Repeat Vice - The Villainous Noble Doesn't Want to Die, So He Swore to Not Die As One of The Four Heavenly Kings - Chapter 93: The Dark Reaper I

Chapter 93:  The Dark Reaper I

The time rewinds to about a year ago. This was shortly after the incident in the Sky City and after hiding the Demon King Rath in a separate residence.

The location was near the main city of the Lightless territory, in a vast underground space far from human settlements, carved deep into a rocky mountain. The stone floors, walls, and ceiling were coated with a special technique. Countless torches on the walls burned with a dim flame, making the darkness even darker.

This place was a training ground used by generations of the Lightless family. Even if extreme magic was used here, the specially coated stone plates covering the surface of the training ground would block all kinds of attack magic, and even if damaged, they would repair themselves over time.

This training ground was built several generations ago by a member of the Lightless family, making it the perfect place for magical training. Currently, Rofus sat cross-legged in the center of the training ground, quietly closing his eyes in meditation.

In the silence of the darkness, Rofus sharpened his magical power. Training for a magician is not just about casting spells at targets. It also involves confronting one’s own magic, feeling it, deepening the understanding of its characteristics, and enhancing one’s spirituality to approach the depths of magic.

However, it was rare for Rofus to come to this training ground. He usually dedicated 30 to 60 minutes a day to meditation to enhance the quality of his magical power.

The reason he came to the training ground for meditation this time was due to a recent anxiety about his own spirituality. This anxiety had been present since he began experiencing dreams of a story about two years ago, frequently feeling the presence of the “Shadow Wolf” within him.

Sometimes it would speak from within, and other times he would be consumed by the overflowing passion. The black emotions were so overwhelming that he couldn’t suppress them with his own will. Recently, when the Demon King Rath made him aware of Abel’s existence, this subconscious surfaced more prominently.

This was likely the consciousness of Rofus during his time as one of the Four Heavenly Kings—the “Shadow Wolf.” However, for Rofus, this was extremely troublesome. He had no interest in the thoughts of the “Defeated Shadow Wolf” and absolutely refused to have his body taken over and act out of control.

Even if it was undoubtedly another part of himself, he had no intention of walking the path of destruction by being swayed by the passion of a loser. If possible, he wanted to eliminate it, but even with his extensive magical knowledge, he couldn’t figure out how.

Thus, Rofus’ solution was to train his magic and mind to the extreme, leaving no gap for the “Shadow Wolf” to exploit. Hence the meditation. He had already been meditating for half a day since starting. The quality of his magic was significantly higher than before he started meditating.

However, he had not yet reached the pinnacle he aimed for. Rofus envisioned the high-density darkness—abyss—wielded by his father, Ludens. The more he enhanced the quality of his magic, the more distant the path seemed.

Rofus shook his head to clear his thoughts. Unnecessary thoughts and distractions lowered the quality of meditation. As he tried to deepen his consciousness to further refine his magic, footsteps echoed from the entrance of the training ground.

Immediately, the flames of the torches darkened and turned bluish-white, lighting up the dark training ground. The color change of the flames indicated another person had entered the training ground, as the flames changed color according to the magical nature of the user.

The flickering bluish-white flames illuminated the entrance. Standing there was an elderly man in black clothing, the former head of the Lightless family and Rofus’ grandfather, Rinus Ray Lightless.

“Oh-ho, you’re at it. But black flames, huh… My grandson is really gloomy,” Rinus laughed heartily, pointing at Rofus.

A vein throbbed on Rofus’ forehead.

*

“Grandfather… is there something you need?”

Rofus glared at his grandfather like a mortal enemy for interrupting his meditation. Despite the pressure, Rinus continued to grin.

“I heard you’re training, Rof. But isn’t it pointless? You’re already strong enough.”

Rofus’ emotions suddenly cooled. He silently conjured a dark ball in his hand, aiming it at Rinus.

“Leave. If you don’t want to die.”

“Huh? Why is my grandson aiming magic at me after such a long reunion?”

Rinus tilted his head in genuine confusion, but Rofus, too tired to deal with him, extinguished the magic and sat back down to resume his meditation.

“Oh? You’re not going to shoot?”

“…”

Rofus decided to ignore Rinus. His presence was a distraction, but dealing with such a person would only encourage him.

Seeing no response, Rinus crouched down like a sulking child and began drawing circles on the floor with his finger. However, when he realized Rofus wasn’t reacting, he stood up and quickly conjured a dark scythe, unleashing a massive dark slash at the meditating Rofus.

When the dark torrent cleared, a spherical dark wall protected Rofus.

The spherical dark barrier cracked and crumbled, revealing Rofus. He exuded an aura of murderous intent.

“Rejoice, old man. Today is the day you die,” Rofus said.

Behind him, countless dark spheres, Dark Balls, materialized. Rinus smirked with a combative gleam in his eyes.

“For your amount of magic, that’s pretty decent. Seriously, why are you trying to get even stronger?”

Rofus answered with a barrage of magic. High-powered Dark Balls were fired in unison. Before the dust could settle, a voice came from behind Rofus.

“I’ll ask you again, Rof. Why do you want to become so strong? Who are you trying to defeat?”

Rofus clicked his tongue and leaped back, putting distance between himself and Rinus. Rinus stroked his chin, noting Rofus’ reaction and fluid movement.

“Your reflexes are fast. Your physical enhancement is sufficient. The more I see, the less I understand why you need to become stronger.”

“Don’t measure me by your standards, you old relic. My goal is still ahead,” Rofus retorted.

“And what exactly is that goal?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Rofus bit out.

The reason why the members of the Lightless family seek strength is singular—to usurp the position of head of the family. The head of the Lightless family is determined by the strongest individual of the generation. To become the head, one must challenge the current head to a duel and defeat them.

Thus, the Lightless family has continuously passed down its strength through generations, earning respect from other nobles and even the royal family as one of the kingdom’s foremost martial houses.

Rofus aims to avoid a disgraceful death and become the head of the Lightless family. The pinnacle of his goal is his father, Rudens, who still stands as the head of the family.

However, Rinus tilted his head in confusion.

“But aren’t you already stronger than Rudens?”

“What…?”

Rofus frowned at Rinus’ words.

“Why don’t you challenge him? You can’t become the head until you’re an adult anyway.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rofus seethed, trembling with rage.

“You were defeated by Father, weren’t you? So you should understand his strength…!”

“Yeah, I lost. But if we fought again, I’d win.”

“You’re a child!”

Rinus remained nonchalant despite being called a child by his grandson, nearly half a century younger than him. Rinus tilted his head and stared intently at Rofus.

“Seriously, you have so much magic power, why not just keep blasting him from a distance? Sure, Rudens’ armor is tough, but if you keep hitting it with magic, it’ll eventually break. And if he gets close, just use teleportation to keep your distance.”

“What meaning is there in winning with such a foolish strategy!?” Rofus yelled.

Suddenly, the blade of a dark scythe, a Dark Scythe, was at Rofus’ neck, cutting his skin slightly and drawing a small amount of blood. Rinus had moved without a trace, his movements perfect.

“Foolish strategy? A win is a win, you idiot. Do you have the luxury to be picky about how you win? You underestimate Rudens too much.”

Rinus continued to speak to the immobilized Rofus.

“I read the report. Two years ago, you got your ass handed to you by a giant whale monster, didn’t you? Lost your left eye and arm, right?”

“…”

“And then in the Steria territory, you lost to some kid around your age too, didn’t you? How do you lose with that much magic power?”

“Shut up…!”

A high-density wave of magical power erupted from Rofus in response to his anger. Rinus remained calm, dispelling the Dark Scythe and opening his arms.

“Come on, hit me with your strongest magic. I’ll take your best shot head-on.”

Rinus smirked provocatively. Enraged, Rofus created a Dark Scythe in his hand, its blade enlarging as it consumed his magical power.

“I’ll make sure your funeral is grand. Be grateful, you old bastard.”

“Bring it on, my dear grandson.”

Rinus winked, and Rofus swung with all his might. The massive black slash engulfed half of the training ground in darkness.

*

When the dark torrent cleared, Rinus was still standing. His black robe was tattered, revealing a muscular body covered in old scars, signs of many battles. Despite taking Rofus’ full-force Dark Scythe, he stood without any serious injuries, having not even used defensive magic.

Rofus stared in shock at the sight. Rinus looked at him with boredom and disappointment.

“By the way, Rof, I told you to hit me with your strongest magic. Why didn’t you use the ‘Reaper’s Scythe’?”

“…!”

Speechless, Rofus stepped back. Rinus sighed and shrugged.

“Well, whatever. Now it’s my turn. I’ll use a Dark Scythe too…”

As Rinus spoke, a mist of darkness emanated from his body, enveloping him and transforming into a pitch-black robe. A hood concealed his face, leaving two blue-white flames peeking out from the gaps.

The eyes that stared at Rofus were no longer human. Rinus’ hands, now coated in darkness, conjured a Dark Scythe. His appearance was that of the Grim Reaper.

This form was the reason for the nickname given by the Empire more than half a century ago—the “Dark Reaper.”

‘Stop daydreaming and get ready—unless you want to die.’

His voice no longer human, Rinus swung his scythe down, sending a slash of darkness. The abyssal blackness, the visual embodiment of death, filled Rofus’ vision.