Ode to Death

Chaos Era, Year 1814.

Olie City.

Xia Lun walked down the street, the gazes of the surrounding townsfolk fixed upon him.

"Look, it's that adventurer!"

"I heard he was the one who defeated the dragon and brought back the Dragonblood Grass, curing the plague in the city."

"He’s quite handsome… and so young too."

"Is he really that strong? That bald giant next to him looks tougher, doesn’t he?"

"Rumor has it he’s blessed by the Goddess—a true hero…"

...

"Captain Xia Lun, you’re famous now," Moke remarked with a sigh.

"We were the ones who gathered the Dragonblood Grass, so why is all the credit going to Xia Lun?" Liyana grumbled, clearly displeased. She longed for attention too, especially from the cute girls in town.

She had already noticed the adoring looks many girls were giving Xia Lun.

"Because Xia Lun was the one who single-handedly took down that Crimson Dragon," Musen said, unbothered by the recognition.

Aina remained silent, her eyes fixed on Xia Lun’s back, her thoughts unreadable.

"Being famous… isn’t a bad thing. It means more commissions will come our way." Xia Lun clenched his fist, his expression full of determination.

"Eh? Really? I thought you were the type who didn’t care about fame," Liyana said, surprised.

"If I have this reputation, then I must live up to it—with the strength and conviction to match." Xia Lun’s gaze was resolute. "Reputation is a weapon too. We should use it to push ourselves further."

"Typical Xia Lun," Liyana muttered. "Born with the soul of a hero."

After Ankula developed the cure for the plague and mass-produced it based on the formula, the city quickly returned to normal.

With no immediate commissions, Xia Lun and his party decided to stay in Olie City for the time being.

Angelie, deeply grateful for Xia Lun’s contributions—and perhaps eager to befriend him—insisted they stay at the lord’s manor, treating it as their own home.

Free food and lodging? Liyana wasn’t about to refuse, especially with Lady Ankula around.

If Xia Lun objected, she’d throw a fit.

As his childhood friend, she knew a few of his weak spots.

...

The outskirts of Olie City.

What was once an elegant estate now lay in ruins, reduced to charred debris after Angelie ordered his soldiers to burn it down.

Beneath the wreckage, beneath a corpse turned to charcoal, a broken magic circle emitted a faint glow.

The ashes of the corpse slowly seeped into the circle.

BOOM—

The rubble above was suddenly blasted away by a surge of dark energy.

A slender figure gradually emerged from the magic circle.

Below the neck, the body was emaciated—a desiccated husk, skin stretched tight over bone, resembling a mummy stripped of its bandages.

Above the neck, a skeletal ram’s skull rested, pale soulfire flickering in its hollow eye sockets.

This grotesque creature looked frail, almost pitiful. No one would guess it was an eldritch deity from beyond this world.

Death Praise stiffly turned his head, surveying his surroundings before murmuring, "Success… the ‘Goddess’ didn’t notice."

Even the "Goddess" wouldn’t expect him to descend through such a crude, incomplete magic circle—and at an altered time, no less.

Not to mention, the summoner had been a complete amateur in magic.

For a being like him, this was the ultimate humiliation, a complete surrender of pride.

But it was worth it.

His world had been annihilated by the "Goddess." An endless tide of insects had devoured everything. He was the last of his kind, the sole survivor.

Death Praise bore no hatred toward the "Goddess." On the contrary, he was grateful.

For his race, death was the greatest destiny—the most glorious end. They lived only to seek the most meaningful death, to witness the sublime radiance of their final moments.

Suicide was disgraceful, condemned by their kind… but dying for their people? That was the noblest death of all.

The "Goddess" had elevated his entire race to transcendence.

So Death Praise was not here for vengeance.

He was here to repay her.

The "Goddess" and the natives of this world might never understand his actions, but Death Praise didn’t care. He would act according to his conscience.

Whether he slaughtered every living being in this world and killed the "Goddess," or she destroyed him instead—both were equally beautiful outcomes.

But right now, he lacked the strength to repay her.

First, he needed to regain his power.

Death Praise slowly lifted his head, sensing the presence of countless living beings ahead.

He would seize that place first—make it his stronghold—then slowly consume this world.

Raising a skeletal, branch-like finger, he flicked it, and a black robe wrapped tightly around his withered form.

Like a specter, he drifted toward Olie City.

...

Xia Lun, who had been strolling through the marketplace, suddenly stopped, his expression turning grave.

Beside him, Aina tensed, halting mid-step.

"What’s wrong with you two?" Liyana, oblivious, glanced between them in confusion.

"Nothing. Just lost in thought," Xia Lun said, shaking his head lightly.

For a fleeting moment, he had sensed something—an eerie presence entering the city.

The aura had been so faint he almost dismissed it as imagination… but Aina had reacted too. It wasn’t just him.

Better not to worry Liyana.

"Aina, what about you?"

"Lost in thought," Aina replied coldly.

"You two… even your daydreams are in sync?" Liyana rolled her eyes. She almost teased them about being "like husband and wife," but knowing the proud mage’s temperament, she wisely held her tongue.

"Come on, let’s go! I want to visit the tailor’s shop… Xia Lun, Aina, you’ll come with me, right?" Liyana asked, turning to Aina.

Xia Lun sighed inwardly. Every time he accompanied Liyana to places like this, misunderstandings followed.

And Aina? She didn’t seem the type to care about such things. Surely she’d refuse.

"Fine."

Aina’s answer caught him off guard.

Liyana gasped in delight.

"Really? Aina, you’ll come? Perfect! I’ll pick out the best outfit for you!"