The Protagonist Already Knows

Chapter 25: A True Hero

Kneeling down on the grass, I reached my hand forward, feeling the cold stone of the gravestone.

"..."

Instinctively, my right hand grasped the hilt of my Dao and unsheathed it.

Holding my breath, I then attempted to mark the area in front of me as if there were a human standing there.

"..."

My body instantly began trembling, adrenaline surging through my body, and I leaped backward, tightly gripping my sword with my eyes locked on the tombstone.

I was successful...I had marked something.

However, at that moment, in the reflection of the tombstone, my eyes... radiated a blood-red: blood-red particles leaked out of my pupils, flowing upward and covering my forehead.

As I held my sword by my side, my vision was instantly flooded by countless blue and even more red lines, lighting up the night-black sky a dark purple.

The tens of faint blue lines all started at my Dao’s blade, stretching forward and ending all over the gravestone, causing the stone of the gravestone to shine a light-blue.

Alternatively, the thousands of crimson-red lines, shining as brightly as the sun, began at the gravestone, stretching upward and ending at points all over my body.

The red lines intertwined with the blue lines and overpowered them in sheer quantity, making my entire body shine a blood-red as if I were on fire.

I instantly understood: whatever was there...I stood no match.

"...ah."

Yet, for just a moment, I stood motionless, kneeling in the grass, watching the thousands of lines around me in awe.

Ignoring the crimson-red lines, I memorized the light-blue lines stretching from my Dao, imprinting them in my memory.

Through the lines, my sword attacked the gravestone from angles I couldn’t even imagine.

I knew what I was seeing...But I couldn’t believe it.

It was the vision of a Weapons Grandmaster, a person who reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship with years of training and enlightenment.

"A weaver who had entered the world of red and blue silk."

There were fewer than a hundred in the world.

I could see...the physical form of intent just like them.

Not just my intent, but the intent of...Whatever I had marked.

Was it because I had marked them that I could see intent?

Intent was manifested through emotions... so by marking someone else, I understood their emotions and my own further, allowing me to see their and my own intent?

The greatest factor, though, was likely my domain, which naturally boosted my gift’s powers.

Standing back up, my eyes locked onto the now light-blue gravestone, I let go of my Dao and sheathed it, watching as the lines before me vanished without a trace.

My body still trembling, I approached the gravestone.

Because I could see my opponent’s intent, I naturally understood...the being before me was not alive.

Without me even having to think, mana particles flooded into my body, instantly boosting my energy and strengthening my bones.

An odd sense of attraction pulled me toward the tombstone, which I understood to be due to the large amount of death-mana particles within my body.

At that moment, I saw a familiar figure standing before me.

The figure had no facial features, the lines defining their body oscillating back and forth as if they were a ghost, but I recognized him.

Without a word, the figure suddenly turned around and attempted to fly away from me, but as if there were a rope connecting the two of us, the figure failed, tumbling back toward me each time they attempted to fly away.

[Souls Reaped: 1]

I naturally understood what I had to do.

My gift originally belonged to a wraith: of course, I would be in the business of stealing souls.

"..."

Forcefully allowing the emotions from my mark to overwhelm me, I simply raised my trembling hand, which probably couldn’t even hold a pencil if it tried to, and touched the figure.

Peril’s ghost instantly scattered in a pitch-black cloud before entering my palm, as if it were being vacuumed.

The attraction force of mana.

"..."

As I stood once again alone in the field of dark-green grass, the harsh reality hit me.

My intent was stronger than my conviction.

My will to become stronger overpassed my will to follow my morals.

At that moment, the answer to the question I had been wondering about earlier appeared in my head.

A hero... What makes someone a hero?

It was someone, regardless of their power or standing, who prioritized their morality over their intention and goals.

If I had let Peril’s soul escape, I would have failed my breakthrough and descended to E-.

So, I reaped his soul.

In the next moment, as I blinked and the familiar feeling of my back against an uncomfortable wooden chair appeared, I found myself back in the Sunken Pearl library.

A familiar light-blue screen appeared before me, as I immediatly marked Evangel, who was still reading through her stack of books just a few chairs away from me.

===Status Menu===

[User: Ash Fell]

--> Rank: F-

--> Strength: G+

--> Stamina: F-

--> Intelligence: F

--> Speed: F+

--> Mana Pool: G+

--> Luck: G

[Gift: Death’s Ledger] / [Rank: EX] / [Element: Death]

--> [Your eyes may...]

---> [Souls Reaped: 1]

--> [Gifted Ability: Anubis’s Ferry]: [Turn Intangible for a short period of time.]

[Skills]

--> [N/A]

Taking advantage of the ambition and lack of distractions I felt at that moment, I immediatly took out a piece of paper and drew myself, exactly how I was standing before the grave.

Then, to the best of my memory, I drew the various blue lines that had appeared from my Dao and hit the gravestone.

Those were my attacks.

My moveset.

My sword style.

All the possible attacks I could successfully execute with my body’s current stats.

Now all I had to figure out was the footwork and hand positioning requirements to execute those moves.

Jumping out of my chair, I prepared to sprint to the training hall...when I realized something.

Ah...the distance between the training hall and the library is too far for my mark.

I was like a child who needed their plushie to be with them everywhere.