Near the ruins of the Demon King’s castle, the agreed-upon contract had come to an end.
Two groups faced each other in silence, tension thick in the air.
A gust of wind stirred the clouds, and several tumbleweeds rolled between them, adding to the uneasy atmosphere.
The scene was so intense that Sigg couldn’t help but touch his chin, squinting slightly.
His “dead eye” activated, ready to draw his gun, only to realize he was left with just the Armstrong cannon.
Helplessly, he eyed the mercenaries on the other side, fully geared up and baring their fangs.
It was time to lay everything bare, though his words remained as ridiculous as ever.
“Are you gonna talk or not? Why aren’t you saying anything? Don’t make me beg… Should I kneel and plead? Man, you guys are really something. Who the hell are working for? Which noble’s lackeys are you guys?”
The pathetic team was racking up points for embarrassment.
Tears burst from his mouth—probably because he was starving and wanted to wrap this up quickly.
“At least let us die knowing why! Please, I beg you, or we won’t even know who to curse in hell. Mom, Dad, your kid can’t fulfill his filial duties anymore.”
It sounded like a last will and testament.
Emilia, the girl beside him, gently tugged at his sleeve with her delicate hand, whispering a reminder while keeping her wary gaze on the enemies.
“Sigg, did you just say something wrong?”
“Nah, before a fight starts, throwing out useless banter or trash talk is just a way to lower their guard. I don’t care about face, shame, or dignity—surviving is what matters.”
He shrugged nonchalantly, muttering softly.
Sure enough, the nobles on the other side, seeing this, decided to show some “mercy” in the spirit of chivalry.
“I’m a knight under Lord Magnus,” one of them declared.
“Our goal is to kill Emilia. The timing is perfect now. To avoid complications, all of you must die to ensure our mission is flawless. I know you’ve got some skills, Sigg, but you’re no match for us.”
Clearly, this noble squad was all about playing it safe.
Killing Emilia required the perfect time, place, and conditions—and this spot was ideal, with no magical contract to bind them.
“Oh, yeah, you’re totally right,” Sigg replied, nodding.
Unfortunately, Sigg wasn’t great at remembering nobodies, especially nobles with their long, pompous names.
After getting the info he needed, he ignored the fluff, nodded again, and mentally noted who to target.
Perfect.
He clapped his hands in mock approval.
Too bad for them—they’d run into him.
Next life, they’d learn not to underestimate their opponent’s strength.
Overconfidence was a fatal mistake.
As the enemy squad’s captain prepared to act, shouting and summoning some bizarre power, a storm kicked up, and his body glowed gold, as if he were about to transform.
This was the power of a Chosen One, gifted by the gods.
Once they reached a certain level and passed divine trials, they’d gain new abilities and a massive power boost.
Rinse and repeat.
Those watched by the gods were leagues above the rest.
But before the captain could finish transforming, his body still shimmering with divine light, Sigg dashed forward.
With a single, ordinary punch—an uppercut—he sent the captain flying, interrupting the transformation.
The captain soared into the air, as if caught by some invisible force, before crashing straight down, cracking the ground beneath him.
He lay motionless, dead or alive unknown.
Sigg casually stepped on the captain’s body, his face expressionless as he critiqued the man’s idiotic move.
“You think I’m an idiot? Transforming right in front of me? What, you thought you had invincibility frames during your transformation? … Who’s next? Or are you all gonna gang up on me in the name of justice?”
“If you surrender now, I’ll give you a chance to prove yourselves. Maybe I’ll spare you. Even if you’ve got killing intent, as long as you haven’t made a move, we can still talk. I could use some mages right now—I’m kinda struggling on my own.”
The noble knights clearly weren’t listening.
Realizing the massive gap in strength, they turned tail and ran—except for the strongest among them, who stood his ground, striking a pose and muttering to himself like he was hyping himself up.
“It’s fine. I’m the strongest.”
He began chanting a magic spell, but before he could cast it, Sigg punched him, sending him flying.
The man’s upper body embedded into the ground, his lower half sticking up like a tree, his body stiff as a board.
At least he wasn’t split in two.
After dealing with the strongest, Sigg moved on to the others.
“Trying to run? Hmph, Lightning Whirlwind Slash!”
After easily dispatching a few more, he chased after them, letting out gleeful, maniacal laughs—“Jie jie jie, jie jie jie!”
The last one, a green-haired woman, was frantically fleeing, her high heels flying off as she ran.
Tears streamed down her face as she pulled out her final trump card.
With a magic circle, she summoned a dragon—a small, yellow-and-white wyrmling.
She leaped onto its back, shouting in a panic, her voice trembling.
“Milk Dragon, go, go!”
But Sigg, relentless as ever, silently climbed onto the dragon’s back.
With a charming smile, he patted the girl’s shoulder from behind, leaning in with a teasing tone.
“You’re the Milk Dragon? Nah, I’m the Milk Dragon. If you’re that interested, I wouldn’t mind letting a pretty girl like you ride me. I’m kind-hearted and bad at saying no, so come on, don’t be shy.”
“Please, spare me, Lord Sigg! I was wrong, I’ll never do it again!”
The green-haired girl froze in terror, afraid of losing her head.
Seizing a moment of distraction, she urged the Milk Dragon to shake Sigg off, even making a smug face as she giggled.
“Was I wrong? Nah, I don’t think so! Hee hee, I’m gonna survive!”
Sigg, shaken off, remained unfazed.
He began chanting an ancient, powerful spell, his aura surging with overwhelming force.
“Hey, kids who love Milk Dragons, say hi to Belial!”
As his words echoed, the Milk Dragon panicked, desperately trying to flee.
In the chaos, the green-haired girl was thrown off, but Sigg caught her mid-fall with one hand.
“Oh, by the way, you’re not dying just yet. What’s your name? I’m kinda curious.”
“I-I’m Liyev,” the green-haired girl stammered, trying to placate him.
She leaned into her charm, emphasizing her modest figure in a desperate bid to survive.
“Oh, wow, I’m from LoveBug TV! What a coincidence. Here’s a little gift for our first meeting.”
With a grin, Sigg didn’t hesitate.
He landed a powerful gut punch.
And just like that, the crisis came to a quiet end.