The Discarded Son's Skill Market

At the other end of the seemingly endless hallway, the cursed creature shuddered upon hearing that name, and its face contorted. Its entire body trembled, and the black waters beneath it became so chaotic that the cursed beasts within it fled.

The cold winds, which had barely been felt before, buffeted Zaid and Valia more than once, but Zaid did not give up.

The man standing before him was someone who shouldn’t be alive; news of his death had spread around the world seven years ago: the last survivor of the Portal of Calamities, the only member of the first generation still alive, had died.

Reason: unknown causes.

Location: In distant lands of beasts.

There was no way he could still be alive!

That was what Zaid thought of this great-uncle of his, the only person in his family who had never looked down on him.

Seeing him in front of him again made him imagine so many things that he couldn’t hold back. He didn’t stop to think whether it was a beast possessing his great-uncle’s body or if he was really his great-uncle; he ran after him as fast as he could, to the point of tearing his skin and flesh on those biting, cold winds.

"Agh..." Zaid fell behind him; he couldn’t close the gap. It remained exactly 20 meters. And he couldn’t go any further.

He fell to the ground, and Valia tried to help him.

"Z-Zaid, w-what’s going on? Why did you suddenly run off after some cursed beast? Are you crazy? We could get swept away by..."

"I-It’s not a cursed beast," Zaid muttered, raising his bloodshot eyes. "I know you can recognize me... Otherwise, you wouldn’t have run away from me or stopped, Uncle Elijah."

The cursed creature didn’t turn around. It remained silent for more than 10 minutes, until it finally spoke.

"Did I make the worst rookie mistake?" the creature asked with a self-deprecating laugh.

Zaid smiled. He still liked to tell jokes...

"You’ve always made that mistake. Even when we played video games."

"Heh heh..." A dry laugh escaped his throat, and his tail suddenly drew more blood as he remembered the past... A past so distant that it will never return.

"I... I’m not your Uncle Elijah anymore."

"Do you still remember my birthday?"

"You just had your birthday... You’re 18 now."

"So you’re still my Uncle Elijah..." Zaid struggled to say those words... Because to him—who had mourned his uncle’s death—he was already dead.

He was his uncle, but how did it feel to see him alive, yet dead at the same time?

A cursed creature... Could it be alive?

He didn’t know, and he genuinely didn’t want to know; if they could talk, that meant it was.

Elijah sighed.

He didn’t say another word; he simply motioned for them to follow him deeper into the house, to a room where he kept his things. Zaid didn’t want to see what he had there, because he knew his uncle wasn’t the same person anymore.

His hobbies had changed.

He preferred to hold onto the memories of that uncle who liked to collect books he would never read...

But, in fact, when he glanced over casually, he realized that, in fact, his uncle was still the same.

Zaid frowned. He thought he was going to see a pile of decomposing bodies or shattered bones; he thought he was going to see cursed things or deadly beasts, but what he saw was a pile of books.

Some were open, others were covered in dust. But the room was unusually clean.

"I started reading... It’s fun."

Zaid nodded and pressed his lips together. He turned around and walked out of the room to look at his uncle’s enormous tail, still connected to the black water. His throat moved several times, but his face remained hidden in the darkness.

His uncle sighed behind him and came out as well... When he saw him defenseless, his instincts kicked in and he felt the urge to devour him, but he was a powerful being who knew how to control his damned instincts.

"What happened?" Zaid asked, feeling a lingering fear of hearing the answer, yet needing to hear it.

"You were declared dead on September 13, seven years ago... The news and your family said you had died in a distant land."

Elijah remained silent and expressionless for several minutes.

"They’re not wrong... I did die in a faraway land."

Zaid frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"Can’t you see what I’ve become?" Elijah raised his voice slightly, annoyed that he’d been asked that question. "Can’t you see what I look like? I’m a cursed being, little Zaid! A cursed being! I died—those damned bastards killed me! I didn’t fall like the others; I could have lived, but they killed me!"

Zaid trembled slightly. He had never heard his powerful uncle so angry. He could understand his words—could he consider himself alive, a cursed beast, simply because he was aware of what he was and who he had been when he was human?

"What happened?" Zaid asked again.

Elijah took a deep breath to calm himself; his breath released black smoke that filled the air, though he quickly dispersed it to avoid affecting Zaid.

"Little Zaid, there are some things it’s better never to know... Seriously. This world is more mysterious than it appears at first glance."

"If I don’t know something, I’ll die without knowing it. If I know something exists, couldn’t I do something to prevent it?"

"I see you’ve managed to wake up, but you’re not strong. You won’t be able to prevent something that even I couldn’t prevent."

"We’ll never know, Uncle Elijah... I want to know—who put you in that state?" A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes. "Was it... the Church of the Seventh Night?"

Elijah remained silent. He stood there deep in thought for a long time until he turned and walked over to stand beside him.

"What’s happening above this place, and why are you here?" He ignored his question.

Zaid had no way to force him to speak, so he resigned himself to hearing nothing for now. Despite having such a deadly beast by his side, he didn’t actually feel afraid.

Although it was dangerous, this man seemed to be his uncle. His voice sounded slightly similar, despite being grotesque. His face was the same. Although his energy was completely different, he still seemed to be his uncle.

Someone who was like a grandfather or a father to him during the years when his grandfather wasn’t there for him and his father simply considered his very existence a farce.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could survive in a Rank A dungeon, it was by staying close to this man, who in his day had been one of the most powerful men on the continent.