Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

The air was freezing, suffused with an eerie silence. A dilapidated city stretched endlessly before Rhodes, shrouded in a deathly gloom.

"This architectural style… it doesn't belong to humans," Rhodes murmured, his eyes sweeping over the weathered buildings. Despite the erosion of time, their rough outlines retained traces of their former majesty.

"It looks more like the work of orcs… no, wait." Rhodes narrowed his eyes. "These aren't modern orcs. This has the signature of the ancient orc clans."

The ancient orcs were a primal offshoot of the orc lineage, the forebears of today's orcs. Unlike their descendants, who gradually embraced a more refined and humanlike form, the ancient orcs were massive, bestial, and physically dominant. Few among them resembled humans; most retained monstrous forms, their towering structures reflecting their brute strength.

Walking deeper into the ruins, Rhodes saw the remains of these creatures. Skeletal giants, some over thirty meters tall, lay scattered amidst the desolation. In the central square, the colossal remains of a beast, easily a hundred meters in length, sprawled like a forgotten sentinel of a bygone age.

Suddenly, the ground trembled, and a sinister aura filled the air.

"Death's power?" Rhodes muttered, glancing at the faint glow on his palm—the mark of death reacting to the overwhelming presence here. His gaze shifted to the heart of the ruins, where a pillar of deathly energy surged skyward.

"This isn't just residual energy. It's too pure for that… Could a legendary-level creature still linger here?"

Before he could contemplate further, a massive skeletal hand emerged from the ground, reaching for him.

Boom!

The hand disintegrated before it could touch him, shattered by the invisible winds swirling around him—the divine grace of the Tornado.

"Pitiful." Rhodes shook his head, stepping forward unhurriedly. The area around him erupted in a violent storm, shredding the skeletal remains that rose to block his path. Fragments of bone rained down, reduced to dust in an instant.

But his progress didn't go unnoticed. More footsteps resounded. From every direction, the undead surged like a tide, their numbers in the tens of thousands.

"This must be the entire population of the ancient orc city."

Rhodes sighed, raising his hand. "Let's end this farce."

God's Domain: Storm!

The invisible boundary expanded, pulling the undead into a realm of endless hurricanes. Within moments, the undead army was torn apart, reduced to nothing but bone powder swirling in the relentless storm.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," Rhodes muttered, dismissing the domain as he strode toward the center of the ruins.

---

At the heart of the ruins stood a grand palace, its weathered yet majestic walls constructed of neatly arranged marble blocks. Guarding the entrance were orc warriors, their massive frames clad in rusted armor, their once-bright weapons dulled by time.

Even in death, their duty remained unwavering.

As Rhodes approached, the soul flames in their hollow eyes flared to life, and they slowly rose from their half-kneeling positions, their weapons poised to strike.

But Rhodes didn't even spare them a glance.

Commandment of the Divine: Kneel!

His voice echoed like thunder, a decree carrying the weight of an unassailable god. The orc warriors froze, then fell to their knees, their weapons clattering to the ground.

"End yourselves," Rhodes said casually, his tone devoid of emotion.

The warriors shattered into pieces without resistance, their final remnants scattering as dust in the cold wind.

---

Inside the palace, the air was dark and oppressive. At the end of a vast corridor stood a towering throne carved from immense stones. Seated upon it was a colossal lion-headed figure, its body covered in dark golden fur that shimmered with a lifeless luster.

A black gem, pulsating with deathly energy, was embedded in its forehead. This gem emanated the same aura that had blanketed the ruins, maintaining a semblance of vitality within the decayed body.

"So, this is the source of the disturbance," Rhodes murmured, his gaze locking onto the gem.

The lion-headed orc stirred, its massive hands gripping a weathered greatsword. With a low growl, it leapt from the throne, its blade cleaving through the air with holy-realm-level force, amplified by the gem's power.

Clang!

The blade collided with the invisible tornado surrounding Rhodes, shattering instantly.

"Pathetic," Rhodes scoffed, raising his hand.

Magic Snatch!

The black gem ripped itself free from the orc's forehead, flying into Rhodes' palm. Deprived of the gem's energy, the lion-headed orc disintegrated, its massive frame crumbling like sand blown away by the wind.

"All that power, and it still couldn't stand on its own," Rhodes muttered, examining the gem.

The aura of death radiating from it was unmistakably divine. "A relic of the God of Death… but why leave it here of all places?"

His thoughts wandered briefly before he tucked the gem away.

---

With one gem secured, Rhodes decided not to waste time. He visited the other three forbidden areas, effortlessly retrieving the remaining gems by obliterating the threats within. By the time he returned to Count Ettel's city, he held all four gems in hand.

Landing at the city gates, he ripped the test notice from the board and handed the gems to the astonished knights. Without hesitation, they escorted him to the palace, their expressions filled with awe and fear.

As the gates opened to welcome him, Rhodes smiled faintly.

"Let's see what other trials await me."

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