At the center of the stage, the magic circle flared with bright beams. The blinding light made the crowd instinctively shut their eyes—but Sky Qi barely blinked.

A teleportation circle? Such a grand entrance. Sky Qi frowned. What kind of Empire Idol needed this much fanfare?

Showing up with a flashy aura like this was pure showboating. Sky Qi sneered disdainfully.

He tapped a middle-aged man nearby. The uncle, lost in endless daydreams, whirled around with wide, furious eyes. "What?!"

Sky Qi asked calmly, "Sir, who exactly is this Molin?"

"Are you an idiot? Don’t you know anything?" The man’s face twisted in contempt, like he was staring at a fool. "She’s the most popular idol in the Empire’s Alliance. Just seeing her is bragging rights for life."

Sky Qi froze. That impressive? From the magic circle, a graceful figure slowly rose.

Her elegant twin tails danced in the air. Delicate eyebrows stood out under the stage lights. Long pink hair flowed over a princess gown, making her utterly enchanting.

Sky Qi’s eyes sharpened. Wasn’t this the girl he’d bumped into hours ago? Could she really be the Empire Idol Molin? What an annoying coincidence.

Her appearance ignited the crowd.

"Welcome, Goddess Molin!"

"Don’t push me for Molin—I’ll worship her!"

"Disgusting! Can you stop being so silly?"

Sky Qi’s mouth twitched. Her presence had thrown the venue into chaos. People clapped like possessed puppets, palms reddened and raw, oblivious. Thunderous applause shook the night sky.

A crushing pressure slammed into him. Sky Qi staggered slightly.

What was this? He closed his eyes to sense the magic around him.

Powerful magic spread through the crowd like a virus, infecting everyone it touched. Infected people couldn’t help but scream and clap wildly.

The source? Molin herself, standing on stage.

This magic dragged people under its spell effortlessly. Every princess-like gesture radiated bewitching power.

The tremor he’d felt? Likely this magic hitting him—but his restored strength let him resist subconsciously. The clash in the Sea of Magic had shaken him.

The defenseless crowd was fully infected. Their eyes held nothing but Molin. Sky Qi sensed they’d obey even a suicide command from her.

No wonder she was an Empire Idol. This bewitching magic was dangerously useful—a gray-area trick. Few could detect it, so discovery was unlikely.

Besides, it caused no physical harm. It just turned people into awestruck puppets. Even the Magic Investigation Department would turn a blind eye.

Harmless? Yes. But it reeked of selfishness. With this magic, she could rule as an Empire Idol—or even a king.

Sky Qi smiled faintly. He saw through all magic and combat skills instantly.

Should he wake them up? Nah. He didn’t meddle. As long as it didn’t affect him, he didn’t care.

"Next," Molin announced, "I’ll sing a song for you all."

"It’s called ‘Path of the Brave.’ Inspired by Sky Qi—the strongest human alive."

Sky Qi froze. What’s it got to do with me? Had he gotten so famous an Empire Idol wrote songs about him?

Cheers still roared below. Nearby houses opened curtains; faces crowded the windows to watch.

"Today’s battle, tomorrow’s hope."

"Chanting for you, an immortal legend."

"A thousand miles to claim the enemy’s head—one against ten thousand."

"I am the nightmare of the Dark Races, the ender of evil."

"One sword severs souls, shatters armies."

"With my strength, I am Sky Qi."

"The brave never fall, conquering all!"

...

What the hell? Am I really that awesome? Sky Qi’s expression turned odd. This felt like free advertising. And that last line—was it mocking his name? Damn, it even made his blood boil.

Her ethereal voice and angelic face could win over thousands. Why use bewitching magic at all?

The song ended. The crowd erupted again. Men, women, young, old—all wept. An immortal figure matched an immortal song.

Sky Qi’s gaze dimmed. But this glory was fading. His power was sealed now. The world-famous Soulsever Sacred Sword had been stolen.

He might not even defeat the culprit anymore. Revenge? A joke.

He sighed inwardly, watching Molin’s glittering form on stage. A self-mocking chuckle escaped him. People should have passion. The world should have heroes. But it didn’t have to be him.

He didn’t deserve "hero." Everything he did was for money. For money, he’d assassinated kings. For profit, he’d abandoned honor—all to live freer.

He was just a hired blade. If the Bloodline paid him, he’d work for the Dark Races too.

A killing machine. Killing machines don’t get called heroes. Everywhere he went was hell. His "righteousness" was weaker than knights dreaming of princesses.

With a thought, he compressed the Purification Spell to its limit. An aura spread from him like heaven-sent rain, cleansing hearts. The frenzied crowd suddenly stilled.

Why was I so crazy? People stared at their swollen, red palms, confused. Was I really that excited? ...Though that song was good.

The low-level group Purification Spell softened the applause. The chaos faded to normal. Many puzzled over their possessed-like frenzy moments ago.

Molin sensed her broken magic. She frowned deeply, scanning the crowd below—her gaze locking with Sky Qi’s.