Chapter 67
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: The Ruler of Spirits
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People often describe a state of extreme happiness as “feeling like you’re flying.”
Or like you’re walking on clouds.
For creatures that couldn't fly, the sky was always an object of envy, a kind of mythical paradise.
I, too, used to think of the sky as such a pleasant place.
…Or so I thought.
“You crazy son of a bitch!”
The feeling of flying through the sky.
And not just flying, but flying through the sky on the back of a beautiful, enormous deer.
It was, in a word, the worst.
“Ha! It seems the great ‘Ruler of Spirits’ is more afraid of the sky than the transcendent being right before him?”
“Let me down, down! You crazy…!”
“…What is that.”
Just then, a Mazoku with pitch-black skin approached us from not too far away, flapping its wings. I was too disoriented to get a good look, but its wings were larger than a typical Mazoku’s, and its claws were long. It didn't seem like an ordinary demon.
“Hm?”
Dajin, busy teasing me as I screamed from his back, was late to notice the approaching Mazoku.
“…This situation is incomprehensible.”
The Mazoku muttered, gathering black light at its fingertips. It seemed to be the type to shoot magic first and ask questions later when faced with something it couldn't understand.
What a carefree way to live.
“You’re ruining the mood. Stop stinking up the place.”
*CRACK!*
A bolt of divine punishment pierced through the dark storm clouds and tore through the Mazoku’s body. A clap of thunder immediately followed, shaking the air around us.
…In a flash of light, the Mazoku’s body was erased from existence. It vanished without so much as a pile of ash, as if it had never been there in the first place.
“…”
I could feel the battlefield fall silent with that single clap of thunder.
The eyes of everyone down below naturally turned to me and Dajin.
“Ha! How was that? Aren’t I a pretty decent soldier?!”
Draw their attention.
Even Bel, who had given the order, surely hadn't expected me to draw this much attention.
An attention-grabbing power that far exceeded the commander’s expectations…!
“Haha, for fuck’s sake.”
What a fucking mess.
“Look, more are swarming in. The stench of decay is burning my nose.”
Just then, red light began to gather in the tiny dots I could see on the ground below. It seemed one of the high-ranking Mazoku had ordered an attack on me.
“Hey, is this okay—!”
*WHOOSH!*
Before I could finish my sentence, Dajin twisted his body in mid-air. The sudden change in trajectory nearly threw me off the damn deer’s back.
This bastard seems to think that just because he can ignore the laws of physics, I, the one riding him, am also exempt.
Think about inertia, you asshole! I’m really going to fall.
A red beam of light shot past my ear.
A hole was torn in the storm clouds above, revealing a faint glimmer of sunlight.
“I hate black magic. It smells foul.”
The Spirit of Lightning, now shining even brighter in the sunlight, cast a cold gaze toward the Mazoku who had dared to attack him.
“Don’t ruin my fun.”
Immediately, massive currents of electricity rained down from the storm clouds. Countless pillars of light slammed into the ground below, completely devastating the area.
Although he couldn't use his full power, was ill-mannered, and had a twisted personality, Dajin was still the Spirit of Lightning.
Turning those mid-to-low-level Mazoku into ash was nothing to him.
“…Hey, hey! Archer unit to the right!”
As I frantically scanned the ground for another barrage, my eyes caught a group of Mutants in worn-out armor. The monsters held massive longbows in their hands.
Mutants that used weapons were rare. A Mutant wielding a weapon meant it was created directly by an Overlord, and Mutants created by an Overlord were monsters of at least level 60.
In other words, they were a far greater threat than the previous low-level Mazoku.
“They’re coming! Move, you bastard! It might be nothing to you, but I’ll die if I get hit by that!”
There were at least forty to fifty archer Mutants.
For monsters well over level 60, hitting a target flying through the sky with no cover would be child’s play.
I couldn’t help but feel a chill run down my spine. I could see death speeding toward me from the distance. Arrowheads dripping with poison pierced through the mist, drawing a straight line for my neck.
A wide curtain of arrows surged up from below. The chill down my spine was now so cold it was starting to ache.
“Hmph.”
*CRACK!*
The next moment, electricity erupted from Dajin’s body and arced to one of the arrows, which then exploded into a massive fireball that spread in every direction. The arrows flying toward me were instantly reduced to cinders.
The acrid smell of smoke stung my nose.
Dajin didn't even glance at the arrows that had been aimed at us.
“This smell is at least bearable.”
The next moment, a massive thunderbolt once again struck the ground through the hole in the storm clouds. The level 60 archer unit was also turned into black ash before the pillar of light Dajin had summoned.
…I felt a little ashamed of myself for being so disappointed when he’d said he couldn't use his full power outside the Akilliptus Forest Zone.
‘A transcendent being is a transcendent being…’
“Still, it’s a stench all the same. The devil’s minions all use such disgusting magic. I simply can’t stand it.”
Dajin’s face contorted in annoyance as he began to roam the battlefield more aggressively. He unerringly found Mazoku hiding in the mud of the no-man's-land and turned them to ash, and he roasted a patchwork golem stitched together from several giant orcs.
Dajin whimsically soared high enough to touch the clouds, then dove low enough to graze the ground, over and over again.
Alternating between the smell of rotting corpses burning and the dampness of the storm clouds, my vision swam, and my brain felt starved of oxygen.
“Don’t you fall asleep now. You wouldn’t want to miss this amusing sight!”
As if roaming freely through no-man's-land wasn't enough, the bastard even threw a massive sphere of lightning into the heart of the enemy lines.
Naturally, the Mazoku didn't just stand by and watch…
The sky was instantly filled with magic aimed to intercept us.
The sun, which had peeked through the broken clouds, was still shining down on us.
“What pathetic struggles! Do you all want to live that badly?!”
…At this point, I had no idea how to resolve this situation.
As long as this bastard Dajin doesn’t confuse the enemy camp with our own, we should be fine, right…?
Yeah, right.
At least he isn't striking his allies with lightning. I should be satisfied with that.
***
In the deepest, darkest cave in Vellaland.
A Mazoku with pitch-black skin and large wings sat upon a throne made of blood and bone.
The dozens of kilos of flesh that formed the throne were tightly intertwined. A pale yellow liquid seeped from the small gaps; even the Mazoku who crafted this chair wouldn't know whether to call it blood or poison.
“Hmm…”
Black skin and large wings, long claws and red eyes.
The Mazoku sitting on this throne was one of the highest-ranking officers of the Demon King’s army, an Overlord named Maltiel.
The monster was in a considerably foul mood.
Just as an idea for a new Mutant design had struck him, the outside had suddenly become noisy.
“You’ve come, Samael.”
“…I have returned.”
Maltiel, sitting on his throne of blood and flesh, looked at his adjutant, Samael, who had just entered, and showed a hint of curiosity.
Samael’s face wore an expression rarely seen on him: ‘bewilderment.’
“That’s a rare look for you. What did you see out there? Did the Sword Saint arrive? If so, report quickly. We’ll have to abandon the operation and flee.”
“…”
Samael hesitated for a moment before speaking slowly.
“The boy named Bin, do you remember him, my lord?”
“Of course, I remember. A monster who’d become a nuisance on the level of the Sword Saint if left alone for ten years.”
“That monster is currently…”
Samael took a short breath. He himself wasn't sure if what he had seen was real.
“…riding the Spirit of Lightning across the battlefield.”
“…”
“…”
Silence.
A heavy, uncomfortable silence hung between the two Mazoku.
“…What?”
Maltiel, questioning the unbelievable report, soon connected his mind to one of the Mutants he had created.
The Mutant’s vision was obscured, as if one of its eyes was injured, but now was not the time to worry about such things.
The Mutant under Maltiel’s control raised its head high toward the sky, and there they were: Dajin and Bin.
The Spirit of Lightning was slamming pillars of light into the ground like an enraged god. The sound of thunder never ceased, and the world alternated between shades of gray and stark white.
His subordinate Mazoku and Mutants tried to intercept with arrows and magic, but their projectiles were turned to ash by the powerful electric current surrounding the Spirit of Lightning.
Enveloped in a formidable current, the Spirit of Lightning soared through the sky peacefully and elegantly, as if the battlefield were its own home.
Thunderbolts rained down continuously, and the storm clouds grew ever darker.
“Drive slower, you bastard! I’m going to fall!”
“Ha, what’s to be done if the Ruler of Spirits can’t even handle this!”
And on the spirit’s back, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, was Bin.
It made no sense.
Just a month ago, he was at the level of an ordinary 7th or 8th-circle mage. Of course, considering his age and potential, he was a genius certain to become a major figure in time, but…
‘…He’s riding on a spirit’s back? A mortal?’
It went without saying that Maltiel had never seen such a sight in his entire life.
No, the scene unfolding on that battlefield was something that had never even been described in the fictional tales commonly known as ‘legends’ or ‘fairy tales.’
Wasn't the Spirit of Lightning akin to a god among mages?
What was happening on that battlefield right now… was fundamentally no different from a mere Mazoku riding on a devil’s back across the battlefield.
“According to my investigation, some among the allied forces are even calling the boy Bin the ‘Ruler of Spirits’…”
As Maltiel’s mind began to race, Samael’s voice reached his ears.
“The Ruler of Spirits? Hah.”
Maltiel let out an involuntary sigh and wiped his forehead with both hands.
“…I must convene an Overlord council immediately.”
His growth rate was faster than anticipated. Even an Overlord like Maltiel couldn't fathom the extent of the talent contained within that boy.
“If he reaches full bloom, the war is over.”
The Sword Saint.
That damned brat was a human who could dare to oppose the Demon King and the devils.
Bin.
That crazy kid was a human who could become a great calamity, one that could overwhelm the Demon King and the devils in the future.
He had mastered a spirit within three months of learning magic and had taken the Akilliptus Forest Zone from a high-ranking lord.
There was no question. A plan was needed, right now.
“Maltiel. What’s going on all of a sudden? A council? And why is it so noisy outside?”
“What is all that commotion out there? Maltiel, he looks just like that mage you mentioned before.”
“…I am simply and utterly dumbfounded.”
One by one, the voices of the other Overlords began to echo in Maltiel’s mind.
Maltiel covered his horned face with his black hands and sighed.
“An enemy we must kill has appeared. From now on, we will lead all our forces into an aggressive offensive.”
“An offensive? Suddenly? If we just focus on defense as we’ve always done, they’ll wither away on their own.”
“Who becomes the master of Vellaland is not our primary concern right now.”
Maltiel rose slowly from his throne of bone and flesh as he spoke.
“Our top priority has just changed. We must kill that mage, Bin.”
At Maltiel’s words, the listening Overlords fell silent for a moment. Their minds worked furiously, calculating how executing Maltiel’s proposal would affect the Mazoku as a whole and which direction it would steer this war.
“I acknowledge that this kid Bin has outstanding potential. But isn't the risk a bit too great? Vellaland will fall into our hands without issue if we continue as we are. If we’re lucky, we might even kill Bel and Grisha. Should we throw away all those possibilities and risk our own lives just to kill that kid?”
Breaking the brief silence, someone asked Maltiel. Doubt lingered in their voice, as if the cost-benefit analysis wasn’t yet complete.
“It’s worth the risk. Even if we all die, as long as we take that white-haired mage’s life, it will be a net gain for the Mazoku.”
“Hmm…”
“That’s a rather confident tone.”
Maltiel, it seemed, had already finished his calculations. The monster asserted with a voice full of conviction that killing the young mage was an undeniable gain.
Hearing his voice, the Overlords quietly considered his words before cautiously speaking up.
“I trust Maltiel’s judgment. I have never seen a mage riding on a spirit’s back, nor are there any records of such a thing. It is certain that what we see there is an unconventional threat.”
“And his growth potential is exceptional. According to rumors among the continent’s people… he hasn’t even been properly trained in magic for more than a few months?”
“Should we fly out and fight now? If we’re going to kill him, it seems better to do it immediately.”
“It’s definitely a trap. Bel and Grisha are undoubtedly prepared to escort him nearby. I’d rather avoid a battle on a field of their choosing.”
“…You lot always think too much.”
“Then it’s decided.”
Leaving the other Overlords to their minor squabbles, Maltiel severed his connection with them.
In the pitch-black cave, Maltiel focused his mind. Soon, his consciousness connected to his high-ranking Mazoku subordinates.
“The Overlord commands. Push the front line and advance.”
Maltiel’s order was relayed to the high-ranking Mazoku. They, in turn, would pass the same order to the common Mazoku, who would then command the lower-ranking Mazoku and Mutants.
Under an extremely simple and clear chain of command, the massive army of flesh began to stir.