Chapter 75: Demigods and Dusty Roads
The caravan moved steadily across the gravel-strewn path, wheels crunching rhythmically against the earth. Isaac walked alongside the second wagon, his hands behind his head, while Lira lounged on top of a stack of crates, one leg swinging lazily off the edge.
Renall rode up beside them on horseback, reins loose in hand. He wore his usual half-smile, the one that said he knew more than he let on.
"You two look more relaxed than I expected," he said, eyeing Isaac. "Considering you vaporized a cult leader last week."
Isaac gave a half-shrug. "He was… less intimidating in person."
"You made an S-rank cult leader explode like wet parchment," Lira added helpfully.
Renall's eyebrow twitched. "He was an S-rank?"
Isaac blinked. "Wait, that was actually confirmed?"
"Oh, very much so. Nobody went after him because everyone who tried disappeared. That's the kind of power that makes guilds hesitate and priests reconsider their careers."
Isaac scratched his cheek, looking genuinely puzzled. "Then why were his stats so low?"
Renall chuckled. "Stats alone don't define everything. But… speaking of which." He leaned forward in the saddle. "You've piqued my curiosity. What is your power level?"
Isaac hesitated. "Do you mean my stats, my skills, or the part where I make reality cry when I sneeze?"
Renall burst out laughing. "All of it. But mostly, I want to give you some context. You're strong. Ridiculously so. But how do you stack up against the world's actual top tiers?"
Isaac nodded slowly. "That's exactly what I've been wondering. I'm powerful—but what is powerful, exactly?"
Renall's tone turned serious, eyes scanning the caravan ahead. "Most adventurers never reach A-rank. To even qualify for S-rank, you need at least one confirmed S-rank skill, and—this is critical—you must have at least three base stats over 100."
Isaac tilted his head. "That's all?"
Renall raised a hand. "Don't underestimate it. Three stats over 100 is no joke. For most, even one stat breaking the triple-digit mark is considered the peak of human potential. Anyone with three is borderline inhuman."
"And if they have all that?"
"They're officially designated as 'S-rank Adventurers.' But unofficially?" Renall leaned closer, voice dropping. "They're called Demigods. Not by title. By respect. By fear."
Lira perked up. "Wait, so Isaac…"
"Surpasses that," Renall finished, not even trying to hide his awe. "If those numbers you casually flashed in Karlune were real—and I have no reason to think they weren't—you're not just S-rank. You're something else. Something unprecedented."
Isaac rubbed his neck. "I just wanted to be strong enough not to die in a ditch. Didn't expect to be categorized next to mythology."
Renall smiled. "Well, try not to vaporize any small villages and you should be fine."
Lira looked down at Isaac. "Should we start demanding offerings and temples? Maybe a statue?"
Isaac narrowed his eyes. "If you start calling me 'Lord Demigod of the West,' I'm throwing you in the next river."
Lira held up her hands innocently. "I was thinking more 'Flame Emperor,' but sure."
They laughed, the tension of uncertainty fading a little with each step forward.
As the caravan crested the next hill, the Velkarth Basin sprawled out before them—vast, wild, and unexplored.
Isaac took a breath of the dry wind. He was ready to learn what the world truly had to offer—and maybe meet others who bore the weight of being more than mortal.
But for now, he was just a very strong man, on a very dusty road, with a snarky girl and too many legendary skills.