Chapter 47
Chapter 47
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: Duel (3)
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Come to think of it.
Even trying to summon a demon when I'm not even one of its chosen vessels doesn't make any sense to begin with.
I did activate the possession skill, but the color spreading around wasn't anywhere near as vivid as when Elnor awakened the fragment inside her before. Normally, it wouldn't even settle into my body—it'd just scatter into the air around me.
But.
[ The 'Ta-Cheon Seal' reacts. ]
[ The demon's energy gathers around the Ta-Cheon Seal. ]
Yeah. I figured as much.
I have no idea exactly what this Ta-Cheon Seal does. The system window description is all garbled too.
“...”
A wry smile escapes me.
If I think about what the 'seals' demons leave on humans do in the game, it's obvious this will have some major impact on me down the line.
Who knows—it might even affect my mind as deeply as it does the other vessels with fragments implanted in them.
But for now.
I can use it to mimic being a vessel, if only for a moment.
“...”
The world slows to a crawl. Much like before.
But there's a clear difference from when it descended through Elnor as a medium.
Back then, everywhere the demon's energy touched came to a complete standstill. Now, things are still moving, just slowly. Slowly enough that I can track it with my eyes.
‘...Well, this figures.’
I let out another wry smile.
The Gray Devil's basic authority, 'Corrosion,' grants absolute control over all space it touches.
Even a vessel with just a single fragment can always activate it.
The fact that things are still moving, even slowly, means that even with the seal's help, I can't perform even this most fundamental function.
And yet.
I can see it, faintly.
The Gray Devil, taking Elnor's form.
Its outline is so hazy it's barely there. Makes sense, since I'm no true vessel.
On the plus side, the pressure radiating from it is much weaker too. Before, just meeting its gaze felt like it could kill me. Now, it's bearable.
“...”
The figure slowly descends from the sky, then walks toward me without a word.
One thing that's unmistakably clear: the same blank expression as Elnor's usual one.
Compared to that childlike reaction I saw before, this feels utterly alien.
“...”
Then I see those red eyes scanning every wound on my body, and the feeling intensifies.
This isn't just blank. It's...
‘...Ah, I get it.’
It's pissed.
It starts stomping its feet and puffing out its cheeks. The face is still expressionless, but it's clearly saying, I'm not happy about this!
Like, how dare you go around getting beat up like some sloppy kid? Take better care of yourself.
“...”
Fascinating.
Especially compared to the other demons, this one shows pure goodwill from a human perspective.
The vicious ones like the White or Blue Demons? If they descended like this, they'd probably bind or imprison me and do whatever they wanted, injuries be damned.
That's why I trust this one enough to summon it.
‘...Couldn't be helped this time.’
I give a wry smile with that in mind.
Time isn't fully stopped, but I can still move, slowly.
“...”
It stops stomping once it sees my face. Cheeks still puffed, though.
Then, keeping that expression, it walks closer and reaches out, touching my chest.
“Don’t go getting hurt like this anywhere. It upsets me.”
“...”
Got it. I'll keep that in mind.
Never imagined hearing something so warm from a demon.
Soon after, a soft light rises from my chest.
[ An attribute is added to the demon's energy gathered in the 'Ta-Cheon Seal.' ]
[ While the energy lingers, all your physical abilities are greatly enhanced by the Gray Devil's authority. ]
[ All your attacks gain additional matchup superiority against 'Divine Protection.' ]
“Give back as much as he hit you.”
...Guess that's why it boosted my physical abilities too.
More than enough. Overflowing, even.
I can tell just from the feel of the power dwelling in my body now.
With this much, carving up a guy like Klein would be a breeze.
And with that, having used up every bit of power it could manifest, the figure starts crumbling and scattering away.
“...”
Like before, it smirks faintly and opens its mouth again.
Its voice is too faint to hear now that its power's spent, but I can still read its lips.
‘I love you. See you later.’
Familiar words.
It said the exact same thing right before parting the first time we met, during that Purifier boss fight.
And.
‘Next time, definitely. You.’
I remember that clearly too.
But this time.
‘With me, to the end of the world—’
Those words were added on.
●
“...What was that?”
Suddenly, those words slip from Klein.
He has a bad feeling. His hands are still trembling slightly.
For just an instant, something was here.
Something that instinctively terrified him just by being near.
Proof: his entire body was drenched in cold sweat.
“Hmph.”
But before he can dwell on it, a snort from across the stage snaps his attention back to reality.
He hurriedly regrips his sword and assumes a stance.
“...”
But then his eyes drift off into space again.
Because there, across from him, Dawood Campbell was setting his weapon down on the ground.
“...What are you doing?”
Giving up completely? Accepting defeat meekly?
Dropping his weapon out of nowhere?
“No.”
His opponent replies in a flat voice, clenching and unclenching his fist while grimacing slightly.
Almost like even he's not used to his own body.
And from that, Klein instinctively realizes one thing.
This guy.
He's changed.
Something has 'descended' into him compared to before.
“Felt like I'd die in one hit if I used my sword.”
-!
Dawood's casually thrust fist connects squarely with Klein's jaw.
More like he just tapped it there. That's how half-hearted the motion was.
And yet, with just that.
“...!”
Before he can even cry out in shock at his layered blessings shredding like paper, Klein spits out a ragged breath and staggers back.
Concussion makes it hard to keep balance, but another attack comes right away.
Another half-hearted kick. The kind where you can tell he's deliberately pulling it.
But.
“Gah—!”
An explosive sound impossible for mere flesh-on-flesh impact sends Klein flying like a ball. As he tumbles messily across the stage, a trail of blood sprays from his mouth, leaving a long smear on the ground.
Even with that ridiculous motion, all his blessings shatter again, ribs cracking. The broken bones pierce his lungs, mixing blood into his breaths.
Bloodshot veins bulge in his eyes.
“...You... worthless scum...!”
He doesn't know how he suddenly got this strong.
But the Pontiff is watching. He can't show this disgrace.
With that thought, the divine letters around him flare brighter. First, amplify regeneration.
Bones snap back into place in seconds, breathing stabilizes, vitality floods his body.
Then he shifts all his blessings to one attribute.
‘...Never thought I'd have to use even this!’
White flames erupt along his sword.
One of the attack 'miracles' usable only by elite combat priests.
“Ether Flame?”
An incredulous voice comes from across the stage.
“Hey, that's only useful for big monsters or what...”
Truth is, this has no business in a simple student duel.
Heavenly flames that never extinguish until the victim dies or the caster wills it.
Among miracles boasting dozens of times the power of blessings, this one's infamous for its brutality.
But.
“As long as it doesn't kill you!”
The sword wreathed in white flame shoots toward Dawood like an arrow.
The goal isn't death—just inflict agony. Burn him alive until he begs for mercy.
That's what he thought.
“Hm.”
Right up until Dawood shrugs and casually throws a punch from where he stands.
And with just that motion.
The wind from his fist snuffs out the flames in an instant.
“...”
Klein gapes at his sword.
A veteran fighter like him should never lose focus mid-battle like this.
If anything, this is worse than tumbling back spitting blood earlier.
Something he absolutely can't let the Pontiff see.
But right now, he's too shocked to care.
The attack miracle from an elite combat priest like him.
Snuffed out like a candle in the wind.
“...Huh. So matchup superiority means this. Nice.”
“You, you, what the hell are...!”
He blurts it out in horrified disbelief at his opponent's casual remark, but before he finishes, another fist slams into his jaw.
All blessings shatter again, consciousness blurring.
“Guh...!”
More blows rain on his airborne body.
One to the exposed gut. A knee into his face as he doubles over. A straight punch like a hammer to his thrown-back head.
“Guh, heuk...!”
All he can do is scream in pain as the hits land.
No technique whatsoever. Just like some amateur brawler.
But he can't cope. Can't even react.
He's already shifted all blessings to regeneration—even lethal wounds heal. Yet the damage outpaces healing by miles. Even as the opponent throws lazy jabs.
That's how vast the power gap is!
“Oh, right.”
Dawood smirks as he speaks.
“You said as long as it doesn't kill you?”
-!
-!!
The pain continues.
Nasal bones shatter completely. Crimson blood sprays everywhere. A following kick smashes his head into a nearby wall, cracks spiderwebbing out.
‘He's... toying with me...!’
He could've been put down ages ago.
The gap is that overwhelming.
This isn't a fight.
The guy's crushing him like a bug!
“S-Stop...!”
Another hit.
Freshly regenerated teeth shatter again, scattering everywhere.
One more.
A gut punch brings up a clot from his esophagus.
And it keeps coming. Blow after blow.
Blood pools across the stage. Hit after hit after hit.
Finally, unable to endure, he screams.
“Stop, stop! I was wrong! Please, just stop...!”
His will to fight is long gone. The Pontiff watching is secondary.
Just escaping this shredding agony is priority!
At his pride-shattering scream, Dawood pauses.
“...!”
Maybe he'll actually stop. Klein looks up with faint hope.
And.
Chills race up his spine.
His opponent's eyes hold nothing.
Swinging this ferocious violence with calm detachment.
Like it's just a 'job.'
“Hm.”
Just.
Inflicting this much pain on an 'enemy' he deems worthy of it.
The next words match perfectly.
Still in that flat tone.
“No.”
The fist flying at his face is the last thing he remembers.
●
Wrong my ass.
If that's how you felt, don't torture people alive from the start.
“...”
“...”
I glance at Klein, slumped after the final punch, then scan the surroundings.
Dead silence hangs heavy.
Part of it from an academy student dismantling an elite combat priest without a fight.
But mostly from the power I just used.
Anyone here would recognize it.
The 'demon energy' I summoned.
‘No shock would be weirder.’
I manifested the Gray Devil's authority—the strongest among demons—for a brief moment.
By lore, countless groups are salivating over this power.
So of course they're stunned that unexpected me is wielding it.
And unlike normal vessels, I'm not rampaging or losing my mind—reason intact.
Unprecedented in history.
‘...That's 'cause I'm no true vessel.’
Just faking it. A real vessel handling true demon energy would see this as child's play. This glimpse is all I can manage.
But I've successfully planted the image in everyone's mind: a human who can rationally control demonic power.
That alone changes my standing completely.
“...”
Sad truth is.
What Atalante called 'support from the hegemonic nations'? It's just help to function as a vessel manager—disposable tool. Not full backing.
They acknowledge my 'utility,' not my 'value.'
But what I just showed here?
Changes everything ahead.
“...”
How much?
Enough for this.
“Urk... blegh...”
I grab Klein by the collar as he mumbles meaningless words and haul him up.
Drag him along.
Then hurl him toward a section of the audience.
-!
As Klein's body sails through the air, a faint scream rises from the seats.
But no one collides with him.
A 'divine barrier' manifests in midair, blocking his path.
“...What is the meaning of this?”
Pope Credo Baor II.
The current Pontiff, who would've taken the hit if not for the barrier, speaks in a voice devoid of inflection.
“Can’t you tell, Your Holiness?”
I grin as I continue.
“I’m picking a fight with you right now.”
Every mouth in the vicinity drops open.
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