Chapter 6: The Weight of the Choice

KARMA: Kill Me or Love Me

Chapter 6: The Weight of the Choice

Beneath the somber canopy of Lunira’s forest, where the twin suns’ rays barely pierced the dense foliage, my life had descended into chaos ever since I crossed paths with Tiera Urahica Freya, the Demon Lord of the Tower of Doom. After our fateful encounter, she decided to take up residence in my humble abode while I grappled with her maddening ultimatum: kill her or join her as her partner atop the Sky Tower. She gave me one week to decide, but her so-called “generosity” came with a chilling threat—if she didn’t like my choice, she’d end me without hesitation.

To ensure I wouldn’t flee, she cast a tracking spell on me, an invisible chain of magic that followed me wherever I went. Each step I took felt watched, as if her shadowy aura lingered over me even in her absence. It was grossly unfair. She’d merely granted me a few extra days to delay the inevitable doom. As a dwarf, I was swift and strong, but in the face of her overwhelming power, my abilities were like ashes scattered by the wind.

In the three days Tiera had spent in my home, she’d reduced me to her personal servant. From the meals she demanded—always gourmet and meticulously prepared—to the rearrangement of my cramped living quarters, she ordered me around as if I were her lackey. One day, she insisted I wash her clothes, and when I dared to grumble, she fixed me with a chilling smile and said, “If you don’t, I’ll end you right now.” That smile, paired with her commanding presence, was a stark reminder that, spoiled brat or not, she was still the Demon Lord.

I couldn’t decipher her true intentions behind asking me to join her in the Sky Tower. Did she want a partner, or merely a servant to obey her every whim for eternity? The idea of being her companion was hard to swallow. As a dark dwarf with a fearsome appearance, I harbored no illusions that someone like her could love me. In our conversations, she revealed that she sought a companion from Earth, like herself, because she didn’t consider Lunira’s monsters and humans “real” beings. “They’re all like programmed robots,” she said one evening, as we ate roasted wild boar. “Not one of them believes our stories about the goddess and her roulette.”

I understood her perspective. If I hadn’t experienced it myself, I wouldn’t believe tales of a goddess and her cosmic game of chance either. But our shared connection to Earth wasn’t enough to make me blindly agree to her plan. Despite the loneliness she endured, her impulsive nature and frequent threats raised red flags. Would life in the Sky Tower bring me happiness, or would I merely trade one prison for another, enslaved by a Demon Lord I couldn’t defy?

She also spoke of Lunira’s traditions. Even as the Demon Lord, she was bound by this world’s rules. As the supreme ruler of the Sky Tower, she couldn’t abandon her territory, not even for a brief respite. “Adventurers keep coming, hoping to defeat me,” she said, her voice heavy with ennui. “But none have reached the top. That’s why I need your help—to end this.”

Today, I was outside my territory, trudging through the forest to hunt wild boar and fetch clean water from a distant stream. Tiera demanded “delicious dishes” for every meal, so I had to prepare special food three times a day. It wasn’t a bad arrangement, since we both ate the meals, but the relentless task of cooking, coupled with guarding my territory against stray adventurers, was exhausting. My days felt like a maze of chores, and the tracking spell on my body was a constant reminder of my lack of freedom.

“Why are there so few small monsters around here?” I muttered, my boots sinking into the forest’s damp earth. The air was quiet, save for the chirping of birds and the occasional rustle of leaves. My crossbow hung from my shoulder, ready for any threat, while a sack of meat and a gallon of water weighed heavily in my hands.

As I walked, I toyed with the idea of poisoning Tiera. “Would poison even affect someone like her?” I wondered, but quickly shook my head. “I’d be done for if she survived and found out I tried.” The thought vanished as quickly as it came. No matter how desperately I wanted to escape, I knew I was no match for her.

My musings were interrupted by the distant clamor of combat—the shouts of adventurers and the roars of monsters. “Even here?” I grumbled, annoyed. I pressed on, determined to deliver my haul for lunch. I knew Tiera would throw a fit if her meal wasn’t ready on time.

But I hadn’t anticipated what came next. The ground trembled, a sign of approaching danger. From behind, I heard the thunderous footsteps of a massive creature. I dropped the sack and water jug, grabbed my crossbow, and spun toward the sound. “Seriously, can you not add to my workload?” I shouted, knowing no one would hear.

A towering orc burst into view, charging wildly and smashing everything in its path. Its eyes burned with fear and fury, and it was clear I was its next target. Without hesitation, I aimed my crossbow and fired at its head. “Bull’s eye,” I whispered as the arrow struck true. The orc collapsed, sliding a few meters before dissolving into a small, gleaming crystal in the mud.

The nearby adventurers gaped, stunned. The orc was level 15, supposedly stronger than a dark dwarf like me, but my speed and precision gave me the edge. “Shouldn’t have aimed for the head,” I muttered, slightly regretful. “I could’ve cooked its arm meat.”

The adventurers were noisy, seemingly shouting at me, but since I couldn’t understand their language, I ignored them. I kicked the crystal toward them, signaling for them to take it and leave. “I don’t have time for you,” I said, though I knew they wouldn’t understand. “Grab that and get lost.”

I didn’t bother attacking the adventurers. They seemed too shocked and scared to fight, likely because of my takedown of the orc. I hoisted my sack and water jug and continued toward my territory. But before I got far, a strange sound caught my ear—a soft scraping, like earth being dug.

Curious, I crept toward the source. Between the trees, I spotted a young female adventurer digging a pit. I recognized her instantly—the same adventurer who repeatedly invaded my territory to capture me. “Her again,” I whispered, sighing. “When will she give up?”

In our past encounters, I’d always bested her, and each time she died, her guild revived her at their chapel. But today, she was acting differently. Instead of ambushing me, she was crafting a trap. “What’s her deal now?” I wondered, setting my load behind a large rock to observe.

I waited until she finished and hid behind a tree. Then, I emerged to inspect her trap. “A pit covered with long branches and fresh leaves in the middle of the forest,” I said, nearly laughing. “This is so obvious. Even a child wouldn’t fall for it.”

I wasn’t sure whether to feel insulted or amused by her plan. But as I drew closer, I noticed something in the pit’s center. “What’s that?” I muttered. Upon closer inspection, I saw a stack of dirty magazines, carefully placed as bait. “Seriously?” I said, incredulous. “She thinks she can catch me with human p**n?”

I chuckled at her strategy. “Dwarves despise humans, so why would we care about their naked bodies?” I asked the air. But inwardly, I admitted, “Though I’m a dwarf, I still have a human mind. Might as well take it.” I carefully stepped over the trap, snatched the magazine without falling, and tucked it into my sack. As a dwarf, my light frame and special ability let me cross the trap effortlessly, even with 20 kilos of meat and water.

Startled, the girl leapt from her hiding spot and yelled, “Waahhh! Why didn’t you fall?!” Her face was a portrait of disappointment, and she stomped like a child throwing a tantrum. But before I could respond, she charged, sword in hand, determined to capture me.

I didn’t bother dropping my load. As she attacked, she stumbled into her own trap. The branches snapped under her weight, and she fell into the pit. “Huh?” I muttered, surprised by the speed of it all. The pit wasn’t deep, so she climbed out quickly, but her body was covered in explosive talismans that triggered five seconds after sticking to their target.

Unable to remove them, she became a human firework, sprinting as the talismans detonated across her body. She rolled on the ground, trying to douse the flames, each explosion sending her tumbling. “She’s so weird,” I said, nearly laughing. “She doesn’t need an enemy to lose. The saying’s true—your real opponent is yourself.”

But despite the humor, her tactics unnerved me. Using talismans was unusual for a swordswoman, and her odd behavior set her apart from other adventurers I’d faced. For some reason, I felt a pang of pity for her repeated failures. I decided to help her. If I didn’t, she’d likely die again, and despite our history, a part of me didn’t want that.

Using my special ability, “Karma,” which lets me bestow luck or misfortune on a being for a short time, I waited for the right moment. This ability had saved me countless times against powerful adventurers and monsters, but it had limits—I couldn’t overuse it, and it required specific conditions to work. This time, I used it to grant her a sliver of luck, just enough to stop the explosions.

She rolled to a stop at my feet, covered in wounds and burns. I aimed my crossbow at her. “Ouch… huh?” she gasped, startled by the weapon pointed at her face. Despite her injuries, she knelt and pleaded, “Wahhh! Please, don’t kill me! I owe so much to the guild. If I die again, they might not revive me at the chapel!” Her voice was raw with desperation.

I froze, not because of her plea, but because of the language she used—a tongue from Earth. For five seconds, I stood dumbfounded. “Wait, you can speak an Earth language too?” I asked, my voice thick with disbelief.

She was equally shocked, scrambling to her feet despite her wounds. “Wahh! You can speak a language from Earth too?!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with astonishment.

For the first time, our gazes locked, and the forest fell into an eerie silence. We’d clashed so many times, yet I’d never noticed she spoke a language from my former world. In hindsight, I always attacked her on sight, and since I couldn’t understand adventurers’ languages, I never thought to converse with her.

This shared connection sent my mind reeling. Who was this woman? How did she know an Earth language? Her reaction showed she was just as surprised to hear me speak it. Was our meeting a coincidence, or had the goddess orchestrated our paths? In the heart of the forest, with my crossbow still trained on her, I felt the weight of the destiny I’d been grappling with since meeting Tiera. This woman, like me, was tied to Earth—but what did it mean for the choice I had to make?