King of Titans and Dragons
Chapter 886 - 886 874 Life is so hard for me

Chapter 886: Chapter 874: Life is so hard for me! Chapter 886: Chapter 874: Life is so hard for me! “Could I be the child of calamity?” Aeolus, with blood still smeared on his face, showed an expression filled with doubt about life. Another adventure party had just been persuaded by him to agree to take him out of the maze, but midway, they encountered an ambush by a group of monsters.

In fact, it was not particularly difficult for adventure parties to take him out of there. Since its discovery a year ago, many adventure parties that settled in Holy Flame City to explore the maze had some impression of Aeolus, the primary school student who always seemed to be surrounded by a huddle of delicate little girls.

Aeolus was also considered a celebrity of sorts in Holy Flame City. As long as Aeolus could clearly explain why he was inside the maze, many adventure parties were willing to take him out of there.

However, it was precisely because of this that disaster struck. So far, Aeolus had convinced a total of three adventure parties to take him out of there, but to his utter despair, these three parties always ended up being chased and killed by ferocious beasts too powerful to resist on the way.

“Did you attract these monsters?” Aeolus, with his clothes already stained with blood, looked down at the short sword in his hand. This short sword had unleashed its mysterious, extraordinary power countless times, allowing him multiple narrow escapes from death in the underground palace.

Yet, three adventure parties that had tried to take him out and met with misfortune made this young child cautious. He had become aware of the strangeness but hadn’t associated this weirdness with himself; instead, he blamed the short sword in his hand.

“Are you a sword imbued with a curse? Does everyone who helps me suffer bad luck?” Aeolus held the sword in his hand, his gaze showing deep suspicion. But that was just suspicion, for it was impossible for him to throw away this sword, the testament of his continued survival.

…

“Hahaha, that kills me, this kid sure has an imagination, thinking all his misfortunes are because of this sword,” a father with a penchant for dark humor laughed heartily, holding his wife in a cozy room.

“The one causing him this misfortune is certainly not the sword, nor him—it’s his father, who is full of malice!” Michaela, burying her head in Muria’s chest, said grumpily.

“What about those who died because they were involved with your son? How have you arranged for them?”

“Don’t worry, their souls have all been collected. Although they helped Aeolus with a certain utilitarian intention, ultimately, they died trying to help my son, so they deservedly should receive my commendation!”

Muria said with a smile, “Those adventurers with noble characters will have the chance to enter your Angel Reincarnation Pool, to be reborn in angelic form. Those less kind will receive a stronger body with improved talent for cultivation, and a complete set of equipment appropriate for their professions, one that is significantly more powerful than their current level—as restitution for them!”

To Muria now, death meant something different than it did to ordinary mortals. In Muria’s eyes, the dissolution of the body was nothing major. He could revive creatures that had died from fatal physical injuries whenever he wanted.

Who could blame him for being quite familiar with certain powerful deities in charge of the Death God Position? He had allocated his domain’s faith to Them in return; as a consequence, Muria could arbitrarily resurrect creatures that had died unnatural deaths.

…

“I absolutely can’t seek protection from those adventure parties anymore!” Although he didn’t know whether it was a coincidence or a curse, Aeolus had decided that he would find his own way out of the maze and no longer harm those adventure parties.

“But…” Aeolus, having made up his mind, looked around with a slight look of confusion, “Which way should I go?”

He had made the decision, but regrettably, Aeolus was already lost within the maze. He had appeared here abruptly and did not know where the maze’s exit was at all.

Just then, Aeolus noticed the short sword in his hand, turned a greenish hue, suddenly grew warm, subtly emitting a pulling force.

“Do you want to lead the way?” Aeolus looked at the short sword in his hand, but after some thought, he seemed to have no better option. Since the sword had brought him here, following this sword might also be a good choice to find his way out.

…

Wearing a set of refreshing silk clothes, Aeolus opened the curtains. The morning sunlight streamed in from the window, and he looked at the calm scenery outside, feeling a bit dazed. The experience of the previous night felt almost like a dream.

But Aeolus knew it was not a dream. He looked at the corner of the room at a pile of old, blood-stained clothes—clothes he had just changed out of.

“What is this mark the sword has guided me to obtain?” Aeolus lifted his palm. On his wrist was a shallow sword-shaped imprint, surrounded by several patterns.

And just as his confusion had begun to arise, a flash of light passed over the sword-shaped imprint on his wrist, and then he felt a pulling sensation in his mental power, and the vision before his eyes underwent a drastic transformation.

White, everything in his vision turned into a void of white, but shortly after, solid ground began to emerge under his feet, and then a desolate world appeared before him, empty of anything.

But as Aeolus looked around curiously, a person clad in grey, carrying a long sword on his back, silently stood opposite him. The moment Aeolus attempted to speak, to exchange words with him, he saw the grey-clothed person unsheath the sword without a word and strike down with it.

Bright sword light covered the world in front of Aeolus’s eyes, and then… the desolate world before him, along with the grey-clothed swordsman, all vanished, and the warm and cozy room, along with the radiant sunlight and the peaceful streets, reappeared before him.

“Hiss!” But Aeolus, upon seeing all of this clearly, couldn’t help but press against his temple. It felt as if someone had struck his head with a sword, yet when he touched it, there was no wound.

“My mental power!” Not understanding what had just happened, Aeolus quickly checked his body, only to find that the mental power he had accumulated through meditation had silently diminished by a large amount. And there was a very painful stabbing feeling on his forehead, as if he really had been slashed by a sword.

…

Seven days later

“Father, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about!” Aeolus, looking somewhat haggard, said to Muria who was comfortably lying on the couch reading a book.

“Hmm? What is it?” Muria, a figure of refined demeanor, lifted his head and looked at his son, who had just graduated from elementary school, with a smile.

“A few days ago, I took the amulet you brought back from the maze without permission.” Having been tormented to the point of desperation by the amulet and the imprint on his hand, Aeolus decided to seek help from his father.

“Hmm!” Muria remained impassive, perfectly playing his role, “It’s just an illumination amulet. If you like it, you can have it!”

“Father, it’s not an illumination amulet. The appraiser of this amulet is a talentless hack!” Seeing his father’s indifferent expression, Aeolus said indignantly. Then, to convince his father, he watched as the amulet in his hand, flickering with a faint white light, began to change form, turning into a short sword.

“It can even turn into a short sword, huh? Not bad. You keep it, it suits you well!” Muria’s face still showed little emotional fluctuation, fully demonstrating the composure expected of a knowledgeable father.

“No, Father, this amulet isn’t just able to turn into a short sword. It also has the ability to teleport. Seven days ago, it teleported me into that maze you entered!”

“What?” At that moment, Muria’s face finally showed a hint of surprise at just the right level.

“I stayed in that maze for a night,” said Aeolus, looking at his father, whose face now showed surprise, and at his mother, who had hurried over and seemed somewhat anxious. A look of distress appeared on Aeolus’s face; he couldn’t bear it any longer.

“…Guided by that sword, I entered a very special underground palace, which was filled with many broken swords. As soon as I entered, all the broken swords radiated light, which then gathered on my wrist and formed this imprint!”

Aeolus described to his parents the events of that night in the maze, then extended his palm, revealing the sword-shaped imprint on his wrist to his father.

“Your luck seems to be quite good, despite all the hardships you’ve endured, but you have gained a significant benefit,” said Muria, reflecting on his son’s tragic tale with a sigh that betrayed a certain scheming father’s sense of wonder.

“Have you figured out what this imprint on your hand does now?”

“I have!” Aeolus said, his eyes reddening slightly. It was because of this imprint that he was tormented beyond endurance, and so, having no choice, he decided to come clean to his father in search of help.

“This imprint, every night, pulls my consciousness into a spiritual space, and a swordsman appears who can’t communicate…”

Aeolus complained to his father about the awful experiences the imprint had caused him, being forcibly pulled into a spiritual space each night to face a swordsman so powerful that he had no ability to resist, being instantly killed each time – an experience as real as death.

In short, over the past seven days, he had been killed seven times in his mind, completely helpless each time, and the experience was extremely unpleasant.