket. It contains the essence of a demon, bound to this world through sacrifice. When you wear it, it will increase your speed for short bursts, allowing you to strike swiftly, as if the winds themselves carry you."

The amulet's power was subtle, almost imperceptible at first. But Rex could feel it, like the stirring of a forgotten force, awakening inside him. He knew it was the right tool to accompany the daggers, offering him the perfect balance of speed and poison.

Demon's Fang Amulet (Special Item)

Type: Accessory

Effect: Grants a one-time boost of +30% Movement Speed and +15% Attack Speed for 10 seconds after activation.

Cooldown: 10 minutes.

Description: A cursed relic of an ancient demon, its power can only be invoked once per hour. When activated, the wearer becomes faster than the eye can follow, allowing them to execute lightning-fast strikes and evade enemy attacks with ease. The price for using it is steep, however—its effects are not without consequence. Prolonged use may corrupt the user's soul, drawing them closer to the demon's will.

Rex nodded, his resolve firming. This was more than just power—it was his destiny, drawn out by the forces beyond his control. The cave, the relic, the priest—he was moving toward something far greater than he had ever anticipated.

"Go now," the merchant urged, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. "The golems await you, but these gifts will serve you well. Use them wisely."

Rex didn't need another word. He turned, pocketing the Poison Daggers and the Demon's Fang Amulet, and with a final glance at the merchant's dark form

The merchant's laughter echoed through the trees as his form faded into the shadows, melting away like smoke in the wind. Rex stood there for a moment, his grip still tight on the bronze daggers, trying to process what had just transpired. The weight of the moment pressed down on him—he was no longer just an assassin. His fate had been sealed, his destiny entwined with something far darker than he could have imagined. The merchant's cryptic words lingered in the air like a thick fog, and the presence of the demon's blood in his veins pulsed faintly in his chest, like an awakening force.

But it wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

As the last trace of the Devil's Merchant disappeared, the woods around him felt suddenly colder, as if a heavy presence had descended. The very air seemed to thicken, pressing in on him, suffocating him with an invisible weight. Rex shuddered, instinctively reaching for his blade, but something deeper, more primal, told him to stay alert.

He couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't alone.

The trees rustled, their shadows seeming to stretch unnaturally, flickering like restless spirits. Every crack of a branch or rustle of leaves seemed amplified, echoing in the stillness of the forest. Rex's heart beat faster. It wasn't just the golems in the cave that made his skin crawl—it was something else, something deeper.

A cold, creeping sensation crept along the back of his neck, like fingers brushing against his spine. His eyes darted nervously to the dark corners of the clearing, but there was nothing there—nothing physical, anyway. Still, the hairs on his arms stood up.

Then he felt it. A presence.

A dark, oppressive energy that filled the very air around him. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he could feel it. The demons. They were watching him.

Rex's breath hitched as a low growl seemed to vibrate through the air, too low to hear, but powerful enough to be felt in his chest. His instincts screamed at him to move, to act—but he was frozen in place, gripped by an overwhelming sense of being watched.

The merchant's words echoed in his mind, now taking on a more sinister tone. "The powers that seek to control you are not so easily escaped."

Rex tightened his grip on the daggers, his pulse racing. He could feel their eyes on him—unseen, but ever-present. It was as though the very forest itself was alive with dark intent, watching him with malicious curiosity.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry, but his mind was racing. The demons are waiting. They were waiting for his results, watching him, assessing his every move.

A cold laugh—inhuman and mocking—slithered through the shadows, a soft whisper against his ear. Rex spun around, but the clearing was empty, save for the eerie whispers of the wind through the trees. Still, he could feel them—eyes, watching him, from every direction, from places he couldn't see.

His heart pounded in his chest as the unease grew. There was no escape from this. The demons, the powers above, the ones who had set him on this cursed path—they were all waiting for him to complete the trials. His every action, his every choice, would be judged.

Rex felt the weight of it all, the knowledge that he was part of something much larger, something far darker. But it wasn't just that—it was the feeling of being nothing more than a pawn in a game whose rules were unknown, whose consequences were more than he could bear.

A chill ran down his spine as he slowly began moving again, heading toward the cave entrance, trying to shake off the sense of creeping dread. Every step felt heavier, the air thicker, as though the shadows themselves were closing in on him.

The golems guarding the cave ahead didn't seem to notice him at first, but Rex knew they would. Soon enough, the trial would begin, and he would have no choice but to face it. His task was clear—find the relic, defeat the priest, and continue the path laid out for him.

But somewhere deep inside, Rex knew it wasn't just about the trial anymore. It was about the demons watching his every move. His every choice would determine whether he lived or died, and whether he was the one to continue the dark legacy… or whether he would fail, like so many before him.

He couldn't escape the feeling that the eyes of the demons were always there, always watching. And the weight of their gaze pressed on him like a thousand unseen hands.

The game had begun. And Rex was their chosen player.

Author note :hello guys i hope you like the story i am dark eye it is my pen name if you like this wanna by me a coffe can contact me through email [email protected] and my line id darkeye2326 you can get advance chapters if you contact me thank you.can accept any ideas from you guys.