Diamond Axe Kid strolled right into the heart of the ancient city, where a bustling floating market should have been packed with merchant junks and paddleboats. Instead, the scene before him was as gloomy as a graveyard at high noon. The canal water that had once run clear as glass was now murky black and reeked of something deeply wrong. The market folk sat slumped in their stalls, hollow-cheeked and dark-eyed, looking like people who hadn't slept in weeks — or like people something had been feeding on. The only sounds were the clack of clappers, the ring of finger cymbals, and the droning mumble of prayers drifting out of a large wooden pavilion on the waterfront.
At the center of that pavilion stood the Black Shaman, draped in white robes with a black sash — an imposing figure at first glance, though his eyes darted and gleamed with the unmistakable shine of a con man. He was holding a skull-topped staff high in the air, working the crowd of desperate, kneeling villagers for everything they had.
"Step right up! Anyone who wants to escape disaster — the fouled canal, the drought, the failed harvest — bring your gold and silver and offer it to my sacred black coin!" the Black Shaman bellowed, hoisting a crude lump of baked clay like it was a priceless relic. "I am the Black Shaman, master of mighty powers! And if you don't pay up — when you die, your soul will wander as a starving ghost, tormented forever in the darkest pit of the spirit realm!"
The frightened, credulous villagers crawled forward on their knees. They pressed their last silver coins into his hands — some even surrendering their mothers' gold hairpins — trading everything they had left for worthless scraps of fired clay.
"Please…" A young woman sobbed, tears streaming down her face, as she held out a small coin purse to one of the Black Shaman's lackeys. "I was saving this to buy medicine for my mother — she's burning up with fever. But the Shaman said if I don't make an offering, she'll suffer in the underworld forever. I don't have a choice…"
"Excellent! Strike while the iron's hot — virtue demands gold!" The Black Shaman laughed and snatched the purse with gleeful greed.
Then a clear, bright voice cut right through the middle of the pavilion.
"Hey there, Mister Shaman! That's a whole lot of nonsense you're selling. Since when does money put out the fires of the underworld?"
Every villager in the courtyard flinched and spun around. There stood Diamond Axe Kid at the foot of the pavilion steps, arms crossed, head tilted, blinking up at the Shaman with wide, innocent eyes. The Black Shaman's eyebrow twitched. He glared at the boy with his topknot, face flushing red with fury. "You little brat! Who do you think you are, mocking my sacred arts?! How did the gate guards let a kid who still smells like milk wander in here?!"
"Oh, those two gate guards?" The Kid grinned. "Right about now they're having a great time being stone statues at the city gate — and sweeping the courtyard with their faces pointed at the ground. I don't think they're coming to drag me anywhere anytime soon." Diamond Axe Kid laughed and clapped his hands, then darted up the pavilion steps quick as a sparrow and hopped onto the wooden platform in the middle.
"You little—! How dare you!" The Black Shaman's face went green with rage. He snapped his fingers at two hulking lackeys. "Grab that brat and throw him in the filthy canal — let the fish have him!"
The two giants lunged at the Kid immediately. But Diamond Axe Kid slipped aside with easy, fluid grace, and — almost as an afterthought — stuck one foot out just enough. Both lackeys tripped over each other and went headfirst off the platform.
SPLASH!
They plunged into the foul canal and came up gagging on the muck, groaning and half-unconscious.
"Oh my goodness!" The Kid put on his most wide-eyed, innocent face, though his eyes were dancing with mischief. "Why do grown-ups never watch where they're going? All that effort, and they still can't catch one little kid. Talk about using a sledgehammer to swat a fly."
The Black Shaman could see things were going sideways fast. He knew this was no ordinary child. Time to play his trump card. He thrust his skull-topped staff toward the sky and began chanting in a low, guttural drone. Black mist poured from the skull's eye sockets and coiled upward, taking the shape of hideous vengeful spirits that lunged straight for the Kid, jaws open to devour his soul.
"Die, you arrogant little pest! My dark arts will drain your spirit to nothing!" the Black Shaman shrieked.
"Oh, please." The Kid's eyes flashed. "You really think you can fight diamond light with darkness?"
Diamond Axe Kid didn't hesitate. He reached back, gripped the handle of his sacred weapon, and swept it forward in a blazing arc. The Diamond Axe's righteous radiance exploded outward — a burst of pure white brilliance like lightning splitting a noon sky — flooding every corner of the floating market with light. The beam of righteous power tore straight through the black mist and shattered the skull-topped staff into fine dust in the blink of an eye.
CRACK!
"AAAARGH!" The Black Shaman screamed and flew backward off the platform. The moment his dark magic broke, every coin and trinket he had stolen from the villagers transformed before their eyes — the gold and silver crumbling into dry leaves and worthless mud.
The villagers who had been under his spell blinked as if waking from a dream. Their eyes cleared. They stared at the debris in the Shaman's hands with a mix of grief and shame. "We were… mistaking a millstone for a lotus," the young woman murmured, clutching her coin purse — restored to her now — to her chest with trembling hands. "We almost let a fraud destroy our families."
Diamond Axe Kid slung the Diamond Axe across his back and walked over to where the Black Shaman lay crumpled and defeated. "Listen up, Mister Shaman," the Kid said, not unkindly. "Greed and deception always catch up with you — no exceptions. Wealth built on other people's suffering dissolves like dry leaves in the end. Every wrong you pile on just digs your own hole deeper."
The Black Shaman trembled from head to toe, the weight of karmic consequence crashing down on him. He scrambled to his knees and was about to press his forehead to the ground in desperate apology — when a churning gust of dark wind roared in from the deep forest behind the city. It coiled around the Black Shaman like a fist and yanked him into the air, swallowing him whole. A cold, echoing laugh trailed behind on the wind.
"Insolent child… you've destroyed my servant. But don't think for one second you can stop the great Lord Mara Kala Avicha from awakening the Demon King Pob!"
Diamond Axe Kid watched the dark wind until it vanished, his eyes bright but steady — curious and fearless all at once. Then he turned and flashed a smile at the villagers who were bowing and pressing their palms together in gratitude. "Nothing to be scared of anymore, everyone. Hold fast to what's right and good — virtue will protect you. As for me…" He rolled his shoulders and grinned. "Looks like I've got more work to do!"
— Lesson of the Chapter: Wealth stolen by exploiting the fears and ignorance of others is nothing but an illusion — it never lasts. When the light of wisdom and truth shines through, every lie crumbles to dust, and those who do evil must answer for every wrong they have done.