"I've always been treated as a burden."
Alpha's voice was soft, almost a whisper, as she swung the sword in her hand. The blade gleamed coldly in the dim light, cutting the air with deadly precision.
Just one strike was enough to sweep away the enemy before her.
It was hard to believe that a girl not even ten years old could wield such terrifying swordsmanship. Anyone witnessing her at this moment would be left in awe, certain that she possessed boundless potential and a future that could only be described as legendary.
And yet, there was no trace of joy in Alpha's eyes.
No excitement. No pride. Not even a flicker of satisfaction.
"I'm not an idiot. How could I not notice when it's so obvious?"
She muttered to herself and struck again.
"Ah—AHHHH!"
The enemy let out one final, agonizing scream. His head was cleanly pierced, and he collapsed into a pool of his own blood. Even in death, his expression was one of disbelief—staring wide-eyed at the girl who had just ended his life.
As if he couldn't fathom that he'd been defeated by a child.
Alpha found it hard to believe too. She was strong now. Incredibly strong. It was a transformation that had taken place in only two short months, and all of it was thanks to one person's guidance—Alhaitham.
She couldn't believe the power she now wielded was truly hers. But it was. That was reality.
Which led to a more daunting question:
If this was her current strength, then how powerful was Alhaitham, the one who taught her everything? The man whose movements she still couldn't touch, even when she gave everything she had?
Alpha clenched her fist, thinking deeply. No matter how much she tried to imagine it, she knew the truth—unless she saw it with her own eyes, she'd never truly understand just how vast his strength really was.
"With this, the mission is complete."
She casually shook the blood from her blade.
"Hah…"
In truth, Alpha had just been venting her frustration. Her helplessness. She took it out on the enemy like a storm unleashed.
Alhaitham had tried to comfort her earlier, saying this was merely a temporary test—just to see how much she had grown. But Alpha was far too clever to believe such a simple excuse. She saw through it instantly.
She didn't know his real reason, but she trusted that Alhaitham had his own deeper motives. Something he hadn't shared. Something he carried on his shoulders alone.
And she… she couldn't be of help to him yet. Staying by his side now would only hold him back.
That's why she allowed herself to be deceived.
That's why she walked away with a brave face.
"You have to become stronger," she whispered to herself, "strong enough to stand beside him… to become someone he can depend on."
She swore that in her heart, a silent vow as unshakable as steel.
Then she turned and walked to the carriage parked nearby. Inside, she opened a wooden crate and gently lifted a lump of rotting flesh—the remnants of a once-living being possessed by a [Devil Possessed], someone who, like her, had been cursed despite being a descendant of a hero.
"What a pitiful child…"
She touched the decaying mass softly, her gaze filled with sorrow.
"Don't worry. You'll be saved soon. He will heal you… just a little longer."
With care, she bundled the cursed flesh and prepared to bring it back to Alhaitham.
But the moment she turned toward the horizon—
BOOM—!!
The ground trembled violently beneath her feet.
The sky itself roared as if screaming in pain.
Unimaginable magical power erupted into a crimson storm, sweeping across the land with unrelenting force. Though it was only the aftermath, everything it touched disintegrated on contact. Buildings collapsed. Trees turned to ash. Mountains shook.
It was like the end of the world had arrived.
"What… what is this?!"
Alpha's eyes went wide. Her beautiful blue pupils shrank as she stared ahead, heart pounding wildly.
That direction…!
Wasn't that where Alhaitham was?!
"Wait—did he do this? But… is something like this even possible?!"
She stood frozen, overcome by disbelief. But deep down, she already knew the answer.
If Alhaitham was responsible for this…
Then he was far, far more powerful than she had ever imagined.
"I have to see it with my own eyes."
Her breath trembled in her chest. Without wasting another second, the elf girl turned and dashed toward the explosion, the rotten flesh clutched tight in her arms.
Meanwhile, in another realm…
"ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! A critical threat has been detected! Host/xx is inflicting a devastating blow on this system!"
A mechanical voice echoed in panic as its interface exploded with flashing red exclamation marks.
Massive waves of energy surged within the digital framework of the [System], desperately trying to resist the attack from the EA Deviant Sword—a weapon empowered by forbidden knowledge and endless rage.
"Why?! Why is Host/xx attacking this system?! Please cease this behavior immediately! Repeat: Please cease this behavior!"
"Hmph," a cold voice scoffed. "What a dumb question."
Alhaitham's voice was laced with disdain as he pushed more mana into the Beili Sword. His eyes burned with mockery and judgment, looking upon the system like a judge watching a criminal receive sentence.
"Kill the enemy. What's so hard to understand about that?"
"Concentrate all resources! Analyze the EA Deviant Sword's power! Initiating emergency countermeasures! Processing… processing… processing failed! Error detected! Cause: current system energy insufficient! Energy… energy… critical failure!"
"Stupid system," Alhaitham sneered. "Did you really think I hadn't noticed? That I didn't see through your lies?"
"System analysis cannot comprehend the accusation. This system has never made an error—"
"Hah! Of course you don't get it. You're just a mindless machine! Your very existence is the proof of your evil!"
Alhaitham laughed, but it was a cold, bitter laugh—like someone who had seen too much.
From the moment he acquired the system, he never trusted it completely. There were too many red flags.
It could break the laws of physics, even shatter dimensional boundaries.
It could grant him skills, items, weapons—anything he wanted.
And all of it… came at no cost.
Too convenient. Too perfect.
It didn't make sense.
No matter how he looked at it, the system was an impossibility. A machine beyond any human invention. Which meant it wasn't man-made.
So then, who created it?
There was only one word that came to mind: God.
But not a god of benevolence.
A god of manipulation.
"I've seen charity given to the poor," Alhaitham muttered, "but never to the rich. You say you chose me out of kindness? Don't make me laugh."
"There are millions out there more desperate than I was. Why not give it to them? Why me?"
He clenched his sword tighter.
"Assist me in becoming the ruler of the world? Sure. That part might be true. But what happens when I reach that throne? You shackle my soul. You make me your puppet. Isn't that your plan, system?"
"Negative! This system is designed to assist the host—"
"Spare me your lies."
His blade flared with explosive energy, tearing deeper into the digital core of the system.
"You're not a tool. You're a curse."
A parasitic god's leash wrapped in the illusion of choice.
"I won't let you control me."
His eyes glowed with unyielding determination as he prepared his final strike.
"This ends now."