A few steps beyond Jundam Street, in a wooded area, an old man leaned against the shade of a tree, watching the moonlight. He looked around his 50's. The howling of wolves brought him peace, but the murmurs within the silence of the night could not suppress the curse of the past echoing in his mind. The blood trickling from his chest bore the mark of a deadly curse known as the Curse of Fate.
The Curse of Fate makes its bearer's blood shine; the weight of the curse reveals itself through this glow. Anyone who saw this gleam would understand that the person was afflicted by the Curse of Fate and would therefore avoid them. Each level of the curse determines the manner and time of the bearer's death. And although legends say that rebirth can erase this curse, new lives are more painful than the previous ones. Thus, even if someone wished to erase the Curse of Fate by dying and be reborn, their new life would be darker than before.
But Keres Daeval didn't care.
He was on the brink of death, yes, but there was a smile on his lips. He had surrendered to the curse, yet it was as if he had accepted this defeat beforehand. With a sarcastic but truly ambitious voice, he whispered:
"I will not die. I will never die. I will live forever. Because I am the very embodiment of evil and sin. I will never stop smiling, I will never stop dancing, I will live forever because I am only practicing my art — and this art will keep me from ever sleeping."
As he repeated these words, his eyes narrowed with sorrow. Behind his laughter, grief was hidden. This man, who once believed he would become the ruler of this world, a God, was now kneeling under the yoke of a curse. Yet, although the Curse of Fate was deadly, it was not impossible to break. Only one thing was enough to shatter it: saving someone else's fate. Even if the person could not do this, they could break the curse with a 5th-level Curse Removal Curse, while the curse applied to him was only level 4. Yes, this would erase all his curses, but Daeval already had experience. He could also gain more than the tricks he currently had since he still possessed temporary spells.
Daeval was capable of doing this. But he didn't.
He did not want to lose the powers he had gained. Moreover, the other option, kindness, was alien to his nature. To him, kindness weakened him; no matter what difficulties fate threw at him, he did not want to act kindly. Maybe this feeling came from his childhood, or maybe every moment of his life was filled with this feeling, but he doesn't not believe the power of kindness. He pondered the following thoughts in his mind:
"Kindness is against art, and art is the very essence of power. In a world where power is obtained through evil, what do I gain by painting my canvas with kindness? Kindness is for the weak because they believe only kindness will be rewarded, but that is the path of cowards. There is no more desperate act than tying your life to something."
Daeval was definitely not stupid. Moreover, he wanted to embody pure evil, and he knew he could not achieve this by dying. He had prepared for this. Death was not an end for him; perhaps this was why he looked so calm. He knew very well that this was not an end for him because he had sealed the Curse of Immortality onto his body.
The Curse of Immortality was useless, even harmful, to most people; it dragged cursed souls into continuous decay. The dead souls would relive their experiences repeatedly, as if nothing had happened, being reborn again. The stronger the person's will, the faster the Curse of Immortality broke, but as long as the curse was not lifted, the person's resolve and will could not destroy it the first time. No human would want to return to such a merciless world. Therefore, this curse even frightened those who had a purpose. But Daeval was different. He had turned this curse into a tool. He had killed thousands of people, meticulously collected the blood of mortals, and combined it all into a single potion. Thus, he had created the curse with his own hands.
There were many ways to acquire a curse in this world:
First, the Curses obtained through Ancient Scriptures, which were ancient magical tools found only deep within the Earth. These scriptures existed as knowledge, and as long as they were written on scrolls and the requirements fulfilled, the spells could be cast.
Temporary Curses that function for a limited time. These were created by imitating the scrolls containing the Ancient Scriptures, producing shorter-lasting effects and were weaker than the original forms, but still could be highly effective.
Or the third method: imprinting the curse directly onto the body through potions.
Daeval had chosen the third way.
At the bottom of the cliffs two kilometers beyond Kojien City, in a cave guarded by bats, he brewed his potion. He considered staying in the cave safe, yet remained cautious. The night he drank the potion, the locals of Kojien—those who wanted to cleanse what he had tainted with his blood—raided the cave.
But Daeval was one step ahead thanks to the Cognitive Curse. With the Cognitive Curse, if anyone approached the cave, he would be warned. When his mind began to throb, he felt the approaching disaster. He immediately stood and set off. He expected to be found eventually, just not so soon. Without taking any of his belongings, he fled directly. When he reached Jundam Street in Kojien City through a path he had found before, three people confronted him. He was quite familiar with their faces and didn't find them very strong. The only one who interested him was You Zhonhi.
He was tired. He had no temporary curses with him. The curses he had were barely enough to defeat villagers because he hadn't even gathered his energy yet. Yet, after a short but intense fight, he emerged victorious. But immediately after his victory, a sudden pain swept through his body. He leaned against the gas lamp post lighting the street and realized the situation. The Curse of Fate had been applied to Daeval.
This was no random curse. It was truly deadly. Also, it was level 4, and casting a level 4 Curse required more than minimal effort. To cast such a high-level Curse of Fate, the person opposite had to sacrifice their life; apparently, the old man had realized he was going to die and cast the curse.
But sacrificing his own life was not enough; the Ancient Scripture of Consilleous, Duke of the Earth, a very powerful monster, also needed to be obtained. Daeval had killed Consilleous, so he was the one who had obtained Consilleous's spell, but how had this spell fallen into You Zhonhi's hands?
At that moment, he remembered the scroll he had left in the cave. Daeval had left the scroll containing the Ancient Scripture of the level 4 Curse of Fate in the cave. After Daeval left the cave, the old man had searched it and found the scroll.
Then, using the Teleportation Gates placed every 2 kilometers, the old man appeared before Daeval. Daeval could not use the gates and had run the entire way. Zhonhi, however, used his authority and knowledge to prepare himself, whispering the words from the scroll during the fight.
Zhonhi was the president of Kojien City. Perhaps not as strong as Daeval, but he had the potential to cast even a level 5 scroll on himself or someone else. After all, he was born in the 4th layer and had gone to the 5th layer purely for training. He had received high-level training but chose to be a politician rather than a warrior and had become the city's president.
Daeval fled the city and took refuge in the Linhai Forest. Although this forest stretched between two rocky mountains and appeared large, its surroundings could easily be encircled. But he was already expecting this encirclement. Sitting under a tree, he calmly awaited his death. Yet, his only hope was not to give his death to those villagers burning with a desire for revenge. The thought of their grief and depression made him laugh. That's why, while sitting under that tree in the forest waiting for death, Daeval was not anxious.
He did not want false immortality or temporary power; he wanted to be truly evil. He did not aim to be a mere reflection containing all the traits of a God but to be the God itself, embodying those traits in reality. Of course, he could not become that God by dying now, but he knew he would be reborn. Therefore, he quietly awaited his death. Perhaps after dying, his corpse would be dragged through Jundam streets, burned, crushed, or even stoned. He did not care; he did not care about such things and even felt pride. He felt both resentment and pride toward those who would do that. Outwardly, Daeval chased an inconsistent evil.
As the moon waned, Daeval's heart stopped. His blood cooled, muscles relaxed, and his soul left his body. He passed through the nine layers of the world, then beyond the Earth. Floating in the void, he saw all his memories. The pain, the deaths, the betrayed beliefs... If he had a face at that moment, he would neither laugh nor cry. He would be completely expressionless. These disgusting images did not disgust him. But gradually, a sinister smile formed on his face. Yet inside that sinister smile lay pain. It was as if behind the smile that showed satisfaction from all he had lived, there was sorrow and grief.
And then... he was reborn.
In the city of Eldoria in the Kingdom of Valor.
His body was that of a weak infant. Although reborn, he did not have his old memories. Thus, he was starting completely from scratch. Like every human in this cruel world, he came crying.
But this was not an unchanging cycle for him. Daeval had only restarted, and this time he was more determined. Because he had a plan.