Primordial Awakening: They Targeted My Daughter, I Became The Butcher!

Chapter 104: Upgrades...

Author’s Note: I noticed the previous Chapter was duplicated instead of the ending I initially wrote; I’ve corrected it. Please check it out before continuing with this in order to not get confused... We’ve developed the world enough... From here on out, things are about to get choatic...

[Master, you haven’t signed in for today. Do you wish to sign in or retain the fate points in addition to the daily fate points you receive?]

Amon stared at the golden screen, his thoughts momentarily interrupted.

Retain the Fate Points?

Or sign in?

He silently weighed the two options.

If retaining them meant accumulating more over time, then perhaps it was wiser to wait.

But...

His gaze drifted toward the tightly shut window.

A guttural roar reverberated through the night, followed by several piercing shrieks that seemed to scrape against the darkness itself.

The walls trembled faintly.

Amon lowered his eyes.

He was in an unfamiliar world with no memories of his past.

A world where terrifying creatures ruled the night.

Waiting only held value if he could survive long enough to benefit from it.

’I need strength...’

Without any hesitation, he made his decision.

’Sign in.’

The golden screen rippled.

A soft chime rang out, and the system displayed a new line of words.

[Daily Sign-in successful.]

[Congratulations! You have obtained: Shadow Stealth (SSS-rank).]

[Shadow Stealth: While standing within darkness or shadows, your presence is greatly concealed. The darker the surroundings, the stronger the concealment.]

Amon’s eyes brightened as he glanced at the reward he’d received from the sign-in. His first reaction wasn’t excitement. Rather, his eyes were filled with understanding.

Night.

Darkness.

Nightcrawlers.

The reward fit this world almost perfectly. If he wanted to leave the safety of this house after sunset someday...

This ability might become one of his greatest lifelines.

He instinctively looked toward the closed window.

Beyond it...

The shrill cries of the nightcrawlers rose once again, lingering beneath the endless darkness.

Amon slowly clenched his fist.

His heart, which had been filled with uncertainty moments ago, finally settled.

He was still weak, hopelessly weak.

But...

At least now... he had taken his first step.

...

The night passed eerily, and a new day arrived.

Amon sat at the table, staring blankly ahead, his eyes bloodshot.

He hadn’t slept a wink the previous night.

The terror of the nightcrawlers, coupled with the fact that he was in an unfamiliar world and didn’t know if the couple might try something in his sleep, made him afraid of falling asleep.

Collete, on the other hand, stirred awake. After a light yawn, she muttered in an audible voice,

"I guess I have to live another day while dying inside..."

Hearing her words, Amon turned to Collete.

His bloodshot eyes met her emotionless ones, and her pupils constricted sharply.

She’d forgotten that there was someone else present with her and unconsciously stated her true thoughts out loud.

"I... uh..." Collete tried to speak, but feeling that saying anything more would just be silly, she said nothing more and got onto her wheelchair.

"It seems you didn’t sleep last night. Try to get some sleep. Lack of sleep is detrimental to your health."

Hearing the little girl lecture him about health when she had mentioned something about ’dying inside,’ Amon was silent for a few seconds.

Should he ask her what she meant?

He felt that would be invading too much into her privacy.

"I’d like to draw, please..." At some point, Collete had rolled her chair to a stop in front of Amon and stared into his eyes, waiting for him to excuse her.

"Alright." Amon stood up and thought for a bit before going to the bed...

...

Time slowly dragged on in silence.

Amon watched the little girl silently scribbling onto her paper, the sound seemingly soothing and peaceful.

Unknowingly, he didn’t know when he drifted off to sleep on the bed.

When he woke up, the time was already three in the afternoon.

Amon rubbed his eyes, startled that he’d slept for such a long time.

Today, he planned to obtain a weapon or something and head out during the night, and he couldn’t particularly put that plan on hold...

With that, he stood up to head out. However, just as he was about to go, something caught his eye.

It was the drawing that Collete had finished while he was asleep.

She could now be seen staring blankly at the window, silently lost in her own thoughts.

Amon walked up to the drawing table in silence and glanced at the drawing she’d made.

The shading this time was particularly deep.

The image seemed to be a middle-aged man. However, his head was separated from his body.

His head lay a few meters from his body, which was being impaled by a shadow.

The expression on the severed head was filled with despair.

Amon stared at it for a few moments in silence before he walked out of the room.

He didn’t know why the little girl seemed to like drawing images of dead people, especially gruesome ones.

Deciding he was going to ask her about it later on, he walked out, having more important things to do.

Upon leaving the room, he didn’t hear any sound from the kitchen or see anyone in the sitting room.

Guessing that the couple had likely gone out, perhaps on their merchant work, Amon still chose to walk out of the house.

...

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the workshop district.

Unlike the frantic atmosphere of the previous evening, the streets had returned to life.

The rhythmic clang of hammers striking metal echoed from every direction.

Merchants shouted while customers bargained, and smoke drifted from blazing furnaces, carrying with it the scent of burning coal and molten iron.

Amon walked quietly through the bustling street.

His gaze swept across the rows of workshops gathered around, taking in the sight.

Swords.

Spears.

Axes.

Shields.

Everywhere he looked, craftsmen hammered glowing metal into deadly weapons.

He eventually stopped in front of a burly blacksmith whose bare arms bulged as he repeatedly brought down his hammer.

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

The glowing blade gradually took shape beneath each heavy strike.

Only after several more strikes did the man dunk the sword into a barrel of water.

Ssshhh!

Steam billowed upward, and the blacksmith wiped the sweat from his forehead before finally noticing the small figure standing nearby.

"What is it, kid?"

Amon looked at the weapon resting on the workbench, and after a bit of thought, he asked directly.

"Can you give me a weapon?"

The blacksmith froze, then blinked once as though he couldn’t believe his ears. After seeing that the kid was serious, he let out a hearty laugh.

"Hahaha!"

Several nearby workers turned their heads, the sound drawing their attention.

"A weapon?" the blacksmith repeated with amusement. "What does a little brat like you need a weapon for?"

"I need it."

His answer was calm and without hesitation. He couldn’t directly state what he needed it for, so he simply said...

The blacksmith studied him for a few seconds before shaking his head.

"Do you even know how to swing one?"

"I’ll learn." Amon replied almost immediately, and the simple reply caused the man to pause.

There wasn’t stubbornness in the boy’s voice, nor excitement. Instead, there was only quiet certainty.

The blacksmith scratched the side of his face.

"If you’re thinking of becoming an awakened warrior, then wait until you’re older."

He pointed toward the street.

"Besides, weapons aren’t free."

Amon remained silent.

That was true.

He had nothing. No money. No possessions. Not even memories.

The blacksmith sighed, then said after a moment of thought,

"If you really want one..."

His eyes wandered across a corner of the workshop before stopping on an old, worn-out iron dagger with several chips along its edge.

It was clearly a discarded practice weapon.

He picked it up and tossed it toward the kid in front of him, feeling a touch of pity for Kirby.

Amon instinctively caught it. However, the unexpected weight made his arm sink slightly.

"It’s useless against anything remotely strong," the blacksmith said with a dismissive wave. "The edge is chipped, and it’ll probably snap if you abuse it."

"Still... it can cut meat."

The workers around him chuckled upon hearing his words.

"Use it to skin rabbits or chop vegetables. That’s about all it’s good for."

Amon lowered his gaze to the battered dagger resting in his hands.

The blade was dull, scarred, and far from impressive.

Yet...

As he stared at it, he noticed a floating line of words appear in his line of sight from the familiar golden screen he’d gotten used to the previous day.

{+1}

Amon stared at the {+1}, confused. He wondered what exactly it was and almost instinctively clicked it, but recalled where he was and stopped himself.

"Thank you." He turned to the blacksmith and said with a smile.

The blacksmith merely waved him away before returning to the forge.

Clang!

Clang!

The sound of a hammer striking steel resumed as though nothing had happened.

Amon quietly left the workshop.

The chipped dagger hung awkwardly in his hand, catching faint rays of sunlight as he walked.

It wasn’t powerful. It wasn’t even considered a proper weapon.

But for someone who had awakened in an unfamiliar world with nothing...

It was enough.