CHAPTER 3

I Didn't see this coming (3)

Well, I guess I should've.

The ancient sages once said in some dusty old scripture:

"If you don't work, you don't eat."

In other words — if you don't pull your weight, don't expect a free meal.

Sure, I admit my eyes lit up at the idea of living it up as some pampered, silver-spoon noble… but come on.

"Trying to kill me is a bit much, isn't it?!"

The Skeleton King cursed under his breath at the glint of cold steel flashing before his eyes.

They'd drawn stilettos — slender, deadly knives made for one thing.

And the moment he realized what those were — true weapons — the vicious blades came stabbing straight for his heart.

Crunch!

The needle-like tip tore through his clothes, narrowly missing its mark and digging into the ground right beside his shoulder.

"Son of a —!"

There wasn't even time to be surprised.

"Damn it!"

Rolling desperately to the side, the Skeleton King spat curses. His heart was pounding. He'd barely dodged.

Well — to be more accurate, his attackers had hesitated. But that wasn't what mattered right now.

"These bastards seriously just pulled a knife on a newborn?!"

He didn't know exactly how old this body was.

But judging from the size of these tiny hands?

Definitely an infant.

Reeling from the shock, the Skeleton King took a better look at his would-be assassins.

Their outfits weren't flashy or luxurious, but neat — beige cloaks, skirts, and trousers.

Standard servant attire — the kind you'd commonly see in the Holy Empire.

Judging by their speech and movements, these weren't lowly laborers either.

"I figured they were nannies or something."

But to kill him? Really?

People from the Holy Empire — trying to assassinate a Saint?

Why?

Desperate to make sense of this madness, the Skeleton King scrambled to recall what these lunatics had said earlier.

Right… What was it?

Candidate for Sainthood?

"Did they say the Saint had to come from their own family?"

He barely had time to think before the blade came stabbing for him again.

The Skeleton King flailed wildly.

Crunch!

Dodging yet another stab, he unleashed another string of curses.

"Do these damn idiots not understand the concept of communication?!"

The knife, gleaming as it caught the light, hovered for a moment — failing once more to pierce the infant body.

A voice clicked its tongue.

"Tsk. What's gotten into our little one, squirming around so much all of a sudden?"

What do you think, genius? Maybe because you're trying to kill me instead of feeding me?!

"Shall we just tie up the arms and legs?"

As their conversation grew more absurd by the second, the Skeleton King squeezed his eyes shut.

"Magic… I probably can't use it yet."

His soul was ready — his knowledge intact — but this was a newborn's body. It wasn't going to keep up with his mind.

Besides — this body was said to be blessed by the gods, capable of holding any power… but that was after the fact.

He hadn't imbued it with anything yet.

"And gathering mana… that's going to take time."

He didn't need much.

Just enough mana to knock these bastards out cold.

And then—

"Um… I know we're supposed to kill the baby, but isn't this a little…?"

Oh?

One of the attendants — the youngest-looking of the three — glanced around awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable.

"I knew there had to be at least one sane person here."

Because no matter how twisted things got in the Holy Empire, assassinating a Saint wasn't exactly normal behavior.

"Yes… talk some sense into them…"

"But knives get messy. Let's strangle the baby instead."

…Or not.

The Skeleton King internally clutched his head.

What kind of household did these psychos come from?!

He wanted to track down their family head and bash their skull in — but right now, survival came first.

"First… I need to create a Mana Core."

Mana Core.

Simply put — it was a vessel for storing mana, the source of all magic.

Without it, casting magic was impossible.

Whether for survival or for hiding from the gods' gaze — he needed to use magic, fast.

If the gods caught wind of this, he'd really end up trapped in some worthless bug again — or worse, get caught by priests and erased from existence.

"The problem is… magic originally belonged to demons, dragons, and other non-human creatures."

That's why monsters were born with Mana Cores — as natural as a heart.

Humans, on the other hand, had to create theirs from scratch.

Still — that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Unlike monsters, whose size and form are predetermined from birth, humans had no such limitations — since their mana core was something created after birth.

In other words, depending on how much time and effort one invested, it could become a vast lake… or just a cramped little well.

In fact, when mages spoke of someone being "blessed by the heavens," it usually referred to this very difference.

And yet… opening up a mana circuit in a rush, right now?

"Why bother building a mosquito pond… when I've got a body capable of swallowing all five oceans whole?"

That wasn't the only problem.

The mana core was an absolute weak point — if destroyed, a monster would die instantly, and a human would become a vegetable.

Naturally, enemies — and even the gods — would always aim for it first.

That's why the ideal was to create a mana core so dense and durable that it could never be broken.

"…Not that I can even handle a basic mana core right now, let alone a top-grade one."

An infant's weak body couldn't withstand the power of a mana core — it would rupture and die on the spot. That was precisely why even the most talented mages wouldn't so much as glance at a child under three years old.

In other words — for most people — it was impossible to use magic before the age of three.

"But that's only true for them."

The Skeleton King was a Grand Archmage — so mighty that even the gods of magic watched him warily.

Even the dragons, the so-called masters of magic, avoided delicate precision spells — but the Skeleton King could design them flawlessly.

And this body… wasn't exactly a newborn, was it? Give him five days, and it should be enough.

"Five days, my ass."

"At this rate, I'll either get caught by the priests or killed by these fake nannies…"

And then—

"Wait a second!"

"…Yes?"

"Put the child down. I'm sensing… demonic energy from him."

…!

For the first time in centuries, the Skeleton King felt his heart lurch.

The servants' expressions changed, and they hurriedly set him down.

"A candidate for sainthood… with demonic energy? Don't tell me he's a fake sent by the demons…!"

"If that's true… what do we do? The Lord ordered us to bring back the child's eyes and heart, no matter what…"

"It doesn't matter. Orders are orders. We'll rip them out. Keep your mouths shut."

"Yes, sir."

Squelch!

"What the hell?! This is child abuse!"

The Skeleton King summoned every last bit of strength in his tiny body and rolled off the chair onto the floor.

Thud!

His forehead smacked the ground.

Tears welled up — not that he could help it. Sure, feeling sensations again after centuries was nice and all — but did it really have to be pain?

"Wow. I'm so moved I'm crying my eyes out here."

Had there not been a soft carpet laid over the floor, he might've lost more than just tears.

Luxury carriages sure had their perks.

But that moment of gratitude didn't last long.

Tap.

A tiny baby hand pressed against the floor of the carriage.

At the same time, the Skeleton King's crimson eyes gleamed sharply.

And then—

Ruuumble…!

The instant his hand touched the floor, light exploded from beneath him.

The nannies, who'd been about to grab him, recoiled in shock.

"What the—!! …Ack!"

Light engulfed the carriage interior, and wild flames erupted.

The flames surged to the ceiling in an instant, threatening to engulf the panicked servants.

"What are you doing?! Put out the fire!"

"It won't go out!"

"What?!"

Watching the chaos unfold from within the flames, the Skeleton King grinned wickedly.

"If I don't have a mana core… I'll just use someone else's."

Every faction used utility magic for daily life.

And in a carriage fancy enough to have a carpeted floor?

"Of course they've installed magic."

Things like lighting, heating, anti-magic barriers — standard stuff.

But to keep those spells running continuously, they needed a mana core installed in the carriage itself.

This carriage was no exception. And for the Skeleton King, locating a mana core — even in a baby's body — was easier than closing his eyes.

"With a little time and mana, forcing it to go berserk is child's play."

Sure enough, the heating magic spiraled out of control, turning the would-be assassins into sitting ducks.

Fwoooosh!

And in a cramped, enclosed space like a carriage… if a big fire broke out?

Bang!

"There it is."

As expected, the carriage door burst open.

In life-or-death situations, living creatures always sought survival.

Even the most disciplined soldiers would instinctively look for a way out when their life was on the line — whether to escape or to vent the smoke.

The moment the door opened — just as he had planned — the Skeleton King summoned all his strength and crawled toward it.

Since he was the one who made the magic go berserk, controlling the flames to avoid himself was easy.

"Freedom!"

But just then—

"You little brat."

?!

Thwack!

A razor-sharp sensation tore into his back.

"Guh…!"

A sword.

The blade sliced through his tender skin — and the searing pain exploded beyond imagination.

The wet, sticky feeling was unmistakably blood.

Turning his head, he saw the scorched servants glaring at him.

And the Skeleton King realized his mistake.

The raging flames had disappeared.

The mana core powering the magic must've shattered.

"Damn it… The mana core was too cheap to handle it!"

He had manipulated the carriage's magic structure to force the spells into overdrive — but had overestimated its durability.

In simple terms — he had temporarily boosted a rank 1 spell to the power of a rank 2 spell — but the low-grade mana core installed in the carriage couldn't withstand it.

"I even adjusted for that… what a piece of junk."

It wasn't that he, a 10th-circle mage, had made a mistake.

It was simply that the magic cores used by the demon faction — no matter how low-grade — were never this weak.

There was no doubt about it now — the quality between the human faction's cores and the demon faction's was on an entirely different level.

Well, it made sense. This was the Holy Empire, after all. It wasn't exactly known for its development of magic cores.

"Damn it… there aren't any more cores nearby."

That meant he couldn't use magic.

In that moment, a servant's rough hand clamped down on the Skeleton King's arm.

Clack!

Tch.

The Skeleton King scowled.

He still couldn't use holy arts.

At this rate, he might have to abandon the idea of preserving his body or saving a high-quality core — and forcefully open his mana circuits.

But then — it happened.

Flash!

"Guh…!"

A burst of holy light exploded from the Skeleton King's body. The servants trying to restrain him recoiled in shock.

Of course they did — because there was only one kind of light like this in the entire world.

"Holy power…!"

No — this wasn't just raw holy power.

'Sacred Arts…?'

If magic was sorcery that manipulated mana, then Sacred Arts were divine techniques that wielded holy power.

And there was no mistaking it.

'Body Enhancement Sacred Art?'

Naturally, the Skeleton King couldn't help but be intrigued.

These fools probably hadn't realized the true nature of this power yet — but he had.

'This is a technique that strengthens the body and enhances regenerative ability.'

Judging from its effects, it was around the 2nd-circle level — already sufficient for recognition as a low-rank priest's technique.

In fact, the pain he'd been feeling in his back was already disappearing.

'The wounds are healing.'

That pleased him — but it also confused him even more.

Because Sacred Arts were supposed to be usable only by priests and holy knights who had formed contracts with a god.

Had this body already formed a divine contract?

No — that couldn't be.

If that were the case, there's no way he wouldn't have sensed it.

'A low-rank technique it may be — but being able to use Sacred Arts without a divine contract?'

There was a reason he'd thought he wouldn't be able to use holy power yet.

If the Demon King's soul tried to form a divine contract without any sort of concealment, it would've been exposed instantly.

That's why he had even considered—

—pretending to be an incompetent, good-for-nothing noble until the right time came.

But this changed things.

'Does this mean I can use Sacred Arts without a contract?'

Perhaps because this body had already received an abundance of divine blessings?

Well — technically, a priest's oath and divine contract were simply agreements to become a servant of the gods in exchange for divine blessings, so it wasn't impossible.

In any case — this was excellent news.

'If I can use Body Enhancement here… the situation changes.'

He'd allotted five days to create a magic core within his body — a timeframe accounting for the fragile, infant-like state of his vessel.

But if his body wouldn't break—

'Five minutes!'

With Body Enhancement Sacred Art, he could probably endure normal weapon strikes for a short while!

Just as he thought that and reached out his hand — the servants suddenly dropped their swords.

Clang!

"…!"

The Skeleton King flinched in surprise.

What's this? Why are they dropping their weapons and approaching barehanded?

Don't tell me they're really planning to strangle me to death?

Well, from their perspective, he was an unknown entity who seemed to be using Sacred Arts.

It made sense to prioritize overwhelming him with brute strength before he could activate something like .

'Damn—'

It was then.

"You said he was just a Saint Candidate… but this is different!"

"That's right! To use Sacred Arts without even undergoing baptism… that's proof he's a true Saint!"

The servants' flustered reactions made the Skeleton King's eyes widen.

Wait, what?

This wasn't intentional — but from their perspective, this situation might actually be working in his favor as someone from the Holy Empire.

The corners of his mouth lifted.

'Well, my original plan was to take these fools down with magic and escape…'

But if things were heading in this direction, he was willing to overlook this little incident.

Not out of mercy — but because they could serve as convenient tools.

After all, in this tiny baby's body, wandering aimlessly in search of a home he didn't even know was absurd and irrational.

And right now — he had entered the body of a Saint of the Holy Empire.

It was about time to start adapting to a world ruled not just by power — but by reason and politics.

"This child shall not be killed."

Hearing the assassins' words, the Skeleton King smiled in satisfaction.

'Yes, yes. Needless conflict is never good. If they've changed their minds…'

"We won't kill him. We'll abduct him."

…Never mind. Let's just kill them all.

Light flared from the Skeleton King's body.