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The Keeper of Unholy Might

Nicolaus Asenon had a detached feeling and drifted through life aimlessly. Everything he had done had no purpose. He had sacrificed everything else in his life. In his darkest hours. He was struck by a vehicle and died. He had transmigrated from the modern world to an alternative world. With no remorse, Nicolaus Asenon is willing to go to any lengths to reap benefits. He has now seen all that life has to offer, transforming him into a cold, merciless, cunning villain, never allowing himself to get attached to anybody who may get in the way of his ultimate goal. From now on. He doesn't care what he had to do to win. He doesn't care what he had to sacrifice. In this world winning is everything, and in the end, he's going to win. This is the story of a man cultivating his strength to rise up above all... A Lord overlooking the entire world! ................................................. WPC #194 Gold Prize Artwork: Castlevania

BlindBandit · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
21 Chs

Are you willing to be my apprentice kid?

Nicolaus was shuddering and sweating profusely as he dreamed that he was being pursued by a horned demon, which made his little body quiver.

In the midst of his mad running, he lost track of how much time had passed. The only thing he knew was that he needed to get away from that horned demon as quickly as possible, no matter how long it took.

Because of the darkness, Nicolaus couldn't make out the outlines of the horned demon; all he saw were a set of eyes staring at him and a pair of long horns on his head as the horned demon chased after him.

It was strange to watch its long limbs swinging from side to side as the horned demon made huge steps, but what was even stranger was that the distance between him and the horned demon never seemed to grow any smaller, and was only maintained at a 50-meter distance from each other.

Nicolaus halted for a while in the depths of his nightmare, as he was almost stifled by the frenetic pace at which he had been running.

Unexpectedly, a pair of hands came out from behind him and firmly grabbed his arm, never allowing it to slip away.

As soon as Nicolaus got to get a glimpse of the horned demon's nightmarish eyes staring at him, his body was engulfed in a wave of utter chillness. The horned demon's whole body was concealed in the darkness, and a whip-like sound could be heard behind it, as it thrashed the ground with its rear as if it were delighted.

Nicolaus instantly opened his eyes after waking up from his nightmare, but even though he was now fully awake, Nicolaus could still feel the stroking of a pair of arms caressing his arm.

Nicolaus instincts kicked in as he shot out a punch with all his might towards that figure, yet, his punch was instantly subdued as it landed on a soft feeling.

Geraldine softly stopped his son's blow with her hand, as she gently pulled out a towel and gently cleaned his son's sweaty body. A gentle chuckle echoed in his ears as Geraldine eyed his son.

"What made you so anxious? It's fine now…" Geraldine's voice was quiet as he continued, "The old shaman has come to visit you..." she stated in a soothing voice.

"The old shaman?…." The moment Nicolaus muttered beneath his breath as his mother was cleaning the perspiration from his face. A shriveled old man, who looked like his body was made of bones, went slowly across the room, every tap of his wooden staff echoing throughout the place.

"Kid… You've woken up... You were brought here by your father since you had suddenly fallen asleep in my hut..." He stated this as a smile began to appear on his face as he approached and finally came alongside Nicolaus.

Upon hearing those words, Nicolaus attempted to recall what had occurred during the time he had spent in the hut, but it seems that he has absolutely no recollection of anything that transpired during that time.

Nicolaus pushed the issue to the back of his mind for the time being since it seems that he will not get a response any time soon.

After that, Nicolaus asked, "Where is father? How come I don't see him?"

"Your father has a business that he must attend to... That being said, I'm here to share some exciting news with you! Geraldine exclaimed with delight as she probed her peripheral vision towards the old shaman.

Nicolaus eyed the old shaman, as the bearer of good news would be only this old fart beside him.

"Would you like to be my apprentice, kid?" The old shaman spoke this as he looked the little boy in the eyes with seriousness.

Nicolaus hesitated for a while, but he soon felt convinced that, with the guidance of this strange old fart, he would be able to become stronger and seek vengeance on the person who had wronged him.

Previously, on the way to the old shaman's hut, his father, Boarfang, would constantly remind him to show complete respect to this old fart, and he would tell him that since this old fart was always a mysterious person and was very strong, becoming his apprentice was considered a wise decision.

Shortly after making his decision, Nicolaus sat up in his bed and knelt on the floor as he said politely, "Apprentice meets master..."

"Good… Stand up at once, I… Accept you as my apprentice," Upon witnessing this child, kotowing to him, the old shaman coughed lightly as a drop of sweat ran down his cheeks and he nearly stammers in his sentence.

The old shaman was about to tell this brat that he didn't need to kowtow to his master since a simple bow would enough. Yet, this little brat instantly kowtowed in front of him and behaved in the manner of a dutiful apprentice; nevertheless, only he was aware that the master present in this room is the little brat in front of him.

"Although this old man Dazul is pleased, I'm ashamed aswell." Although his expression was somber, the old shaman smiled to himself as he assisted his apprentice in rising to his feet.

"I can't afford to be stingy as your master, so come see me at my hut every day. As your training starts tomorrow." Dazul, the old shaman, shared his humility.

"This disciple understands," Nicolaus responded politely with a bow on his head while looking at her mother, Geraldine, who was beaming with delight,

He had no thought that the training would begin so soon, and he was relieved to discover that the cursed mark that had been pulsing in pain beneath his ears had gone and that he could now begin to train properly under the guidance of this old fart.

With that, the old shaman nodded to himself, satisfied with the results, as he walked away and tapped briskly with his staff, making his way towards the door, as a husky voice reached Nicolaus's ears as if it had been carried there by the wind.

"Don't be late…"

Once Nicolaus heard those words, he smirked, his gaze drifting to the wizened old man's back, which was slowly receding as the old shaman shut the door on his way out.