Those Who Brought Ruin (2)
A heavily armored knight whose shield had been shattered beyond use, and a warrior whose mana sword had been destroyed and whose heart had taken a direct blow. The saintess poured her efforts into healing them. The hero stood in silence, merely gazing at the Demon Lord. For a moment, the two sides faced each other without a sound.
The sage glanced around, his brow furrowing, then sneered toward the Demon Lord.
“So we mere humans aren’t even worth your attention? You’ve been staring into that crystal ball this whole time, ignoring us completely. I suppose the great Demon Lord doesn’t care if her castle and subjects burn. Even with enemies right in front of you, you won’t rise from your throne…”
It was a forced, mocking remark meant to mask the cold sweat running down his back, but the Demon Lord did not so much as twitch. The sage had no choice but to inflate his own achievements, yet time was running out. He had to finish the Demon Lord with the comrades he had here before reinforcements arrived. Only then could the hero’s party proudly claim they had slain her.
“Look over here!!!”
Dozens of magic circles activated in the air, and an uncountable number of ice spears rained down upon the Demon Lord. It was as merciless as a massive waterfall pouring through a canyon. Shards of ice scattered everywhere, and a chilling mist filled the entire throne room, obscuring the Demon Lord from view. Even so, the sage felt no complacency that this alone would be enough. He immediately began preparing his next spell. Having drawn attention with the barrage of magic, it was time for a single, devastating strike.
A massive magic circle flared beneath the sage’s feet, and he began constructing the spell formula through rapid chanting. Crack!
“Guh…!!”
The circle shattered. The sage coughed up blood, his face twisted in shock. The silver mist cleared, revealing the Demon Lord’s crimson gaze. The moment that murderous light flashed, the sage felt as though his own head had been severed. He tried to ignore the killing intent, but what truly chilled him to the bone was the realization that the Demon Lord had dismantled his spell formula.
‘Mana interference…? No… my formula wouldn’t break from something that minor. She poured out more mana than I put into the formula and destroyed the spell itself…!!’
The thought drained the blood from his face. Magic always came with defensive formulas to guard against interference. The higher the tier, the greater the mana involved, making it impossible to disrupt with trivial amounts. Mana alone could not easily exert physical force; that was why spell formulas existed—to manifest magical phenomena. While there was a technique called mana interference that scattered an opponent’s mana using mana itself, it could only affect spells of the 1st tier at best, and only the most authoritative mages could wield it. Yet the Demon Lord had destroyed a 6th-tier spell simply by blasting it with raw mana. Just how immense was her magical authority?
He tried to force a smile to maintain his composure, but his eyes trembled uncontrollably and dizziness swept over him. Cold sweat drenched his body, and his hands began to shake.
‘I cast 6th-tier magic! And she destroyed it just by shooting mana at it!?’
“You’re underestimating me…!! You filthy demon!!!”
The sage began casting another powerful spell. Though the destruction of his previous formula had shaken him, he paid it no mind and prepared an even greater one. While focusing on his formula, he urgently called out to his allies.
“Amy! The Demon Lord is using mana to forcibly destroy my spells! Use your protective prayer! Hans! Gerdin! Handle the physical defense in front!”
He had considered asking the hero for help, but shook his head and concentrated on the chant instead. The hero was still only staring at the Demon Lord, showing no intention of moving. There was no point in urging a thoughtless comrade when completing the spell was all that mattered. In the end, she would have no choice but to fight—whether she wanted to or not.
“This is 7th-tier magic! Squallas Crush!!!”
Whoosh!
Thanks to Saintess Amy’s protective prayer, magical attacks could be avoided. Warrior Hans and Heavy Knight Gerdin had been positioned at the front to guard against any possible spell-formula destruction. With no interference, the sage successfully completed his most powerful offensive spell—7th-tier magic, Squallas Crush.
A wind spell named after a dragon. Multiple gusts of wind were compressed to the extreme and fired as a single shockwave. Air rushing in through the many windows of the throne room let out a terrifying howl as it was compressed into a small sphere. The spell sucked in so much atmosphere that the surrounding oxygen grew thin, and once the formula was complete, it unleashed the pent-up atmospheric pressure directly at the target.
It was already an explosion bursting forward. BOOM!!!
In an instant, the entire front exploded and crumbled. Dust filled the air, swirling violently. The wind blast had destroyed everything in sight with a single, brief roar, leaving behind a world of silence. Then the displaced air rushed back in to fill the void, whipping up a fierce storm.
Whoosh!!!
“Kyaaah!!!”
“Ghh…!!”
Even after the spell had been released, the aftershock alone felt like another storm spell. The saintess screamed while desperately maintaining her wavering protective prayer, and Gerdin struggled with all his might to withstand the raging wind from the front. In the midst of the natural disaster he had created, the sage wore a satisfied smile as he admired his masterpiece.
What I created is a calamity. A natural disaster! No living being of flesh and bone can withstand this raging force! I, a mere human, have performed a godlike miracle!
Drunk on deep ecstasy, the sage could not hold back his laughter and spread his arms wide, savoring the wind he had summoned. The aftershock did not last long and soon subsided, leaving only dust clouding the surroundings. Smiling, the sage cleared the dust away to behold the great result he had achieved.
“Wind.”
A pleasant breeze he had created swept the dust aside. Before long, the sage’s smile vanished, replaced by shock as his face twisted in horror.
Everything in front of him should have been destroyed, leaving only empty space. Yet what met his eyes was the Demon Lord, still seated on her throne, cradling the crystal ball. A mana barrier stood before her. Everything beyond it had been obliterated, but within the barrier, only tranquil peace remained, as if nothing had passed through at all.
The Demon Lord recognized the enemy standing before her and glared. Her gaze did not fall upon the insignificant sage. It was fixed on someone further back—someone who had just arrived at the throne room. A bizarre figure with long blue hair, wearing a crown and a scholar’s robe embroidered with golden thread.
“Is that all it takes to judge the Demon Lord, Sage Lamid?”
Sage Lamid felt his insides boil. He should have finished this before the man arrived. Now that this robed figure had appeared, even if they slew the Demon Lord, the glory would no longer belong solely to the hero’s party. It felt as though a treasure already in his grasp had been stolen. If only the hero had joined the fight earlier, things might have turned out differently. The thought made him dislike her as well.
Paying no heed to the sage’s turmoil, the man in the scholar’s robe walked leisurely up to the mana barrier the Demon Lord had erected and offered a noble, courteous greeting.
“Greetings, Demon Lord. My name is Kerdihak of Wisdom…”
“So this was your doing, dragon.”
Sky Dragon, Kerdihak of Knowledge. A dragon who coveted all the world’s knowledge and possessed an arrogant pride. That was why he was a pitiful dragon who envied Barkus, the Dragon of Ruin and lord of the sky dragons who protected Hemonigent. At his appearance, the Demon Lord—who had not spoken a single word until now—finally opened her mouth.
“Knowledge.”
“…??”
“Kerdihak of Knowledge. Others may call you that, but simply claiming the title yourself does not make it an epithet others will acknowledge.”
“It is Kerdihak of Wisdom.”
“Knowledge. You may possess much knowledge, but you hardly seem wise.”
As if the Demon Lord had struck a nerve, Kerdihak’s elegant, gentlemanly demeanor transformed in an instant, filling the air with a murderous atmosphere. The surrounding air grew oppressively heavy. Mana began to rage violently around him. Even his allies were forced to step back several paces under the terrifying pressure of his killing intent—everyone except the hero. Especially Sage Lamid and Saintess Amy, who were more sensitive to mana, felt as though they were suffocating beneath the storm-like torrent.
“Neromeltia. I showed you courtesy because you are already a dead woman walking, yet you still fail to see what is before you?”
“If this is what you call courtesy, then even the mother who raised you would understand.”
Kerdihak’s eyes were now bloodshot with rage. The Demon Lord, however, merely smirked mockingly.
“Ah, my apologies. I forgot you have no mother.”
“Infinite Lightning!!!”
Unable to contain his fury any longer, Kerdihak unleashed lightning from both hands. It was 7th-tier magic that poured forth endless bolts as long as mana was supplied. The more mana he poured in, the stronger it became. Since a dragon was casting it with full power, its might far surpassed the sage’s Squallas Crush. Beyond its raw power, the fact that he could invoke a spell of this scale without chanting demonstrated a vast difference in level.
CRACKLECRACKLECRACKLE!!!