Siruntel Demonic Realm (7)
Elprime Academy.
Tower of Illusions, Chamber One.
Roughly thirty minutes after the incident.
Fzzzt!
Space warped, and a middle-aged man and a white-haired elder appeared in midair.
"Uncle, this way."
The Dean of Elprime Academy, Alcyon Serzef.
"Hrmm…"
And one of the Empire's Great Magicians, Jenion Serzef.
He narrowed his eyes and surveyed the surroundings as he spoke.
"…In all my years, I never thought I'd live to see the Tower of Illusions break down."
The first malfunction ever to strike a structure that had stood for centuries.
Jenion was faintly exhilarated at the prospect of hunting down that flaw. A magician's innate curiosity and hunger for discovery had kicked in.
Sensing his uncle's mood, Alcyon hastily added,
"Uncle. First you need to track the cadets' locations."
"…Hmm? Ah, right. Princess Esabel and the ducal houses' children got swept up in this too, didn't they?"
Jenion chuckled as he walked deeper into the training chamber.
"My nephew worries too much."
Even if they were first-year freshmen here, eighteen meant they were fully grown adults. Every last one of them had already broken through the Expert wall. Even if they'd dropped onto the peak of Mount Chesar, they could stroll back down like it was a leisurely walk, couldn't they?
Reassuring the fretting Alcyon, Jenion spoke with easy calm.
Then the Great Magician spread both arms wide, closed his eyes, and began tracing the flow of mana.
But—
"…"
As the seconds ticked by, his brow furrowed deeper and deeper.
Drip.
A bead of cold sweat rolled down his forehead.
Five minutes later.
"Th-This…!"
Jenion cried out, his face drained white.
"Contact the Helbridge family at once! Hurry!"
"?"
Alcyon's brows tilted. The Helbridge family in the western Empire, out of nowhere?
Wait.
West… the west…?
"…!"
A headline from a few days ago's morning paper flashed through Alcyon's mind, and his eyes flew wide enough to tear.
"It can't be…?!"
Praying his guess was wrong, he looked desperately at Jenion—
"Yes. Exactly that 'it can't be'!"
Jenion was already nodding.
"Siruntel Demonic Realm. Every last one of them fell there!"
"Leon."
"What."
"Where are we going?"
From Leon's back, Celia watched him tear forward without the slightest hesitation and voiced her doubt. This was clearly a place he'd never set foot in before—yet every stride carried absolute conviction.
"Keep going this way and the Class J kids will turn up. We join them, then we get the hell out of here."
Even while racing like the wind itself, Leon explained without a single breath out of place.
"Oh, Class J would definitely— Cough!"
Celia's words cut off in a sudden fit of coughing.
"Hack— cough!"
A metallic stench stabbed into her nose. Warmth spread across his shoulder.
Leon turned his head, and his face went rigid.
"…Hang on a little longer."
Celia, who had coughed blood onto Leon's shoulder, managed a strained smile.
"Sorry."
Sorry for dirtying him with blood. Sorry for being dead weight who couldn't help at all. Or sorry for making him suffer because of her. Muttering that ambiguous apology, she buried her face deeper against the nape of his neck.
"…"
Leon licked his parched lips.
Her breathing was growing thinner by the second. Her voice was losing strength. And from her dantian and circuits, he could feel a mana flow that was thoroughly wrecked.
The bleeding had more or less stopped, but—
The internal injuries are too severe.
From forcibly overdrawing her mana and the damage that had kept piling up, Celia's internal wounds had reached a critical level. At this rate she was in real danger. Even staying conscious right now was pure superhuman willpower.
If Leon had been a Master-rank martial artist, he could have reached into her body himself and realigned the flow of her mana. But he hadn't even hit upper Expert yet. Clumsily meddling would only make things worse.
There wasn't much time left. Keep going like this and she might never use her dantian again for the rest of her life—or worse, end up crippled, or dead.
No. For a martial artist, losing the use of one's dantian was barely any different from dying. Especially for someone as proud and lofty as Celia.
"Celia. You can't fall asleep."
"Mm…"
Not wanting to watch his friend become a cripple, Leon raced through the demonic realm with crimson eyes blazing.
About ten minutes passed that way.
Corpses of demonic beasts that Class J had beaten down started to appear—bodies burst and shattered by fists and feet. Unmistakable traces of martial artists.
Slash!
Leon cut down a charging beast in a single stroke, adding one more corpse to the pile.
Celia, clinging to his back, murmured in faint admiration.
"Leon… when did you get this strong again?"
A voice that had dwindled nearly to a whisper, drained of all strength. Leon scolded her for wasting energy on useless talk.
"Don't open your mouth."
"…"
Just as Celia pouted—
"…!"
Leon's eyes flew wide and he hurled himself hard forward.
BOOOOM!!!
The ground where he'd been standing caved in. Dirt and debris billowed upward in a choking cloud.
"Hoh…"
The culprit behind that terrifying strike—a demon with two horns crowning his head—brushed the dirt from his hand and let out an intrigued hum.
"Not bad for a human."
"Looks like this one's the owner of those corpses on the cliff earlier."
Glaring at the two of them as they chatted so casually, Leon's face twisted into a scowl.
"What the fuck. Why are demons showing up?"
Even as thick bewilderment hit him, he edged backward step by careful step and propped Celia against a tree behind him. These were not opponents he could fight while carrying someone.
Just facing them head-on, dense demonic energy made his skin crawl. Their solid frames and stances felt like staring down massive boulders. The killing intent rolling off them was cruel and merciless.
Leon toyed with his sword hilt and tried talking.
"Hey. What business brings you here?"
According to the original story, Mazias's subordinates should have been the ones roaming this place. But Mazias had been torn apart by Bergopf's sword—so the demons here had to be from some other faction. Leon, who'd been casually expecting nothing worse than demonic beasts, was thoroughly rattled.
"…Hmm?"
As if mildly interested in a talking animal, the demons snorted at his question—yet answered anyway. It didn't matter what you said to someone who was going to die. Treating the mission like a bit of sport, they felt like toying with the young human a little.
"We came to hunt humans on the Great Devil's orders."
"…Great Devil?"
Leon's expression soured badly. Having never even finished half the original novel, Great Devils were thoroughly unfamiliar territory. Final-boss types that only showed up in the late game had no business appearing in the early-to-mid stretch.
Shit. I should've read ahead instead of saving it for later.
Lamenting his past life's reading habits, Leon dug for more information.
"Which Great Devil? I know there are seven."
"…For a lowly human, you're full of questions. It is Lord Valcansus, the Great Devil of Wrath. Of course a maggot like you isn't even fit to speak His name."
"Valcansus? Why's that guy suddenly throwing a fit around here?"
"Why, you maggot—!"
At Leon's flippant tone the demon's temper flared for an instant—then cooled just as fast. No one wasted real anger on a bug.
"Gruzer. Enough talk. …Seems this human isn't the only one here."
"Fine by me."
Gruzer looked past Leon and licked his lips. He'd sensed the presence of the Class J cadets.
"…Leon."
A frail voice, barely more than a moan, slipped out. Leon answered without taking his eyes off the enemy.
"What?"
"What do you mean what—! Run! Now!"
Celia forced the words out through the pain, shouting with every scrap of strength she had left. These things were on a completely different level from the demonic beasts they'd been cutting down so easily. They'd been raised from birth in environments harsher than even this demonic realm—and from their own mouths, they served a Great Devil. Even at full strength, victory wasn't guaranteed. So abandon her. Right now. And run.
Her face twisted in agony, Celia pleaded with everything she had. She was useless like this. Fighting would only add one more corpse to the pile. The idea of Leon dying just for her sake was unthinkable.
"Leon, forget about me! Hurry—!"
If the man who'd run all this way to save her came to harm now, she felt she would never close her eyes in peace—even in death.
But—
"Celia."
The voice that spoke her name carried a thread of laughter. Still leveling his sword at the enemy, he showed no intention of taking even a single step back.
"…?"
Leon spat out his cigarette butt and went on.
"Keep this a secret for me, yeah?"
"…Keep what?"
No answer came.
The demons shrugged, clenched their fists, and started toward him.
"Boring. Die already."
"It was somewhat entertaining."
The little farce between those two was over. Time for them to vanish from sight.
"I don't know about that."
At the ones closing in with indifferent faces, Leon sent a deep, crooked sneer—
And moved his sword.
Crusif Family — Forbidden
Jecheon Sword Style · Dark Form
⟨ Cheonjusu-sik ⟩
And then—
As the sun was swallowed by darkness,
the sky dyed itself black.