The young man had an ordinary appearance: large eyes, blond hair, pale skin, and an unremarkable gaze. His frame was slender, almost frail.

  “I never imagined I’d acquire such a weapon today,” muttered Kreo as he picked up William, the *Primitive Magic Sword*. “This blade can unleash energy… It must be a rare treasure.”

  Suddenly, he felt his strength **double**.

  “This… this power! Hahahaha! I’ll become a true knight!”

  In this world, the hierarchy of human combatants was structured as follows: **Warrior**, **Greater Warrior**, **Squire**, **Knight**, **White Knight**, **Green Knight**… Rumor had it there were even higher tiers beyond these, but such knowledge was beyond Kreo, who remained at the lowest rank: **Warrior**.

  Kreo returned home—a tiny, ramshackle hut with a weather-beaten fence. Yet despite its poverty, the space was immaculate. The yard had been meticulously swept, and the cramped interior was neatly organized.

  But he discovered that his sister was gone. All he found was a crude copper earring—hers.

  There was also a ransom note: *If the debt isn’t repaid, your sister will be sold to a tavern.*

  “Damn it, it must be my older brother’s fault. He gambled and lost again,” Kreo muttered bitterly, clenching his fists in anguish. Still, he kept the note.

  He ran his fingers along the blade of the sword, caressing it as if it were a beloved lover. This made William feel a bit uneasy: *What’s he doing? Is he about to get himself killed again?*

  Kreo murmured to himself, “On the very first day I’ve obtained this sword, I must use it to kill. Please, father, mother, forgive me. I can’t repay my brother’s gambling debts. The only way is to kill the creditor.”

  *Oh, so that’s what he meant,* William thought. *But he’s decisive, at least. Those ancient loan sharks are truly vile, kidnapping his sister like this.* William couldn’t help but nod inwardly in agreement.

  At 4 p.m., in the valley—the location specified in the ransom note—Kreo arrived alone, carrying the sword but no money.

  The scene was bleak: dry, yellow grass chewed by cows, the twisted branches of an ancient tree, and the dim glow of the setting sun casting long shadows. A woman hung from the tree, and a man with a blade on his back sat on a rock nearby.

  Kreo, with the sword at his waist, noticed several men with knives trailing him. He was surrounded.

  “Well? Did you bring what I wanted?” A voice, arrogant and mocking, broke the silence. It belonged to the son of a loan shark.

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  The man was handsome, with black, curly hair—a true aristocrat. His clothes were lavish, but the earring he wore gave him a frivolous air.

  The men behind him closed in, and Kreo instinctively tightened his grip on the *Primitive Magic Sword*.

  “I have no money,” Kreo said, his voice as cold as winter air laced with shards of ice.

  The servants behind him couldn’t hold back any longer and charged forward. Meanwhile, the loan shark’s son grabbed Kreo’s sister’s face, as if preparing to kiss her.

  “Kill!!!” Kreo roared in fury, drawing William and unleashing the **Energy Blade**. The eight-foot energy arc swept through the area, slicing one of the despicable servants in half.

  A surge of warmth flowed through the hilt of the sword and into Kreo’s body, filling him with power. “This strength… I’ve broken through!” He felt an immense force, like an icebreaker smashing through frozen seas, shattering his limits.

  In an instant, he advanced from **Warrior** to **Greater Warrior**. His natural talent was superior to the first wielder’s, so his progression was faster.

  Now a **Greater Warrior**, while the servants remained mere **Warriors**, Kreo chose to conserve his energy. Instead of relying on the **Energy Blade**, he engaged in close combat with the *Primitive Magic Sword*.

  A bald servant with one blind eye stabbed at Kreo with a knife. The sharpness of the cold blade sent a chill down one's spine.

  However, instead of dodging, he curled the corners of his mouth into a ferocious arc. Just as the tip of the knife was about to pierce his body, he suddenly and ferociously yet precisely grabbed the bald servant's wrist.

  "Crunch"

  The crisp sound made the bald servant suffer. Before he could let out a scream, a sword had already chopped off his head.

  The blood was absorbed by the sword. William felt as if he had drunk a bowl of warm soup. His body felt extremely comfortable, and he almost moaned with pleasure.

  But it was impossible for him to make a sound, because he was a sword.

  Several servant warriors held swords in their hands, but instead of charging forward, they stepped back, intimidated by his ferocity.

  Kreo sneered coldly, mocking their cowardice, and his hands didn't stop for a moment.

  "Whoosh" The sharp sword blade whipped up a gust of wind. Several evil servants took out their own weapons to defend themselves. But with a series of "dingdang" sounds, all their weapons were broken.

  Then, half of their bodies slowly fell, blood spurted out, and immediately the blood was absorbed by William.

  “What?” The carefree, arrogant young master’s smile vanished, replaced by a gradually hardening expression.

  His vile tongue hadn’t even touched the sister’s face before he realized his men had already been slaughtered.

  He himself was a powerful **Greater Warrior**, but he knew he couldn’t have killed those **Warriors** so effortlessly. To him, Kreo seemed like a ferocious lion preying on weak sheep.

  What he had thought would be a trivial, relaxing affair had now turned into a confrontation with a formidable enemy.

  “Now, it’s your turn,” Kreo’s voice was as cold and sharp as a blade scraping across ice, low and hoarse. He strode toward the young master, the *Primitive Magic Sword* dragging behind him, cutting through the soil like a plow through a field.

  Panicked, the young master drew a sword from his waist—a weapon of E** grade.

  In fact, their cultivation levels were very low. It was just that this was only a small town and village, and the energy floating in the space was very thin, so their cultivation progress was slow. A great warrior could even become the mayor of the town.

  So it was normal for the weapons here to be of low grade.

  The young master drew his sword very quickly, but Kreo drew his sword even faster. There were no special skills between the two of them; it was just a fierce collision of two swords, like two ferocious beasts fighting for territory.

  Both swords were E**-grade weapons, but there was a huge gap in their quality. William didn't feel anything special about his demonic sword body, but the blade in the opponent's hand had already been damaged, and there were even cracks on it.

  Finally, with a "ping" sound, the weapon in the hand of that arrogant young master, who looked down on slaves and the poor, shattered. Only a hilt was left in his hand.

  "What?" This was a graded weapon, but now it was broken. Before he could think, he saw Kreo slashing at him with a sword, so he smashed the hilt at Kreo's head.

  Taking advantage of the time when Kreo was parrying, the young master turned around and fled.

  Kreo didn't give him a chance to escape. His eyes flashed with a scarlet light, and the blade of the Primitive Magic Sword instantly shot out a light blade, which cut off the young master's hands and feet from a few feet away.

  He instinctively let out a scream from his throat, but Kreo didn't want to hear his cries. With his strong arms, he forcefully strangled the young master's throat, gradually increasing the strength. Then, with another slash of the sword, he cut off the young master's head and killed him.