Dark Fantasy Normalized

Asking a personal favor from someone you had just tried to kill.

It took a fair amount of courage.

Lisir admired Rodan’s shamelessness.

Of course, he didn’t show it outwardly.

After all, the death of the cultist didn’t negate the Swordmaster’s overwhelming brute strength.

Pointing out that shamelessness would have been like poking a madman who possessed more power than they could ever handle.

Rodan’s power was pure, unlike his reckless mind.

In terms of sheer purity of magical energy, he surpassed even Sir Meltas and any strong being Lisir had met until now.

In other words, he was one of the most powerful "enemies" Lisir had ever encountered.

And yet, unlike when facing black magicians, there was no way to gain an advantage through elemental superiority.

In this situation, it was wisest to concede one step and live to see another day.

If he was going to join a cult anyway, he could have just gone and met some demons and dabbled in dark magic properly. What an unsociable guy.

Lisir pushed aside his irritation and thought carefully.

What was the best move now?

Assume as a base premise that if they refused Rodan's request, he'd start kicking people again and throwing pebbles around.

But even accepting the request could take different forms.

Lisir checked the condition of his companions. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

The one in the best shape was Balrod.

Although he had been caught in his own fire magic, he showed almost no burn damage.

However, being hit when Shakan came flying at him had taken a toll, leaving his once rigid posture noticeably slumped.

Next was Shakan.

Not being a flame mage, she didn't have enough resistance to fire.

Traces of the flame magic lingered across her body: her skin was swollen red, the fur at the tips of her ears and tail was singed.

As a bonus, a handprint was clearly visible on her neck, and she was hunched over clutching her stomach where she had been kicked.

Lastly, there was Maldad.

At a glance, he looked the most critically injured.

Having taken the Swordmaster’s pebble bombardment head-on, he was, to put it bluntly, a complete wreck.

Strictly speaking, though, none of them had suffered fatal wounds or irreversible damage.

Given their strength and vitality, a period of rest and recovery would see them fully healed.

Considering that the Swordmaster had only used his feet and pebbles, it could even be said that Rodan had been merciful.

The problem was that even these "non-critical" injuries were unnecessary in the first place.

Moreover, if the situation hadn’t reversed when it did, it would have only been a matter of time before the Swordmaster drew his blade and stained it with blood.

There was far too much resentment to accept his request willingly.

Lisir intended to agree to Rodan’s favor—but in return, he planned to extract as much compensation as possible.

Of course, a negotiation could only happen between equals.

A deer could not propose terms to a wolf.

Rodan, if he wished, could snuff out their lives at any moment.

There was no way a negotiation could be established in such a situation.

Lisir, logically, should have been in the position of begging for his life before even dreaming of bargaining.

However—

"Damn. I’ve never been in this kind of situation before, so I don’t know what to say. Lisir, you said it, didn’t you? That you wanted to help me in place of that cultist?"

Lisir caught a faint hint of hesitation beneath Rodan’s otherwise shameless demeanor.

It was subtly different from the domineering attitude he showed toward others.

He’s wary of me. Because he’s afraid he might not get the help he needs? No. That’s not it.

In the brief time he had observed, Lisir understood clearly.

This Rodan wasn’t the type to nervously worry about whether someone would agree to his request.

He was the type to whip out his pebble shotgun if words failed.

Yet right now, he wasn’t fiddling with pebbles or reaching for the sword at his waist.

Gestures.

The overwhelming body that had unleashed raw violence before was now only being used to vent frustration.

From Rodan’s actions, Lisir successfully inferred one crucial truth.

He’s wary of the power I possess.

Humans fear what they do not understand.

For Lisir, it was Rodan’s absurd brute strength.

And for Rodan, it must be Lisir’s purifying power.

—This dumb human doesn’t even know how to properly ask for a favor! If you don’t know, allow me, Dangaleon, faithful servant of Chuinni, to teach you! Bow your head and pay homage before the name of Chuinni!

The very power that caused Dangaleon to cling and Maltiel to tremble.

"If you want me to bow my head, you’ll have better luck trying force instead of words."

Rodan let out a short laugh at Dangaleon’s outburst.

He didn’t seem particularly offended—only vaguely exasperated.

That reaction confirmed Lisir’s suspicion.

This guy... he’s definitely wary of my power. He's treating me as an equal.

Lisir knew exactly how to handle this kind of situation.

A beast shows respect only to a stronger being, not to a polite one.

If he showed weakness now, he would only provoke the worst possible outcome.

Lisir smiled leisurely.

"You probably already know this, but you don’t need to pay too much mind to what Dangaleon says. By the way, what should I call you? I believe your name was Rodan. Would it be fine if I called you that?"

On the surface it sounded polite, but in practice, it wasn’t much different from saying "I'll call you whatever I want."

Rodan’s eyebrow twitched slightly—but that was all.

"Yeah. Call me whatever you want. I’ll call you whatever I like too."

"Very well, Rodan. Now, let’s get back to the main point. As I said, I will offer you assistance in place of the cultist. But before that, may I ask you one thing?"

Now the tongue gets long...

Rodan didn’t bother to hide his growing irritation.

And with it, the atmosphere of the room changed.

Lisir felt a heavy pressure settle on his shoulders, as if his whole body’s hair stood on end.

The presence of someone who had crossed into the eighth circle—the realm of superhumans—was suffocating him.

Whoa, he's unsheathing the lid this early?

The blue breathing technique, honed through countless brushes with death, kicked in brilliantly.

Though Lisir inwardly felt the crushing pressure, his tightly controlled breathing suppressed any outward sign of emotion.

Thus, in Rodan’s eyes, he remained simply a young man smiling calmly under pressure.

A stark contrast to the three companions behind him, who flinched visibly at Rodan’s killing intent.

Rodan swept his gaze over Lisir and the others and gave a small nod.

Yes. This Lisir was definitely different.

Smile.

Rodan retracted his murderous aura as if nothing had happened and gave a light chuckle.

"What do you want to ask? Go ahead."

"It’s about your partnership with Dranoff. For the record, I have no intention of criticizing you for it."

Because there was no point trying to lecture someone who clearly didn’t play by the rules.

"I’m simply curious. Dranoff promised to help you save your friend, didn’t he? Then what did you promise Dranoff in return? Surely someone like him wouldn’t just ask for bodyguard duty."

Upon grasping Lisir’s intent, his companions could not hide their shock.

He was questioning the price Rodan had paid to Dranoff.

Indirectly asking what price he, Lisir, could demand in turn.

Trying to negotiate as equals with that brute of a Swordmaster...

The three could only click their tongues in astonishment at his nerve.

And then Rodan's reaction stunned them once more.

"Hahahaha!"

Rodan burst out in cheerful laughter.

"What the hell, man. Earlier when you were talking about saving me from the wicked touch of demons, I thought you were just some softheaded dreamer. Turns out you actually know how to think straight."

What part of that pleased him so much?

Now, when Rodan looked at Lisir, even a hint of affection sparkled in his gaze.

Along with strong curiosity—and competitive spirit.

Lisir felt as if a wolf were circling him.

"Yeah. I like this better too. Give and take. Keeps things clean, no grudges."

Rodan pulled a small pouch from his belt and tossed it to Lisir.

"Here. This is what Dranoff asked for in return."

—Chu... Chuinni...!

Dangaleon cried out in horror.

—Master! I can feel a vile aura from that pouch!!!

"A vile aura?"

What would be considered vile to a demon?

Was it some kind of holy relic?

Lisir opened the pouch and checked the contents. It was a small box, just the right size to hold a ring.

He strengthened his grip and opened the box.

***

─────

[Darkness tries to engulf you.]

[You resist.]

['Trait: ???' pushes back the darkness.]

[The darkness thrashes.]

─────

"Hm?"

It was a strange sensation.

It felt as if something inside the box was struggling desperately to keep it from opening.

"Won’t open, right?"

"What is this?"

"I was wondering that too. I meant to ask once things settled—"

Rodan turned his gaze to Dranoff, who now lay cold and dead.

"Anyway, it’s definitely a rare item.

I stole it from a grand noble’s warehouse."

"..."

Wait.

Did something outrageous just pass by like it was nothing?

Lisir quietly tucked the pouch into his cloak.

He would return it to its rightful owners later if he got the chance.

"Well, are you satisfied?"

Rodan pressed him with a look.

Lisir nodded.

"Good.

Then let’s get going."

Rodan led Lisir to the place where his friend awaited.

─────

[Title: Hey guys, anyone know what's inside this box?]

Content: [Photo]

Tried opening it and it asked, [Are you sure you want to open it?]

It freaked me out so I just left it closed.

- This guy's a pro gamer for real...

- Bro's got danger sense lmao

- Professional survival instinct

-[Author]: lololol

-[Author]: So what the hell’s inside?

- If you open that, you get a fragment of a Great Demon lol

-[Author]: Fucking knew it lolol

-[Author]: So what happens if you take the Great Demon fragment?

- Are you bragging without even knowing what it is?

-[Author]: I mean, the name alone sounds like bullshit...

-[Author]: Just looking at it, feels like it'll trigger one of those [The Thing devours your Whatchamacallit] nightmare quests.

- Is this dude actually psychic?

- No for real lmao

- If you take it, a cursed status screen pops up and you get a timed quest from hell.

- That’s literally the final Great Demon quest.

- Judging from the design, looks like it’s a fragment of Solodal.

-[Author]: Solodal?

- Yeah, the weakest of the Great Demons.

-[Author]: So wait, can I clear it right now?

- What’s your level?

-[Author]: 79.

-[Author]: Grinding to hit Circle 9.

- LOL

-[Author]: Fuck off.

- Anyway, you need to hit Level 80 just to open it, lol.

***

Lisir recalled what Rodan had told him earlier.

The story about the friend who needed the help of a demon worshiper.

"She’s fallen into a deep sleep for... reasons.

According to the experts, only a high-ranking demon could wake her.

Apparently it’s tied to her birth."

Thus, Lisir, accompanied by Dangaleon, followed Rodan to the place where his friend awaited.

From what he heard, Dangaleon wasn’t on Maltiel’s level, but he was still a demon of considerable standing.

If they borrowed his power, they should be able to recover her name without much trouble.

At last, they arrived at their destination.

"Here we are."

"This is—"

The place Rodan brought them to was a high-end weapon shop in the commercial district of Bondales.

"Hey, I’m here," Rodan called out as he stepped inside.

At that, a small girl emerged to greet them.

"...Huh?"

Wait, no.

She wasn’t a little girl.

She looked more like an adult woman shrunk down to child size—

A dwarf...?

Seeing a race he had never encountered before, Lisir stared blankly at her.

In response, the girl flashed a mischievous, childlike smile.

"What, first time seeing a dwarf, bro?"

"Ah, my apologies."

"Heh. It’s fine.

You’re cute, so I’ll let it slide.

Plus, you're a guest brought by the Swordmaster.

Though... you don’t seem like a sword-wielder.

Shame.

I would’ve liked to put one of my swords in the hands of a friend of Rodan."

She nodded at Rodan’s glance and headed into the back.

When she returned, she climbed onto a stool behind the counter.

And then—

she placed something on the desk.

A sword, sheathed.

Lisir couldn’t understand the situation.

"Don’t tell me... your friend is—"

"The sword’s not just a sword, bro," the dwarf girl answered before Rodan could.

"It’s an Ego Sword."

"Ego Sword?"

"Yup.

A sword with its own consciousness.

Super, super, super rare.

Even so-called legendary blades can’t compare to this one."

"Ah..."

Finally, Lisir nodded in understanding.

It’s like Mr. Duran... but a sword.

When Rodan said he had a precious friend, Lisir had wondered what kind of person it might be—

"Any progress?"

Rodan asked, gently caressing the sword.

The dwarf girl shook her head.

"Nope.

Still no sign of it unsheathing.

What I said before seems to be the only option."

"..."

Rodan picked up the sword with a grim face.

Left hand gripping the sheath, right hand gripping the hilt.

He exerted force.

The sword didn’t budge.

With a wistful expression, Rodan murmured.

"Master..."

"..."

Lisir’s face twisted slightly.

Friend, mentor, and precious sword all in one?

Man’s compressing all his human relationships into a single object.

No wonder he turned into a lunatic who solves everything with brute force.

"Hey."

Rodan, now looking resolute, placed the sword back on the counter.

His face desperate, as if he'd do something {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} drastic if this didn’t work.

"..."

Lisir, feeling his mouth dry up, carefully set the gray crystal orb next to him.

"Dangaleon, if you please."

-At your command, Chuinni!

You lowly creature!

Respond to the call of the great Blazing Black Flame, Dangaleon!

Hey, don’t call his mentor a 'lowly creature'...

Lisir cringed.

Thankfully, Rodan seemed too focused on the sword to notice.

His face was lit with hope.

But slowly, that hope began to harden.

-Respond, I command you!

Despite Dangaleon’s repeated summons, the sword didn’t move an inch.

"Rodan, please.

Control yourself inside the shop."

The dwarf girl warned.

The killing aura leaking from Rodan was crawling across Lisir’s skin.

At that moment, Dangaleon spoke again.

-Chuinni, perhaps...

Should we ask her for help?

"Her?"

-The great Berbandes... Chu!

"..."

The desert brat?

The prankster of the dunes?

We're seriously asking her?

Lisir grimaced, but still called her forth.

"Chuinni!

I was napping!!!"

"Oh no, a nap is a sacred thing.

I’m sorry.

I need your help."

"But I’m happy to wake up and see Chuinni!

I’ll help!"

Berbandes, raising her tiny arms energetically.

Lisir patted her head and said:

"Then could you wake up that sleeping sword?"

"Okay!

Sword!

Wake up!

It’s morning!

No more sleeping!"

Berbandes grabbed the sword and shouted cheerfully.

Still—

nothing.

Rodan’s killing aura grew even heavier.

Feeling frustrated, Lisir picked up the sword.

That was when it happened.

"...?"

A strange sensation.

-Finally...!

You!

What’s your name!?

A woman's exhilarated voice echoed in his mind.

***

[Ego Sword: The Blue Lotus has bonded to you.]

***

─────

■ Rodan

Level: 70 (68) → 68

─────

─────

■ Lisir

Level: 44 → 52 (44)

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