The Huntsman Of Death:A Gamer's POV As Side Character

Ashton watched White take the oath, his tone confident and carefree. But the act of swearing in the name of the Goddess had left Ashton uneasy. It could mean two things: either White was genuine and innocent or... he was powerful enough not to fear divine retribution.

That second possibility sent a chill through Ashton’s spine.

’Saying no might be dangerous,’ Ashton thought, his heartbeat quickening. ’Just because he said he’d let me go doesn’t mean he actually would. And accepting… well, it’s not the worst option. I might learn something useful and figure out if there’s a catch to all this.’

After a moment of hesitation, Ashton nodded and said cautiously, "Okay, I accept."

"Great!" White’s voice boomed with excitement as he clapped his hands, the sound echoing in the massive library. He spun in a small circle, his arms wide, like he was putting on a show.

"Believe me, kid, this is the best decision you’ll ever make! When you’re old and gray, you’ll look back and think, ’Wow, what a genius I was to trust Mr. White!’"

Ashton couldn’t help but frown at the dramatic display. He wasn’t sure if White was being sincere or just trying to mess with him.

White twirled his staff and tapped it on the floor. "Now then, let me explain how this works. You can enter and leave the library anytime you want. Just pray, and poof, you’re here. Easy, right? And when the time comes for something important, you’ll hear a call. It’s unmistakable."

"Right," Ashton muttered, still wary but trying not to show it.

White leaned forward suddenly, tilting his head like an oversized bird. "But here’s the fun part! Since you’re officially one of us now, you need a name."

"A name?" Ashton asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yep! Every member has one," White replied, snapping his fingers. Out of nowhere, a ring of glowing cards appeared, floating in the air around Ashton. Each card had two crossed blades on the back.

White gestured wildly to the cards. "Go on, pick one! It’s like a magical lottery, but with cooler prizes."

Ashton glanced around at the cards, his suspicion still lingering. But with no better option, he reached out and grabbed the nearest card. The moment his fingers touched it, the glow intensified, and the card felt warm in his hand. Your next journey awaits at freewebnovel

Slowly, Ashton flipped it over. His breath caught as he saw the image: a masked figure holding an unusual scale. One side of the scale held a dark sword, sharp and menacing. The other side balanced a garland of flowers, delicate and serene.

Ashton swallowed hard, his throat dry. His voice came out low as he read the word beneath the image. "Judgment…"

White froze mid-step, his head snapping to Ashton like he’d just seen something incredible. "Yes," he said after a moment, his voice softer but still holding a playful edge.

"From today, you’ll be known as the Blade of Judgment—" He stopped abruptly, his body stiffening as if something had clicked in his mind.

"What?" Ashton asked, his curiosity piqued by White’s sudden pause. "Do the other members have names like this too?"

White tilted his head back, waving his hand dismissively. "Ooooh, I’d love to tell you, but that’s a story for another time!" His voice was sing-songy, and before Ashton could press further, White snapped his fingers.

"Next time!" White said cheerfully as the world around them began to distort.

"Wait!" Ashton called, but his voice was swallowed by the strange rippling effect overtaking the space. His body felt light, like he was floating, and before he knew it, the library and White disappeared entirely.

Ashton blinked, trying to steady himself, but all he could think about was the image on the card and the strange, unnerving man who called himself White.

...

"Gasp!"

Back in his dorm, Lukas stumbled through the door and collapsed onto the floor. His vision blurred, and his body felt like it had been wrung dry of every ounce of energy. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, soaking into the carpet beneath him.

"The space…" he whispered between ragged breaths. "It’s draining my mental strength… even with my stats, it almost consumed me completely."

His hands trembled as he wiped the sweat off his brow. He forced himself to sit up, leaning heavily against the bed. His thoughts raced as he assessed the situation.

"I can maintain the space with one person for thirty minutes. If I add another, it’ll shrink to fifteen. Three? Impossible right now."

The ability to bring others into space was powerful, but Lukas understood the limits. Their consciousness could freely enter and leave without burdening him, but shaping the world to his will, influencing events, and maintaining stability all required his mental and spiritual energy.

He exhaled deeply. "For now, it’s just Ashton. That’s manageable. But this severely limits my plans."

He leaned his head back against the wall, staring blankly at the ceiling as he tried to calm his overworked mind. The problem wasn’t just his lack of power but his rank. His abilities were still too underdeveloped. If he grew stronger, he could have better control, unlock more functions, and expand the space’s potential.

"I knew it wouldn’t be easy," he muttered with a dry chuckle. "No wonder this place becomes crucial in the final fight."

Lukas’s thoughts drifted back to the game. In the first few endings, only Ashton had survived, while the rest of the main cast perished. It wasn’t until he discovered alternative routes—ones that required nurturing other characters—that survival rates improved. Even then, the outcome was never perfect.

"And even with this power, the world was still doomed," Lukas murmured. "The game had limits… fixed sequences, restricted choices. No matter how much freedom it claimed to offer, it was just a game."

But this wasn’t a game anymore.

He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling as an ache settled in his chest. From the very beginning, he had one goal: the true ending. The happy ending where everyone lived, where they all triumphed together.

But the thought weighed heavily on him. "Is that even possible?"

This world wasn’t bound by programming or predictable patterns. Here, countless variables spun around him like a chaotic storm. And unlike a game, there were no resets. No retries.

He had one chance. Only one.

Lukas clenched his fists, his determination hardening despite the exhaustion. "Then all I can do is give it everything I’ve got."

"For the world."