Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

A chilling wind swept through the ruins, carrying with it an eerie stillness that seemed to suffocate life itself.

Rhodes stood amidst the dilapidated city, his sharp gaze scanning the crumbling architecture. The ancient buildings, weathered and scarred by time, bore rough and primitive designs.

"This doesn't look like human craftsmanship," he murmured, his voice low but steady.

The structures were too massive and crude for modern orc architecture, resembling the long-lost style of the Ancient Orc Clan, ancestors of today's orcs. Unlike the more evolved orcs who now possessed intelligence and adopted human-like aesthetics, their forebears relied on brute strength and primal instincts.

Rhodes stepped deeper into the ruins, the silence around him amplifying the crunch of bone shards beneath his boots. His eyes landed on enormous skeletons—some towering over 30 meters, others lying in clusters. In the heart of the ruins, a skeletal beast of unfathomable size loomed, its remains exuding a sinister aura.

The earth trembled subtly, as if responding to an unseen force.

"The power of the God of Death?" Rhodes narrowed his eyes, his gaze fixed on the faint, spectral glow that rose from the center of the ruins.

The Death Mark etched onto his palm began to heat up slightly, reacting to the familiar energy emanating from the ruins. But this wasn't mere residual energy. No, this was pure, untainted, and alive—a force akin to facing death itself.

---

The Undead Horde Awakens

Without warning, the scattered bones across the ruins began to twitch and assemble themselves. Lifeless skeletons, reanimated by the aura of death, rose from the ground with soul flames igniting in their hollow eyes.

A colossal skeletal hand swiped down from the sky, aimed directly at Rhodes.

Before it could even graze him, the Grace of the Tornado erupted around his body, shredding the undead limb into dust.

"Futile," Rhodes muttered, taking another step forward. His God's Domain expanded, creating an invisible force field that crushed everything in its path.

The storm roared to life. Fierce winds howled, lightning crackled, and the undead army, numbering in the tens of thousands, was dragged into the merciless vortex.

"Return to dust where you belong," Rhodes declared, his voice calm yet commanding.

The storm intensified, tearing apart every undead creature until only bone powder remained in the air. Satisfied, he dismissed his domain and continued toward the heart of the ruins.

---

The Palace of the Ancient Orcs

As he approached, the ruins gave way to a towering palace carved from marble blocks. Its rough, imposing structure spoke of the Ancient Orc Clan's unyielding nature.

At the palace's entrance, rows of orc guards knelt in eternal vigilance, their weathered forms frozen in time. The faint glow of green flames in their eyes reignited as Rhodes neared, signaling their reawakening.

Slowly, the ancient warriors rose, their massive forms clad in rusted armor and armed with crude yet deadly weapons.

Rhodes did not flinch.

He vanished from sight, reappearing in an instant behind the kneeling figures.

"Commandments of the Divine: Kneel!"

His words resonated like the toll of a celestial bell. The orc guards, unable to resist the power of his decree, dropped to their knees.

"End yourselves."

As Rhodes strode into the palace, the sound of shattering bones echoed behind him, marking the end of their unholy vigil.

---

The Throne of the Lion King

Inside the palace, darkness enveloped everything. At the far end of the vast hall sat a lion-headed orc upon a throne of crude stone. Its massive frame, covered in dark golden fur, radiated an ominous aura.

A black gem embedded in its forehead pulsed with energy, emitting waves of death that filled the room.

"This is the source…" Rhodes muttered. The gem was undoubtedly imbued with the God of Death's power, fueling the lion orc's unnatural existence.

The creature rose, dragging its enormous sword across the ground. As it advanced, the oppressive force of its death-laden aura surged, causing the air to tremble.

It swung its weapon, unleashing a strike with power that could rival a Holy Realm warrior.

Yet, the blade never met its mark.

The moment it entered the range of Rhodes' Grace of the Tornado, the sword shattered into fragments, rendered powerless by the divine wind.

Rhodes stretched out his hand, his expression indifferent.

"Magic Seize."

The black gem on the lion orc's forehead was pulled away effortlessly, floating into Rhodes' palm. Stripped of its power source, the once-mighty lion orc disintegrated into dust, leaving nothing but silence behind.

---

Completing the Test

Rhodes held the death gem aloft, studying its ominous glow.

"That's one."

Though he could return to Count Ettel's palace and present the gem for the next test, Rhodes decided against leaving empty-handed.

Why settle for one gem when there were three more to claim?

With a flap of his wings, he soared toward the other three restricted areas, laying waste to their defenses and collecting all four gems.

By the time he returned to the Kingdom of Ettel, the city gates were abuzz with anticipation. The moment Rhodes presented the gems, the knights guarding the gates scrambled to escort him to the palace.

"Your Majesty awaits," one of the knights said, his tone reverent.

As Rhodes walked through the grand palace halls, flanked by awestruck knights, a faint smile played on his lips.

He was not here to simply pass the test. He was here to claim his prize—and the entire kingdom knew it.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Support the Translation! 🌐✨

20+ Advanced Chapters are currently available in Patreon, make sure to visit and support our team.

patreon.com/Immortal_author 

https://ko-fi.com/immortalauthor

https://discord.gg/KscfBegBPT