I Became a Raid Boss-Chapter 125: Demon King (5)

The young generation who hadn’t experienced war, along with the players—outsiders who had crossed dimensions—could hardly grasp it. Yet, the scars left by the Second Racial War were still evident across the Ardina continent.

That was to be expected.

After all, less than half a century had passed since the war ended.

Although direct combat had lessened toward the war's end due to the intervention of the Holy Nation and the prolonged exhaustion of the conflict, no one remembered those times fondly.

For that reason, aside from rare exceptions like the Holy Nation, there were very few who harbored any goodwill toward the demons.

The same could be said for the young man guarding the entrance to the modestly sized village of Katlan.

At twenty years of age, the young man named Jack had not experienced the Racial War firsthand.

But he had heard about those days so often that his ears practically bled from the tales.

"Jack."

At the sound of his name, the young man sighed and turned around.

The voice was familiar, though not particularly welcome.

“Haa... I’ve told you it’s dangerous here. You shouldn’t come around.”

Just as he suspected, the person addressing him was someone he knew.

An old man leaning on a worn cane to support his bad leg.

The elder, who had been patting his crooked back moments ago, opened his eyes wide in indignation.

“Dangerous? You brat, when I was your age, I dealt with far worse!”

“Haa...”

It was the second sigh Jack had let out.

He already knew what the old man was about to say next.

"Do you know how my leg ended up like this?"

“Do you know how my leg ended up like this? It’s a mark of honor from fighting desperately against the monsters that attacked the village!”

“...Fought for three days straight, didn’t sleep, and so on...”

“Back in my day, huh? Demons attacked so frequently we had to fight for three whole days without even a wink of sleep!”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Now, can you just head back?”

“Kids these days get scared of a couple of monsters and tremble like leaves. Tsk!”

Jack had heard the story so many times that he could recite it verbatim.

If you only listened to his words, the old man sounded like a valiant hero who had bravely fought off the demons and monsters threatening the village.

But Jack knew the reality was far from that.

The elder’s leg hadn’t been injured in some heroic battle. It had happened when he tripped on a rock while foraging for herbs in the mountains during his youth.

Likewise, the tale of fighting demons for three days without rest was a fabrication.

Jack, having heard the truth from other villagers, couldn’t help but find the old man’s stories amusing.

Even so, he didn’t call him out on it.

After all, the old man might exaggerate, but he wasn’t a bad person.

“Here, take this and keep watch.”

With a soft whistle, the old man tossed a piece of bread in an arc.

Jack caught it effortlessly and grinned.

“You really shouldn’t give me stuff like this, you know.”

“Shut your mouth and eat, you brat.”

Guard duty was tedious.

Standing at the village entrance all day on high alert was bound to get boring.

So while Jack pretended to grumble about the old man’s visits, he didn’t actually mind them that much.

And it certainly wasn’t because of the snacks.

“Anything unusual?”

“In a quiet place like this? The most excitement we get is a stray monster wandering in...”

“Hey! That kind of complacency invites trouble!”

“Who’s complacent? I’m just saying.”

Jack yawned lazily and dismissed the old man’s words without much thought.

Turning his gaze outside the village to avoid direct eye contact—because ignoring him outright would only invite more nagging—he spotted something unusual.

“...Huh?”

“What is it? Did something happen?”

“That... can’t you see it?”

“Bragging about your good eyesight now, are you? Fine, you brat! Your poop must be real impressive!”

“Hey, why talk about poop when someone’s eating bread... Never mind, you’ve ruined my appetite.”

Jack frowned at the absurdity of the conversation but shifted his focus back outside.

If his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, someone was approaching the village.

“...A girl?”

Jack frowned deeply and muttered to himself.

It wasn’t uncommon for peddlers or travelers to visit the village, but seeing a lone girl wandering outside was rare.

She wasn’t armed, so she clearly wasn’t a mercenary looking for work either.

“Jack.”

Maybe she had gotten separated from a nearby merchant caravan.

“...Jack.”

Or, judging by her delicate features, she might be a noble runaway.

“Jack!”

“...Ah! You scared me!”

Jack snapped out of his daydreams as a sharp voice startled him.

“Why are you shouting? Have you lost your mind?”

Rubbing his chest to calm his racing heart, Jack grumbled irritably.

He expected the old man to berate him with something like, "A guard shouldn't be daydreaming!"

But to Jack’s surprise, the old man looked uncharacteristically serious.

“You’re slacking off! We don’t have time for this! Do you have your whistle?”

“Huh? My whistle? Yeah, of course—”

Jack fumbled at his waist and pulled out the whistle.

A guard’s role was to alert the village of impending danger by blowing the whistle when necessary.

“Blow it now!”

“What? Why?”

“Ugh, give it here!”

The old man snatched the whistle from Jack and blew it himself.

Piiiiiii!

The sharp sound echoed through the village, silencing everything.

Moments later, responding whistles sounded from various points around the village.

Jack’s thoughts wavered between whether the old man had gone senile or if there was truly a crisis.

When the old man gestured urgently, Jack finally noticed the black mist swirling around the girl as she approached.

“Miasma...?”

Jack felt a chill as he realized the girl wasn’t ordinary.

“What are you doing? Run!”

“But shouldn’t we stop her?”

“Does she look like someone you can stop?”

Following the old man’s finger, Jack saw plants withering wherever the black mist touched.

Though the world around her darkened, the girl herself remained vibrant, like a flower in bloom.

Jack sighed, resigned, and carried the old man on his back.

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“Hold on tight.”

If she wasn’t stopped, the quiet village of Katlan would never be the same.

A girl walked aimlessly.

She had no destination.

Her feet simply carried her wherever they wished.

Thus, the fact that she headed east was purely coincidental.

‘─────?’

‘──. ────.’

‘...──.’

“....”

Perhaps some instinct compelled her to move east, but that hardly mattered.

At least, not to those caught up in her path.

When swept up in a typhoon, most people either pray for survival or curse the storm, but few wonder why it arrived in the first place.

The girl’s presence was much the same.

Swoosh!

An arrow tore through the air.

The razor-sharp tip gleamed as it raced toward the girl’s life.

Yet the girl seemed completely unaware of the projectile aimed at her.

Even if she had noticed, how many could avoid an arrow at such close range? Regardless, it was clear that, at this rate, her crimson blood would spill, and her life would come to an abrupt end.

Had she been an ordinary girl, that is.

Just before the arrow struck her head, the black mist surrounding her rippled lightly, like waves on a calm sea.

Thunk.

“?”

The arrow lost all momentum as it collided with the black mist, falling harmlessly to the ground.

It dropped as feebly as a dried branch tossed onto the roadside.

The act of aiming for her life was undoubtedly a declaration of hostility.

Yet, though her life had been threatened as she walked, the girl blinked as if oblivious to what had just transpired.

And then, a figure appeared before her.

“...Captain, how did you end up like this?”

Eric’s voice was heavy with an indescribable sorrow as he asked the question.

No answer came.