Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

The street was silent, devoid of any people.

A faint mist drifted in from the end of the road, slowly enveloping the entire castle.

Tap, tap, tap!

The sound of cold footsteps echoed, as a tall, thin figure gradually emerged from the fog.

Wearing a tall top hat and with a body as thin as a skeleton, a pale mask covered his face, beneath which glowed a pair of blood-red, murderous eyes.

His left hand had five long, razor-sharp claws, like the blades of a sickle.

These claws had been stained red from slaughtering so many victims.

This iconic appearance was unmistakable to anyone.

This was the notorious serial killer.

"Jack the Ripper. Why have you set your sights on me?"

Rod rubbed his chin, feeling a bit curious.

Could this be the so-called "protagonist's fate," where trouble follows you no matter where you go?

"Why don't you run?"

Jack's voice was raspy, like nails scraping against glass, grating and eerie.

His bloodthirsty gaze locked onto Rod as he slowly stepped forward, his tall, thin frame moving with deliberate slowness.

Each step he took radiated an almost unbearable pressure.

His movements were like a predator playing with its prey, urging the prey to flee so he could savor the chase, relishing in the moment when the prey would fall into despair and die.

Rod stood still, watching him as if observing a clown.

Run?

That word didn't exist in Rod's vocabulary.

It was daytime, after all.

And as long as the sun was up, he was a god.

"Let's hope you give me enough of a fight to pique my interest."

"Fool."

Rod looked down at Jack, who was steadily approaching, his eyes gleaming with arrogance.

Under the shadow of the fog, his pale golden eyes shone with a sense of supreme pride.

How could a mere mortal make a god take a step back?

"..."

Jack's bloodshot eyes widened with rage, clearly triggered by Rod's haughty expression.

An uncontrollable fury coursed through him, causing his body to tremble slightly.

"Why... aren't you running?"

Slash!

Jack's icy claws tore through Rod's chest.

Rod deliberately suppressed the power of the Commandment of Love, allowing Jack to rip into his body, over and over again.

He wanted to test how powerful his immortal body, granted by the Fountain of Life, truly was.

His chest was soon torn open, his flesh ripped apart, and his organs gouged out by the frenzied attacks.

Rod looked down at his disemboweled organs, yet an overwhelming life force surged through his limbs and bones.

Before his very eyes, his shredded innards began to regenerate at an astonishing speed.

Jack's eyes, visible beneath his mask, widened in disbelief as he slashed even faster with his claws.

But Rod's body healed faster than Jack could tear it apart.

Within seconds, all of Rod's wounds had completely healed.

Jack's claws, still embedded in Rod's flesh, were caught as his wounds closed around them. It took a great deal of effort for Jack to yank his claws free.

"Giving up already?"

"Not surprising. After all, you're facing me. Despair is inevitable."

Rod's face remained calm and indifferent, his expression taunting.

In the face of his opponent's frantic attacks, his serene composure was the greatest insult.

Jack gritted his teeth, fury and a deep sense of helplessness swirling inside him.

Never had he encountered someone so arrogant.

"Though I don't know who sent you after me, standing under the sun, I am the embodiment of both the sun and pride."

A brilliant, radiant light like the sun began to emanate from Rod's body.

At his fingertips, a blazing "sun" began to form and rise.

Bathed in its glow, Rod stood like a monarch who ruled over the sun, his gaze indifferent, as if he were a true deity.

"For the crime of provoking me, you shall atone with your body!"

Boom!

The "sun" descended.

Jack's body was engulfed in searing flames, burning him to ashes.

"Wouldn't it have been better to just stay alive?"

As the surrounding mist slowly dissipated, the bustling street reappeared.

Rod turned his gaze behind him.

Standing there, cross in hand, was Van Helsing, looking as if he were preparing for a fierce battle.

"There's no need to be so tense. If I wanted to kill you, not even your god could save you."

A legend? A demigod?

Van Helsing's taut nerves relaxed slightly.

Though Rod's words were boastful, he believed them. The sheer power radiating from this man... if Rod wanted him dead, it would've taken less than three seconds.

Still, he couldn't help but think that Rod was far too arrogant.

To casually speak of gods as if they were beneath him—was he not afraid of divine retribution? [T/N: The audacity of this peasant.]

Van Helsing's mind buzzed with uncertainty. Even though he himself wasn't a particularly devout believer, he couldn't help but wonder...

Was this man not worried that his soul would be cursed for blaspheming the gods?

"What was that just now?"

Rod, still curious, asked.

The world he had been briefly trapped in didn't seem like some mere illusion.

"That was the power of a demon, capable of warping space. You were dragged into a world created by the demon. If it had been a stronger demon, it might have even pulled your soul into the abyss."

Van Helsing explained, speaking as though this were all routine for him.

A demon-created world was essentially a unique battlefield. Once the demon was purified, the world it created would naturally vanish.

Of course, being dragged into an abyssal realm would be a much bigger problem. Without enough strength, you'd be lost in the endless depths forever.

"A demon... you mean that thing just now?"

Rod looked puzzled.

If it had been a demon, that would explain why it had slaughtered the followers of the God of Radiance.

Demons weren't like devils. Their very essence was chaos and destruction.

Cruel blood sacrifices, those twisted rituals, were the handiwork of demons.

Such rituals, soaked in cruelty and blood, were designed to create souls filled with hatred and terror.

To demons, such souls were the most delicious food.

"Jack the Ripper was merely a servant, created by a demon. I've been tracking him for a long time to find the demon behind him."

Van Helsing gave Rod a strange look.

"But why would that demon send Jack to hunt you?"

"Maybe I'm too much of a nuisance for him."

Rod chuckled.

Thinking back, he did mention to the gate guards when he entered the city that he was a mage.

If the demon had caught wind of this through the guards, it would explain why Jack the Ripper had been sent after him.

Although he still wasn't sure why a demon would be hiding in a human city, it was clear the demon had its reasons.

And the presence of a mage might have thrown a wrench in its plans.

"Come to think of it, I've never seen a real demon before."

Rod muttered softly to himself.

As for Freya, strictly speaking, she wasn't a pure demon. She was more of a half-demon.

And the other half of her bloodline was that of a succubus.

Succubi were among the few demons who didn't lust for blood and slaughter. Instead, they were more adept at manipulating people, using their bodies as tools to seduce humans, draining their energy and souls.

Because they lacked the immense power of other demons, succubi were considered the lowest of the low in the abyss, often referred to as "the shame of demons," and many demons didn't even regard them as their kin.

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