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Kael leaned back into the plush cushions of the sofa, his boots resting on the mahogany coffee table as he listened to the Dwarf Warlock deliver the briefing. The situation was a classic: the Demon King had been resurrected.
While the news had sent ripples through the kingdom, the general public remained oddly calm. These cycles of destruction and rebirth had happened for eons; ten years ago, a Gold-rank party had zeroed the last Demon King in a labyrinth. The world was a tabletop game for the Gods, and there was always a "Hero" with a divine buff ready to slay the boss.
Kael didn't care for the predetermined "Strings of Fate" that bound Heroes. He preferred the path of someone like Goblin Slayer—a man so "low-tier" that the Gods didn't even bother to roll the dice for him. That lack of attention was the ultimate freedom.
Kael took a sip of the tea provided by the Young Lady and immediately spat it across the room.
"What kind of sociopath adds chili oil to tea?!"
This was clear retaliation for the "Witch incident." The Young Lady remained stone-faced, her eyes fixed on the wall.
"I have put up with your ego for long enough!!" the Elf Archer screamed, jumping onto the table. Her face was now a disaster of tea and oil stains from Kael's accidental spray. Most Elves were obsessive about hygiene, and she looked ready to notch an arrow in his throat.
"My bad, my bad," Kael said, raising his sleeve to wipe her face.
The Elf froze. At over two thousand years old, she had never been this close to a human male. Her internal logic crashed, and she sat back down, her ears turning a vivid shade of crimson. She had just failed Kael's charisma check.
The Dwarven elders had forged Kael's Mithril sword, and now they were calling in the favor. A massive nest had formed on the border between the Elven forest and the human kingdom. If the Elves sent an army, the humans would see it as an invasion. If the humans moved, the Elves would suspect slave-traders. Kael was the neutral "Insurance Policy."
The squad traveled in a luxurious four-horse carriage, a perk of Kael's status that allowed them to bypass every border checkpoint.
"This is a joke!" the Young Lady fumed.
Kael had benched her at the border, leaving her to guard the luggage with the Griffin. He'd taken the Young Priest instead, as her "Protection" and "Purification" miracles were high-utility assets for a nest raid. The Young Lady couldn't understand why a "green" priest got to go while a noble swordsman had to sit with a big cat.
The nest was hidden in a mountain cleft, guarded by Goblin Wolf Riders. Domestication of predators was a sign of a "King" or "Hero" level leader—a Platinum-rank threat.
"Up to you, Miss Elf," Kael said as they approached at dusk.
WHIZ—
The Elf Archer's arrow pierced three Goblins and the lead wolf in a single trajectory. Despite her slender frame, her draw-weight was astronomical.
"Impressive," Kael noted. Her ears twitched pink again.
Goblin Slayer stepped forward, methodically disemboweling a corpse to mask their scent with Goblin blood. The Elf Archer screamed as he approached her with a gore-soaked cloth.
"Why doesn't he have to do it?" she hissed, pointing at Kael after her cloak was thoroughly ruined.
"I have my own thermal masking," Kael replied, activating his Blood Qi Power. His body began to radiate a soft, orange-red glow that incinerated any scent molecules before they could leave his skin.
"I'm an Archer! Why am I walking in front?" the Elf complained as they entered the spiral labyrinth.
"Because a Knight always watches the rear of his party," Kael teased, though he quickly moved to the front. "Watch the traps. Low-tier tripwires ahead."
As they descended, Kael noticed something. "No totems. There's no Shaman here."
If there was no Shaman, the Goblins shouldn't be this organized. It meant the "system administrator" of this nest wasn't a Goblin.
"Fresh tracks. Something heavy was dragged," Kael noted, picking up a broken Elven arrowhead. "Someone's already inside."
"I'm going ahead. Catch up if you can," Kael said.
BOOM.
The stone slab beneath his feet shattered as Kael detonated into a sprint. He became an orange-red blur, a human torch of boiling Blood Qi. The Dwarf and the Elf watched in awe as the "Kingdom Legend" finally showed his true torque.
Deep in the tunnels, two Goblins were dragging an unconscious Elf Scout toward the dungeons. She had been hit by a Troll—the true muscle of the nest. The Goblins were cackling, their eyes full of predatory malice.
In a heartbeat, their heads were gone.
Kael exhaled a plume of steam, kneeling beside the Scout. Her internal bleeding was severe. "You're safe now. I'm the Northland Knight."
"They... they are... coming..." she whispered.
Kael didn't turn around. He reached back, his blade igniting.
"Flame Breathing, Second Form: Rising Scorching Sun!"
A pillar of fire incinerated the fifty Goblins rushing down the hall. By the time the rest of the party arrived, the hallway was a charred graveyard.
"Are you hurt?!" the Elf Archer asked, rushing to Kael's side.
"Something is very wrong," Kael said, his voice full of sorrow.
"Where? Let the Priest heal you!"
"My boots," Kael pointed to a small bloodstain on his three-gold-coin leather. "I was reckless. The splatter hit the finish."
The Elf Archer stared at him for three seconds before trying to stomp on his foot. Kael dodged with a grin.
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