"I'm afraid you'd lose nine out of ten times, even if you fought with everything you had—and even then, it's still not guaranteed," Charion stated flatly.
He had seen Princess Roselle's strength firsthand. Even though he could tell that Leonel had grown significantly—perhaps even surpassing himself—he knew that the princess was currently on an entirely different level.
"Does that mean Roselle has already broken through to the eighth order?" Leonel asked, a frown forming on his face. "How the hell is she so fast? Does she also have a cheat skill?"
For a moment, an absurd thought crossed his mind.
Wait a second... Am I even the protagonist of this world?
This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to be the hero, the one who outpaced everyone else. But somehow, Roselle was breaking through faster than him. Was he unknowingly in a female lead story?
Charion sighed. "I don't understand what you mean by 'cheat skill,' but no—she isn't at the eighth order yet. She's only at the seventh, just like you. Maybe close to its peak, but that's not where her true power lies."
Leonel let out a relieved breath. If they were on the same level, then it wasn't impossible to catch up.
"Then what makes her so strong?" he asked.
"It's her weapon," Charion answered.
Leonel's relief shattered.
Weapon?
His mind raced. If it was just an ordinary high-grade weapon, then he could still compete—after all, his Demonic Ring had the potential to surpass any weapon with time.
"What grade is it?" he asked, wanting to be sure.
Charion hesitated before replying, "It isn't a mortal weapon, so it doesn't fall into your normal grading system. However, from the aura it emits, I'd estimate it to be at least eleventh or twelfth grade."
Leonel's body stiffened.
Eleventh? Maybe even twelfth?
That was a massive blow. He knew how Aelfhim worked—if Roselle had even a seventh-grade weapon, it would already be considered an unbelievable miracle. Yet now, she was wielding something leagues above that.
Charion continued, noticing his confusion.
"I can tell you don't understand the concept of mortal and non-mortal weapons," he said. "A mortal weapon is any weapon forged by mortals—humans, elves, demons, or any other race. However, non-mortal weapons are different. They aren't necessarily created by gods, but by beings of immense power. Some were made by ancient entities, others by mythical figures, and some are relics from forgotten ages."
Leonel swallowed. "So which category does Roselle's weapon fall under?"
Charion's eyes darkened slightly. "Mythical."
Leonel tensed. "You mean a legendary weapon?"
"You may not know, but it's called Excalibur—"
"—Excalibur?!" Leonel interrupted, his voice rising.
Charion tilted his head, surprised at his reaction.
"You mean the Excalibur? The legendary sword wielded by King Arthur? The dragon-slaying blade said to cut through gods and demons alike?" Leonel asked, his voice laced with disbelief.
Charion blinked. "So you've heard of it?"
Heard of it?
Leonel felt like he was about to faint. How in the hell did Roselle end up with something like Excalibur? Had he been mistaken all along? Was she actually Heaven's Favored and not him?
Charion continued, not paying attention to his breakdown.
"Your understanding of it isn't completely wrong, but not entirely right either," he said. "Regardless, that's the weapon that ensures your loss nine out of ten times. The only way you could win is if she was asleep, unconscious, or if you poisoned her before the fight even started."
Leonel's expression darkened. "You don't have to rub my wound on the salt—I mean, salt on my wound—ugh, forget it! Her kingdom is about to fall to Wilfharm, and when it does, I'll steal that sword!" He grinned mischievously.His expression darkened. If Aelfhim falls to Wilfharm, she'll lose everything—including Excalibur. A grin formed on his lips.
"I'll just steal it when the time comes," he muttered mischievously.
Charion snorted. "You still don't get it, do you? Excalibur isn't just any weapon. It chooses its wielder. Before you can even touch it, you'd need to be royalty, or at the very least have a pure heart and unwavering will."
Leonel's grin faltered.
"Your will to get stronger is commendable," Charion admitted, his golden eyes glinting with amusement. "But your heart is just as black as my fur."
Leonel scowled. "I have my own methods."
He dismissed the conversation and glanced at the floating status screen in front of him.Name: Leonel
Title: Hero / T*********R
Class: Hero
Str: 7th Order (10%)
Spd: 7th Order (5%)
Int: 7th Order (5%)
Phq: 7th Order (5%)
Mana: 7th Order (20%)
Evo Points: 35
Talents:
Quick Learning
Quick Adaptation
Hero's Will
Swordsmanship
Magic Affinity
Equipment:
11th-Grade Demonic Ring (Currently 7th Grade)
Skills: Demonic Summon (1/3), Demonic Absorption, Anti-Demonic Magic, Partial Transformation
9th-Grade Mirage Mask
Skills: Illusion, Concealing
Title: Hero (Effects:)
1. Increases luck.
2. Grants a pure heart.
3. Allows the learning of sacred or holy magic.
4. [Locked]
... [Locked]
Leonel clenched his fists. He was making progress, but it wasn't enough. He needed more.
Charion suddenly spoke up, his usual arrogance replaced by something different.
"Leonel... I think it's time I left," he said. His voice lacked its usual sharpness. "Ever since I met you, my growth has stagnated. The first time we fought, I was leagues above you. But now, you've surpassed me by too much."
Leonel raised an eyebrow.
"I see."
He had considered the same thing. Charion was an asset, but at the same time, their paths would eventually diverge. However, he wasn't ready to let go just yet.
"You're indispensable to me," he admitted. "If you stick with me, I promise I'll make you stronger than you could ever imagine."
Charion was silent for a moment. Then, for the first time, he let out a low chuckle.
"Fine. I'll stay," he said. "I'll stick around and see if I can still stand by your side when you reach the pinnacle of strength."
With those parting words, he disappeared into Leonel's shadow.
Leonel stood there for a moment, feeling strangely affected.
"...Where the hell did that come from?" he muttered, scratching his head.
Then, a mischievous grin crept onto his face as he turned his attention back to his Demonic Ring.
"Let's see if I can meet the Crown Prince of Wilfharm... and have a little chat with him."