Chapter 80
Chapter 80
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 80
Chapter Title: Rage (1)
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The sight of Ivan Pons, madly charging on a colossal, ironclad black warhorse, was more than enough to instill fear in any ordinary person.
“You bastard—!”
A ferocious black sword aura billowed from his massive greatsword.
I was close enough to identify him clearly without even needing to enhance my vision.
Just then, a soldier before me collapsed, spitting out motes of light.
Among them, the red mote caught my eye.
“Perfect.”
Even when my Strength reached 101, the feeling was indescribable.
But what kind of power would a Strength of 102 grant me?
It was only a difference of one point, but the result would surely be something that couldn't be expressed by a mere ‘one.’
[Strength has increased by 1.]
Vitality surged through my entire body. Spiritual Power circulated fiercely within me.
Faster, and faster.
“Kuaaaargh—”
A sudden pain wracked my body—an agonizing sensation I had never felt before.
My muscles began to convulse wildly, and my entire body flushed red.
“Kratos—!”
From the ramparts, Seamus’s shout was followed by a downpour of holy power, but no matter how much of it washed over me or how much I screamed, the pain wouldn't subside.
“Just—leave me be—!”
I roared with all my might. If they opened that gate now, it would all be for nothing. They had to hold out a little longer inside and thin out the enemy's numbers.
Their numbers had dwindled, but they still outnumbered us by more than two to one.
The foundation of all combat is to minimize your own losses while maximizing the enemy's.
Time around me began to slow. The din of the battlefield, the voices—everything stretched out endlessly like a warped tape.
The muscles all over my body swelled grotesquely. If I didn't do something right now, I felt like they would burst.
And then, I saw Ivan Pons.
I gasped for air. Every breath I took sent a twisting pain surging through me, tormenting me.
“Huu— Hu—”
As I drew my hand back into a fist, a grinding sound, like mismatched gears turning, echoed from my body.
“Grrrk—!”
I gritted my teeth and threw the punch.
Very slowly. Like a simple straight punch. Without conscious thought.
*Boom—*
I had merely extended my fist. So slowly that anyone could have dodged it.
But the result was anything but ordinary.
Blood, hide, and flesh exploded before my eyes, and beyond the gore, I could clearly see the bewildered expression on Ivan Pons's face.
“Huu… huu… huu.”
I caught my breath.
The head and neck of Ivan Pons’s warhorse had simply exploded, as if hit by a bomb.
With a single punch.
Steam was rising from my knuckles.
The pain finally began to subside as the remains of the obliterated warhorse splattered to the ground.
The battlefield was silent.
The same battlefield that should have been clamorous with the clash of cold steel, shouts, and all manner of noise.
It had all happened in an instant.
“In... insane!”
A single punch had blown the horse's head off. No, to be precise, it had also obliterated the upper bodies of the knights and soldiers nearby.
Nearly ten people had died from that one punch.
“Just what in the world... are you...!?”
If Ivan Pons hadn't hastily raised his sword to block, he too would have suffered considerable injuries.
That one blow had been that powerful.
It was a punch that no one would think a human could deliver.
Blood trickled from the hand that had blocked the punch, and his beloved sword, his companion for over a decade, was chipped and shedding metal filings as if it had reached its limit.
The parts of his armor he couldn't protect were clearly marked with scrapes.
“Hoo. That was incredible.”
The feeling was absolutely amazing. It felt like I could do anything in the world.
“Attack—! Give them everything you've got—!”
A momentary lull. Gleb was the first to snap out of it.
Gleb and the priests unleashed a barrage of attacks from atop the palisade on the frozen soldiers, and the battle resumed.
Amidst the fierce battle.
I stood facing Ivan Pons at eye level.
His armored warhorse, a symbol of his status, was now nothing but a pile of gore.
He tossed aside his chipped sword and drew a secondary weapon from his saddle.
“You...!”
“Wait, stop—! No ‘I won't let you get away with this’ or ‘I'll tear you to pieces.’ We're both here to kill each other, after all. What's the point of getting all dramatic about how you're going to do it?”
I kicked off the ground and rushed him.
I swung my hammer down, and he raised his sword to block. But the force must have been greater than he expected, as he deflected the hammer and threw a punch filled with demonic energy at my chest.
I slapped the side of his fist with my other hand to change its trajectory, then summoned my crowbar and swung it at his side.
“You... you use strange techniques.”
Every one of his punches holds extraordinary power. He doesn't wield demonic energy or aura, yet he possesses such strength.
I've never encountered such power in my entire life.
“Who are you? Where in the world did you come from?”
I tilted my head at Ivan Pons’s question.
“Huh? No way. Well... this is interesting.”
A grin spread across my face. He's from the Central Intelligence Bureau; there's no way he wouldn't know my identity.
Of course, I've hidden my face many times, so he might not know who I am. But purifying demonic energy isn't something you can hide.
At the very least, information about events within the Demonic Realm should be shared.
And he's the one who came in Ludwig's place.
Besides, the ability to purify demonic energy is hardly trivial information.
“Of course. That bastard Ludwig wouldn't have handed everything over so easily.”
He's far too cunning for that. He's not the type to give Ivan Pons everything on a silver platter.
In other words, they haven't completely united yet. They're checking each other, hindering each other, trying to devour one another.
So, the Emperor has made himself a god. He has ascended to a position above all others.
Then what about those below him? It's only natural they'd be clawing at each other to get even a little closer to that supreme position, isn't it?
A self-proclaimed god wouldn't bother coordinating or caring about such things.
Someone has to seize full authority and wield it.
“Well, it feels a bit off to be taking out one of his rivals for him, but the prey is just too tempting.”
“Who are you calling prey?!”
But this time, Ludwig Brandt has definitely made a mistake. A fatal one.
***
Dozens of exchanges had passed. That damned gray energy. It was clearly anathema to his own.
His demonic energy couldn't exert its full power whenever it clashed with that aura.
His armor was already dented and cracked from the man's punches.
It was a clear stalemate. He wondered if the man was a Sword Master, but that didn't seem quite right.
He was strong, yes, but the rank of Sword Master wasn't something one could attain simply by being strong.
Of course, his opponent wasn't unscathed either, but this was a matter of pride.
“But why in the hell!”
His badly chipped sword swung toward the man's head.
*Clang—*
That damned crowbar. The moment his sword was blocked by it, a hammer came swinging at him.
“Keuk—!”
The hammer only grazed his side, but the impact was immense.
Since he had risen to this position—no, since he had accepted demonic energy—had he ever fought someone on equal footing like this?
Never. Not once. Even when facing dozens of knights at once, he had always held the upper hand.
The position of Sword Master wasn't something won by a gamble. It signified immense martial power.
But fighting on par with some brat who wasn't even a Sword Master had already wounded his pride beyond measure.
“A mere mercenary scum.”
“For a ‘mere mercenary scum,’ our current positions are a bit telling, don't you think?”
Anyone could see Kratos was the one pinning Ivan Pons down from above.
“You haven't changed one bit. That's why you were never favored.”
“What are you talking about?!”
As if that had touched a nerve, Ivan Pons shouted in agitation.
“The reason Prometheus never favored you. You lack moderation. You treat your soldiers and knights like consumables. What kind of commander would ever promote someone like you?”
“Who... are you.”
“What good is completing the mission when dozens, hundreds, thousands of soldiers, knights, and mages died for it?”
“Don't you dare speak so recklessly!”
As Kratos continued to prod him, demonic energy began to swirl around Ivan Pons.
“And then you strutted around, proud of your success. And with that record, you became Commander-in-Chief as soon as Prometheus died? A passing dog would laugh. Since you couldn't even be the tail of a dragon, you decided to be the head of a snake, is that it, Ivan Pons? You fool. The head of a snake can't even keep up with a dragon's tail.”
“You...! How do you know those words.”
Not even the tail of a dragon, but the head of a snake.
Those were the words Prometheus had spoken to him. The day he had succeeded in his mission, but the majority of his subordinates had died.
On that rainy day.
He had said it in front of the cemetery where they all lay, as if reprimanding him. As if he knew everything.
“Was that wrong? It is only natural for a soldier to lay down his life for the success of a mission.”
“Sure, that can be true. But you're a man who cherishes his own life far too much. That day, didn't you push your men into a death trap while preparing to flee from the rear? Did you think I wouldn't know?”
“Prometheus! Did you hear that from him?!”
How in the world does this man know that? He thought no one knew.
“That's why I never appointed you Commander-in-Chief. No! Appointing a commander who pushes his men to their deaths to such a position would be madness!”
However, the problem was that the front lines had expanded so much back then that we were desperate enough to borrow even a cat's paw.
And I didn't have complete control over all appointments. That's why I had no choice but to entrust some fronts to him.
His ‘successes’ were the perfect playing card for the nobles who sought to keep me in check.
“I knew everything. What kind of commander you were. How you fought your battles. You pushed your soldiers to their deaths while you only appeared on battlefields where victory was certain, hoarding all the glory for yourself, didn't you?”
“What do you mean...”
“And I buried every single one of them myself. I thought it was a burden I had to bear for putting you in that position and sending you on those missions!”
He trembled as if his deepest shame had been exposed.
“I will chew on every last one of your bones.”
As he spoke, flames and smoke erupted from his mouth.
His body began to swell strangely. No, it was more like his body was becoming more muscular.
The crimson-black demonic energy erupting from his body exploded outward, drenching the earth.
Those words had struck Ivan Pons's deepest nerve. A nerve no one should ever have touched.
The priests urgently unleashed their holy power to block his demonic energy, and the soldiers, who had been losing morale and falling back, suddenly charged the palisade with renewed vigor, their eyes glazed over as if they'd been drugged.
“Do you think I'd believe the words of a traitor! I am Ivan Pons, Sword Master and Commander-in-Chief of the Empire!”
“If you die, do you really think no one can replace you?”
Absolutely not. Someone will seize his position. Someone with a similar nature.
“That... cannot happen. Never! How hard I worked to get this position! I will never let another take it!”
Ivan Pons unleashed his fury.
His voice took on a resonant quality. A lump sprouted on his forehead, growing larger and larger.
Like a horn.
His body continued to expand until his armor could no longer contain it, shattering and falling away.
And for a moment, I saw a glimpse of red skin.
The crimson-black demonic energy began to saturate the land.
“Brother—! The Demonic Energy of Rage! It's Rage itself!”
Gleb's urgent voice came from the ramparts.
Meanwhile, Ivan Pons continued to grow until I had to crane my neck to look up at him.
A thick, red demonic energy began to seep across the land like a viscous fog.
“Who—dares—covet—my—position—!”
He had long since lost his human form. This was no clumsy test subject like the ones I saw in Granok's lab.
This was the very image of a demon, something I had only seen in pictures.
“Oh, heavens. My God...”
Gleb's despairing voice echoed as he took in Ivan Pons's form. When was the last time a demon had been summoned to this continent?
But now, that very demon had appeared before his eyes.
And it was inhabiting the body of a powerful man named Ivan Pons.
“I—am—Rage.”
At that sight, I let out a dry laugh.
“Well, I thought I was fighting a human. Guess I was wrong.”