Chapter 49 : It Was Incredible
Chapter 49: It Was Incredible
Arein was the worst dimension.
There were many heroes, and the humans were strong. And they had endured invasions for countless years.
Humans had adapted, and the Demon King was no longer absolute.
Those who wished to become Black Mages or Black Knights had disappeared, and the Demon King’s influence dwindled by the day.
But adaptation was not something limited only to humans.
Time was fair. Amid the unending deaths, the first to bring about change was Jason Kokemundo.
He had survived in Arein for over a hundred years and shared his wisdom. Thus, the survival rate of the other Demon Kings had risen as well.
But not all were like that.
If one obediently listened to others, then that one was no Demon King. Some repeated the same mistakes as before, and some adapted.
False, Frost, Gold-Steel, and Beast. The four seats had remained for decades, yet one other seat changed endlessly.
Thus, humans were deceived.
By the ever-changing seat of Lust, by those who died without adapting or gaining time to grow stronger, they were misled into thinking the Demon King was nothing special.
Into believing that heroes, that humans, were unconditionally stronger than the Demon King—an ignorant notion.
The Demon King was weak only because of the dimension’s interference power.
Because he could not freely bring forth his legion.
Humans of recent eras had never experienced the might of Demon Kings who had, over long ages, undone all those restrictions.
Of course, that did not mean the Demon King held absolute superiority.
If he had, the Demon King would have already conquered the world, and Berje would not have failed in the past.
Heroes were strong. And numerous. In some aspects, they rivaled the Demon King—only they simply could not do so everywhere.
From afar, Ralph was seen running urgently toward them.
His shield, though scratched, still held firm. He possessed the defence to partially endure Draxon’s attacks. But he lacked the speed to chase a Demon King who was determined to break through.
Rozel, bleeding, possessed magical flames capable of incinerating even a Demon King. But she had no means of blocking a Demon King’s assault.
At best once or twice—defensive magic specialized for attack mages was powerless before a Demon King.
The two had become more complete by joining forces, yet once the Demon King decided to shake them off, cracks began to form.
Ralph was busy chasing the Demon King’s tail, and Rozel desperately fought to survive the fierce barrage.
It was one-sided—truly one-sided—and at this rate, the Demon King’s victory was as good as foretold.
“But I can’t stand to watch that.”
Hillan. The moment his name was called, he stepped forward.
Here, the ones who could hold the Demon King even a little were not two—but three.
Hillan’s sword targeted Draxon’s back. The creature twisted its body, its claws crashing against the blade.
Claaang—
Hillan staggered back two steps. In that brief instant, Ralph stepped between Rozel and Draxon.
“Right, you were here—Hillan Cargill, who killed Turrus.”
Draxon’s gaze moved to Hillan, then beyond him toward Berje.
For a fleeting moment, he hesitated, but soon regained his composure and bared his fangs.
*‘What a disgustingly filthy mana. There’s no way that thing is Berje.’*
It was pure mana that stood at the complete opposite of Demonic Power, and it stirred an instinctive revulsion in him.
He decided.
*‘Hillan Cargill dies first.’*
Among the humans gathered here, the strongest three were Ralph, Rozel, and Hillan—yet the weakest of the three was Hillan Cargill.
Having settled his thoughts, the Demon King moved. He lunged at Hillan, who was still absorbing the impact.
KWAANG!
Sword and claws collided. Hillan retreated one step. The claws that grazed past the blade went for his forearm.
“Kh…!”
Hillan forcibly deflected the claws. Enduring the dull ache in his wrist, he invoked magic with his free hand.
Ultra-fast casting—lightning flickered in an instant.
Bzzzzzt—
Lightning exploded. Draxon’s movements halted for the briefest moment.
Hillan darted into its reach and thrust his sword. The sharp aura pierced the hide.
“It tickles.”
Unlike the words, blood spilled. A thick hand clamped down on the sword. Swelling Demonic Power shattered the aura.
Thud—
Hillan’s body reeled.
At that moment, flames surged—pure to the extreme, and therefore all the more repulsive.
It was the one resembling Berje. Draxon’s face twisted.
“A thing that isn’t even a hero dares—”
A hero could kill a Demon King not only because of strength but because they possessed interference power, that special force—practically poison to demonkind.
Even the same magic, when imbued with interference power, became lethal to the demons.
Flames that were merely pure and hot were only mildly troublesome, never absolute.
But Berje’s goal was nothing more than stealing the Demon King’s attention for a moment.
Clank—
During that moment, a massive shield rose toward the Demon King.
A shield clad in aura was, on its own, a monstrous bludgeon.
Claang—
Claws tore through the air. The aura coating the shield shattered. A faint groan followed. But Ralph did not take a single step back as he endured it.
And through that opening—
“A mage can cast stronger magic when using blood as a medium.”
Scorching heat rippled.
“So thanks for giving me some of your blood, you bastard.”
The Archmage’s flames erupted.
They were sharp enough to pierce even the Demon King’s Demonic Power.
It was hot enough to scorch the beast’s fur.
Because of that, Draxon intended to evade. He would have, if not for the iron wall blocking his retreat.
On one side was a wall, on the other lightning burst upward. His judgment was quick.
*‘I can’t break through the shield easily. But lightning— I just have to endure it.’*
He slammed his foot into the ground. The electric current failed to pierce his hide and dissipated. He roared at Hillan Cargill, who stood blocking his way.
“Die!”
The surging Demonic Power of the Demon King exploded in all directions.
Hillan Cargill hastily raised his sword.
Claang—
The tip of the blade shook. Shattered fragments of aura scattered in every direction.
KWAANG!
Ralph’s shield slammed into Hillan’s back. Hillan swallowed the dizzying pain. If one brief wound could remove even a single incoming attack, it was worth it.
A kick flew out. Struck in the chest, Hillan Cargill coughed blood and staggered back two steps. In that brief window, he even managed to carve a wound into Draxon’s leg—commendable, to a degree.
But that was all.
“How disappointing. For someone who killed Turrus, you’re far too weak.”
‘*So you haven’t fully absorbed it yet?*’
Even in this urgent moment, mockery flowed naturally. How arrogant must he have become after slaying a Demon King?
How much must he have come to treat demons like trivial insects?
Draxon detonated all his Demonic Power. The stormlike force hurled Ralph backward. Hillan staggered. Through that gap, Draxon’s attack drove in.
Fwoosh—
At that moment, flames rushed toward him—completely unexpected flames.
Fire clung to his tail, and he swallowed a groan.
*‘When—?’*
Even if his attention had been on the heroes, to think he hadn’t sensed it?
His puzzlement lasted only a moment. It wasn’t a big problem. The flames split apart. He pushed his body through the opening.
“With pathetic flames like this, you think you can—?”
That was when he sensed something wrong.
Grey. No—black.
The crimson flames were turning black.
With a familiarity as unpleasant as it was intimate.
Red hair darkened into black.
Ruby-like pupils became obsidian.
Everything changed.
Mana disappeared. Thick Demonic Power writhed.
“...Be… rje?”
The unknown man had become Berje Deias.
“Seeing you like this makes it even nicer.”
Berje smiled.
His intervention was no coincidence.
Rozel Charnte was strong. Ralph Schmitz was solid.
But they were not the Rozel Charnte from before his regression, nor the Ralph Schmitz who had endured attacks unleashing nearly all his restraints.
Thus he was certain they would not be able to corner Draxon, so he suppressed his presence and waited.
Waited for the perfect moment—when he himself could act, when he could shake Draxon.
“Your Demonic Power exploding hides mine.”
“And your massive body blocks their line of sight.”
“When they were finally prepared to strike at your opening.”
Wasn’t that moment right now?
“No way, you—!”
Fwoosh—
Black flames swallowed Draxon whole.
“Is your tail alright? I made sure to tell Hillan about your weakness.”
“YOOOOOOOOOUUUU!”
A black wave surged in every direction.
But Berje once more pulled Demonic Power into himself and let his body be carried by the wave.
It lasted only an instant, but his role was over.
He had melted a portion of Draxon’s Demonic Power with the black flames.
And for a brief moment, he had drawn Draxon’s focus so completely that he could not move.
For that short span, the creature was no different from a knight stripped of his armor.
And the seasoned heroes did not miss that opening.
───!
Flames capable of piercing a Demon King’s barrier burst forth.
Those flames, once meaningless because he could never land a proper hit, now revealed their true worth.
They dug into the weakened gap where Demonic Power had been burned away.
Draxon screamed. Through that opening, the steel knight swung his shield.
A single heavy blow slowed Draxon’s movements. The knight’s skill prevented even the slightest attempt to recover.
Flames burned Draxon. The shield smashed into him again.
Tough hide burned away. Hard muscles collapsed. Horrific pain swallowed him.
Yet Draxon did not care. The rage flooding to the top of his skull numbed all reason.
“DIE!”
He charged toward Berje, who had been flung far away.
Behind him, Rozel Charnte’s crimson flames surged. In front of him, Berje’s scorching blaze fired once more.
He broke through the flames with ease.
At that moment, Hillan Cargill’s sword burst with light.
The slash flying toward his neck was something even Draxon could not ignore.
Even if Hillan lagged behind the other two, he was still an exceptional hero.
Sharp enough to pierce his neck.
Draxon twisted his upper body without changing his stance. The blade narrowly grazed his shoulder.
And Rozel’s flames washed over that spot.
Along with heat, dimensional force burrowed inside and tore his body apart.
He screamed from the unbearable agony.
“Hillan!”
‘*You must be the one to kill him!*’
Berje swallowed the rest of the words.
That alone was enough. Hillan’s magic exploded forth. His sword followed immediately after.
Draxon blankly watched the blade descending toward his head.
He wanted to block it, but his half-melted body was unbearably slow.
Thunk—
“Ah.”
A short, final exhale.
Cold steel pierced through his mouth and lodged inside his throat.
As the world flipped upside down, a shadow approached.
“Oh, right.”
Berje whispered.
“That Phoenix corpse you wanted. It was absolutely incredible.”
“Yo…!”
Draxon’s eyes widened. The faint traces of Demonic Power quivered.
But soon—
Crunch—
Cold steel brushed across his neck.
His unfocused head dropped to the ground.
The uncontrolled Demonic Power scattered in all directions.
A portion of it flowed into Hillan Cargill, who had delivered the final blow to the Demon King’s life.
* * *
“Found it!”
Gordon shot to his feet.
How could he make that swindler Zetoson walk into the Golden Moon on his own?
He had agonised over it for a long time, and at last he had found the answer.
There was ultimately only one thing to focus on:
Destroying Zetoson’s support base—meaning, ruining his shop.
When someone was cornered and had nowhere left to draw money from, he would have no choice but to think of Berje, who had tossed him a whole 1 gold.
“This part is obvious.”
In truth, the idea of ruining the shop had come to him long ago. The difficult part was how to naturally destroy a shop located in the royal capital of the Kingdom of Arkan—without revealing that he was a demon.
He had thought long and hard, and finally reached a conclusion.
“I was thinking about this all wrong! It doesn’t need to look natural!”
He just needed the shop ruined, no matter the method. He had overcomplicated it.
He had been obsessed with creating a grand, flawless plan.
“As long as they don’t find out I’m a demon, it doesn’t matter if it looks unnatural!”
Right—whether everything got smashed, burned down, or a natural disaster conveniently struck—
The important part was simply that this Zetoson ended up penniless.
“The cleanest would be a thief breaking in. Or maybe a sudden, accidental fire. If not that, he could get beaten up by some local thugs and be buried in hospital bills.”
There were plenty of methods. And plenty of means.
Because Gordon had the connections Berje had built up.
“It pisses me off to talk to that elf bastard, but…”
When it came to avoiding suspicion, mercenaries were always the best.
“I can’t let anyone discover I’m a demon, so I’ll have to go the long way around. First, convince some random human from some random city to go to another kingdom…”
Then, in that kingdom, use that human to bribe yet another human to place a request at a guild in another kingdom.
“Perfect.”
A bit troublesome, but who cared? Granada would be the one doing the work anyway. If it was a command from the Demon King, he would grumble but follow through.
Just then—
『Gordon.』
The communication orb vibrated.
“Aman?”
It was Aman, heir to the Golden Moon Merchant Company and a Black Knight.
『Do you by any chance know someone named Zetoson?』
“…Zetoson? Why Zetoson?”
『He came looking for work at the Golden Moon. Says he came down from the mountains. Did the Demon King send him?』
“...”
Gordon quietly tore his plan sheet in half.
…Damn it.
“Yes. Accept him and keep him there. The Demon King has high expectations for him.”
『Understood.』
The line went dead. Gordon let out a hollow laugh.
“...Is His Majesty disciplining me because I was a bit defiant at the start?”
It made no sense—why force him to act pointlessly after he had already prepared everything?
The more he thought about it, the more intentional it felt, and Gordon quietly ground his teeth.
『Gordon.』
At that moment, another communication orb rang.
This time, it was Krutu, chieftain of the Red Frost Tribe.
“What is it now?”
『Now?』
“No, forget it. What is it?”
『I hesitated whether to report this or not, but… recently a human has been climbing up Ergest.』
“Why bother with just one?”
『It is only one, but not someone who can be dismissed.』
Not merely “one” after all. Being able to freely enter Ergest meant he was a warrior of considerable strength.
『Many of my subordinates have already died. But I cannot defeat him with my strength, so I ordered them to keep their distance and only observe from afar.』
“You did well. Any idea what his purpose is?”
『Every day he appears at a different part of the mountain range, then vanishes. And… this might sound like needless worry, but…』
Krutu hesitated before continuing.
『He is gradually drawing closer to the Demon King’s tower. I believe he may be searching for it.』
“...!”
An alarm rang in Gordon’s mind.