Brothel Manager : Unexpected Encounter with A Hidden Family Heirloom-Chapter 523: A Purpose to Live

"But I need to ask one thing!" Reynold paused while staring at Das.

Das raised his head and looked into the eyes of Leo Reynold.

Reynold sipped his honey tea, his sharp eyes fixed on Das. After a long pause, he finally asked, "You’ve done all this—taken down hidden families, collected weapon spirits, become the strongest warrior in this world. And yet, you sit here, detached. Are you truly content, Das? Is this your penance?"

Das exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling as if lost in the vast emptiness of the sky beyond. "Penance? No. Boredom? Yes. When you have no equal, no rival, no challenge left, what is there to strive for?" His voice carried a weight of sorrow. "And with every battle, every victory, I lost more than I gained. The people closest to me—gone. The ones I fought for—dead. I had a purpose once, Reynold. Now, I only exist. Young and youthful…"

Reynold studied him for a moment before letting out a dry chuckle. "A warrior with no war to fight. How ironic."

Das smiled bitterly. "And what about you? How does it feel being a Supreme Wizard? Do you feel fulfilled?" His tone was laced with curiosity, but there was a hint of something else—a longing for a different answer, perhaps.

Reynold leaned back, crossing his arms. "Supreme Wizard? There is still a long way to go. I have fought many, lost many battles, and found my equals in places you cannot even imagine. My journey is far from over. Unlike you, I still have something to chase."

Das sighed. "Then you are fortunate."

Reynold smirked and then, as if remembering something crucial, his expression turned serious. "Das, do you truly not know why you have remained so... unchanged? Your body, your strength? You should’ve aged, weakened, at least something should have changed unlike me. Yet, here you are—looking as you did decades ago. Same as me, young and youthful."

Das raised an eyebrow. "I assumed it was the lingering effect of my connection to the weapon spirits."

"Not just lingering effects," Reynold corrected. "Those weapon spirits have made you something more than human. You are a Body Mage of Disciple Rank. Do you know what that means?"

Das frowned. "What ranks? I didn’t hear any ranks and classifications."

Reynold sighed in exasperation. "It means you’ve unknowingly stepped onto the path of the Spirit World. The Disciple Rank of a Body Mage grants a lifespan of ten thousand years. You are no different from those in the higher realms, Das. You have become something beyond this mortal world."

Das took a deep breath, processing this information. "And? What does that mean for me?"

Reynold leaned forward. "It means you are wasting your potential. You could enter the Spirit World, cultivate the art of the Body Mage, and explore realms that are far beyond anything this world has to offer. You would not be shackled by the limits of mortals anymore."

Reynold’s words stirred something in Das, but he quickly shook his head. "I’ve had enough, Reynold. I have lived enough. I have fought enough. I do not need another journey, another battlefield. I just want to rest."

Reynold’s gaze turned sharp. "At least not for yourself, then. What if I told you there is something you must do? Something you cannot ignore?"

Das sighed. "And what is that?"

Reynold’s eyes gleamed with intensity. "The Spirit World of the Dragon Realm. That is where the creator of the weapon spirits is imprisoned."

Das’s expression changed instantly. "What did you just say?"

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

"The creator of the weapon spirits," Reynold repeated. "The one who forged the very tools that shaped your fate. He has been locked away, bound by those who feared his power. And you, Das, are the one who has benefited the most from his creations. Do you not think you owe him something in return?"

Das’s fingers trembled slightly as memories surged through him. He recalled a dream like battle—one long ago, hazy yet unforgettable. He had seen it then, a lone warrior, fighting against a monstrous woman—a princess and her army, drenched in darkness, weaving chains of power. That warrior had struggled against impossible odds, his body resisting even as his spirit was crushed. And Das had done nothing but watch.

"I remember," Das whispered. "The man who fought against the dark princess... He was the creator of the weapon spirits?"

Reynold nodded. "Yes. And he still suffers. His creations shaped your destiny, Das. If anyone can repay the debt, it is you."

Das fell into silence. His entire life had been a storm, pushing him from battle to battle, but now, for the first time in a long while, he felt something stirring within him. A reason. A purpose.

Reynold leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "The Spirit World is nothing like this place. There, Body Mages rule entire kingdoms with fists that can shatter mountains. Charmers bend reality itself, turning emotions into tangible weapons. Wizards, like myself, wield elements far beyond the grasp of mortals. And the weapon spirits—Das, they dance on people’s fingers like living embers, obeying their master’s will as if they had souls of their own."

Das closed his eyes, trying to imagine such a place. A world beyond mortal limitations. A place where time stretched for thousands of years, where power was limitless, and where legends were not just born but forged in the heat of endless wars.

"There are cities made of floating islands, where airships soar through the skies like flocks of birds. There are deserts of burning gold, where the sun never sets, and rivers of liquid mana that feed entire civilizations. The Dragon Realm, the Spirit Realm, the Abyssal Sanctum—these are places where mortals dare not tread, but you, Das... You could walk among them as an equal."

Das opened his eyes. "And what would I find there, Reynold? More battles? More people to kill?"

Reynold shook his head. "Perhaps. But perhaps also a new reason to live. Perhaps, even… cherish more loved ones and live a complete life."

The word loved-ones struck Das like a thunderbolt. Thea surfaced in his mind. His fingers curled into fists. He had long buried that hope, had refused to let himself dream of such things. But now, Reynold had laid a path before him—a path that might just lead to something more than just survival.

Reynold saw the conflict in Das’s eyes and smiled knowingly. "You don’t have to answer now. But you already know what you must do."

Das let out a breath, long and slow. "Looks like I might not be done just yet."

Reynold grinned. "Good. Because the real journey is only beginning."

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