Siruntel Demonic Realm (10)
"Lady Riana."
A low voice settled over the girl. In an instant her gaze turned ice-cold and razor-sharp, and Riana felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
"Is that true?"
"I—it hasn't been properly verified yet. It's only a rumor for now, so—"
Crack!
Before Riana could finish, Aria gathered her mana and vanished, leaping through space itself.
"…"
Left alone in the corridor, Riana stood stunned. The sheer skill required to cast Blink—one of the highest-difficulty spells among all Fourth Circle magic—as casually as breathing… and that last expression Aria had worn, a look of urgency Riana had never once imagined on her face… All of it tangled together in her mind with the shocking rumor that their friends had been transferred from the Tower of Illusions into a Demonic Realm.
"Th-they'll be all right… right?"
Riana could only clench her fists and tremble.
"Get them out of here!"
"Yes, young master!"
Aqua cast a single glance at his little sister, bloodied and battered as the knights carried her away, and at the black-haired boy who looked no less wounded. Then he leveled his long spear at Talkan and spat the words with pure hatred.
"So the scum of the Demon Realm crawled all the way out here."
"…"
"A high-ranking demon doesn't show up somewhere like this out of boredom. Whose dog are you? Cryptos? Berzetel? Grault?"
Talkan's torn upper body had already regenerated. He fixed both eyes squarely on Aqua.
"Human. Strong."
"Ha…"
A scornful sigh. Contempt and loathing settled in Aqua's indigo eyes.
"You're just an idiot."
"HUMAN!! STRONG!!!!!"
With a madman's roar, Talkan's already massive frame began to swell even further.
Fwoooosh!
His body ballooned to twice, three times, four times its size, belching steam and heat with every surge. The exponentially mounting presence and demonic energy sent violent ripples shuddering through the air itself. At last Talkan stood as a giant well over seven meters tall.
Boom!
He kicked off the ground and charged Aqua.
Whoooosh!
As he closed in, crushing speed and pressure crashed down on Aqua. The raw strength and agility born of that monstrous physique were weapons in their own right—power enough to split boulders without the slightest technique or craft.
Perhaps that was why Talkan, leaping high into the air with his right hand splayed wide to smash downward, was so certain. No matter how strong that tiny human might be, he could never withstand force like this.
But—
"…Barbaric. Primitive."
Like a still lake, Aqua regarded him with eyes of perfect calm.
"And they call something like you a high-ranking demon."
The grip on his spear shifted by a fraction. The angle of the blade twisted with exquisite precision. With a single small inhale, terrifying mana condensed at his fingertips.
"How are you any different from a magical beast that's just a little stronger than the rest?"
A faint tremor ran through the tip of his spear.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
Still suspended in midair, fist-sized holes punched clean through Talkan's arms, legs, abdomen, chest, and throat.
"…!!!"
Talkan's eyes flew wide as he realized—too late—that half his body was simply gone. Eight thrusts driven home before he could even perceive them. The sequence had been so impossibly fast that all Talkan had seen was the spear tremble.
Thud!!
In the end, the reverse of his swaggering charge: nothing hit the ground but Talkan's head, his body reduced entirely to dust. No matter how formidable a demon's regeneration might be, a head alone could not survive.
Feeling his life gutter out, Talkan forced out the single word that rose in his fading mind.
"Ma…ster."
Aqua set his foot on the head and snorted.
"Not complete trash, then."
Crunch!
Master. Martial artists who had reached the true realm of the superhuman. It meant they had attained complete mastery of one or more weapons—that they had honed their arts and techniques to the absolute limit. Against them, clumsy enemies who relied on nothing but brute force and speed were meaningless, even if they came in the hundreds.
Strike Force, Thirteenth Squad.
Squad member Galok was thoroughly confused.
Boom! Boom! Crack!
A single punch from him ruptured the earth. A single kick detonated the air. And yet—
"Why, why, why!"
"…"
—he still could not catch the one boy standing against him.
Whoosh! Swish! Crash!!
His fellow squad member Chelgri was no better off.
"Damn it all…!"
His face was twisted into something hideous. One of his horns—more precious to a demon than anything else—had been sheared clean off. And by these pathetic little humans, no less.
This fight should have been over long ago. By now they ought to have been drinking human blood and tearing into human flesh.
"Carotin, behind you!"
The silver-haired girl swinging that heavy sword was fine.
"Got it, Esabel!"
The red-haired boy charging in like a wild beast was fine.
"Hah!"
"Over here!"
"Take this!"
Even the other humans—weak as insects, rushing in without knowing their place—were fine.
But—
Slashhh!
"Grrraaagh!!"
—that golden-haired boy who looked like the world's most spoiled rake was single-handedly turning the tide.
What the hell is he?
It made no sense. It was incomprehensible. It was unacceptable.
Compared to a frail human body, a demon's physique was heaven and earth apart. The faster, stronger fighter won—that was simple common sense. It had been true when Chelgri first fought magical beasts as a child. It had been true when he brawled with other demons. It had been true when he proved himself worthy of Valcansus's Strike Force.
Greater strength crushed lesser strength. Greater speed shattered slower speed. That was the truth, and Chelgri had verified it time and again with his natural physical gifts.
Technique?
Sure, there were demons in the Demon Realm who spouted that nonsense. And every last one of them had been beaten senseless and crushed under his fists. In the end, technique was worthless before superior power.
Yes. That was how it had always been. And yet—
"Ghhhk!"
Whoom! Whoosh! Swish!
—watching that fragile-looking brat hold his ground, the belief was shattering into dust.
"…"
Billy caught the punches flying from Chelgri and Galok on his blade and thought,
All that power, and this is the best they can do with it.
It was simply pathetic. Drunk on strength and speed, they had never bothered to refine their technique. How were they any different from beasts?
There was no principle, no deeper truth in the fists and kicks they threw. Their trajectories were so crude they almost invited laughter. They possessed great power, yet had never learned how to put that power where it counted. They possessed great speed, yet speed they could not control was worse than none at all.
Inefficient. Crude. Clumsy. Movements that called to mind nothing so much as alley thugs brawling in the dirt.
"…"
Drawing on every insight he had gained, Billy moved his sword.
Strength is overcome by softness.
Like a fluttering butterfly. Like petals scattered on a spring breeze. His blade traced elegant curves and let the enemy's attacks slide harmlessly past.
Speed is answered by precision.
Before the demons could even complete a strike, Billy's sword was already there, cutting it off.
Hardness is pierced by sharpness.
Shiiing!
A sword-stroke like a bolt of light burst blood from Galok's shoulder. An instant later a blade-scar carved itself across Chelgri's wide-eyed chest.
What enemy could possibly stand?
Billy's eyes went hazy and unfocused.
Hnnnnnnnng!
As the sword aura blazing along his blade deepened another shade—
"…!!"
—Galok, Chelgri, Esabel, Carotin, Kiana, Theron, and the forty-odd cadets behind them all forgot the ferocious battle they had been fighting. Everyone present froze as one and stared at him.
In that instant, a vast wave of presence and pressure erupted from Billy. The Class A cadets recognized it at once.
No-Mind.
Billy was in the same state Leon had entered weeks ago, the moment he stepped into the mid ranks of Expert.
A chill ran through both demons. Instinct screamed that they must not face this man now.
—Hah.
A thin breath slipped from Billy's lips. The instant his unfocused pupils turned toward the demons—
KRA-KOOM! BOOOOM!
—two spears came screaming out of nowhere, punching clean through both demons from end to end.
"…!"
Severing upper body from lower body in a single clean stroke.
"Good. We made it in time."
"Whew~! Is everyone all right?"
Following the spears' trajectory, the cadets saw two men approaching with easy, cheerful grins. Someone spotted the emblem on their left breasts—a square-antlered stag crossed over a pair of spears—and cried out.
"W-wait! Helbridge…?"
"Haha, that's right."
They were the second son of the Helbridge family, Lotea Helbridge, and the third son, Prua Helbridge.
Esabel's face lit up as she went to meet them.
"You've finally arrived."
"Ah! Your Highness the Imperial Princess."
"Your Highness."
"There's no need for such formality."
"Brothers! You got here at the perfect moment!"
"Well, if it isn't little Carotin!"
"Is this all the support we've got? We've got quite a few wounded on our side."
"Ah—our family's knight order is right behind us. They should be here any moment."
"That's a relief."
"By the way… you haven't seen our little sister, have you…?"
"Oh, Second Brother! Big Brother was just looking for her!"
While Esabel and the Helbridge brothers talked, and the cadets erupted into noisy cheers of relief—
"…"
Shiiing.
His enemies gone in an instant, Billy slipped free of his trance and quietly sheathed his sword.
I felt like I was about to grasp something. A shame.