I had said I wanted to negotiate with the Gold Skulls. But while that was technically true, I didn’t actually think they would agree to my demands. The only reason why I had put up that whole charade was because I wanted to gauge the strength of the bandit group.

  If their leader had been Sapphire Rank or higher, I would have reconsidered challenging them, and instead extricated myself from the cavern as quickly as possible. The same could be said if the number of men in their group had ranged in the thousands or more.

  But their boss was only a Platinum Rank [Berserker]. And while that was merely a Rank below Sapphire, the gap between a Platinum and a Sapphire was far greater than the gap between a Gold and a Platinum due to a variety of reasons.

  Not only that, but just based on the size of the cavern alone, I knew that there couldn’t possibly be more than two thousand bandits in the Gold Skulls.

  So I made my demands, and Baudric spat on my face in response. He attacked me, trying to kill me in one fell swoop. But I had prepared myself for battle long before entering the cavern, stabbing myself in the palm of my hand and casting a ritualistic blood magic spell to protect myself.

  It was a [Sacrificial Blood Barrier]. It used my own blood as the source of the barrier’s power, moving instinctively to protect me from just about any attacks that came my way. Ordinarily, the downsides of using this spell was that it would continuously inflict pain and damage to myself— on the open wound I had opened up in the palm of my hand. However, as a [Healer], I simply healed myself, preventing it from becoming a fatal wound.

  Of course, I could have simply cast [Protection Of Vindication] or another death magic protection spell. But I was acutely aware of the fact that Sister Frida was still alive back at our camp, and if she somehow regained consciousness, she would have been able to sense the overt casting of death magic spells from this battle. After all, [Priests], [Nuns], and anyone who was associated with the Church of Life was trained from a young age to recognize the aura of death magic, so they were more likely to discern it than any normal person.

  So the reason I had opted to use blood magic instead of ordinary death magic was due to the simple fact that it was far more subtle. That was part of the reason why no [Priest] or member of the Church of Life had been able to detect the source of the Blight— because its origins came from blood magic. The only reason why I had been able to sense it was because of my familiarity with blood magic from my past life.

  And since these blood magic spells I was casting drew power from my own body, the only residual mana in the air after the battle would be that of my own body’s mana. There would be no evidence that death magic was cast here.

  So I walked forward through the cavern, unconcerned about my true nature being detected as my [Sacrificial Bloodshot] zipped around me. Some bandits charged at me— they screamed as they used a Skill to close the distance; they would rally together in large groups as they tried to use their numbers to their advantage against me; or they would try to ambush me, hiding behind crates or boxes before leaping out to catch me by surprise.

  But it didn’t matter if they got close. When they swung out with their swords or their hatchets, a barrier of blood rose from the ground at my feet, protecting me from their strikes. Even if they swung as hard as they could— even if their blades blurred in five different directions. None of it mattered.

  This was a protection spell on par with a Sapphire Rank’s Skill. These Bronzes and Silvers— some of them even Gold— would not be able to even scratch me.

  And before they could even realize that their attacks failed, they would be cut down by my [Sacrificial Bloodshot] an instant after. It didn’t matter if they wore armor or they raised their shields. The small sphere of hardened blood just pierced through everything, striking them all straight at their hearts.

  Of course, it wasn’t just [Warriors] that filled the crew of the Gold Skulls. Their [Archers] hid in the shadows, loosing arrows at me. But their arrows shattered against my barrier, before they too were cut down.

  And when hundreds of them lay dead in my wake, they started to realize that fighting back was hopeless. They tried to run. But I didn’t give them a chance to flee. I conjured up a second [Sacrificial Bloodshot], sending it straight for the cowards as they made a break for the exit of the cave.

  The bandits— their bodies fell all around me. Their screams echoed throughout the cavern. Every single one of them would be slaughtered. All the while, I just strode forward.

  ***

  Frank ran further into the cave, his heart hammering in his chest as he heard the cacophony of screams and shouts coming from the way he came. But he didn’t look back, even as he made his way through the encampment of wooden huts and tents set up inside of the cavern. He just knew he had to get back to his laboratory at the other side of the camp and put a stop to this massacre.

  He might have been small and scrawny compared to the other members of the Gold Skulls, but there was a reason why he was the fourth-in-command of the Gold Skulls. Because he was a Gold Rank [Alchemist]. Not to mention a high-leveled one at that.

  He was Level 43— even higher-leveled than either Yannik or Caspar who were the second-in-command or third-in-command. Practically on the precipice of a Platinum Rank, Frank would often spend most of his days in his lab, concocting new different alchemical potions.

  Occasionally, he would be joined by Yannik. The [Trapmaster] was capable of creating powerful poisons with his [Advance Poison Concoction] Skill— but he was limited by his lack of alchemical knowledge in general. And while Frank himself was not a master at creating poisons, he was able to aid Yannik even stronger poisons than the [Trapmaster] otherwise could by making up for any missing knowledge or providing the alternative ingredients to enhance the poison’s effects.

  Instead, Frank himself was a master of creating potions that enhanced physical Attributes. Even right now, he downed a Haste Potion he had made himself as he made his way back to his lab. Because in his lab, there was a potion he had crafted that was beyond his level, only because he had access to ingredients that were extremely rare and valuable.

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  As Frank turned the corner, just about to reach his lab, he nearly ran headfirst into a tall and muscular man. It was Bruno— the fifth-in-command to the Gold Skulls. Another Gold Rank who was nearly as large as Baudric had been.

  “What’s going on, Frank?” Bruno asked, yawning as he scratched the back of his head. “Gracious Goddess, what’s with all the commotion?”

  Frank gritted his teeth, not wanting to waste his time with explanations. So he just shook his head and stepped around the muscular man.

  “It’s an intruder— go stop them!” Frank said simply as he made a dash for his lab which was just a dozen feet away, neglecting to mention the fact that the intruder was killing everyone in the Gold Skulls.

  “R-right—” Bruno moved.

  Frank reached his lab a moment later and slammed the door shut behind him. He activated a protective enchantment, although he doubted that it would stop the intruder.

  The Bloodied Blade. The leader of the Blood Swords. How were they so strong?

  Frank didn’t know, but he just made his way to the back of his lab, practically knocking the dozens of potions and vials he had set up on the various tables he had set up in the room. He reached a chest at the back of the room, fumbling for a key in his pocket.

  He heard the muffled screams continuing to erupt in the distance. Each scream was growing louder— echoing closer and closer to the lab. Not only that, but they were growing far and few in-between, compared to the orchestra of cries that resounded at the start of the massacre.

  Shaking his head, Frank steeled himself and inserted the key onto the magical chest with his trembling hands. It took him two tries, but he finally managed to turn the key, before hearing a click. He flung the chest open and didn’t even pause to take a look at the shining blue elixir that was within.

  Instead, he simply downed it as he heard Bruno’s agonized scream of terror resound from just outside the lab. He drank it all down as he heard a heavy thud slam onto the door to his lab, smashing it open.

  Glancing back, Frank watched as the door splintered into a hundred broken wooden pieces. Bruno’s lifeless corpse lay at the ruins of the broken door, and the masked figure stepped into the room. They swept their gaze around the edges of the room, eyeing the green vials of liquid that were held up by the potionstands.

  “So you’re the [Alchemist] who’s responsible for creating that poison, huh?” the Bloodied Blade said curiously. “And here I thought that fat man was the one responsible for making it.”

  That fat man? Does he mean Yannik? Frank narrowed his eyes as he turned to face the masked figure. So that’s what happened to those two idiots… they’re the reason why this monster has been unleashed upon us. But it’s no matter…

  Taking in a deep breath, Frank felt a surge of power wash over him. His body tensed, before beginning to discolor and misshapen. His muscles bulged as the veins on his face popped. He grinned as he spread his arms wide.

  “You’re too late,” Frank said as he held up the empty bottle in his right hand. “With this Potion of Transformation, I can transform myself into a creature far more powerful than even Baudric had been.”

  “Oh?” The masked figure tilted their head as Frank cackled, growing larger.

  His legs began to transform to that of hooves, and his skin blackened. His eyes began to glow red as horns protruded from his head. He grew even taller, until his back reached the ceiling of the room. He huffed as he smashed the empty bottle onto the ground, and his voice distorted into a growl.

  “That’s right, with its power, I can transform into a Sapphire Rank monster that will even strike fear into the hearts of an Inquisitor. With it, I can become a minotaur—” Frank started, only to be promptly cut off.

  “[Execution Of The Living].”

  The masked figure spoke simply as they flicked a hand out horizontally. A black scything blade shot out, slicing Frank from the waist down in an instant. The blade continued past him as it tore the wall open, tearing the entire room in half. But that was not all, it continued digging into the rock wall of the hill as the [Alchemist] tried to process what just happened.

  And then he could only wheeze as his upper body dropped to the ground, followed by the ceiling collapsing all around him.

  “W-what…?” the [Alchemist] tried to muster up his voice as his body began to return back to its normal shape.

  The masked figure just strode forward, grabbing one of the vials of poisons as they spoke casually.

  “Thanks for standing still and blabbering on for me— you honestly could’ve caused me some trouble there if I had let you finish your transformation. But now…”

  They came to a halt before Frank who was just craning his neck back, still trying to understand what went wrong. And that was when the [Alchemist] saw that not only had the scything blade dug into the wall of the cavern, it had also cleaved through hundreds of feet of rock and dirt and shot out the other side of the hill, flying into the night sky.

  He stared at the slit-like window that gave a glimpse of the moon, created from the attack the masked figure had cast. And then he looked back towards the masked figure.

  “But now, I don’t really have to worry about you, do I? Since you’re back to being a weak [Alchemist].” The Bloodied Blade chuckled, before looking through the cleaving hole he had opened up in the wall of the hill. “I just hope that Frida’s actually unconscious and didn’t sense that death magic spell, because then I’d have done all this for nothing.

  Frank tried to work his jaw. “H-how—”

  But right as Frank opened his mouth, the leader of the Blood Swords uncorked a vial of poison and poured it down the [Alchemist]’s throat.

  Frank gargled and coughed, but it was already too late. He had ingested the poison into his system, and he could feel its effects immediately taking place. He groaned as he clutched at his throat, before turning over where he lay. Even though he was already dying from being sliced in half, he couldn’t help but panic from consuming the poison.

  Perhaps it was instinct, or maybe it was that he hadn’t fully even processed that he was already bleeding out. But he desperately reached for a vial of fallen white liquid, trying to uncork it and down it as quickly as he could.

  But right as he opened his mouth, the masked figure snatched it from his hand.

  “Ah, so that’s the antidote to the poison, huh? I’ll be taking that.”

  “W-wait—” Frank started as he reached out in desperation.

  However, he broke out into a coughing fit as the poison’s effects continued to take hold of him. His body began to grow numb as he could only stare at the back of the leader of the Blood Swords walking away. They stepped over the hundreds of corpses, practically dismissing the destruction and death that they had caused to the Gold Skulls.

  Even though they were one of the most notorious bandit groups in all of the Sanctus Empire, they had all been slaughtered by a mere child. But how? How was that even possible? Unless—

  Frank’s mind raced in a haze, thinking of the possibilities. And his eyes widened as he realized who this child could be. That power… it must belong to—

  “Oh, right.”

  The masked figure suddenly came to a halt and craned their neck back. They pointed a finger at Frank as his eyes widened.

  “Gotta make sure you’re actually dead, or else you’ll tell someone about this.”

  And then a ball of blood shot out straight for the [Alchemist] as a final thought crossed his mind.

  …the Death God—

  Then there was nothing left of the Gold Skulls.