Unlimited Ambition

"I have spent far more time as an angel than as a human. It's no big deal at all."

"I admire your calm and collected personality—it would be even better if you could develop that personality a little more."

In which field?

"For example, revenge or something like that."

"Absolutely impossible."

"Speaking of which, you're so honest—aren't you afraid I'll really kill you?"

"Of course I'm afraid. But you won't kill me, right?" I said with a light laugh, extremely confident.

After hearing my words, Death became slightly agitated: "That's right, that's because—"

"—It's because I'm a very good toy." I interrupted her, then said to myself, "If you kill me, the Grim Reaper's life will go back to its old, extremely boring, and unbearable state, won't it?"

“…That’s right!!!!! You are my toy!!!!! Forever and ever!!!!! I can play with you however I want!!!!! Just be careful not to break you—you look tough though—that’s all!!!!!” Bellica roared, then raised her scythe high, ready to send me to the next world.

"Wait a minute! Can't I rest for a while?"

"—You are my toy! I can play with you whenever I want!!!! Also, your power has been sealed by me! You'll have to rely on yourself in the next dimension!!!!" Bellica said this, and then the scythe fell down.

As I watched my figure fade into nothingness and disappear completely, Bellica felt as if all her strength had been drained away, and she collapsed weakly to the ground, scythe in her hand.

"That's right... I should have known from the beginning that there was absolutely no way that I could be with that guy. The only fate awaiting me was to be killed by him when he became powerful enough—haha, haha, ahahahahahaha..."

A near-mad whisper echoed through Death's playground, lingering and refusing to fade...

Chapter One is really cold.

I wandered aimlessly through the snow-covered landscape. Looking around, I saw pine trees weighed down by thick snow, and occasionally I could hear a "crunch" sound. That was the sound of pine branches breaking under the weight of the snow.

It's so cold. I breathed on my hands and rubbed them together. Even though I was wearing a thick fur coat, I still felt the biting cold.

You can't wear gloves, otherwise you won't be able to draw your sword quickly. Similarly, you can't wear a hat, as it will obstruct your vision—in this world, sometimes attacks come from the sky—like that ice dragon we had as an extra meal yesterday—I don't know if that's the right name—of course, that pile of bones can't provide me with research data now either.

Whatever. Let's keep going like this. If I can't reach the next village before dark, I'm afraid I'll experience what it feels like to "freeze to death."

If that were really the case, that woman would definitely laugh at me to death.

As I thought this, I shook myself off the snow. Then I continued walking.

If the map dealer in Magdeburg wasn't lying to me, then at this pace, I should be able to reach the next village in another three to six hours.

I complained like that, then squeezed the horse's belly and sped up a little.

What a joke! In the worst-case scenario, it would be completely dark! Damn it, this is such a sloppy medieval-level cartography.

The continent I've descended upon this time is a strange world called Halkgenia. Swords and magic are plentiful. Mythical beasts and dragons are abundant, and all sorts of monsters, barbarians, the Inquisition… and so on are present. It's a typical medieval fantasy world.

And the place where I was born was at the so-called edge of the civilized world of the continent, the easternmost part of Gormania. This country, pieced together from eight electorates, a dozen counties, dozens of free cities, and many more smaller fiefdoms—it's hard to say whether it can really be called a country—boasts itself the title of an empire.

Although the so-called emperors of the empire were actually chosen by eight electors, which was quite different from the emperor in my mind who wielded absolute power and acted on behalf of Heaven, the vast majority of them—at least eight out of ten—ultimately ended up being beheaded. For example, Kondra IV a few years ago.

Therefore, what will become of Albrecht III, who has only recently ascended to the throne? Let us wait and see.

Speaking of which, that woman was truly ruthless. She said she would seal my power, and with a swish, she sealed it completely. Even the Heaven-Slaying Demon Sword and the Fallen Angel Battle Armor were sealed away. Now they are just ordinary, exceptionally sharp and exceptionally sturdy swords and armor.

Therefore, it does not provide any warmth.

This is such a hassle. Why didn't humans in this world evolve cold resistance like animals? Just like this white horse I'm riding. I muttered to myself as I continued to breathe on my hands and rub them together.

The advantage of speeding up the journey was obvious. Finally, after another four hours, I reached the village—if it could still be called a village.

Presumably, the villagers wouldn't set their houses on fire to keep warm, nor would they cut a big hole in their bodies just for fun.

Barbarians...

Hearing the heart-wrenching cries coming from not far away, I pursed my lips. Although somewhat reluctant, I couldn't just ignore it.

Immediately afterwards, I drew my Heaven-Slaying Sword—and then spurred my horse to charge toward the source of the cries!

The harsh winter is an extremely cruel test for everyone living on this land. This includes the savages who, on average, are over two meters tall, weigh over two hundred kilograms, never bathe, and exude a foul stench.

Therefore, they left their homes deep in the mountains and forests, and raided the villages of human settlers in groups to plunder food.

Centuries ago, when the war-torn serfs of Golmud arrived in this harsh world, clearing land and cultivating crops, this became another means of livelihood for the savage people living in the mountains. For both sides, it was commonplace. Of course, the settled villagers only heard about it secondhand, without experiencing it firsthand, because those who had were mostly dead.

At first, the village chief tried to avert the disaster by voluntarily surrendering some of his grain. The barbarian leader then negotiated with him, wielding his axe. The result was that several young men who dared to resist, along with the village chief's head and all the village's winter provisions, became the barbarians' spoils.

What followed was a massacre. All the villagers were gathered in an open space in the center of the village, and then their heads were cut off as a blood sacrifice to the blood god.

Come to think of it, this isn't the first time I've witnessed something like this. Of course, the time and setting vary—sometimes in villages, sometimes in towns, sometimes in caravans, sometimes among travelers. In short, on this land of complaints, there is absolutely no absolutely safe place. Nor is there anyone absolutely safe.

Therefore, a wandering knight like myself is very popular. Add to that a handsome appearance and formidable strength, and I'm practically destined to become a legend.

Ah, speaking of which, I've been doing this job for four years now. I've been doing this since I was eight years old. Every day I'm circling around blizzards, barbarians, and monsters.

But there was nothing I could do about it. Perhaps they felt my abilities were already sufficient. This time, death didn't grant me ideal starting conditions at birth. They simply threw me into a very ordinary farmhouse. My mother died in childbirth. My father was conscripted and died somewhere unknown. I was forced to start living on the streets at the age of eight. By the following year, I heard that my village had been robbed, and hundreds of people had been beheaded as a blood sacrifice to the god of blood.

Just like it is now.

The barbarians were startled by the sudden attack, but when they realized their opponent was just one person, and appeared to be only twelve or thirteen years old, they burst into laughter. The villagers, whose hopes had just begun to rise, lost their composure once more. After all, their current appearance as a teenager was hardly reliable.

The first barbarian to charge swung his axe, intending to cut me and my horse in two. This would be highly unlikely for an ordinary human, but for the thick-skinned barbarian, it was a piece of cake.

Then, as the warhorses charged faster and faster, the barbarian held his breath, waiting for the impending moment—to swing his giant axe—and then watch the spectacle of heads flying—before he realized that his hands had inexplicably lost control. His brain had clearly issued the command to swing, but his hands wouldn't carry it out. At the same time, behind him, his barbarian companions cried out in surprise—he looked down and discovered that both his arms had been severed in the instant they met!

Immediately afterwards, it was his head that flew high into the air.

The barbarians behind him roared and charged forward without hesitation, filled with rage, intending to use their numerical advantage to crush me.

However, the knight's charge did not stop. Like an arrow released from a bow, he pierced straight into the loosely organized ranks of the barbarians. His longsword, wielded impenetrably, deflected every attack aimed at himself and his mount. It was merely a one-handed sword strike, yet he effortlessly parried the force of a barbarian wielding a two-handed giant axe. It was simply unbelievable.

And so, I completed one excavation, leaving behind a dozen or so mutilated corpses. Then came the second. The number of barbarians dwindled to single digits. The few remaining barbarians exchanged glances, then ran towards the villagers.

"Hostages?" I scoffed, then drew several throwing knives from the scabbard on the outside of my fur coat, piercing the back of each barbarian's head with a single blow—however, one lucky barbarian escaped unscathed. Just before the knife was launched, he ran into the crowd, grabbed a little girl, and held her by the neck with one hand.

"Don't come any closer! Or I'll snap her neck!" the barbarian shouted.

I frowned, then reached into the scabbard.

"Don't try anything funny! Throwing knives aren't that fast!!" he shouted after seeing my movements. At the same time, he tightened his grip on the little girl's neck.

“Indeed, it would be better if he had a pistol.” I said casually, “Alright, let go of the child. You can go now.”

Why should I believe you?

"Why should I... It's hard to say." I slowly extended my hand from the scabbard, puzzled. The barbarian watched my hand with great tension until he saw that it was completely empty, and then he breathed a sigh of relief.

"I want to take this little girl with me!" the barbarian declared. The little girl, terrified, burst into tears.

"That's not a good idea... How about you release her and I'll be your hostage?" I said with a smile, my lips trembling slightly as I uttered a few very small syllables—at that moment, the barbarian suddenly noticed that my palm was reflecting a rainbow of light.

"—Oh no! This pretty boy is cheating!" The barbarian's heart skipped a beat, and then he tightened his grip, ready to kill!

He was just a step too slow, and my transparent crystal wand suddenly flashed! In an instant, it fired several light spears as fine as hair, riddling the barbarian's head with holes.

What a nuisance. Humans in this world even need wands to cast spells. Thinking this, I jumped off my horse, walked over to the little girl, and smiled at her, saying, "It's alright now."

"Wah...Mommy!" The little girl finally couldn't hold back anymore and hugged me, crying her eyes out.

The plundered village, the bloodthirsty barbarians, and the knight who suddenly appeared as a savior. And so the day ended.

Chapter Two: The Wolf of the Far North II

After that, I once again enjoyed the treatment of a hero, the cheers of the crowd, and the enthusiastic gazes of the girls—the latter of which I found a little overwhelming.

"Alright. Now is not the time to relax. Please put out the fire quickly and dispose of the barbarian corpses—it's best to burn them. That way, we won't attract wolves. Also, we need to pay more attention to the defense of our village from now on. There should be a blacksmith in the village, right? Make some weapons for self-defense. The villagers should also intensify their training during the off-season. After all, I can't always appear in time."

After I finished speaking, I turned around, mounted my horse, and prepared to leave.

“Um—please at least let us treat you to something. Although we are just very poor farmers, we can still offer you some simple food. In addition, we have prepared a small gift…” an old man stepped forward and said.

"I'm sorry. I'm in a hurry, so I'll pass on the gifts. I think you'll need them more than I do." As I said this, I nudged the horse's belly, and it began to trot.

"At least leave your name so we know which hero saved us!" the old man shouted behind me.

"Wright Baldwin! You can also call me Fenrir the Winter Wolf!" I quickened my pace and soon disappeared from sight.

"Ah! It really is that person! I never imagined he'd be even younger than the rumors!"

A hunter who frequently went into town to sell furs exclaimed in surprise. He was immediately surrounded by others.

"What happened? Have you heard about that person?" the others asked excitedly.

“That’s right! I’ve heard a lot of rumors about Fenrir the Winter Wolf in the taverns in town—the same man who just saved our village. I thought it was all a bit of an exaggeration. But after seeing him in person, I don’t think so at all.”

"Tell us quickly!" the others urged.

"That gentleman has already told us his name. He is Wright Baldwin. He is said to be a descendant of a fallen noble family. He came to the borderlands to live the life of a wandering knight from the age of eight."

"So young?!" others exclaimed.

“Yes, I also found it unbelievable at the time. But after seeing him again today, I know that this statement is indeed true. Look at that adult, he looks only twelve or thirteen years old, right? And he started venturing into the border region four years ago, when he was about eight years old.”

"Oh..." the onlookers exclaimed in surprise.

"Come to think of it, I've heard of him before," said another villager who frequented the town. "They say this lord wears silver-gray armor and wields a longsword with imposing grandeur. He's extremely skilled in both swordsmanship and magic. He's kind-hearted and hates evil. Whether it's bandits, barbarians, magical beasts, or orcs, none are his match. There are even rumors that he once defeated a giant dragon!"

"Is it a flying dragon?" a villager asked.

"No, no, no, it's not the kind of flying dragon that people ride. It's a huge frost dragon that's tens of meters tall and can block out the sun like a dark cloud."

"It's absolutely incredible."

"Furthermore, this lord seems to have very lofty ambitions. A few years ago, after he had just made a name for himself, a nearby earl wanted to recruit him as a family knight. This was an opportunity that most people couldn't even dream of, but this lord refused without hesitation. Later, his fame grew even greater. Several electors of the empire, and even the emperor himself, wanted to recruit him, but none of them succeeded. In the end, however, that lord formed his own knightly order, the Fenrir Wolf Knights of the far north."

"Yes, speaking of which, this knightly order doesn't have much influence around here. But a little further east, that knightly order is said to have already controlled several towns as their direct territories."

"That's true. It's said that some of those territories were seized from infidels, and others from barbarians. That lord is not only powerful in battle, but also a very capable commander."

"Oh dear, then the people in that lord's territory must be living very well."

"That's natural, the taxes are set very low. And with that esteemed person in charge, there's no need to fear attacks."

"But why would such an important person come here?"

At this moment, I'm heartbroken. If I'd known that killing all those barbarians wouldn't quell my rage, I might as well have killed all the villagers too. Damn it, I miscalculated.

Once again, I didn't find Yuki. Sometimes I wonder: is the Grim Reaper lying to me, that Yuki was never sent into this world at all? But whenever a girl with similar appearance and personality to Yuki appears, I still rush over. Time and time again, I run there excitedly, only to return disappointed each time.

So, I need to vent a little.