Chapter 64
Chapter 64
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: Monster Beast King
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“Harma El?!”
Yurinel. The chosen hero made a bizarre face upon seeing the woman who had blocked his sword. Why had this woman appeared here of all places? Could it be that Harma El had joined forces with the Flesh Underground Castle?
“This is our first time meeting like this, isn’t it? Yes, I am Harma El herself.”
Like a venomous serpent laden with poison, the Demon Killer shot forth from behind.
Harma El lightly dodged it and leaped away, putting distance between them. The hero party’s expressions turned strange as they watched her simply smile without attacking. What on earth was this woman scheming?
Had she not come to fight? Had the esteemed Demon Empress left her imperial palace just to chat with them? If Harma El were the type to waste time like that, she never would have built her own empire. The hero party did not underestimate Harma El.
“Why don’t you bow and pay your respects? Like, ‘Your Majesty.’”
“Enough with the pointless provocations. If you’ve come, get to the point.”
Lucia let her whip hang loose as she retorted.
“If you want to fight, we’ll fight. If you’ve come to talk, we’ll talk. If you want to beg, we’ll hear you out. Your Majesty, may these lowly ones dare ask? May we wrap our whips around your neck and snap it?”
“Such insolent lot, as always. But you won’t have much time left to act so bold.”
Harma El brushed it off with a laugh. In the end, power came from strength.
The hero party didn’t find her arrogance grating precisely because she had the strength she claimed. If they were mere weaklings acting tough, she would have crushed them already.
“Soon enough, all of you will kneel before me and beg, ‘Your Majesty, please spare our lives.’”
“We acknowledge your strength. None of us could beat you alone.”
Pannel scoffed. Harma El coming here alone was a crisis, but also an opportunity. The hero party had the skill to seize that chance—in spades.
“But we’re not alone, while you are. Even if you had powerful demons from the demon realm at your side, it’d be one thing, but why come alone? Do we look that easy to you?”
If Harma El had brought demon realm powerhouses, they would have had to stay on guard.
But now that she had come alone, the story changed. The hero party had no intention of avoiding the clash. It wasn’t a battle without odds of victory—quite the opposite; the stage favored them.
What was a hero? Fundamentally, an assassin.
It was just that their assassinations usually involved killing all witnesses, but at their core, heroes existed to pinpoint and eliminate key demon figures before vanishing.
If they killed only the Demon Empress Harma El, the demons would fracture into warring tribes once more, posing no threat to anyone. The continent would return to peace, and it would all be credited to the hero party, certified by the saintess.
Why would the hero party pass up such a golden opportunity? Even if Harma El claimed she had come to talk, they had to strike first.
Even Lrehnhim and Araidel, whose bodies were in no state to fight from the poison, kept their mouths shut. Their thinking was simple: even if they died, killing Harma El would be far better for the goddess.
Gulp.
Lrehnhim, steeling herself for death and drinking what might be her last sip of water, nearly spat it out. The moment it touched her tongue, the lingering metallic taste vanished, replaced by a refreshing, cool, even sweet flavor.
Confirming the sensation returning to her tongue, gums, and mouth, Lrehnhim’s expression changed completely. Only then did she realize this water came from the revitalizing spring, and convulsions twisted her face.
The spring, severed from Kyle’s connection, had ultimately dried up and vanished, but the last few vials of holy water from it had saved her from the Hydra’s poison. Without another thought, Lrehnhim rushed to the saintess and pressed the vial to her resolute lips.
“Wh-what is it? What are you trying to make me drink... Mmph!”
To this archbishop—who was like an older sister she trusted and relied on most—the saintess couldn’t even think to resist and had no choice but to swallow. But once she did, she immediately understood why Lrehnhim had done it.
A refreshing energy enveloped her body, sweeping away every negative effect.
She drank faster and faster, until the vial was empty. It was as if the water had swept the fog from her mind, clearing her head and refreshing her body.
“This water comes from the spring that priest Kyle—who was with the hero party—created.”
Lrehnhim whispered into the dazed saintess’s ear.
Even as she did, her eyes clearly glared at Harma El, who was trading barbs with the hero party.
“For that priest to cure even Hydra poison! I can’t imagine what the idiots in the church who handled him were doing with their eyes open.”
If she returned to the church alive, there would be more people to reprimand.
Kyle had come to the church of his own accord, but none of the countless priests of the Triad Church had seen through his true nature. So he had walked out on his own two feet, and now even his whereabouts were unknown.
Those who had vetted him back then had already concluded he served a minor god and issued their assessment accordingly, so the church took no action while he came and went.
Only later did they realize they had let a major figure slip away, but no one knew where Priest Kyle was or what he was doing now. Or more precisely, it was too late.
“Saintess. The last information I received said that priest was spotted in the empire’s small city of Larphentia. He’s left even there now, his trail gone cold.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“There’s a chance Harma El still has Hydra poison left.”
That oddly leisurely demeanor. Appearing here alone so boldly.
Lrehnhim found it suspicious. There had to be a reason for Harma El’s confidence.
“If you get poisoned again, start from Larphentia and track his whereabouts. Now that we know that priest of the ancient god can neutralize even Hydra poison—and since Harma El obtained it through some channel—we absolutely need him.”
Of course, Harma El had her reasons, and the Hydra poison was partly the source of her confidence.
But what she truly trusted was neither the Flesh Underground Castle, nor the Hydra poison, nor even her own power. Harma El tightened her grip on the orb in her left hand, shattering the black sphere.
“Sorry, but the one who’ll cross swords with you isn’t me.”
A streak of black light shot from the broken orb into the air. What it contained was a type of mana utterly unlike demonic energy. The moment that mana surged, dark clouds gathered in the sky, forming a massive gate of storm clouds that swung wide open.
Before anyone could react, a blazing fireball plummeted from the swiftly opened gate.
“Allow me to introduce you. The star of this stage isn’t me, it’s— What the hell is that?!”
Even Harma El recoiled in shock upon seeing it. Could that be Grimudo?
Another sun was born in the sky shrouded by black clouds. The scorching sun blazed hotter than midday, withering leaves and shriveling plants.
As it drew closer to the ground, it grew larger. What had looked like a coin swelled to the size of a house, then a palace.
When the blazing wheel—or ball—of fire crashed to the earth, a heatwave ravaged the world, turning the near-eight thousand corpse soldiers into charred husks that vanished from the surface. Even Albatross couldn’t muster anger this time.
“Wh-what is this? Is it the end of the world? Has doomsday come today...?”
Its overwhelming might far surpassed anything he could imagine, bordering on a natural disaster. No one rages at a volcano for erupting.
From the thick smoke and scorching winds of the horrific scene emerged a burning bird stretching its neck. Lucia Western screamed upon seeing it.
“The Immortal Monster Bird, Phoenix!”
Grimudo’s monster legion.
Among them, undoubtedly the strongest.
The sovereign of monsters—what could only be called the Monster Beast King—slowly revealed itself through the dust and smoke. It had plummeted to earth curled into a red orb.
Lucia shuddered at the sight of that blazing bird. She whipped her head toward Harma El and spat venomous words. That thing was the harbinger of ruin that had come for her family on the day House Western fell.
“Have you lost your mind...? Are you trying to kill us all? Do you even know what you’ve done? Grimudo isn’t something we can control or use!”
But no answer came.
Sizzle!
Swoosh.
The burning earth cooled bit by bit. The ground fires everywhere extinguished on their own.
Everything that survived instinctively looked up at the gate that hadn’t yet closed.
Mouths clamped shut, bodies trembled uncontrollably. Darkness proliferated, blanketing everything, ushering in a profound silence.
Even the intellectual Lrehnhim’s face paled with fear. Saintess Araidel shed tears.
Not from fear or a desire to cry.
‘Too... too strong. Perhaps even more than Mother...’
As one who could meet the goddess face-to-face, she despaired all the more.
The saintess had thought the goddess’s dignity and majesty unmatched in the world, but now, beholding this legendary being whose endless power she felt in her bones, her heart died.
‘This... this is a demon king? It’s more like...’
Even Lrehnhim, who should have comforted her, couldn’t utter a word. From the gate of darkness emerged a pitch-black inferno darker than the void itself.
The Phoenix, gazing upon its master, let out a clear cry from its beak in welcome. It waved a hand in response, unleashing gales across the surroundings.
Its mana was so potent that even the slightest movement rearranged the ambient mana. Harma El’s hand, holding the shattered orb, trembled. Only then did she realize Grimudo had been going easy on her—extremely so.
Killing her would require no stone beast Cockatrice.
One finger would suffice. Harma El said nothing, frozen like the dead.
“Gri... mudo.”
Only after a long while did the hero barely utter its name.
His voice trembled. But was it just his voice?
His sword hand shook violently. The nightmare he never wanted to see again had returned.
The primordial demon king had descended upon this place.
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