From a Broken Engagement to the Northern Grand Duke's Son-in-Law

Roxen stared at the Minotaur before him, his face twisted with savage joy as he swung his sword in relentless arcs.

Slash—! Slash—!

Dark crimson Aura carved through the air, shredding the creature’s flesh. Blood sprayed in glistening arcs. Screams tore from its throat. Every fiber of its being begged for mercy.

Yet Roxen’s blade never ceased its dance of death.

“Die! Die! Die!”

Tears blurred his vision. Every heartbeat felt like torment in hell’s deepest pit.

Even after meeting his lord and learning a new cultivation technique, even after finding moments when he could smile, something deep within his chest churned with constant nausea.

How could he truly laugh? How could he find genuine happiness when his daughter, his wife, his neighbors had all vanished in a single night?

He couldn’t bury the past and live contentedly. So every day, he wore false smiles, spoke sparingly, and endured through sheer force of will.

Only one thing sustained him: the thought of entering the Demonic Realm and slaying Demonkin.

Vengeance was the thread that held his sanity together.

“But... but still!”

Roxen screamed like a man possessed, driving his sword forward with desperate fury.

Thunk—!

The blade sank into the Minotaur’s thigh with a wet, sickening sound.

“Gwaaaaaah!”

The creature’s agony echoed across the battlefield.

Watching its suffering through bloodshot eyes, Roxen wept.

A servant of the Demonkin—a minion of the very enemy that had obliterated his village—writhed before him in pain.

In that moment, Roxen felt everything at once: burning vengeance mixed with rage over how his daughter must have died.

And then—

Slash—!

He yanked his sword free and swung again.

But the beast refused to die quietly. It raised both massive fists and brought them crashing down toward him.

CRASH!

The ground shook and split apart. The earth beneath Roxen’s feet cracked, throwing him off balance.

“GWAAAAAAH!”

The Minotaur howled and swept its massive hand across the ground in a devastating arc.

“Urgh!”

The blow caught Roxen squarely, launching him into the distant wall.

BOOM!

Crack, crumble.

The thunderous impact buried him in stone and mortar. The structure collapsed from the shockwave, raining debris down on his head.

“Stop that monster!” one of the watching knights finally shouted. “Everyone, attack!”

The knights who had been frozen by the spectacle sprang into action, drawing their swords.

While they threw themselves at the Minotaur to buy time, Roxen gazed at the battle through fading consciousness.

His body refused to respond.

Reduced to this state by a single blow—pathetic.

Am I truly incapable of even proper revenge?

Roxen bit his lip in despair.

This wasn’t even one of the Twelve Nobles. Not a true Demon—not even one of its lieutenants. Just a lowly servant of the Demonkin.

And he couldn’t defeat such a creature, rendered helpless like this.

Why had the gods cursed him with such trials?

His fist clenched with what little strength remained. Frustration and bitterness consumed him.

Now that his battle-fury had cooled, overwhelming resentment surged through him.

I have to move... I have to move...!

How many times had he swung his sword? How many years had he trained?

Even if he couldn’t kill the Demonkin who took his loved ones, he had to destroy at least one of their servants.

Thud... thud...

Using every ounce of remaining strength, Roxen struggled to his feet. His Aura flickered weakly, his body trembled, but he kept walking forward.

One step. Then another.

Just as he took a third step, his legs buckled.

Thump.

Roxen barely maintained his balance, using his scabbard as a makeshift crutch. If he could just swing his sword one more time at that creature—just once.

But it seemed the gods wouldn’t grant him even that much.

Roxen ground his teeth in anguish.

Then, a quiet voice drifted from somewhere nearby.

“Looks like I’m late.”

Roxen’s eyes snapped open.

He knew that voice—the one person who had extended a hand to him in his despair and rage.

Louis Berg.

He walked forward with calm purpose, stopping before Roxen to survey the battlefield with silent, dark eyes.

Wind swept across the scene, carrying the thick scents of bloodlust, Aura, and gore.

“You only need to swing once?” Louis asked.

“Yes,” Roxen answered, his voice cracked but certain.

Louis nodded. Then slowly—deliberately—he drew an arrow.

The arrow rose into the air. One, two... ten arrows followed, hanging suspended in midair before beginning to rotate.

Whirrrrr—!

The arrows shrieked as they twisted through the air, their rotation forming a single, coherent shape.

A serpent-dragon.

Scales and killing intent merged into a massive beast that opened its maw and coiled upward with predatory grace.

But Louis didn’t stop there.

He wrapped the power of Hasilan—Death Veil’s divine artifact—around a second arrow.

In an instant, a Saber Tiger took form, its razor-sharp fur bristling as it roared with aggressive hunger.

“Imagine turning that cow into steak. It could feed an entire territory,” Louis observed with casual detachment.

He gestured silently. Both divine beasts charged simultaneously.

Roars and screams intertwined. The Minotaur’s counterattack, its howls of pain, and then—

Click.

The distinctive sound of an arrow nocking against a bowstring.

Louis Berg, the continent’s second-greatest archer, had entered the battle.

* * *

I observed the situation with cold calculation.

Roxen’s collapse, the Minotaur’s appearance, and how this entire crisis had unfolded—none of it surprised me anymore.

But one thing was crystal clear: that filthy cow had harmed one of mine.

“Looks like a beast needs putting down,” I muttered, then extended my hand to unleash the divine constructs I’d created.

Roarrr!

The Saber Tiger tore into the Minotaur’s thigh. Simultaneously, the serpent-dragon sank its fangs into the creature’s neck while coiling its tail around one massive arm.

“GWAAAAAAH!”

Slam! CRASH!

The Minotaur raised its fists in fury and pounded repeatedly at the divine beasts. 

But they seemed armored in enchanted steel, continuing their assault without taking meaningful damage.

Thoom—!

The Minotaur dropped to one knee.

Displeased with its disadvantaged position, it revealed murderous intent, grabbed the serpent-dragon, and yanked with all its might.

Riiip—!

The serpent-dragon tore apart and scattered across the ground in glittering fragments.

“Impressive,” I acknowledged with casual indifference.

The destroyed construct had reverted to arrow form. I infused it with Aura once more.

Writhe... writhe.

The serpent-dragon regenerated. Fresh Hasilan thread wound around the arrow, and the creature took shape again with renewed vigor.

Hisssss—!

It charged at the beast once more.

The Minotaur waved its hands frantically, continuing the fierce exchange with desperate energy.

Slam! Slam!

During this tremendous battle, I infused my remaining arrows with concentrated Aura and created thread serpents.

Thousands of them spread across the battlefield floor like a living carpet.

“Go.”

Hisss—

The thread serpents moved where I directed, writhing as they swarmed the Minotaur’s body, sinking their fangs deep and injecting paralyzing venom.

“GWAAAAAAH!”

The Minotaur screamed and fell to its knees.

But it had no intention of dying quietly—it clenched both fists and charged directly at me.

Finally, it brought its massive fists down toward my head.

I drove my fist up to meet its attack head-on.

BOOOOOOM!

The creature’s fists exploded in midair, shattering into bloody fragments.

“Now!”

At my shout, Roxen’s shoulders tensed.

The ground looked treacherous with pooled blood, and his legs seemed barely able to support him.

But his eyes held no wavering—only the single-minded determination to cut.

For his daughter. To answer that day’s dying screams. To take the first step toward justice.

“AAAAAAAHHHHH!”

Crimson Aura traced a perfect half-moon arc, tearing through the air like liquid fire.

Slice—!

A sharp, final sound rang out as the Minotaur’s neck twisted at an impossible angle.

The massive head traced a slow arc through the air.

CRASH—!

The heavy body slammed into the earth. The ground shook with the impact, and blood poured forth in dark rivers.

In the center of it all, Roxen stood trembling, supporting himself on his sword.

He looked up at the sky as if seeing someone there—someone he’d been waiting for across long, bitter years.

“One step,” he whispered.

His vengeance had finally taken its first step.

* * *

After the battle ended, Lovan’s knights approached the Minotaur’s corpse and began the grim work of cleanup while calculating the extensive damage.

Meanwhile…

“Mister!”

Python’s daughter came running frantically and threw herself into Roxen’s arms.

Hena hugged him with such force that he staggered backward, then she burst into tears.

“Waaah...! I thought you were going to die! Why do you have to push yourself so hard!”

Roxen looked down at the crying child in his arms, uncertain how to respond, fidgeting with uncharacteristic awkwardness.

“Hold her,” I said quietly.

Roxen finally reached out slowly and patted the child’s back with gentle care.

After several minutes of soothing comfort, she gradually stopped sobbing and looked up at Roxen with moisture-bright eyes.

“Don’t do that again,” she demanded.

“All right, I won’t,” Roxen answered with a faint smile.

Once the girl had calmed down and fallen asleep in his arms, Roxen asked me a question while holding her protectively.

“Why did you come here? There are others who need help too.”

“No particular reason. I didn’t expect something like this to happen in the first place.”

“Then you must hurry to the others. There might be more creatures like that one.”

Roxen spoke with serious concern. He feared that others of the gangs might transform into monsters like the fallen Minotaur.

I replied with a smile. “Don’t worry. There’s only one other monster that appeared, and Lea went there.”

I spoke while observing her through Clairvoyance.

Before coming here, I’d coordinated with Lea, and she’d headed to Lancelot’s location.

Right now, she was fighting the creature alongside Lancelot, just as planned.

“My fiancée happens to be a genius. The greatest on the continent, in fact.”

Lea Praha had already reached mid-level Master rank, and she was currently slaughtering our enemies.