Chapter 67

They often describe feeling incredibly good as ‘feeling like you’re flying in the sky.’

Or like walking on clouds.

For animals unable to fly, the sky has always been an object of yearning, akin to an unknown paradise.

I, too, had thought the sky was such a pleasant place.

…That’s all I knew.

“You damn lunatic, put me downnnn!”

The feeling of flying in the sky.

Especially the feeling of flying in the sky atop a magnificent and enormous deer.

It was, to put it mildly, the absolute worst.

“Ha! Seems the ‘Dominator of Spirits’ is more afraid of the sky than the Transcendent before him?”

“Let me down, let me down! You freaking…!”

“…What is that?”

Then, not so far off, a demon with skin like polished obsidian came flapping towards us. My head was in a whirl, so I couldn’t be sure, but its wings were larger than those of the common demon, and its claws were long, making it seem anything but ordinary.

“Huh?”

Dajin was busy teasing me for shouting from behind, and seemed to notice the approaching demon late.

“…This is a situation I fail to comprehend.”

The demon muttered, gathering black light in its fingers. It seemed this one’s personality was to shoot magic first whenever an incomprehensible scene presented itself.

Some demons really live easy lives, huh.

“Bah, reek elsewhere, don’t poison the air with that stench.”

*BANG!*

Divine punishment ripped through the black thunderclouds, piercing the demon’s body. A deafening boom followed, rattling the very air around us.

…The demon’s body, in a flash of light, was simply erased from existence. Vanished without even a trace of ash, as though it had never been there at all.

“…”

I could feel the battlefield fall silent with that single clap of thunder.

The gazes of everyone below were drawn, naturally, to Dajin and me.

“Ha! How about that? Doesn’t that make me a pretty decent soldier?!”

Draw attention.

Even Beld, who gave the order, surely hadn’t imagined I’d draw this *much* attention.

Attention-seeking power that far exceeded the commander’s expectations…!

“Haha, dammit.”

What a mess, truly.

“Hey, more are coming. The stench is burning my nostrils raw.”

Then, a small point on the ground there began to gather crimson light. Likely one of the higher-ranking demons had ordered me targeted.

“Hey, this isn’t lookin’ so go—!”

Whoosh!

Dajin twisted in mid-air before I could even finish. The sudden change in trajectory nearly sent me flying from this damn deer’s back.

This jerk thinks that just because he defies the laws of physics, the one riding him is exempt too.

Consider inertia, would ya? I’m gonna fall.

A red ray zipped past my ear.

A hole opened in the storm clouds above, revealing a sliver of sunlight.

“I can’t stand the stench of dark magic.”

Bathed in the newly found sunlight, the lightning spirit, now glowing more brightly, glared coldly at the demons who dared attack him.

“Don’t spoil the fun, now.”

Immediately after, a massive current of electricity slammed into the earth from above. A countless multitude of light pillars utterly devastated everything below.

Even though he couldn’t unleash his full power, even though he’s rude and has a twisted personality, Dajin is still a lightning spirit.

Turning those low to mid-tier demons into ash was nothing to him.

“…Hey, hey! Archer squad to the right!”

Scanning the ground frantically, checking for another incoming barrage, my eyes landed on a cluster of mutants in tattered armor. The monsters were wielding enormous longbows.

It’s rare for mutants to use weapons. A mutant wielding a weapon meant a Dark Lord created it directly, and mutants created by a Dark Lord were monstrous beings with levels of at least 60.

A threat immeasurably greater than those low to mid-tier demons from before.

“They’re firing! Move it, you moron! You might be fine, but if I get hit by that, I’m dead!”

The archer mutant count was at least forty or fifty.

Monsters well over level 60. To hit a target flying through the air without any cover at all wouldn’t be a challenge for them.

I couldn’t help but feel a chill run down my spine. Death, I could see it flying towards me rapidly from afar. Poison-tipped arrows, tracing straight lines through the fog, aimed for my throat.

A wide curtain of arrows surged from below. My spine, now colder than cold, ached with the chill.

“Hm.”

*KRA-KOOM!*

The next moment, the electricity erupting from Dajin’s body clung to one of the arrows, then blossomed into a massive flame that spread in all directions. The arrows hurtling towards me vanished in an instant, leaving not even ashes behind.

The acrid smell of burning assaulted my nostrils.

Dajin didn’t even glance at the arrows that had flown towards us.

“This one is… somewhat tolerable, I suppose.”

The next instant, a colossal lightning bolt crashed down once more through a hole in the storm clouds. The level 60 archers, too, became nothing more than blackened cinders before the pillar of light Dajin summoned.

…I felt a little ashamed of myself for being so disappointed at the notion that he couldn’t fully exert his power outside the Achilliptus Forest.

‘A Transcendental being is… a Transcendental being.’

“Still a stench, though. All these demonic minions use such repulsive magic. Quite unbearable.”

Dajin, looking irritated, began to roam the battlefield more aggressively. He found the demons lurking beneath the mud of the desolate zone with uncanny accuracy, turning them to ash, and even roasting a patchwork golem cobbled together from several massive orcs.

Dajin freely ascended until clouds brushed his feet, then plummeted until he almost touched the ground.

Alternating between the reek of burning corpses and the dampness of the storm clouds, my vision swam and my brain felt starved of oxygen.

“Don’t fall asleep, now. You wouldn’t want to miss all the fun!”

Not only was this b*stard rampaging through the desolate zone at will, but he also flung a massive sphere of lightning into the heart of the enemy ranks.

Naturally, the demons weren’t just going to stand by and watch…

In an instant, the sky was blanketed with magic spells aimed to intercept us.

The sun, poking its head through shattered clouds, still deigned to shine upon us.

“Such unsightly writhing! Is this how much you desire to live?!”

…I no longer know how to resolve this situation.

Wouldn’t it be enough if that b*stard, Dajin, didn’t mistake our lines for the enemy’s…?

Yes, alright.

At least he doesn’t use lightning on allies; let’s be content with that.

* * *

Deep within the filthiest, darkest cavern of Valderan.

Upon a throne wrought of blood and bone, a demon with charcoal skin and enormous wings sat enthroned.

The tens of kilos of flesh composing the throne were interwoven, clinging to one another with gruesome tenacity. From the tiny cracks trickled a bright yellow fluid, one that even the demon who crafted the seat might hesitate to call blood, and might instead name poison.

“Hmm….”

Charcoal skin and enormous wings, elongated claws and crimson eyes.

The demon enthroned was Maltiel, one of the Great Overlords, a high-ranking executive in the Demon King’s army.

The fiend was considerably displeased.

Just as a new idea for a mutated variant design bloomed in his mind, a clamor arose outside.

“You’ve arrived, Samael.”

“…I have returned.”

Maltiel, seated upon his throne of blood and flesh, noticed the expression on the face of his lieutenant, Samael, who had just entered, and betrayed a hint of bewilderment.

For etched upon Samael’s countenance was a rare sight: ‘discomposure.’

“A rare expression indeed. What did you witness outside? Has the Sword Saint arrived, perhaps? If so, report it quickly. We must abandon the operation and flee.”

“…….”

Samael hesitated, then slowly opened his mouth.

“The boy, Vin, do you recall him?”

“Of course I remember. A monster that would become a Swordmaster-level headache, even if left alone for just a decade.”

“That monster is currently…”

Samael paused, catching his breath. Even he wasn’t sure if what he’d witnessed was real.

“…riding a Lightning Spirit, rampaging across the battlefield.”

“…….”

“…….”

Silence.

A heavy, unsettling silence hung between the two demons.

“……What?”

Unable to believe the report, Maltiel connected his mind to one of the mutations he had created.

The mutation’s vision was obscured, as though it had lost sight in one eye, but there was no time to dwell on such things.

The mutation, controlled by Maltiel, tilted its head high toward the sky, where Dajin and Vin were.

The Lightning Spirit, like a god enraged by something, slammed pillars of light into the ground. The sound of thunder never ceased, and the world was alternately painted in shades of gray and stark white light.

Subordinate demons and mutations tried to intercept them, launching arrows and spells into the heavens, but they were reduced to ashes by the powerful currents that surrounded the Lightning Spirit.

The Lightning Spirit, surrounded by its immense power, soared gracefully through the sky as if the battlefield were its own home.

Lightning bolts crashed repeatedly into the ground, and the dark clouds grew ever thicker.

“Drive him slowly, you b*stard! I’m gonna fall!”

“Ha, what’s the Master of Spirits to do if he can’t even endure this!”

And upon the spirit’s back, as if it were the most natural thing, rode Veen.

It defied understanding.

Barely a month ago, he was, at best, an average mage, maybe 7th or 8th Circle. A genius, certainly, with the potential to become a great figure given his age and latent power… but still.

‘…Riding on a spirit’s back? A mortal?’

It was no wonder Maltiel had never witnessed such a sight in all his years.

Nay, the spectacle unfolding on that battlefield was something never described, even in those oft-told fabricated tales of ‘legends’ and ‘fairy tales.’

Wasn’t a lightning spirit akin to a god among mages?

What was happening on that battlefield… was fundamentally no different than some low-ranking demon riding upon the back of a greater demon, rampaging through the fray.

“From my investigation, some among the allied forces are already referring to that Veen boy as the ‘Master of Spirits’…”

Samael’s voice cut through the growing confusion in Maltiel’s mind.

“Master of Spirits? Hmm.”

Almost unconsciously, Maltiel sighed and ran his hands over his forehead.

“…I must convene a Grand Lord Council at once.”

His growth rate was far exceeding what had been anticipated. Just how much talent resided within that boy, even Grand Lord Maltiel could not fathom.

“If that blossoms fully, the war is over.”

The Sword Saint.

That damned whelp was a human who dared to stand against the Demon Lord and the demons themselves.

Veen.

That insane brat… was a human who could become a monumental calamity, dwarfing even the Demon Lord and the demons.

Mastering a spirit only three months after learning magic, seizing the Achilliptus Forest from a high lord.

There’s nothing more to see. A strategy is needed, right now.

“Maltiel. What is all this, so suddenly? A meeting. And why is it so loud outside?”

“What in the abyss is that ruckus out there? Maltiel, isn’t that the mage you mentioned before, with the exact same description?”

“…I am simply overwhelmed.”

One by one, the voices of the other archdukes began to fill Maltiel’s mind.

Maltiel covered his horned face with his pitch-black hands and sighed.

“We have a new son-of-a-b*tch to kill. From this moment forward, we will lead all forces into an aggressive offensive.”

“An offensive? So sudden? If we just focus on defense as we always have, those pests will slowly wither and die, won’t they?”

“Who becomes the master of Vallerand is not the crucial question for us at this moment.”

Maltiel spoke as he slowly rose from his throne of bone and flesh.

“Our highest priority has just been altered. That mage, Bean, must be killed.”

At Maltiel’s words, the archdukes who were listening paused. Each of their minds raced, trying to determine what impact executing Maltiel’s plan would have on the entire demon race, and what direction it would lead the war.

“I admit, that little brat Bean has remarkable potential. But isn’t the risk a bit…substantial? Vallerand will fall into our hands smoothly if we continue as we are. We might even kill Bel and Grisha if we’re lucky. Are we really abandoning all those possibilities, and risking our own demise, just to kill that little whelp?”

Piercing the brief silence, someone questioned Maltiel. Doubt lingered in his voice, as if his cost-benefit analysis was still incomplete.

“The risk is worth taking. Even if all of us die, taking the life of that white-haired mage will benefit the demon race.”

“Hmm…”

“That’s quite a confident voice.”

Maltiel seemed to have already finished his calculations. With a voice full of conviction, that monster insisted that killing the young mage was unconditionally advantageous.

Hearing his voice, the archdukes quietly retreated into their thoughts, before carefully speaking again.

“I trust in Maltiel’s judgment. Never have I seen a mage riding the back of a spirit across the battlefield, nor are there records in the lore. It is certain that what is there now is a threat beyond measure.”

“And with outstanding potential for growth, if the rumors among the continentals are to be believed… they say he’s had proper magical training for only a few months?”

“Should I fly out and fight? If we’re going to kill him, it’s best to do it now, I think.”

“It’s undoubtedly a trap. Surely Bel and Grisha are ready to provide cover nearby. I would prefer to avoid a battle fought on their terms.”

“…You lot always overthink things.”

“Then it’s decided.”

Leaving behind the Archdemons who had begun to engage in petty bickering, Maltiel severed the connection.

Maltiel focused his mind in the dark cave. Soon, his consciousness linked with his high-ranking demonic subordinates.

“The Archdemon commands. Push the front lines forward.”

Maltiel’s command was delivered to the high-ranking demons. Soon, the high-ranking demons would deliver the same command to the regular demons, and the regular demons would issue the same order to the lesser demons and the Variants.

Under an extremely simple and clear command structure, the massive horde of living flesh rose to its feet.