Chapter 6

Generally, the Mazoku employed a strategy of manipulating Variants to steer battles in their favor.

In most circumstances, the Mazoku preferred to conclude a battle using only Variants. Their appearance on the battlefield was reserved for two extreme situations: when victory was near certain, to put a final, decisive point on the conflict, or when victory was impossible without their direct participation.

It wasn’t that the Mazoku’s inherent strength was inferior to that of humans or Orcs. Rather, the individual abilities of the Mazoku were generally considered far superior to those of most humans, Orcs, or Elves.

They possessed formidable physical prowess coupled with bizarre dark magic, and a remarkable regenerative capacity that allowed them to almost endlessly restore damaged bodies.

Yet, despite their numerous strengths and exceptional abilities, the Mazoku never willingly stood at the forefront of any battle.

The reason was simple.

When a Mazoku died, the Variants they controlled turned into scarecrows, ceasing all resistance, like puppets with severed strings.

In the Mazoku military system, the importance of commanders was on a completely different scale compared to the military systems of other sentient races.

In the armies of humans, Orcs, or Elves, even if a commander were to die in an unforeseen accident, subordinates such as adjutants or squadron leaders could take over their role.

But the Mazoku could not.

If the Mazoku of a particular unit died, the battlefield froze in place.

This characteristic of the Mazoku wasn’t exclusive to the Mazoku-Variant relationship.

It also manifested in the relationship between Grand Mazoku and their subordinate Mazoku.

When a Grand Mazoku died, all Mazoku under that individual’s command instantly lost their functionality.

The Mazoku would freeze in place the moment the Grand Mazoku they served died, becoming unable to act, mere scarecrows; naturally, the Variants they controlled would also turn into scarecrows.

From the beginning, independent thought or creativity was permitted only to the ‘Grand Mazoku,’ the highest echelon of command; the Mazoku beneath them were merely loyal and dull dogs following the Grand Mazoku’s orders.

Therefore, the Grand Mazoku rarely revealed themselves to humans.

The Archduke’s demise meant a significant loss of power for the demonic ranks.

“Tch, the barrier magic’s been fried by lightning.”

Archduke Maltiel, eyes closed as he manipulated the Variants amidst the burning forest, clicked his tongue.

A boy with snow-white hair had unleashed a fierce bolt of lightning, completely shattering the barrier magic that encircled the entire forest.

The moment the barrier crumbled, Maltiel had ordered the Variants to eliminate the mage wielding the crystal orb, but this too was thwarted by the white-haired boy.

“Quick on the uptake. Another reason to kill him.”

Maltiel slowly rose his crimson form from within the blazing undergrowth.

Sending some half-baked High Demon against a monster possessing such talent, and failing to completely snuff out his life, would only invite a devastating calamity later.

For most sentient beings, ‘pain that doesn’t kill’ is usually employed as fertilizer for growth.

A monster like that, even as a seedling, must have its roots completely ripped out and incinerated. That was Archduke Maltiel’s standing order.

“Now that word of the Archduke’s appearance has reached headquarters… that b*stard will start rushing here. Two minutes left, no, if I’m being generous, three, maybe?”

Maltiel unfurled wings of solid scales, like those of a dragon, to either side and soared into the sky. Burning leaves clung to him, yet the Archduke didn’t even feign discomfort. To an Archduke, something like that barely even qualified as a scratch.

“Must end this quickly.”

Engulfed in flames, the Archduke charged straight toward the boy spewing forth blue lightning.

* * *

*Swishhh…*

An alien surge of electricity tingled by my ears.

A colossal pressure, unlike anything I’d felt in life, weighed down on my shoulders, and a profound dread, unmitigated even by my [Composure] trait, constricted my chest.

I swiftly snapped my gaze towards the source of the sharp, piercing stare.

There, stood a demon wreathed in flames, as if freshly crawled out of the inferno.

“This… what is…!”

The demon, who had been floating serenely above, wings spread wide, instantly tucked them in and rocketed straight toward me.

I flung myself toward the burning forest, bursting off the ground. There was no time for thought.

*Wham!*

Like a small meteorite strike, a deafening roar erupted, shaking the ground and scattering burning leaves in every direction.

A hair’s breadth.

A moment’s hesitation and I’d be paste beneath that brute’s feet.

“My first outing in ages, and I was hoping to savor it… what a shame. All because that little witch had to meddle.”

At the archdemon’s entrance, Herrion went ashen and prostrated herself, utterly silent.

Even with my [Composure] trait, the pressure is almost unbearable. What must it be like for an ordinary mage?

Hands and feet paralyzed, brain frozen by sheer terror.

“I’d say we have about three minutes, give or take. I trust you’ll entertain me.”

The archdemon raised a finger towards Herrion, who was lying flat on the ground like some insect. The next instant, a storm of arrows rained down on her.

Herrion, it seemed, had been rendered incapable of even summoning a barrier, her mind locked in fear. Dozens of arrows pierced her body, the sound of bone and flesh tearing apart drowning out the crackle of the flames, stabbing into my ears.

The light vanished from her eyes in a blink.

Goosebumps erupt all over me, a chill spreading through my limbs.

Her voice, so nonchalant just moments ago as she asked what my favorite spell was, now sliced across my throat like a blade.

Death has stepped so close it casts a shadow on my face.

Inside my head, fear and reason began to battle for control, adrenaline surging.

*Calm. Stay calm.*

I managed to hold onto a sliver of composure, thanks to my [Calm] trait, even as every emotion roiled within me.

“It’s rare to find one who isn’t overwhelmed in my presence. You’re clearly cut from a different cloth than that refuse sprawled over there.”

The Archduke’s inky black fingers pointed towards Herion’s corpse.

The monster seemed utterly unconcerned by the recent slaughter, as if it were nothing.

Like peeling an apple without a flicker of feeling, this monster apparently felt nothing when ending a life.

My stomach churned, but I somehow clung to the threads of reason and forced my frozen tongue to move.

“What is a figure like you even doing here?”

I spoke to the Archduke, ready to react to an attack at any moment.

The Archduke, revealing himself…

This was absolutely not normal.

There had to be a reason.

A reason big enough for the Archduke to risk exposing himself, a risk that was astronomical.

To formulate a survival strategy, I had to figure out that reason first.

How else could I threaten, negotiate, or even beg, without understanding the enemy’s intentions?

“What does it look like? I came to kill you. What other reason would compel me to expose myself to such a risk?”

The Archduke responded with a sneer.

“……”

I could only stare blankly at the Archduke’s mocking face.

…What the hell is this b*stard saying?

Came to kill me? The Archduke? Risking exposure to do it?

I stared at the Overlord’s face, lost for a moment.

But, what am I?

I just escaped the tutorial zone, a level 1 character?

“Why the vacant expression? Did you think I wouldn’t know you turned my children to ash in a single blow?”

…Huh?

“Furthermore, you used only a single spell to kill my precious subordinate. There are few mages in this world capable of such a feat.”

“…”

“You are at least a 7th Circle mage. Considering you reached the 7th Circle at such a young age, you’ll reach the 9th Circle soon enough.”

“What are you even saying…?”

I blurted out the words I had only thought in my head, without even realizing it.

…Seriously, what the heck is this guy on about?

7th, 8th Circles. And a 9th Circle mage is the pinnacle of the mage class, something you can only reach in the late game, when your character’s level is around 90.

And here I am, a worthless vagrant character born only three days ago. I couldn’t understand how I ended up being misunderstood by the Overlord like this.

Things were tangled, badly tangled.

‘No, think of it differently. This is an opportunity. He’s vastly overestimating me. If I play my cards right, I might be able to escape this insane situation.’

I desperately tried to calm my agitated heart and decided to make the most of the situation.

Thanks to not using any magic for the past three days, a considerable amount of mana had accumulated within me. With [Bloom] active, I should be able to survive, running and hiding, for as long as it lasted.

Of course, the moment that time ran out, I’d be turned into a chunk of meat without a shred of mercy.

But, he doesn’t know I have this time limit.

Besides, this Overlord recognizes me as a 7th Circle… no, a high-level mage hiding even greater magic.

Perhaps the reason he hasn’t pounced, instead choosing this standoff, is because he roughly estimates I possess more potent magic hidden away.

‘The reality is, I’m discharging every last scrap of mana I possess at full power…’

It feels like standing alone on a glacier fractured with cracks, as if it could shatter any moment.

The instant I lose my balance, that deep abyss will drag me down, a dizzying chill creeping up my toes.

‘Composure, stay composed.’

Firstly, begging for my life or attempting negotiation was impossible.

That mad b*stard’s objective was none other than my life.

However, even from the Overlord’s perspective, this situation must be burdensome.

The most textbook method for a demon to face a mage is to throw their mutated creatures at them, draining their mana to the fullest before hunting them down.

Unlike classes like warrior or barbarian, mages must expend an energy called ‘mana’ each time they cast magic.

Mages are powerful and dangerous, but a mage who has spent all their mana degrades to dead weight.

The Overlord who appeared before my eyes also aimed for this, initially launching a surprise attack with an army composed solely of mutated creatures.

But the magic disrupting communications was shattered by the lightning I summoned, the Overlord’s location was reported to headquarters, and the whole situation twisted.

Therefore, the Overlord was saddled with a short three-minute time limit, and to achieve his objective within this brief window, he had to risk appearing directly before a mage who hadn’t even exhausted their mana.

‘The burden weighing on his shoulders is heavy. Moreover, he recognizes me as a high-ranking mage, so he’ll absolutely avoid making any rash moves. In that case…’

I swallowed my dry saliva secretly, then took a shallow breath…

Raising my head arrogantly, I slowly opened my mouth.

“…Hah.”

If begging or negotiation are impossible, there’s only one option left, isn’t there?

All I could do was threaten.

“Well, seems like you know everything, so there’s no need to hide it.”

Shit. No matter how I racked my brain, this was the only answer.

And so, I brazenly looked down at the Archduke, feigning madness, and spat out that pathetic line.

*Kwaaang!*

Immediately after that pathetic line, I unleashed as much mana as I possibly could.

The surrounding debris of trees and chunks of rock shattered into fragments.

Wasting mana on thin air felt extravagant, but it was an unavoidable choice to instill maximum pressure on my opponent.

Even a sliver of fear… no, I wouldn’t even hope for fear. Just the slightest hesitation would be more than enough.

“The flow of your mana is quite unique. A kind I’ve never seen before. What magic are you employing? Is it a self-developed spell? It’s unfamiliar, but its profound completeness and finesse are undeniable.”

As expected, Archduke Maltiel seemed to be seeing [Bloom] magic for the first time.

From the start, [Bloom] was recognized by most orthodox mages as a skill not to be taken, or one to invest in lightly, only up to level 1 or so. So, it wasn’t a surprising reaction.

“…”

I maintained as stoic an expression as possible, responding to his question with silence.

There was no need for me to further embellish the magic’s power or strength.

Facing the unknown is the greatest fear for any sentient being.

I didn’t know if that monster was even capable of fear, but at any rate, maintaining silence would surely be far more effective than pretending “this magic is unbelievably powerful.”

“…Most astonishing is your camouflage. Whatever kind of magic it is, to my eyes, you still appear to possess only the mana of a 4th Circle mage. Are you suppressing your mana? It’s a fairly decent tactic of deception.”

As I remained silent, the Archduke began to intensely roll his red eyes, trying to analyze me.

The lives of thousands of demons rested on the Archduke’s shoulders.

He couldn’t recklessly charge at a mage using unfamiliar magic without properly analyzing them, the burden he carried was far too great.

‘Deceptive tactics, my ass. It’s just that my mana is at the 4th Circle level. Damn it, I’ve only been born for three days.’

“Impressive. If time were ample, I would relish a drawn-out fight with you.”

That monster surely wouldn’t even dream that the mage before him, the one reducing its mutated forms to ash along with the forest, was a mere Level 1 trash character.

… That it was all a result of a bizarre build that discarded everything else to maximize only ‘Awakening’.

“Hmm… I shall concede the first move. Come forth.”

Archlord Malthael spoke, regarding me with evident interest.

It seemed he believed there were too many variables to attack first, choosing instead to analyze me by countering my assault.

He lowered his stance, wings spread wide, ready to deflect any electrical attack at a moment’s notice.

I, naturally, launched no attack whatsoever.

Having expended half my mana to unleash that lightning strike of unimaginable force, easily surpassing hundreds of millions of volts, only moments ago.

“…”

“…”

Amidst the burning trees all around us, a bitter, frigid current passed between myself and the Archlord.

A twitch…!

The instant one of the Archlord’s fingers twitched, I discharged every ounce of electricity within me.

Leaves and tree trunks were engulfed in flames, struck by the current emanating from my body.

“Ha!”

That gruesome face crinkled with a smile.

“I said I would concede the first move. What are you waiting for?”

“Why would I think of playing to your tune?”

I answered, my face twisting subtly. I’d hoped to convey discomfort, perhaps a touch of irritation, but who knew if I’d succeeded.

“You refuse my… kindness?”

“……”

Again, I met his question with silence.

“Why so quiet? Are you frightened? Your eyes don’t betray it. What are you waiting for? I, Maltiel, grant you the first strike, don’t you hear?”

Maltiel provoked me, bringing that obsidian-dark finger to his throat, as if daring me to unleash a thunderbolt.

“Go on, try. Don’t you wish to be the hero who slew the Grand Overlord?”

A dry sound.

I forced out a hollow, mocking laugh.

“Your tongue wags too much. Beginning to feel… anxious, perhaps?”

I spoke with the same arrogance as before, pasting the expression on my face.

Damn it, I didn’t even know what I was doing anymore.

“You feel the fear, but you don’t lose your composure. And you’re barely more than a sapling – sixteen, seventeen at best!”

Maltiel stared at me, splitting his mouth in a wide, gleeful grin.

To him, all of this was nothing more than a twisted game.

It was then.

“All units! Shift the objective from ‘survival’ to ‘protect the boy’! This boy cannot die here! He is a valuable asset! Get him to the capital, no matter the cost!”

The oppressive tension between me and the Grand Overlord was abruptly shattered by the booming declaration of Rex, that damned Orc hero.

…What in the blazes is that Orc blathering on about now?

Damnation, I didn’t understand a single thing about how this was unfolding.