Understandable (6)
Whoosh.
I quietly drew my sword with my blood-soaked body. The blade—black demon energy mingled with amber sparks until it looked like a wood fire—still burned fiercely.
Thud.
In the meantime the one my sword had fully impaled crumpled with a wet, squelching sound. The corpse lying in the mud was filthy, yet still so pale it looked alien. The crimson blooming from one side of his heart looked almost like a flower.
For something made by a human, this is a pretty decent sword.
Ah, this is fucking exhausting, for real.
I swore to myself I would never fight a knight again and swept my gaze across the surroundings. The battlefield had frozen for a moment, thanks to the demon energy I had just released—or rather, that had just been released through me.
Why everyone had suddenly stopped moving? Well… probably the same reason they had frozen a few days ago when I tried that stunt in the forest. In other words, they realized a higher-ranking demon had appeared and were scared shitless.
What I actually saw supported the guess. Every time my eyes passed over them they flinched and bowed their heads—the pure picture of overwhelmed weaklings. Some even shuffled backward step by step, clearly weighing whether to run or not.
Should I just burn them all?
But calculating an escape route and actually turning tail to flee were two completely different things. I watched the things wavering between me and the towering monster at my back. They only watched our faces; none of them dared take a decisive step. They had stopped attacking the humans, yet they still refused to leave the battlefield entirely.
Meaning if I wanted them gone I would have to put in extra work. How much more power I would need to drive them off, I had no idea.
Should I make it so that bug-faced bastard can’t hold the line unless he pulls his whole army back?
Truth be told, driving every last one away would be a problem too. Leaving good and evil aside and looking only at my own profit and loss, it was better if a few of them stayed rather than vanishing completely. Not because I wanted the city to remain in danger, but because there was always the chance the real Demon Knight would simply wipe his mouth and pretend nothing had happened.
The world was full of people who, after you pulled them out of the water, demanded you hand over your pack as well.
If you’ll allow it, I can erase every pest disrupting this board.
So what I wanted was a situation I could solve the moment I stepped in, yet one that still looked a little threatening to the city, while not being an immediate invasion. In plain terms, I wanted just enough demons left behind to give me the upper hand in any negotiation.
I knew how selfish the wish was. Still—
“That would be a breach of contract.”
Oh? And which part exactly is the breach?
“You’re about to use power right now…”
Using it for free, without any price—what’s wrong with that? If you were going to act like this you should have stopped me when I intervened a second ago.
“…That was different from this.”
Really? I don’t see a single difference. Bringing victory out of pure goodwill, clearing out the trash out of pure goodwill—is that a crime?
“I’d rather believe that man over there kills people with a smile on his face than believe you’re moving out of goodwill!”
But of course it wouldn’t be that easy. Yeah. How could it ever work out that neatly?
Ah—ahahaha! Ahahahaha!! Right, of course. You’re correct. Completely correct. Me moving out of goodwill? As if something like that would ever happen!
As long as things turned out favorable for me personally, that was never going to be the world…
But so, you’re refusing? I’m offering to take care of those pests that can threaten your city. Offering to burn every last one of them for free. And you’re still saying no?
“…!”
You don’t want that, do you?
I raised a hand slick with blood and covered my face. Only then did the cuts from blades, the welts from whips, and the gouges from insect mandibles begin to throb all at once. Even with my pain threshold dialed down it hurt this much; I couldn’t even imagine how bad the real thing would feel. And I didn’t particularly want to imagine it.
So shut your mouth, kid. You already chose your beloved hometown over the people dragged into this because of you. Don’t start pretending to worry about that man now.
“…!”
Instead, through the gaps between my fingers I watched letters rise into the air.
…Could I even call that writing? It dug into my brain like a voice and carved itself into my ears like letters.
I didn’t feel particularly surprised by the bizarre phenomenon. Of course not—how long had I known that something other than myself lived inside this body? Why would I jump at this?
Besides… if I thought back to the crimson sword that had just been sucked into my hand, and to the demon energy that had burst out against my will a moment ago, the identity of the speaker became crystal clear.
Maybe because the truth had finally been put on the table, those bastards who had only been watching finally decided to step in.
What pissed me off was that the tone practically begged for a (lol) at the end.
From that alone I could tell the one who had spoken through the system window and the one jabbering now were two different beings. Going a step further, I could even separate the real Demon Knight from the demon by the sheer cheek and flippancy of the words.
A system window that had just apologized didn’t feel like a demon, so the one who had stolen the body and was currently living rent-free had to be the demon.
“Oh, so you do have a tongue after all. The way you kept dodging conversation made me think you were some tongue-less, ear-less, brain-dead scrap of dog food.”
But if you thought about it, the real Demon Knight had summoned me here because of this very demon. Didn’t that make this bastard the ultimate culprit behind this whole fucked-up situation? And the fucker was laughing at me in text form.
I stood before the fragment of my enemy I had finally met and let my hands tremble with rage. The letters fell silent for a moment, then resumed.
“Threatening me the second things don’t go your way—your whole life is written all over your face. Also, if you’re going to tell me to take something out, shouldn’t you at least tell me what it is? ‘Latel’? How the hell am I supposed to know what that means if you just say the name? Or is it that living like a washed-up parasite inside someone else’s body made you start throwing around words only you understand?”
“Thanks for the compliment. You, on the other hand, talk like absolute garbage. Looking at how you can’t even put spaces between words.”
Running my mouth for the first time in ages felt oddly refreshing, yet the anger still boiled underneath.
I watched the string of text fall silent again after a little scolding and sorted out everything I wanted to say to that bastard. The moment I came face to face with him there were so many things I wanted to vomit out.
Really a lot. I wasn’t sure I could get them all out.
Even now my insides were churning; seeing that thing’s face in person would only make me angrier.
Still, I couldn’t ignore the order. The demon and the real Demon Knight remained pieces of shit, but the people behind me were innocent.
I jammed the amber sword point-first into the ground and stretched an empty hand into the air. The two-hander materialized in the empty space between my fingers. The grip I had grown used to over nearly a year filled my palm completely.
Whoosh. The black flames clinging to my body poured into the two-hander.
The words sliding into my ears were a little abstract. I still wasn’t sure what exactly I was supposed to do.
The last part, though, I understood perfectly. So range designation was possible? Nice. I liked that.
I gripped the sword tightly with both hands.
“Concentration?”
“Got it.”
Dumping every last drop of demon energy I had should about do it.
I swung the sword.
Driven mad by thirst they tried to drink demon blood and died. Unable to endure hunger they bit anything within reach, friend or foe, until they themselves were eaten. They tried to drive off the flies, moths, and maggots covering their bodies only to collapse with their guts already gnawed out. Sometimes they scratched themselves raw from the plagues those insects carried and simply rotted away.
In a scene of madness where being torn apart, melted, or severed by demons almost counted as a peaceful death, Gunter heard a metallic “clang!”
The blade of the one fighting the traitor shattered—and that sight lodged itself in his vision as if by pure chance.
“A-ah—”
Clatter.
Witnessing it was probably coincidence. In the middle of that frantic battlefield, to look exactly at that moment and see the scene beyond—it had to be the whim of chance.
But the amber sword the traitor had discarded catching on his foot was inevitable, and being able to throw Bernstein without any demon interfering was clearly fate.
“Hup!!”
The sword that should have fallen three or four meters in front of the wall was snagged by a black thread and sucked straight to the place he had intended.
“Young Lord!”
Krrrrk!
Yet in the brief instant it took the sword to reach that place, Gunter paid the price for ignoring everything else. The demon he had turned his back on spun around and aimed its claws at him. It should have.
Boom.
For a split second the weight of the air itself changed, and the claws that should have reached his neck stopped a paper’s breadth away.
[Run run run.]
[Wrath is here Wrath is here Wrath.]
Kyaaaaak!
It wasn’t only that one. The demons that had half-overrun the wall each screamed and began to pull back.
“The demons are retreating!”
The soldiers, still half-dazed, thrust their spears, but almost nothing fought back. The creatures flung themselves off the wall like a terrified swarm of rats and crawled across the ground.
“Ah…”
The sword that had held a fragment of dawn for an instant turned pitch black, then returned to the color of dawn again—that was the moment.
Pitch-black sparks scattered like ash, and a crimson blade so bright it stung the eyes blazed like a torch. It was the flame that pierced the traitor’s heart.
“It’s the Amber Knight…”
“It’s Lord Amber…”
“Lord Amber has returned…!”
Every surviving soldier turned toward that vivid light. With the demons falling back there was no longer any reason to stop looking.
Those who remembered the crimson flame wept; those who did not sang of the gods.
“A-a demon… it’s a demon, but…”
“O God, we… we…”
Even the priests who wielded divine power were in a similar state. They agonized over the absolute contradiction they were witnessing while at the same time staring blankly at the hope that had arrived.
“O God, why have You sent us this trial…”
The bishop who had lost an arm to a demon muttered through a stream of tears.
“Bishop.”
“…Young Lord.”
“The people…”
Gunter started to speak, then swept his gaze across the top of the wall. The trained soldiers had been reduced to a third, and most of those remaining were wounded.
“Please heal the people.”
“…The amount of holy power we can still use is not large.”
If they healed everyone, the priests would be unable to use any more power. In other words, if they had to face demons again before recovering, they would no longer be able to borrow the gods’ strength.
“…I do not believe that thing is an enemy.”
They could not keep the figure standing outside in check.
“Because it resembles Lord Amber, or Lord Amber’s child?”
“…No. It’s just… I’m just…”
“Young Lord…”
“…I know. Damn it, I know I can’t make decisions on vague faith alone. I know this is a gamble… but not saving the soldiers doesn’t mean we can beat that thing either.”
But would checking it even mean anything?
“Can we beat that thing by saving our strength right now, Bishop?”
Gunter watched a part of the world silently evaporate and helped the bishop to his feet. Even in that short span he could clearly see the army of evil they had barely managed to endure vanishing without leaving behind so much as a speck of ash.
All of it had been accomplished with a single swing of a sword.
“This isn’t an emotional decision. It’s a calculated one. So Bishop… let’s just save the soldiers.”
“…Yes.”
Gunter watched the bishop smile hollowly and forced strength into his trembling legs. Now it was time to restore order on the wall.
“Wh-what!”
“…?!”
Suddenly something bone-like erupted from outside the wall.
I watched the two-hander melt into white mucus that then surged upward and formed a cocoon protecting me, and closed my eyes.
Any attack that might come would be completely blocked by this—assuming the demon’s words were true—so now it was time for a proper conversation.
My vision was swallowed by pitch black, and the fall began.
“….”
And when that fall ended, I could finally see the beings that had dragged me here.
“…I’m… I’m sorry.”
A figure wearing a goat skull like a mask and a gray-haired boy whose eyes were full of tears stood in a world of red and white.