Beyond Chaos - A DiceRPG - 31. Balrog the Bane I

Gu Xingshen! Your sister grabbed my man, you helped your sister grab my man! Your family is not anything good!

An F-Class Hunter.

Elias “Grim” Kingsley, a nine-year-old orphan with a hardened heart and sharp tongue, dies alone from pneumonia in an overcrowded orphanage. Known for his perpetual scowl and biting remarks, he's labeled a “problem child” by caretakers and “damaged goods” by potential adopters. Years of rejection have built thick armor around his young heart.In death, he encounters the God of Balance who offers him a second chance at life in a different world—this time as Grim Van Ambrose, son of a noble house. Balance explains that every soul deserves to know love and connection, something Elias was cruelly denied in his first life.Promised the family and belonging he never experienced, Grim begins his new life only to suffer an immediate tragedy: his mother dies moments after his birth. This cruel twist of fate reinforces his belief that loss is inevitable, leaving him with a distant father and the mysterious voice of a “Guidance Assistant” in his head.As Grim grows into his new identity, he struggles with his dual nature—the emotional scars of his past life bleeding into his present one. His difficult personality and sharp tongue remain, now paired with noble privilege and expectations. Despite his outward brashness, he carries the deep wounds of his first life and the fresh loss that welcomed him into his second.What begins as one orphan's second chance evolves into an epic journey through a world of ancient beasts, elemental magic, and deadly political intrigue. As Grim uncovers the truth about the Ambrose Clan's fall from grace and the conspiracy that framed them for treason, he faces increasingly dangerous adversaries—both human and monstrous. His quest for revenge against those who destroyed his family's legacy will challenge him to master forbidden techniques, forge unexpected alliances, and ultimately decide whether to rebuild the Ambrose Clan as it was, or transform it into something entirely new.In a realm where power determines survival and ancient secrets lurk beneath noble facades, Grim must learn that sometimes the greatest battles aren't fought with swords, but with the choices that define who we truly are.

“Y-young master, the Lord is requesting your presence.”

I looked at myself in the mirror as a maid's voice, laced with trepidation, reached my ears.

“Tell him I'll be there shortly.”

“I understand, y-young master.”

I paid no mind to her quivering presence, my gaze fixed on my reflection.

And this is exactly why I despise this character, Yes, He is a villain with my name but does it matter, no, the problem is this guy's weight he is so heavy that this tub of lard is weighing me down, literally.

For someone who prides themselves on muscle, nothing's worse than “fat,” and this guy before me? Well, he's a prime example of that.

“I suppose I need a workout.”

Reaching the door, exhaustion gripped me and I found myself gasping for breath. It was unbelievable – this body was so darn heavy.

After an arduous struggle, I finally made my way out of the room, causing servants carrying a litter¹ to scurry over. They lowered it, creating a path for me to step onto it.

I tried to ignore the spectacle – it was this pampering that turned this fatty into a giant tire. Pushing the annoyance aside, I began to move, managing only about 10 steps before my legs gave out.

Damn it. Seriously? I collapsed, leaving the twenty servants to hastily lift me and place me onto the litter. For me, it felt more like a stretcher. There I was, sprawled on it like some mountain, panting heavily.

“You damn god! I hope the protagonist of your favorite novel gets NTRed!”

“We're here, young master.”

Can you believe it? his father's office is just thirty steps away from this pumpkin room, yet he insists on using a litter.

“Give me a hand.”

I ordered while cursing this hefty body under my breath.

“Oh, come, come, my dear child. How was your day?”

I glanced at the middle-aged man, his face exuding warmth and care.

As for my feelings? This old man right here is the reason this chubby exists. Not that I give a darn about my indulgent father.

“I'm alright, Dad.”

Yes, imagine this: as a noble, this old man spoiled this pumpkin so much that he thinks he can go around scolding the mansion's maids and servants.

“Take a seat. Hey, fetch his chair!”

You might wonder why he doesn't sit on a regular chair. Well, that's because the chair is custom-made to accommodate this hippo-sized frame.

“What's going on, Dad?”

Seriously, why would he summon this big old hippo over to his quarters? There's gotta be a reason for it....

“Your fiancee is coming tomorrow”

……………………………………………………………

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