Chapter 172 : The War Begins (2)
Roxen’s sudden appearance made Pepia tilt his head, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.
“And what is this?”
A pathetically weak human. For a creature that was, at best, a fleeting amusement to display such raw hostility… Pepia found it utterly contemptible.
“I don’t believe I’ve done anything to you.”
“…Shut your mouth.”
CLANG!
Roxen’s sword came down, aimed for Pepia’s neck.
But a blade of solidified demonic energy materialized to block it, stopping the blow cold.
The grating screech of steel on magic filled the air.
“Hmm,” Pepia hummed, his gaze analytical as he studied Roxen.
He couldn’t understand it. Of course, he understood why a human might attack him, or show anger. It might be because he was a Demonkin, or perhaps he’d killed this one’s family in the past.
What he didn’t understand was the man who had sent this soldier to his death.
Louis, was it? That’s what I heard them call him.
At first, Louis had been merely an interesting specimen.
His talent was undeniable, and his ability to channel demonic energy through his Aura had thrilled Pepia.
He had personally infused the boy with his own power, hoping to cultivate a new Demonkin—or perhaps something even greater, something that would finally stave off his boredom.
I thought the Twelve Nobles might become thirteen.
But the little boy had surpassed all expectations. The demonic energy Pepia had so carefully implanted was gone, replaced by a repulsive divine power that now radiated from his chest.
That divine power is a problem, Pepia thought, but that mark on his forehead is the real insult.
The Stigmata. The cursed brand of the Goddess’s hounds.
It seemed that whore of a Goddess had already licked him, claiming him as her own.
How dare she covet what is mine.
Pepia scowled.
This was the human who had so thoroughly captured his interest, a man who, from their first meeting, had clearly cared for his comrades. He wouldn’t send a subordinate to a meaningless death.
So what is your game?
Pepia’s eyes shifted, tracking Louis’s approach from the corner of his vision.
Just then, Roxen swung again, this time aiming for Pepia’s eyes.
“Don’t you dare ignore me!”
Whoosh!
The strike fell short.
“GRAAAAAAAH!”
A raw cry tore from Roxen’s lips as he renewed his assault, a relentless flurry of steel. His Aura flared with each swing, the trajectory of his attacks growing wilder, more unpredictable.
It was as if his rage was a fuel, feeding the crimson flames that wreathed his blade, making them burn hotter and more fiercely.
Unable to dodge completely, a shallow cut opened on Pepia’s cheek.
Pepia kicked Roxen squarely in the stomach, sending him flying. He raised a hand, touching the wound. His fingers came away wet with his own blood.
Wounded. By a mere Aura Master.
The thought was…
“…delightful.”
A glint of madness ignited in Pepia’s eyes and his lips curled.
The man’s swordsmanship was crude, but his Aura… he had never seen an Aura with properties like this.
It was exhilarating.
Roxen spat a mouthful of blood and staggered to his feet, glaring at Pepia before charging once more.
“Heh… Excellent!” Pepia roared, throwing his head back.
He’d thought this one was just another worthless husk, but he’d been hiding such an amusing power.
The human world truly was a playground.
CRASH!
Pepia caught Roxen’s sword in his bare hand, a wide, manic grin spreading across his face.
Yes, this was the kind of fun he craved. What did their little plan matter in the face of such entertainment?
“Forget the mission,” he whispered to himself. “I think I’ll just enjoy myself…”
His eyes flashed as he licked his lips.
A colossal explosion of demonic energy erupted from him, blasting everything in the vicinity away.
From within that violent, overwhelming storm, Pepia began to walk forward, his form slowly changing.
“Entertain me more,” he hissed. “More!”
This was a new power, one gained through the Abyssal Bloom, a path that had opened up new possibilities for the Twelve Nobles.
The possibility of ascending to the level of a Demonic God—a transcendent being.
“Puhahahahahahahaha!”
Pepia burst into deranged laughter, observing his own transformed state. He was a creature of madness, and at last, he was living up to his name.
* * *
—How do you intend to handle this?
As Pepia advanced on Roxen, my master’s voice echoed in my mind.
Telepathy, a skill I’d gained upon reaching Grand Master, allowed for silent, long-distance communication. It was proving invaluable.
—His transformation was unexpected, but it’s still within our calculations. We proceed with the plan.
—You see that… and you still call it 'within calculations'? my master shot back, his tone sharp. Wouldn’t it be better for us to intervene now?
—No.
I shook my head, my resolve firm.
If we both stepped in, we would win this battle. No matter how powerful Pepia had become, his demonic energy was nothing before my Halo.
With two Grand Masters and hundreds of Templars wielding divine power, victory was certain, even if costly.
However.
—I made a promise to Roxen. I promised him his revenge.
Revenge. A fruit I had sworn he would taste.
My eyes found him across the battlefield.
I remembered the day we first met. He was the oldest member of the Special Taskforce, yet he trained harder than anyone, swinging his sword until his hands were raw and blistered.
A man with no talent, immolating himself on the altar of a single, all-consuming goal.
Just like me.
That was why I understood. I knew what he truly wanted, and I, of all people, had to honor it.
—You’re mad, my master sent, his voice incredulous. You would throw away a subordinate’s life for such a reason?
My response was quiet and measured.
—Roxen is a survivor of the Ayla Tragedy.
—…The Ayla Tragedy? You mean the massacre where only a single Watch Captain survived?
—Yes. Roxen is that captain.
A beat of silence.
—So that is the source of his vengeance. My master’s voice contained a newfound bitterness. And you would let such a precious life be thrown away…
—I haven’t thrown it away.
I watched Roxen, my expression impassive.
I never said I was abandoning him. I was giving him his chance for revenge, not sending him to his death.
—What do you mean? Do you believe that boy can defeat the Count of Madness?
—Impossible. However…
Even as my thought formed, the Dimensional Leaper’s head tumbled from its shoulders in a spray of black blood.
Drip, drip, drip.
Amidst the bloody rain, Kai stood with a broken dagger raised high. I watched him and allowed a corner of my mouth to lift.
—He can buy us time. Enough time to win the war.
CRACK!
The mirror that sustained the portal shattered. Kai’s lips moved, forming two silent words.
“Mission complete.”
Well done, I mouthed, and began to draw upon my own Aura.
With the endless tide of Demonkin cut off, the time for our counterattack had arrived.
* * *
Crack!
As the sound of shattering glass echoed across the square, Roxen twisted his lips into a smirk.
Kai had done his part. Now it was time for him to fulfill his own mission.
Revenge. That was the only mission he had been given.
“Was that all you were aiming for?” the Demonkin before him asked, his voice dripping with boredom.
“None of your concern.”
“Hah… I ask for entertainment, and you give me… this.”
Tap. Tap.
The Demonkin’s new tail—a whip of pure white that radiated an immense, cloying demonic energy—twitched impatiently against the stones.
Aim for the neck.
Roxen’s eyes gleamed as he charged, thrusting his sword at Pepia’s throat.
Fwoosh!
A perfect strike. The most flawless attack he had ever delivered.
Tap.
“Where are you looking?”
Pepia avoided the blade with a slight turn of his head and seized Roxen by the neck.
“Gagk…!”
“I’ll be disappointed if this is all you have,” Pepia murmured. He slammed Roxen to the ground and stomped on his chest with contemptuous force.
CRACK!
“Guuh…!”
Pain exploded through Roxen’s body, but he forced his Aura to ignite.
Fwoosh!
The flames of rage lashed out, seeking to burn Pepia’s foot.
They had no effect.
“I’ve seen this trick already. Is there nothing else? Hm?”
Thwack!
Another kick sent him flying.
Roxen spat up blood and struggled back to his feet.
Pepia clutched his own forehead. “Haaa… Please… just entertain me…”
Roxen was a wreck, but Pepia was completely unharmed. A barrier of demonic energy seemed to coat his skin like a second hide.
Roxen’s legs trembled. His hands shook. But he leveled his sword at his enemy.
“…Shut up.”
“I’m going to lose my mind,” Pepia sighed, running a hand through his now-white hair.
The mirror was destroyed. That human, Louis, was rallying his forces, fighting for a tactical victory.
It was all so… tedious. A battle utterly devoid of the pleasure and madness he craved.
…Should I just kill them all?
Just as the thought crossed his mind, another, more delicious idea struck him.
“Ah, wait.” A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “There is that, isn’t there?”
He shot forward, grabbing Roxen by the head and squeezing.
CRUNCH!
“Gaaaaaaghhh!”
Roxen screamed.
Pepia watched him, then flicked his gaze over to Louis.
“The Aura you humans use has different properties, doesn’t it?” His mouth stretched into a grotesque smile. “So, if I were to… amplify those properties, wouldn’t it become much more entertaining?”
He offered Louis a saccharine, mocking smile. “I’ll do you the special favor of strengthening your pet. You should be grateful.”
<Nightmare>
<Prison of Madness>
“AAAAAAAAGHHH!”
As Pepia’s power activated, Roxen’s screams became inhuman.
Pepia dropped him to the ground, a look of pure ecstasy on his face.
“Hah… how much more fun will this be? Both this one, and you. Let’s all play together.”
CRACKLE!
A massive vortex of demonic energy began to swirl around Pepia as the sky above bled from blue to an unnatural, swirling black.
“The show is starting, my friends,” Pepia announced, his suit having morphed into a far more ostentatious, theatrical costume.
He spread his arms wide.
“The ball begins now.”
The very power that had unleashed the Ayla Tragedy now bloomed anew in the heart of the Holy Kingdom.