Double Dagger Delinquent

Chapter 151 The Goddess of Destruction

Moments earlier—

Far away, near the river where Joka’latrex had chosen the battlefield, his carriage rolled in, surrounded by a massive army of demons.

His generals marched ahead as the carriage doors opened. Joka’latrex stepped out with his attendants, a wide grin stretching across his face.

Before him spread an enormous army of human warriors—mages, mounted beasts, armored carriages.

At the front stood a tall, grey-bearded man wearing a crown, a heavy bear-fur mantle draped over one shoulder.

Alden Mor, King of Uruk.

Father of Agnes.

Behind him, his sons, Garron and Darragh, weapons raised. The three radiated unshakable authority.

Joka’latrex walked forward, openly admiring the sight.

“Yes…” he murmured, pleased.

“A whole army. Hahaha.”

With a lazy flick of his claw, he commanded,

“First group. Attack.”

A wave of goblins, imps, and a handful of orcs surged forward—the weakest of his forces. Disposable pieces on a game board.

The human army responded by retreating slowly, as a single unit. Water magic flew from their ranks, crashing into the demon forces and killing several as the creatures advanced.

Joka’latrex smiled.

“You—there. You, and you—move left. Send more casters to attack that flank. Minotaurs there.”

He delegated orders lazily, almost playfully.

Yet something felt wrong.

Each time the human army moved, it was perfect—measured, calm, retreating just enough to kite his forces. No panic. No mistakes.

Too clean.

Too controlled.

Joka’latrex narrowed his eyes.

He realized something was amiss.

A subtle ripple passed through the air—sharp, unnatural. His gut tightened.

He turned to one of his generals, his expression darkening.

“You. Go kill one of the men beside their king.”

The massive minotaur general bowed.

“As my lord commands.”

The creature launched forward, its body wrapped in dense demonic energy. It vanished—

—and reappeared before the king and his sons.

He struck one of the princes.

SPLASH.

Water exploded where the body should have been, glowing briefly before dissipating.

The minotaur froze.

Stunned.

Joka’latrex’s grin twisted into a furious snarl.

He vanished—

—and reappeared before them in a single, fluid motion. His noble clothes burned away, disintegrating to reveal raw obsidian scales beneath—his true, armored form.

King Alden held his ground, staring up at the towering demon, spear clenched tight. He stepped back slowly with his remaining son, his posture rigid.

He spoke calmly.

“You will die here, demon… stay back. You dare challenge—

I—Alden—will conquer you… everyone move back…”

His voice was wrong.

Stiff.

Hollow.

Like a recording.

Joka’latrex slashed with his claw.

The king’s entire upper body burst into glowing water, splashing across the ground.

The Demon King’s eyes flew open.

He turned slowly, glowering at the entire human army.

A low growl tore from his throat.

Raw, violent energy erupted from him. The shockwave was so overwhelming that the minotaur general collapsed—dead—where he stood.

The entire Uruk army dissolved into glowing water.

Aqua clones.

Drawn from the river itself. Empowered by Agnes’s green stone.

They flowed back toward the riverbank, vanishing into the current.

“You lowly mortals…” Joka’latrex roared.

“How DARE you make a fool of me?!”

His voice thundered across the land, shaking earth and sky. Even his monstrous army and elite demon officers trembled in terror.

His wings spread at last—massive, dark, armored.

Then his form blurred.

He leapt into the sky, vanishing into the distance—

his face twisted with pure, murderous rage.

“You lowly creatures—” the Demon King barked, standing before the girls and the unconscious Iryoku.

Black energy swelled from him, flooding the ground in every direction.

Power—immense, crushing, lethal—surged outward, danger pressing in from all sides.

The explosion came too fast.

One moment the demon stood before them—

the next, an icy chill tore through their bodies.

Everything went black.

Yet they held.

They huddled together around Iryoku, clinging to one another, forcing their Leben and magic to their absolute limits.

Alessandra raised her shield.

Katherine lifted her sword. She had barely any power left.

“Riposte.”

The carriage—

the ground beneath them—

the earth itself—

—all vanished into dust, erased by sheer force.

Aqua’s body expanded, surging outward to form a vast barrier of water around them. The outer layer froze solid, locking into ice.

Rhogan’s body swelled and glowed as stone shifted and rose, shaping itself into another wall of defense.

Orn landed, his long wings and body of wind folding around them, compressing—

hardening into a barrier of solidified wind magic.

A triple-layered shield—rock, wind, and water sealed in ice—enclosed them all: small, dense, and faintly glowing, with one of the spirits’ heads embedded in each barrier.

At the center stood Agnes, forcing every ounce of her green stone’s power outward.

Blood streamed from her nose.

Her veins bulged grotesquely, swollen as if they might burst.

Reika activated her stone as well, pouring the last of her magic into the defense.

Another barrier rose—formed of crackling lightning.

Yumi and Christina followed, giving everything they had left.

A barrier of raw magic spiraled around them, unstable and burning.

Barrier after barrier formed.

The group clutched together as the space around them shrank—

—as the barriers shattered, burned, and eroded under the assault.

When the attack finally ended…

They were still standing.

Alive.

As the remaining barriers cracked and collapsed into dust and mist, the three summoned spirits fell apart, dying once more.

Before them, Joka’latrex glared.

His presence was suffocating.

He raised his claw again, dark magic spilling outward, spreading across the land and closing in around them.

“You lowly creatures,” he snarled.

“Dare to make a play in my game? Dare to make me look like a fool?!”

The girls were spent.

Agnes collapsed, blood seeping from her skin.

“Agnes!” Alessandra screamed.

Katherine dropped to her knees as well, her sword slipping from her grasp.

They looked at one another—exhausted, shaking.

No power left.

No ideas left.

Yumi’s eyes moved over everyone, one by one—

then returned to Iryoku.

Her small hands trembled as she looked at him. For a second, she smiled, tears falling freely.

“At least…” Her voice shook, weak and breaking.

“…we’re all together… nobody got left behind… hehehe.”

She sniffed softly.

Reika nodded, one hand holding Yumi’s back, the other gripping Agnes’s hand tightly.

Alessandra looked at all of them—Christina trembling, completely spent. Christina reached out and gently touched Iryoku’s head.

“My God… we’re all here together,” she whispered.

“This time… we will cross into the afterlife together…”

Her other hand clasped Katherine’s.

Katherine smiled weakly, meeting their eyes. She moved closer as the entire group huddled together, arms linked, waiting for the inevitable.

The dark energy never touched them.

Instead, it encircled them.

From the roiling black mass, demons began to emerge—Joka’latrex summoning his army from the river where he had left them. The familiar pair of demonesses appeared first, followed by powerful generals.

One by one, they manifested, completely surrounding the group.

There was nowhere left to run.

“Make them suffer,” Joka’latrex commanded, his voice deep and merciless.

The demons closed in.

One of the generals stepped forward—a massive troll, its body coated in dense, dark demonic power. Towering over them at more than ten meters tall, it raised a colossal fist. The ground groaned beneath its weight.

Its arm swelled with power as it drew back slowly, deliberately telegraphing the blow. A wide, cruel smirk spread across its face.

The monster’s shadow swallowed Iryoku and the girls.

Alessandra looked at Iryoku one last time, her voice barely a whisper.

“…I just wish I could have said I’m sorry.

I wish I could have made peace with you…”

Then—something felt wrong.

Alessandra and the others looked up.

Someone had landed in front of them.

She had appeared out of nowhere—bare feet touching the snow without a sound.

A human woman.

Tall—well over two meters—with long black hair flowing freely down her back. A black cloak snapped in the freezing wind as she stood between the demons and certain death.

She turned her head slightly, glancing back at the group.

Her face was stunning, almost divine in its beauty, yet touched by sorrow. Her eyes—reptilian, silver—rested on them.

They lingered on the unconscious Iryoku.

For a single heartbeat.

Then her gaze hardened.

Her eyes ignited, turning black and red.

Rage twisted her expression.

As the troll’s massive fist came crashing down, drenched in dark energy—

She raised her hand.

Her fingers curled into a fist.

Her jaw clenched, small fangs flashing between her lips.

She punched forward.

Her strike met the giant’s blow.

CRASH.

A titanic shockwave erupted, shaking the entire battlefield.

Yet not a single thread of energy passed her.

Nothing reached Iryoku or the girls.

Dust and fractured magic exploded outward, splitting the ground. When the haze finally settled—

The girls were still standing.

Untouched.

They gasped.

The troll was gone.

Half its body had been obliterated—erased by the impact. What remained crashed into the ground with a thunderous boom.

Silence followed.

Across the battlefield, the demon army stunned.

The generals froze—the troll had been the strongest among them in raw physical might.

Even the two beautiful demoness attendants of Joka’latrex stared in disbelief.

Even the Demon King himself wore a look of shock.

“Who is she…?” Yumi’s weak voice broke the silence, her hands clutching Iryoku.

Marlivienne and Evelaine stepped forward, their expressions twisting with fury.

“Who are you?” Marlivienne demanded.

“How dare you meddle in the affairs of our king, Joka’latrex?” Evelaine snarled.

“Are you a demon? Whom do you serve?!”

Both demonesses raised their hands, magic surging as they hurled forward cancellation spells woven with lethal intent. At the same time, the remaining generals rushed the tall, black-haired woman from all sides, claws lifted, demonic energy flaring as they struck.

The unknown woman opened her mouth—

—and growled.

“GWRRRRRLLLLLLLL—!”

Power detonated outward.

The entire battlefield shook.

Her cloak tore open from the front as her transformation completed mid-roar. Black obsidian scales surged across her flesh, hardening into dark, metallic armor that fused seamlessly with her body. It did not conceal her form—

—it exalted it.

Her physique was overwhelmingly feminine, goddess-like in its vast curves, yet terrifyingly powerful. Every line of her body spoke of dominance and destruction—an impossible balance of beauty and brutality, grace and annihilation. She stood like a living calamity, sculpted for war.

Her hands and feet twisted into armored claws, long and lethal, gleaming like forged darkness. From her head, massive black metallic horns erupted, curving upward like a crown—ancient, regal, unmistakably demonic.

Lightning fractured the sky behind her, framing her silhouette as embers drifted through the air.

She was not merely a monster.

She was an existence meant to be feared.

Infinite beauty.

Danger given form.

The shockwave erased everything before her.

Lower demons, generals—even the two demonesses—were hurled into the ground, crushed and shattered. Blood spilled as bodies broke beneath the force.

Silence followed.

“Another… Demon King…” one of the remaining vulture shamans whispered in terror. He stood among the last demons still lingering at the rear of Iryoku’s group.

The girls gasped, unable to comprehend what they were witnessing.

At last, the transformed woman spoke—her voice broken and uneven, feminine yet layered with a deep, bestial growl and overwhelming power.

“No… hurt Iryu.”

Her claws rose, wrapped in dense, writhing darkness.

“Deborah.

Kill you all.”

The words—

—and the name—

—hit the girls like a blow.

They stared, stunned.

Deborah’s demonic eyes finally locked onto Joka’latrex.

He glared back, the air between them warping as their killing intent collided. Cracking energy met in the space between them, the ground trembling violently beneath their feet.

Both creatures advanced slowly toward each other, leaving trails of fractured energy behind them—Deborah with her claw raised high.

When they were inches apart, Joka’latrex reacted instantly, striking back with his own claw, power surging into the blow.

The collision shook the world.

CRASH.

A massive tremor ripped through the valley as violent energy erupted outward. A colossal shockwave followed, splitting the ground open—enormous fissures tearing across the battlefield and racing all the way toward the surrounding mountains.

Joka’latrex narrowed his eyes.

Their attacks were similar in power.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“You are not one of the Twelve. How can an unknown Demon Queen exist?”

His red demonic gaze roamed over her—her body, her horns, her scales—before returning to her face.

She still retained much of her human form. Her body was only partially covered by demonic, scaled armor. Her eyes burned with a power unlike pure demonic energy—something fused, alien.

Then—

a face flashed through his mind.

Realization struck.

His expression shifted.

Fear crept in.

Worry twisted Joka’latrex’s features as he took an unsteady step back.

Deborah roared, raising both claws, preparing to strike again.

“No… this is sacrilege,” Joka’latrex muttered, his voice shaking.

“You will upset his wrath. You will bring him here. How can someone like you exist—

a hybrid?”

With a violent beat of his wings, he leapt backward and rose into the air.

“This place is done,” he barked.

Turning north, he fled at full speed.

“Damn it… I really thought this realm was safe,” he snarled as he flew.

“Ever since that stupid Sun Eater was its protector… but where is he? She will draw his attention as well. The Light will come... Even The Darkness will want answers…”

His voice dropped, grim.

“This place… will be erased.”

He sped past the crumbling holy mountain, clicking his tongue as he spared it a single glance.

“I need to get out of here…”

And then he was gone—vanishing into the distance, deep into the demon lands beyond the natural barrier of the holy mountain.

The group remained huddled together on the shattered ground.

Suddenly, Deborah appeared before them—towering over their fragile forms. She glared past them, her killing intent sweeping outward. At once, the remaining lower demons broke and fled in all directions, scattering like insects before a storm.

Fear and awe washed over the girls. Their strength finally gave out, and they let themselves fall onto their backs, bodies trembling, eyes fluttering open and shut as they hovered on the edge of consciousness.

Deborah bent down, crouching. As she did, the obsidian armor covering her body shifted and receded, the demonic scales dissolving as her form returned to human.

She was naked.

The girls noticed immediately.

Without hesitation or shame, Deborah reached behind her, pulled her cloak forward, and wrapped it around herself. She did it not with embarrassment—but with the calm, instinctive motion of duty fulfilled.

Christina’s eyes widened as realization struck her. She’s following the Lord’s commandments.

Deborah gently touched Iryoku’s head, rubbing it with the utmost care. Her eyes half-closed as tears shimmered, then fell freely.

“Iryu…” she whispered.

Her voice was no longer bestial.

It was soft. Feminine. Sad—and relieved.

Sobbing quietly, she lifted Iryoku into her arms and stood.

“You’re Deborah…” Yumi’s weak voice followed.

“You helped Iryoku before, at the holy mountain… didn’t you?”

Deborah looked at her, then slowly examined the others, her silver eyes studying each of them.

“Deborah,” she said simply.

“Iryu… mate.”

Suddenly, Agnes coughed violently—then went still, her eyes closing again.

Everyone turned in alarm.

“Agnes—what’s happening?!” Alessandra cried.

Reika tried to move toward her, but her body refused to respond. Agnes was bleeding badly now—blood seeping from multiple wounds across her body, soaking into the ruined ground.

Before panic could fully take hold—

A powerful gust of wind slammed down beside them.

A massive creature landed with a thunderous impact.

A griffin-like beast—its body that of a metallic, armored lion; its wings formed of living air; its eagle head blazing with pure fire. A long tail writhed behind it, shaped like a serpent, crackling with lightning.

Two figures dismounted.

Alessandra, Yumi, and Reika immediately recognized one of them—a tall, middle-aged knight clad in full armor.

“It’s good to see you alive, lasses… and lad,” he said warmly.

“Sir Joseph,” Alessandra breathed.

Agnes’s personal guard knight.

Second-in-command.

The second figure stepped forward: an elderly woman, her back hunched by age, face deeply wrinkled, leaning on an ornate, ancient staff. She knelt beside Agnes, studying her carefully before taking her hand.

“Child,” Vitka said softly.

“You have endured enough.”

Agnes weakly opened her eyes when she sensed them—two people dear to her standing close.

“Sir joseph... Master Vitka… is that you…?” She murmured.

Reassured, she finally let herself drift into sleep as warm magic enveloped her body—and spread to the others as well.

The old woman stood.

“Let us take them back,” Vitka said quietly, meeting Joseph’s eyes—then Deborah’s.

“…Let us return to the Makikoku...”