Journey to Become the Zenith

A Family Reunited, A New Enemy Revealed

"So."

"Choose."

"The first..."

"Or the second."

"Which one do you want?"

The assassin completely broke.

His dignity.

His pride.

His courage.

Everything vanished.

He leaned forward as tears streamed down his face.

"Please..."

"Allow me to become your servant!"

"I beg you!"

"I swear..."

"I’ll serve you with all my strength!"

Victor quietly looked at him for several moments.

Then...

He released a tired sigh.

Without another word...

He stood up.

The assassin instinctively looked up.

Before he could react—

Victor’s hand moved with effortless precision.

Thud.

A clean chop landed against the side of the assassin’s neck.

His eyes rolled back.

His body immediately went limp before collapsing sideways.

Several nearby customers looked over in surprise.

One scratched his head.

"Too much to drink already?"

Victor caught the unconscious man before he hit the floor.

He easily lifted him over one shoulder as though carrying a sleeping friend.

The surrounding patrons glanced at the pair with mild curiosity.

Victor smiled apologetically.

"My friend had a little too much to drink."

"So we’ll be heading out first."

He gestured toward the mugs filling the tavern.

"You all keep enjoying yourselves."

"I’ve already paid for everything."

A chorus of cheerful thanks immediately echoed through the room.

"Thank you, Sir Victor!"

"Safe travels!"

"Come drink with us next time!"

Victor simply waved with a smile.

Clara, Videl, and Aria quietly rose from their seats and followed him toward the exit.

The warm tavern doors slowly closed behind them.

After saying that, with the assassin in hand, Victor’s group left the pub.

--------------

When the group got out of the pub the first thing they did was head towards Clara’s place.

The evening breeze swept through the streets of Fantom City, carrying with it the scent of damp stone and freshly cut timber. Although only a few days had passed since the undead invasion, signs of reconstruction could already be seen everywhere. Workers hammered broken walls back together while merchants reopened damaged shops beneath temporary wooden roofs. The city was slowly healing, but the scars of battle remained visible on every street.

Victor walked at the front of the group with his usual composed stride. His sharp features remained calm, his long black hair gently swaying behind him as the wind brushed against his golden-trimmed black jacket. Draped over one shoulder was the unconscious assassin, as if he were carrying nothing heavier than a sack of grain.

Behind him walked Videl, Clara, and Aria.

Videl’s sapphire-blue eyes occasionally drifted toward Victor before quickly looking away again. She had countless questions she wanted to ask, yet seeing how relaxed he appeared despite everything that had happened made her hesitate.

After several minutes of silence, she finally spoke.

"Victor..."

He glanced sideways.

"Hm?"

"I wanted to ask this for some time now."

Her tone was unusually serious.

"How do you know Niklaus?"

Victor didn’t answer immediately.

Videl continued before he could interrupt.

"Why does he act as though he has known you for a very long time?"

"And..."

She hesitated for a moment.

"What did that message mean?"

"Who is the Fourth Hero..."

"...and why was he grateful to a Demon Lord?"

The street became strangely quiet.

Even Aria subconsciously slowed her steps.

Videl couldn’t stop thinking about the strange meeting inside the pub.

Everything Niklaus had said sounded less like a greeting between strangers and more like an old friend speaking to someone he deeply respected.

She was almost certain Niklaus truly was the mysterious Fourth Hero.

But that only created an even greater mystery.

From everything Ruby and Natalia had shared with Eon, Brinda, Lane, and Videl during their private conversation, history only recorded one overwhelming existence among demonkind—the Demon Emperor Anos.

Niklaus never mentioned Anos directly.

Instead...

His attitude toward Victor was impossible to ignore.

Could Victor somehow be connected to that era?

The thought sounded absurd.

It couldn’t be possible.

The Fourth Hero belonged to ancient history.

Victor had grown up in Kanal Village.

He had human parents.

He laughed, ate, trained, and lived alongside everyone else.

How could someone like him possibly have anything to do with an existence from countless centuries ago?

The more she thought about it...

The less sense it made.

Victor calmly kept walking.

"I don’t know a thing."

His answer was simple.

He didn’t even look at Videl.

Inside, however, Victor’s thoughts were anything but calm.

When Azriel had revealed that the Fourth Hero was still alive...

He had genuinely been shocked.

No ordinary human could survive for thousands of years.

But Niklaus was no longer an ordinary human.

That much had become obvious the moment Victor saw him.

Instead of feeling worried...

Victor felt excitement.

A smile almost formed on his lips.

You’re alive...

So you really survived.

His heartbeat unconsciously became faster.

Back then...

The Fourth Hero had been one of the few people capable of standing on equal footing with him.

Every battle between them had shaken kingdoms.

Neither could completely defeat the other.

Their clashes had become legends.

Now...

If Niklaus had continued growing stronger over all these years...

Then their next battle would surpass anything they had fought before.

Victor quietly clenched his hand.

Not yet...

I’m still too weak.

His current body couldn’t reproduce even a fraction of his former strength.

Meeting Niklaus now would only disappoint both of them.

No.

He wanted to become stronger first.

He wanted the day they met again to be the day both of them could fight without regrets.

Only then...

Would their reunion have meaning.

Seeing Victor remain silent after answering, Videl lowered her gaze.

She knew him well enough to recognize when he was avoiding a topic.

He was lying.

Not because he wished to deceive her...

But because whatever secret he carried wasn’t something he could reveal.

She looked at the crimson horn hanging from Victor’s belt.

That horn had belonged to Niklaus.

Someone unrelated to demons should never have been able to use such an artifact so naturally...