Ur
When he opened his eyes again, Reed was standing in the middle of a vast, barren expanse. It was a desolate wasteland without even a single common weed.
And upon that wasteland rested a tortoise.
It was a creature so colossal that no word in Reed’s vocabulary could possibly describe it. Ochre-hued, the giant tortoise exuded an aura both aloof and utterly overwhelming.
Reed stared up at it in a daze.
It had to be a dream. Surely, it could only be a dream. There was no way such an alien spectacle could be reality.
Yet the crushing pressure radiating from the creature possessed a power far beyond Reed’s imagination. Dreams, after all, were merely the brain cobbling together fragments of memory and fancy. This was no dream.
“W-Who are you?” Reed stammered before he could stop himself.
The tortoise answered simply.
“I am Ur. The goddess who watches over the earth.”
The booming voice reverberated straight through his mind. Though they stood in a wide, open expanse, the sound echoed in waves, dulling his ears as if his eardrums had ruptured.
“I-I see...”
Reed immediately dropped to his knees. Here in the west, mythical entities—old gods, demons, and spirits—were far from scarce. And mortals who crossed paths with such mighty beings almost always met ruin.
I’m in deep trouble.
Cold sweat trickled down his forehead. Where on earth had he gotten tangled up with something like this? His mind racing desperately, Reed kept his forehead pressed to the soil.
Ur gazed down at him with satisfaction. It was the look of a grandmother doting on an admirable grandson.
“I have received the offerings you have faithfully laid before me. For a youngster of this era, you certainly know your manners.”
“Pardon?”
“To offer so many sacrifices! You must surely desire tremendous power.”
“Pardon...?”
“It has been ages since mortals last worshipped me, but the feeling is not at all unpleasant. Yes. Speak your desire, my child!”
Their conversation was running entirely on parallel tracks.
Offerings? Power?
Reed barely had enough to survive day by day—how could he have offered anything of the sort?
Swallowing hard, Reed asked tentatively, “Uh... well. Lady Ur. When you speak of offerings, what exactly do you mean...?”
“Hmm? Did you not continually offer me human corpses? At times, you even buried them alive. Even among my high priests of old, few presented so many offerings in such a brief span.”
So that’s what it was!
Reed had buried countless corpses on orders from the Black Blade Gang. Two or three a week on average, and whenever turf wars broke out in the slums, he had to bury whole batches at a time. He must have put at least three digits’ worth of bodies into the dirt.
And as fate would have it, the vacant lot where he had been burying them was the ruins of an ancient temple dedicated to Ur.
Well... I suppose even an ordinary demon would be touched after getting that many bodies.
Now he understood the situation. The question was, how should he handle this? Should he be honest? Confess that he had no idea she existed and never intended them as offerings?
What would be the point of that?
This was a monumental opportunity—a chance to drag himself out of the slums, away from a life spent cleaning up after scumbags. Intended or not, the offerings were made, so there was no reason to deny it now. Besides, having just double-crossed the Black Blade Gang, Reed craved power more desperately than ever.
Ur tilted her massive head, sounding slightly puzzled. “Was there some misunderstanding?”
Reed moistened his dry lips and answered smoothly: “Of course not. In truth, I have revered you for a long time, Lady Ur. It was only that your name had been forgotten in human society, so I did not know how to address you properly.”
“Yes! I knew it! Given the sheer volume of offerings you presented, the depth of your devotion must surely be just as vast! Hahaha!” The colossal tortoise chuckled warmly—astonishingly, even a tortoise could show expression—before asking, “Speak your desire, child. Do you seek power?”
“Power? Yes, yes! Absolutely!”
He had no idea what kind of power it might be, but Reed figured taking whatever he could get was the only sensible choice.
Ur then asked, “Then why is it that you desire power?”
“Pardon?”
The question gave Reed pause. Why did he want power? On a simple level, to survive. After all, a gang was out to kill him this very moment.
Yet the depths of the ancient tortoise’s eyes demanded something more. Why did he need power? To survive. Then why did he want to survive? That was...
After a long silence, Reed bowed his head low.
“I want to learn.”
“Hmm?”
“I want to study. I want to go to school, and I want to learn a trade. I’m sick of being called an ignorant brat, and I never want to be despised as uneducated again.”
He wanted to survive so he could learn. He desired power so he could learn.
“Learning, is it? Then will you swear upon your life to dedicate yourself to that pursuit?”
Dedicate his life. The sheer weight of those words made Reed flinch, but there was only one answer he could give.
“I swear it.”
“Very well!”
Ur brought her massive foot down with a thunderous thud. The entire expanse convulsed as if caught in a violent earthquake. Before Reed, the soil surged upward, revealing a light-brown clay tablet.
“Since you yearn so deeply for learning, I shall bestow upon you knowledge commensurate with the offerings you have laid, along with the magical power to wield it. This is the wisdom held within the earth.”
Reed stared up at Ur blankly. The great tortoise gave a slow, deliberate nod, as if to say it was his rightful due.
Carefully, Reed picked up the clay tablet. It was densely inscribed with unfamiliar characters, yet despite being illiterate in this world, Reed found he could read them effortlessly.
The script upon the clay tablet flared to life, rising from the surface and plunging directly into Reed’s eyes. Mystical knowledge flooded his mind, and his consciousness began to blur.
"Remember this, child like wild weed."
"All things are born of the soil and unto the soil they shall return, for the earth never forgets blood."
"Enrich the earth with flesh and blood! Bury deep within my embrace all that deserves to fade!"
"Never forget your oath!"
With Ur’s voice ringing in his head, Reed’s consciousness slowly sank into darkness.
When Reed opened his eyes, his entire body was drenched in cold sweat.
Was it a dream?
It had been far too vivid for a mere dream. Even now, the booming voice of that gargantuan tortoise seemed to echo in his ears. Moreover, an alien energy was churning within his chest. It was hard to put into words—almost as if a second heart had formed inside him.
Sitting dazed, Reed opened and clenched his fists over and over.
Ur had not bothered to explain what she had granted him, yet the arcane knowledge she bestowed was etched deep into his mind. Reaching forward, Reed instinctively unleashed his newfound power. The foreign energy coiled in his chest surged outward.
⟨ Earth Control ⟩
Soil rose into the air, moving this way and that in obedience to his will. With gestures of his hands, he split the earth into two streams, then sent it swirling in circles above his head.
It was an intoxicating experience. Mouth agape, Reed played with the soil like a child in a sandbox, completely lost in the motion. Then, all at once, his concentration snapped, and the hovering dirt tumbled down onto his head.
“Ah.”
Only then did he snap back to his senses, realizing what he had just done.
Magic. A supernatural power reserved for the talented and fortunate few in this world. Having acquired such an extraordinary ability through the most unexpected turn of events, he could consider himself remarkably lucky.
Then again... with a gang hunting me down, maybe not entirely lucky.
Reed’s expression hardened.
The Black Blade Gang had an ironclad rule: hunt down traitors to the ends of the earth. It wasn't out of any deep affection for Idiot Joe, but because an organization couldn't survive without enforcing that kind of terror.
Fighting them off with this new magic... is probably out of the question.
Manipulating dirt had potential, but it was nowhere near enough to take on dozens of hardened thugs rushing him at once. He had to run. Far away, somewhere the gang's reach could never extend, and he had to leave immediately.
And in a city where the gang had eyes on every street, there was only one place to flee.
“Step right up! Anyone seeking a fresh start! Anyone who wants to strike it rich! Anyone tired of starving who wants land of their own! Sign up now! The West is waiting for you!”
Hesitating for only a moment, Reed steeled his resolve and approached the recruiter. He had no other choice.
“Excuse me. When does this wagon leave?”
“Hmm? We're heading west shortly.”
“Can I go to the West too?”
“Well, now...” The recruiter looked Reed up and down—a scruffy boy who looked like a runaway from a mile away.
A brat this young won't last long in the frontier.
Not that it was the recruiter's problem. His commission grew with every body he shipped out. Putting on a genial smile, the recruiter said, “Of course! You certainly can. Join now, and you'll even receive six loaves of bread and a sturdy pack!”
“Then please let me on.”
“Haha, come right this way. Any luggage to bring?”
“No.”
He had nothing to his name except the iron shovel in his hand. There was no reason to dally.
Reed boarded the large wagon drawn by four horses. Packed like sardines, passengers were already squeezed tightly inside. Tense murmurs filled the air, though a few eyes gleamed with raw anticipation.
All eyes turned to Reed when he climbed aboard. Most were irritated at losing what little space they had, but seeing he was just a kid, they quickly lost interest. A few passengers, however, noticed he was entirely alone and smirked. It was an ugly, predatory grin.
A famous saying of this land came unbidden to Reed's mind.
Commit a crime and you go to hell; commit a grave sin and you go to the Western Frontier.
The Emperor of the Empire was a warmonger obsessed with territorial expansion, and his second obsession after conquest was pioneering the West. Frontier settlement demanded vast numbers of people, but no sane person would willingly charge into the peril of the Demonic Borderlands.
So the Emperor began dumping people into the Western Demon Realm.
Nobles ousted in political struggles.
Criminals.
Debtors.
Opportunists seeking a windfall.
Dark mages.
Demon worshippers.
Cultists.
Political dissidents.
War prisoners.
All the societal dregs unable to integrate into civilization were herded west, turning the Western Frontier into little more than a massive trash bin. And now, Reed was heading straight into that trash bin. A child, yet one carrying the memories of a past life and wielding the extraordinary power of magic.
Can I survive?
There was no telling. Neither of his two lives had been smooth sailing, and the West was a different beast entirely. Still, if he gave it his all, he would find a way to live somehow.
Well, it's not like I haven't died once already.
He decided to put his mind at ease. Worrying wouldn't fix anything anyway.
“Alright! Moving out!”
Passing through the city gates, the wagon trundled westward. Ahead rose the majestic stone wall—tall, thick, unyielding, and stretching so far in both directions that the ends were lost to sight.
The Great Wall.
Once past that wall, they would truly be in the Demonic Borderlands. The passengers buzzed with nervous whispers as they looked up at the towering ramparts. Reed gazed up in awe as well, until his eyes locked with a man across from him.
He had an unkempt beard and greasy hair that looked as though water hadn't touched it in months. Catching Reed's eye, the man flashed a sinister grin, baring a grotesque mouthful of missing teeth.
Reed let out a quiet curse.
“Damn it.”
It looked like his troubles were starting before they even arrived. Regardless, the wagon rolled on, finally passing through the gates of the Great Wall. It was the moment Reed set foot into the Western Demon Realm.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Where the hell is Joe?!”
“I-I don't know, Boss...”
“You don't know?! That all you got to say, you useless piece of shit?!”
Lester, deputy boss of the Black Blade Gang that ruled the city's underbelly, hurled his drinking glass across the room. Struck squarely on the forehead, the subordinate cowered, wearing the most pitiful expression in the world.
Gnawing ferociously on his fingernails, Lester muttered like a lunatic.
“Fuck, fuck. Who could've guessed that little girl wandering alone in the street was the Evergreen daughter? Why does this shit always happen to me? And where the hell is the boss at a time like this...?!”
“...”
“No. We're still fine. We make that orphan brat bury her, and we keep our mouths shut tight. They won't slaughter everyone in the slums. Even House Evergreen couldn't pull that off. Right. That's right.”
Watching their second-in-command frantically questioning and answering himself like a madman, the underlings only exchanged nervous glances. Lester's plan was plausible enough. Not ideal, but decent given the circumstances. All they needed was for Idiot Joe to return after putting the Evergreen girl in the dirt, and they would be in the clear.
Right then, a subordinate keeping watch outside stumbled back in, gasping for air.
“D-Deputy Boss!”
“What now?! Why are you back instead of Joe?!”
“It's bad! The city watch has the Evergreen girl! Joe must've botched it!”
“That idiot bastard...!” Pale as a ghost, Lester sprang to his feet. “We run. Now! Scatter and get out of the city! That's the only way any of us survive! Find the boss and—”
Footsteps echoed as someone entered the building.
It was a middle-aged gentleman with a finely groomed mustache. At his hip hung an unnaturally long greatsword, yet not a single thug dared mock it as mere bluster.
The man exuded an unmistakable aura of command. Not the petty cruelty of cheap thugs like the Black Blade Gang, but the chilling presence of a true killer. Frozen where they stood, the gangsters stared in dumbstruck silence.
The gentleman spoke with cool indifference: “I have only one question. Is the boy who rescued the young lady here? A boy with brown hair and brown eyes, I am told.”
“...”
Lester could only flap his mouth soundlessly. His face was answer enough.
The gentleman let out a soft sigh.
“Good grief. This will take some time to track down.”
That day, the Black Blade Gang was wiped from the city. A fitting price for their foolishness in picking the wrong target.