His voice was lighthearted, devoid of tension.
The man who appeared looked to be in his early thirties. He had casually cut blond hair and stood at an unremarkable height.
But his physique told another story. Beneath his light armor, his body was well-trained, hardened by years of battle. Without a weapon, he might have been mistaken for a bandit. But there was something in his demeanor—calculated, relaxed, yet undeniably dangerous.
"Who are you?"
The demon tensed.
The sword in the man's hand radiated magical energy, its silver glow illuminating the battlefield.
Three more figures stepped forward behind him.
A female monk. A warrior with a spear. A mage with a staff.
A group of adventurers.
The demon let out a low growl and drew his own weapon—a massive, jagged greatsword.
"My name is Rainer."
His tone was indifferent.
"Not that it matters. Soon, your head will be rolling on the ground, so there's no point remembering it."
The demon's crimson eyes glowed with fury.
"You think a mere human can kill me?"
"I'm just here for the money." Rainer shrugged. "You know, there's a hefty bounty on your head. After all, you've slain quite a few would-be heroes. That boy at your feet—"
He glanced at Dorian's lifeless body.
"—Was he another one? A poor soul chosen by the Prophet?"
The demon snarled.
"Keep talking."
"Oh, I intend to. After all, you've just raised my bounty again. So, I should be thanking you." Rainer smirked. "It's tragic, really. Looks like you and that kid just had an unlucky day. Maybe in the afterlife, you two can comfort each other. 'Well, sometimes things just don't go your way.' I'm sure the gods will sympathize."
Enraged, the demon swung its greatsword.
The air howled as the massive blade slashed downward. But Rainer had already moved.
In a blur, he stepped inside the demon's reach.
A flash of silver.
A deep gash appeared across the demon's torso.
"Fast." The demon's expression twisted in pain. "Not many humans can move like that."
Before it could react, Rainer struck again. His blade found its mark—piercing deep into the demon's throat.
Blood gushed from the wound.
The demon staggered, its eyes wide with disbelief.
"Well," Rainer chuckled, twisting the blade before yanking it free, "I guess today just wasn't your day."
The demon collapsed with a heavy thud.
Even with its monstrous resilience, it would not rise again.
"You still have a talent for pissing demons off. That's probably your greatest gift."
The warrior with the spear spoke, his tone dry. He was tall, with graying hair and a perpetually bored expression.
"Being the best at anything has its perks, Efren." Rainer grinned. "Thanks to that, I get to hunt demons and make a fortune."
He was completely unfazed by the sarcasm.
"Looks like this one was useless after all."
The mage adjusted her glasses, her long black hair catching the light with a faint violet sheen.
Nearby, the red-haired monk knelt beside Dorian's body, murmuring a quiet prayer.
Rainer walked over and crouched beside the fallen hero. He rifled through his pockets.
"Rainer, stop looting the dead."
The monk's voice was quiet but filled with pain.
"I'm the one digging his grave. I think I deserve a little something for my troubles."
"Rainer."
The monk—Nina—looked at him with weary disapproval.
"Whether the gods are watching or not, what you're doing is shameful."
"Then they'll watch."
Rainer gave her a sarcastic smile and pulled a leather pouch from Dorian's corpse.
The act was enough to make me want to avert my gaze.
I had seen countless humans act selfishly. Yet, something about this moment felt different.
"Rainer, do you truly believe the gods don't care about what we do?"
"I believe they don't care enough to stop me."
His reply was laced with amusement.
"But that's fine. I'm not here to punish the Dark Overlord's army. I'm not here to save humans, either." He pocketed the coins. "I'm here to survive. That's all."
Nina lowered her head, despair flickering in her eyes.
The mage—Sophia—sighed and crossed her arms.
"No one benefits from leaving money to rot in the dirt. The dead don't need gold. The living do."
Rainer was as greedy as the rumors claimed.
I watched as Efren and Rainer dug a shallow grave while Nina recited another prayer.
Her voice was beautiful, soft yet steady, carrying the weight of sorrow and hope alike. It was the kind of prayer that could stir even the most hardened heart.
And to my surprise—
Rainer closed his eyes.
He stood there, silent, his expression unreadable as he listened to the monk's words.
This was the same man who claimed he had no faith.
The same man who looted the pockets of the dead without hesitation.
For the first time, I found myself curious about him.
Rainer was unlike any of the heroes I had chosen before.
He lacked conviction.
He lacked morality.
And yet…
Perhaps that was precisely why I found myself hesitating.
There was still time in this World Composition.
Failure was inevitable. I knew that.
But maybe, just this once—
I would let things play out to the end.