Rebirth of the Exiled Gods' Pawn: An MMORPG Saga

The contract had been signed. The deal was set.

Veyron sat back, feeling a rare sense of relief. After everything—being thrown out, humiliated, left with nothing—he had landed on his feet.

10,000 credits upfront.

15% of all alchemy sales.

For the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe.

Kaelith, meanwhile, stretched lazily, a smug look on his face.

"Oh! Before we get started, can I tell you a little secret~?" he asked, leaning forward with an impish grin.

Veyron barely looked up. "What?"

Kaelith cupped his hands around his mouth like he was about to reveal forbidden knowledge.

"I don't have a single credit in my account~!"

Silence.

Veyron's pen slipped from his fingers.

The words hung in the air, growing heavier by the second.

Slowly, very slowly, he looked up from the contract. His expression was carefully blank. "...What?"

Kaelith giggled. "Mhm~! Not a single credit! Zilch! Nada~!"

A dangerous pause followed.

Veyron's eye twitched. His fingers tightened into a fist.

"...Then where is my 10,000 credits?" he asked, his voice eerily calm.

Kaelith tilted his head cutely. "Oh, about that~!"

He paused for dramatic effect.

"You'll have to work hard and earn it yourself~!"

Veyron blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then he slowly set the contract down, his movements painfully controlled.

"...Let me get this straight," he said, his tone neutral in a way that definitely wasn't neutral at all.

"You made me sign a contract that promised 10,000 credits upfront—"

"Mhm~!" Kaelith nodded enthusiastically.

"—but you actually have no money to pay me?"

Kaelith beamed. "Exactly~!"

Veyron's eye twitched again.

He looked at the contract, then at Kaelith.

Back at the contract.

Back at Kaelith.

His jaw clenched.

"...So I basically just agreed to work for free?"

Kaelith wagged a finger. "No, no~! You agreed to work hard and earn your own salary!"

Veyron stared at him.

Kaelith blinked innocently.

Veyron stared harder.

A vein bulged on Veyron's forehead. He inhaled deeply through his nose, then let out a long, slow exhale.

There were two choices here:

1. Smash his own head into the table.

2. Smash Kaelith's head into the table.

The second option was extremely tempting.

"...I hate you," he finally muttered, his voice flat.

Kaelith pouted. "Aww, don't be like that~! Think of it as motivation!"

Veyron's hand twitched toward his belt. "I'm thinking of strangling you."

Kaelith giggled. "Hehe~! But you won't~! Because we're business partners now~!"

Veyron closed his eyes and counted to ten.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four—nope, not working.

He took another deep breath, trying to suppress the overwhelming urge to commit a crime.

"...So let me guess," he said through clenched teeth. "I have to brew potions and sell them just to pay myself?"

Kaelith nodded cheerfully.

Veyron's head slammed into the table.

"Kill me now," he groaned.

Kaelith hummed. "Nope~! Too soon! I still need you to make potions~!"

Veyron banged his head again.

This was hell.

He had signed a deal with the devil.

Veyron didn't move. His forehead remained pressed against the table, his arms limp at his sides. If he stayed still enough, maybe—just maybe—the universe would take pity on him and strike Kaelith down where he stood.

No lightning came.

Only the sound of Kaelith humming in delight.

> "So~! Since we're officially partners, let's get started right away!"

Veyron inhaled. Slowly. Deeply. The kind of breath one takes before committing a very serious crime.

> "...Started?"

His voice was hoarse. Dead inside.

Kaelith clapped his hands together. Excitedly.

> "Mhm~! You have soooo much work to do! We need ingredients, a proper brewing station, and of course—clients!"

Veyron's fingers twitched.

> "You—" He exhaled sharply through his nose. "You don't even have ingredients?"

Kaelith giggled.

> "Nope~! But that's where you come in, partner~!"

Veyron slowly sat up. His bangs cast a shadow over his face.

> "Let me get this straight," he said, voice eerily calm.

> "I just signed a contract for 10,000 credits upfront."

> Kaelith nodded enthusiastically.

> "But you have no money."

> "Mhm~!"

> "And now, you're telling me I also have to go out and collect ingredients?"

Kaelith tilted his head playfully.

> "Well, of course! You can't make potions without ingredients, silly~!"

A vein pulsed on Veyron's forehead. He exhaled—again—in a desperate attempt to not flip the table and strangle this infuriating creature in front of him.

> "And where, exactly," he asked through gritted teeth, "am I supposed to find ingredients?"

Kaelith's eyes sparkled.

> "Ohhh, I'm so glad you asked~!"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tattered, dog-eared map. He slapped it onto the table, grinning.

Veyron stared at it. Then at Kaelith.

> "...What am I looking at."

Kaelith leaned in, voice hushed like he was revealing ancient wisdom.

> "A secret ingredient stash, hidden deep in the Poisonwood Marsh~!"

Silence.

Veyron's eye twitched.

> "Poisonwood Marsh."

> "Yup~!"

> "The place full of deadly creatures, lethal spores, and flesh-eating plants."

> "Yup~!"

> "And you want me to go in there. Alone."

> "Mhm~!"

Veyron stared at him, completely expressionless.

Kaelith beamed.

> "Aren't you excited~?"

Veyron slowly dragged a hand down his face.

> "No."

> "Awww, but it's a business opportunity~!"

> "It's a suicide mission."

Kaelith pouted.

> "Oh, come on! Think of the adventure!"

> "Think of the suffering."

Kaelith gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest.

> "You wound me, partner~! I'd never send you in unprepared!"

Veyron narrowed his eyes.

> "Oh? Do you actually have something useful to give me?"

Kaelith smiled brightly.

> "Of course!"

He reached into his bag… and pulled out a small, rusty dagger.

He plopped it onto the table.

Veyron stared at it.

Kaelith grinned.

> "Ta-da~!"

Veyron didn't move.

Kaelith wiggled his fingers at the dagger, as if presenting a priceless artifact.

> "What. Is. That."

> "Your survival tool~!"

Veyron picked up the dagger. It felt flimsy. The blade was chipped. The hilt was wrapped in old, tattered cloth.

This wasn't a weapon. It was an insult.

He looked at Kaelith.

Kaelith blinked innocently.

Veyron flipped the dagger in his hand.

Kaelith tilted his head.

Veyron adjusted his grip.

Kaelith smiled.

Then—

Veyron THREW it directly at Kaelith's head.

Kaelith barely dodged, giggling as the dagger clattered uselessly against the wall.

> "Ooooh~! Feisty~!"

Veyron slammed his hands onto the table and stood up.

> "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU."

Kaelith howled with laughter.

> "Hehehe~! But you won't~! Because you need me~!"

> "LIKE HELL I DO!"

> "Ohhh? But if you kill me, who's going to handle all the business negotiations~?"

Veyron froze.

Kaelith smiled smugly.

> "Mhm~! That's right! I'M the one handling sales, partnerships, and distribution~!"

> "You… scheming little—"

> "Aww, don't be mad~! We make such a great team!"

> "I WANT TO BREAK YOUR TEETH."

> "Ehehe~! But you won't~!"

Veyron dragged his hands through his hair, staring at the ceiling like a man questioning every life choice that led him here.

Kaelith giggled, hopping up from his seat.

> "Welp! I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to go secure our first customers~! Meanwhile, you should start gathering ingredients!"

Veyron's head snapped toward him.

> "I never agreed to this."

Kaelith skipped toward the door.

> "You signed a contract~!"

> "UNDER FALSE PRETENSES."

> "A contract is a contract~!"

Kaelith blew him a playful kiss before slipping out the door.

Veyron stood there, motionless, fists clenched.

Silence filled the room.

Then—

His head slammed into the table.

Again.

And again.

He groaned into the wood.

> "This is my life now."

He had signed a deal with the devil.

And worse?

The devil was enjoying every second of it.