Reincarnated As A Dragon With Cheats-Chapter 21: Graveyard Of Memories(4): Luck

Chapter 21: Graveyard Of Memories(4): Luck

My name is Billie Curly.

And I am an adventurer.

I always was.

When I was ten years old, I lost my parents to a great calamity.

A wave of monsters passed through our village and destroyed everything in its path. Houses burned. People screamed. The sky turned red.

I survived.

I was lucky.

I was always lucky.

When cultists tried to kidnap me, a brave adventurer named Adam saved me.

When I found a gold coin near the river, we ate meat for an entire month.

When monsters passed near me in the forest, they somehow never noticed.

Luck always chose me.

But I did not become an adventurer for rewards.

I became one because I wanted to explore the world.

After losing my parents, I had nothing else.

I grieved for ten days.

I told myself that was enough for ten years of love.

Maybe it was not.

But I convinced myself it was.

I packed what little I could find in the rubble and walked out of my destroyed village, which was already being rebuilt by some noble.

My first destination was the Forest of El Jeir.

Some called it the Forest of Hope.

They said lost things could be found there.

I did not believe the stories.

But I still walked into the forest with a single goal in mind.

The Ring Of Resurrection.

It could bring the dead back to life.

I wanted my parents back.

But more than them, I wanted my sister back.

She was the one who held my hand when I was scared.

She was the one who hid me when monsters came.

I searched the forest for years, six years to be exact.

I ran constantly.

I hid under massive trees.

I dug holes in the ground to sleep inside.

I sometimes climbed trees and covered myself in leaves.

There were giant lizards. Black centipedes as long as logs. Wolves with glowing eyes.

But I survived.

Because I was lucky.

When I turned sixteen, I still had not found the ring.

But I found something else.

A compass.

I held it tightly and whispered,

"O compass of wishes, heed my plea and direct me to the Ring Of Resurrection."

The needle trembled.

Then pointed northeast.

So I walked.

One more year passed.

Along the journey, I found a hat.

It was called the Hat Of Half.

There was a saying.

It is better to remain oblivious and innocent than to know something halfway. Knowing half is dangerous.

I did not understand the meaning.

But the hat helped me avoid traps.

It saved me many times.

Eventually, I reached the destination.

A dungeon.

Several adventurers were gathered outside. They were injured. Some sat on the ground. Some leaned against rocks.

One man caught my eye.

"Sir Adam?"

I rushed toward him.

He had dark circles under his eyes. The bright smile he once wore was gone.

The man who used to laugh and tell me not to become an adventurer now looked hollow.

"Sir, do you recognize me?"

He stared at me.

Silent.

"You might not recognize me. It is Billie. The kid you saved from the cultists seven years ago."

His eyes widened slightly.

"Look at me, sir. I followed your path. I am an adventurer now."

His eyes had no light in them.

He spoke only two words.

"Give up."

"Pardon?"

"Give up on being an adventurer. If you want to live, give up."

He did not look at me again.

He packed his belongings and walked away.

Later, through bits of conversation and rumor, I learned the truth.

Adam Ethrel had a daughter.

Seril Ethrel.

He had encouraged her to become an adventurer.

She died in a dungeon.

In a way no one could describe without trembling.

When he heard about the Ring Of Resurrection hidden inside this dungeon, he came searching.

But the great door never opened.

No matter how they tried.

No matter how strong they were.

It never opened.

But I was lucky.

I found a hidden passage.

It led to a smaller door, hidden behind broken stone and moss.

This door had markings.

It had been opened before.

Very recently, in fact

I placed my hands against it and pushed.

It opened, thanks to my luck.

And I stepped inside.

The smell hit me first.

It was a strong pungent scent of rotten.

I covered my nose instinctively.

The ground beneath my boots was uneven.

If anything, it felt a tiny bit unnatural and eerie.

It was hard in some places and soft in others.

I walked deeper.

My compass, which had never failed me, suddenly stopped.

The needle spun.

Then froze.

That was when I saw him.

A man in a robe.

He wore a ring.

I hid behind a rock and watched.

"Two hundred more and I will be promoted," he muttered.

When he clenched his fist, I noticed something strange.

There was no flesh.

Only bone.

My breath caught.

I gasped and...

He heard it.

Before I could move, he disappeared.

And reappeared beside me.

A gigantic scythe formed in his skeletal hands.

I did not even have time to scream.

The blade pierced through my chest and thrust half way out.

I was in midair when I blinked.

And I saw it.

My heart...

It was outside my chest, attached to the scythe while beating faintly.

My vision blurred.

I fell.

The ground felt cold.

So cold.

I thought my luck had finally run out.

But luck chose me again.

I did not fully die.

I could still think.

I could still feel.

But I could not move.

I could not breathe.

I could not close my eyes.

I felt my bones being pulled.

My flesh being stripped.

I felt soil packed around me.

Something carved into my skull.

Something binding.

I wanted to scream.

But I had no lungs.

I wanted to cry.

But I had no tears.

Time passed.

I forgot how long.

Days.

Months.

Years.

My memories began to blur.

My parents’ faces faded.

My sister’s voice grew distant.

My own name felt foreign.

Sometimes I remembered I was Billie.

Sometimes I forgot.

Now I float.

Now I laugh.

Now I say strange things.

Sometimes I argue.

Sometimes I invite others to feast.

And sometimes, when I see someone strong...

I remember.

Just a little.

My name is Billie Curly.

I was lucky.

And because of that...

I became a Graver.