Chapter 25: "You Have Quite the Sharp Eyes."
"You have quite the sharp eyes."
The bastard halted his casual approach and fully pulled back the hood of his robe. It was a familiar face. But the expression was different. The red eyes, the glasses, and above all, that smirking grin. The mocking, oddly high-pitched tone. It was just like the 'real' newbie crusher I'd encountered thousands of times in the game, Melwood Elion.
"How did you know?"
How did I know? Come on.
"The 'guy' I know doesn't move so inefficiently. Besides, he can't even use dark element magic with his abilities."
The thing possessing Melwood's body giggled at my words.
"You seem to know my host quite well."
"Not just your host. I know about you too."
The 'not-Melwood' thing's face hardened at my response.
"Then you must know who I am...?"
"Demonkin."
"Haha, close but..."
"...Listen until the end. You're a grudge born from the fusion of a demonkin's emotions with a weapon they've used for ages. Am I wrong? No, judging by your face, that's spot on."
Its expression stiffened. Kids these days really need to learn to let adults finish speaking.
"All the demonkin are holed up beneath this academy right now. The idea of one strolling around alive is absurd."
Grind. I heard the vicious sound of teeth gnashing right in front of me.
"...Do you know... who it was that... shoved us into that damp underground hell...?"
As if I wouldn't know that much. Listen up.
"That would be thanks to my ancestor, the hero Repelheit, and the great First Emperor Salenias."
That's why I have the ridiculous skill Martial God Overlord - Primordial Descendant, and why Ebnis has Primordial Descendant too.
"The Repelheit family are descendants of the hero and have served as the imperial family's right hand for generations."
It's right there in the setting documents, plain as day. Before Salenium Academy was even built. An incredibly ancient past. The mythic era when humans, elves, beastkin, and demonkin all roiled together. My ancestor Repelheit, chosen as the hero, led the charge alongside his friend, First Emperor Salenias, driving back and sealing the demonkin on the battlefields of myth.
"That's why you put everyone else here to sleep, excluding me."
No matter how much of a remnant grudge it was, its essence was demonkin. And I was basically their arch-nemesis, Repelheit.
"...Yes, that damned blond hair, those blue eyes. The memories of our old master still burn in my mind, unforgettable."
The thing had put everyone else to sleep solely to kill me. But if that was the case, one thing didn't add up.
"One thing I'm curious about."
"...What?"
"Why didn't you wake that one? He's a bit dim, but he's Repelheit like me."
The demonkin's grudge glanced where I pointed and snorted.
"I figured killing you first and dealing with him later wouldn't be too late. Hm. Fair enough, I suppose. A Repelheit who gets outprioritized by his arch-enemy demonkin. Good luck, Ebnis."
But why me, of all people?
"My physical stats and mana are nothing to joke about."
"Repelheit was the same on the surface. A man who didn't look strong at all. That's why we let our guard down and lost. So here, I will kill you—for revenge."
Fine, if that's how you want to play it.
"What happened to Melwood Elion?"
"His soul simply fainted from the continuous strain. That's how I could come 'out'."
That made sense. In the original story, you couldn't sever the magic hand—you could only dodge or block it. But we'd cut it off differently from the original. The real Melwood couldn't endure the pain, passed out, and naturally, the grudge took over the body.
I got the gist. But I had no intention of bowing my head here like, "Ah, centuries of revenge? Take it." Time to loosen up a bit. This felt like a fight I could go all-out on.
'The path to nightmares forces 10 minutes of sleep in real time.'
Ten minutes. Or precisely, 9:55:47. I timed it. Close call. With my Vitality at 5, I could endure that long. The problem was, even if I could hold out, I couldn't burst it down solo. Holding it back was my limit. So while I kept it pinned, my awakened allies needed to move fast and pile on the damage.
No problem. Once they woke, Reina would grasp the situation and back me up quick.
'Unless it's an upper demonkin, demonkin mages all follow the same patterns. For trash mobs, their movements are straight copies.'
I tucked the spirit wood branch back into my pocket.
"Just so you know, surrender's off the table. You're dying right here."
"All talk."
I drew a dagger from my bosom. Right now, this was my most comfortable weapon. A dagger in a leather sheath. I gripped the hilt reverse-style, slowly advanced, drew the blade, and tossed the sheath.
"Abandoning the spirit wood branch for that? I'm curious what kind of weapon it..."
"Just a dagger."
My face reflected in the keen blue edge.
"Three thousand elrin at a general store."
Right then, we both kicked off the ground.
"【Dark Element Magic: Magic Bullet】"
A dark, rippling crimson magic circle expanded massively, unleashing a barrage of black projectiles at me. A fan-shaped bullet hell—one hit would be fatal to my Vitality-5 body. No, it'd kill me outright.
Feeling my heart race, I grinned lightly.
"That all you got?"
The low fan of bullets was an AoE, naturally hard to dodge. But who am I?
"【Low-Tier Wind Element Magic: Wind Blade】"
My Wind Blade, leveled to 3, compressed and burst air with explosive force—like when I'd blasted Ebnis back. I leaped, detonating two in sequence on the ground to launch skyward.
"...What."
"Always exceed their expectations. My motto."
Another Wind Blade behind me for an air dash. Mid-flight, I hurled a Fireball at its position. If your hand's weak, maximize what you have. That "hee hee dark bullet spam" was AoE but interrupted by movement or damage.
Flames erupted tall where it stood. I readjusted my dagger mid-air and dove.
It dodged the dagger and backed up, chanting instantly—but I closed in, slashing sideways. Fighting mages in the Salenium saga? Against humanoid, especially mage bosses? Deny them 'distance' and 'time' to cast. Damage didn't matter if it was 1 or 2. Just relentless attacks. No gaps for spells. Close if they retreat, pursue, keep slashing.
My dagger nicked its collar. Grazed its leg, sliced under its chin.
"Kragh...!"
"Sorry about this, Melwood."
Damage was minimal, but my attacks landed. Its didn't. Simple reason.
"Ambush Magic Bullet low-right, thrust from above, downward slash then upward slice, Magic Bullet upper-left. And you just thought frontal stab."
"...!"
"No need to look so shocked."
Black mana surged from its hand, grazing past my eyes. Obviously—I'd baited the distance. It grew furious as its attacks kept failing.
"This... this is impossible!"
What's impossible? This is what veterans do.
I flipped my reverse grip, slashed down from above. Side slash, jump. Ducked a flying dark blob, attacked again. Dropped the dagger mid-combo, recaught, stabbed, slashed. Retreated, cast, charged.
"Why won't it hit?!"
"It is hitting."
I slashed blankly and said,
"I've read you lot."
Demonkin mages—not beasts, but true 'demonkin'—don't appear until Act 3. Low-tier trash hides deep in 'Salenium's Darkness.' But the heavy hitters from mythic times? All sealed under the academy long ago. To meet them, you raid the endgame, end-condition 'Demon Realm Layer 9.' There, Lycanslopes and demonkin mages from before are just mobs.
Any Salenium vet worth their salt memorizes their patterns.
"Why! How... why...!"
"If you want to whine about injustice."
My thrust tore its black robe. Second slash split it. Third shredded it. I drove my elbow into its exposed gut, hilt-smashed its temple, booted it away.
Even these feats dealt maybe 10, 15, 19 damage. Not DPS—just constant combos to daze it. All this was just buying time.
My thrusting arm throbbed; my kicking legs strained.
'Getting... rough.'
Me saying 'rough' meant the 10 minutes were up.
"Grk... grrrgh..."
"Time to end this."
I charged forward, reaching back to snag 'it.'
"Like hell I'll let...!"
The furious thing, about to erupt mana, widened its eyes at what I held.
"W-wait!"
Yeah, this was the problem from the start. The root of it all.
I plunged my dagger into the mana-reeking grimoire.
"Gaaaaaaaah!"
Black ichor bubbled like blood from the stabbed edge; its face twisted grotesquely.
That's right. Its true body was this grimoire. A demonkin grudge, a dark spirit born from devouring human emotions.
"Stubborn to a fault."
But it wouldn't quit. Black drool dripped from its mouth as bloodshot eyes glared.
"Repelheit... I hate you. I hate you, Repelheit..."
"Blind rage has narrowed your vision. Can't read the room."
Its eyes shook in shock. I smiled.
"Adrian, sorry. Got taken out."
"Forgive me, Senior! Ugh, my weakness!"
"How could I make such a mistake... Unbelievable."
"My oversight."
"Urghh... uurrghh..."
"Sorry, Adrian."
"......"
"S-sorry, Senior...!"
Reina, Erhan, Lumen, Kalen, Ebnis, Relbrian, Kelly, and even Millije. All had weapons drawn, surrounding it.
"N-no..."
I lowered my dagger, nodded to Erhan behind me.
"Your courage was admirable, demonkin grudge. However."
Erhan nodded back.
Bam!
"Gah!"
He swung his greatsword, flat-bashing its skull.
I watched it crumple.
"Courage alone wasn't enough."
Nothing more to say. We'd won. It lost. Time to savor it.