Chapter 184
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 184
A blade grazed Melju’s cheek.
“……”
Her eyes widened. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. Only after the blade embedded itself in the far wall did blood begin to trickle down her cheek.
Heat flared from the wound as warm blood dripped down her neck. No, that didn’t matter.
“Just now…”
“Is there a problem?”
Had Melju not turned her head, more than a third of her face would have been sliced off. The real issue was that dodging had been pure luck.
Rene was dead serious.
“If I always hold back, it will become a habit. Everyone thinks endless training leads to strength, but that isn't necessarily true. Training is a double-edged sword. When you have the chance to kill but don’t… if that situation repeats itself, a living being begins to delude itself. Even if your mind can tell the difference, your body remembers it differently.”
Maybe they'll spare me in a real fight, too, it thinks.
“If you want to overcome that drawback through training alone, you must repeat the same movement hundreds of thousands, or even millions, of times more.”
Like Patrick.
“If you can't do that, there's no choice but to overwrite your body's memory like this.”
Sometimes, her limbs were severed. Often, she cried out in terror.
Rene offered no comfort. She always waited for Melju to recover with cold, indifferent eyes.
“Recover.”
“Ugh… Nngh…”
“You can recover. You have plenty of mana. Cast `<Cure>` right now. Five seconds. No, within three seconds. After three seconds, it's pointless. You won't be able to use it in real combat.”
The moment Melju barely managed to stand after casting `<Cure>`, another blade would fly at her. Sometimes she would stumble, only to have the exact same spot sliced open again. Rene showed no leniency.
She simply asked, occasionally:
“Do you resent Rene?”
Or:
“Do you want to give up?”
I want to give up.
“……”
Every time she was about to say those words, Melju would lift her head and look into Rene's eyes.
Rene’s gaze held a unique pressure, always seeming to test her. Every time Melju met that gaze, she clamped her mouth shut.
“…No.”
“This is not training to endure pain. This is an exchange of offense and defense. If you resent Rene, cast magic at Rene as well. Even if you kill Rene, you pass the test.”
That was utterly impossible. Melju could barely dodge the rain of blades. Only after her limbs had been severed multiple times did she realize just how much Patrick had been holding back.
“Would you like to stop?”
It’s hard. It’s painful. It hurts so much I feel like I’m going to die.
Now, truly… I want to stop.
She forced herself to hold her tongue.
Once, she tried to use `<Transference>` to dodge the blades. It seemed far more helpful than the evasion methods she had learned from Patrick. That worked for exactly three times.
The moment she used `<Transference>` for the fourth time, an incoming blade severed her ankle, sending her crashing to the floor. With no way to dodge the subsequent blades, her other shin was sliced off as well.
Rene approached Melju and whispered:
“If you plan to use `<Transference>` instead of dodging, go ahead. However, you must prepare the next transference within 0.3 seconds. Once you reach that level, a mage doesn't need to bother getting used to dodging. Ah, assuming the enemy doesn't know how to use coordinate-disrupting magic, of course.”
Whenever it became too difficult, Rene would ask:
“Would you like to stop?”
She gritted her teeth. Her fangs pierced her gums, and blood welled up. The taste was a relief; it kept her from answering.
Four days passed.
Only then did Rene ask:
“You were the one who asked to be raised up in the shortest time possible, Melju. Rene is curious. A forced march like this leaves mental scars that might never fade. Why are you pushing yourself so hard?”
A reason.
It wasn't a single event. It was the accumulation of many things.
“Because I am powerless.”
When defending the Teleportation Hub in Riaze, she had been pushed to the brink of death.
When Erebos invaded Hastin, clearing out low-level undead was the most she could do.
Though she couldn't bring herself to show it at the time, Melju had no confidence in defeating Simon Magus of the Ten Calamities. In truth, she lacked the skill to do so. How could a minor Demon King defeat the gatekeeper of a Great Evil Cave?
She had only put on such a brave face because she knew Swallow would arrive. If she had run into Simon Magus by chance under different circumstances, without Swallow's help, she would have died.
Her powerlessness continued after that.
In Judeca and Knecht, Melju faced death twice because of Marmolia. The only reason she was still alive was because of Swallow.
It was laughable, looking back. Wasn't she the administrator guarding the Primordial Core? How pathetic was it to be protected by the very boss she was supposed to be guarding?
“Just… because I am powerless.”
“……I understand.”
Rene didn't ask any more questions. She just counted the days. It was around the time Swallow and Patrick returned, and Scobina was summoned to gather monsters.
“The monsters will arrive in two to three weeks. You will have to manage them then, so this kind of personal training will become difficult. Rene's education ends exactly then.”
Melju nodded. Rene mentioned that Patrick would probably break the monsters' pride once before things began. According to the plan, Swallow, Rene, Patrick, and the Black Tentacles would oversee the test.
“I shall administer the test in place of Mr. Tentacles.”
The training continued.
A small change occurred in Melju.
Dodging all of Rene's blades in just a few days was impossible, but her evasion rate was much higher. In a flat voice, Rene called it a leap in progress.
That wasn't the only thing that changed. She had developed a tolerance to pain. It didn't hurt less, but she learned how to endure just enough to counterattack. When she did, Rene also had to dodge the magic, which naturally bought Melju more time.
Though it was still one-sided, once they could manage a basic exchange of blows, Rene spoke again.
“Do not try to keep up with Rene and Patrick.”
“…I do not understand what you mean.”
“Your levels of talent are different.”
Objectively speaking, Rene was a genius. In the first place, she was a homunculus, a created being.
“The early alchemists sought to birth the most perfect living being possible. Rene was designed and born as the culmination of that talent. Even if you are a Demon King, you cannot compare.”
“Rene can see movements that are invisible to others. Rene can make movements that others cannot. This was not obtained through effort. It has been this way since birth. That is why Rene was able to rise from a mere incompetent maid.”
Patrick was beyond question.
“He is a natural-born genius who also puts in the effort. His environment supports him as well. That is Patrick. Not sleeping means his day is twice as long as others. While everyone else is sleeping, Patrick swings his sword… Lord Swallow said everyone's skills are similar, but it was Patrick who taught Rene how to use blades.”
“I don’t need to reach that far. I only wish to reach their feet,” Melju said.
Rene replied in a small voice, “But you have something that Rene and Patrick do not, Melju.”
A few more days passed.
Just when she thought she was getting used to it, Rene raised the intensity of the training even more. Melju found it a miracle that her body was holding up.
While struggling desperately, as usual, she was caught by a wire thrown by Rene, tearing the muscle in her leg. Melju fell to the floor, groaning in pain.
This time, her mana was depleted. Rene shoved a mana potion into Melju's mouth and handed her something.
“Remember this pain.”
What she handed over was one of Rene's eyeballs.
It was her original right eyeball, from the socket where Swallow's eye now resided. When Rene held the eyeball up to Melju's face, Melju stared at it silently.
It was cloudy, its visual function long gone. It floated in the liquid of a small glass vial.
Rene did not explain her intention. She simply asked:
“Do you resent Rene?”
“I resent you.”
“I like your honesty. I would prefer it if you resented Rene for the rest of your life.”
Several more days passed. She lost track of time. Only after hearing Patrick discuss future plans did she realize the day was drawing near.
“Any more pain is of little use.”
Just as Patrick had, Rene withdrew her blades once Melju became capable of a basic exchange of blows.
“I think I understand why Lord Swallow brought you here. You have talent.”
It was the first proper compliment she had heard since the training began. Normally she would have been happy, but Melju had no time for that.
The sparring had stopped, but Rene still brought Melju to the private room. Knowing what that meant, Melju continued her magical calculations.
Having gone through countless mock battles that were no different from real combat, she had realized one thing about magic. All the spells Melju had used so far were straight from a textbook. She would cast the entire formula from start to finish, and if it failed, she would start her calculations all over again from the beginning.
That was what made her different from the Demon Kings who stood on the front lines of a battlefield. She learned how to omit parts of the casting. She learned how to feint more naturally and pursue highly efficient magic in any situation.
Above all.
“Are you not going to use Lord Swallow's mana?”
Rene knew.
“I've known ever since I read the mana traces in Knecht. You don't have to hide it… Honestly, I don't like it, but you don't need to walk on eggshells around Rene, do you?”
Rene raised her blades. They were not the ones she had used for training.
It was Guillotine's Tooth.
“It is like Rene's eye. Lord Swallow may have bestowed it, but in the end, it is your power, Melju.”
“B-but, I still need practice…”
“You've been practicing in secret every day, avoiding Rene's eyes, haven't you?”
Rene widened the distance. Melju, who had been silent for a moment, also picked up her staff and stood.
“Everything up until now was practice. This is the first and last real battle.”
Melju raised her staff. As expected, Rene did not wait, swinging her blades. The black mana, which she still couldn't get used to even after hundreds of practice sessions, sent a wave of nausea through her every time it spread from her heart. She felt like gagging.
Dark energy rose from her body, and her staff glowed black.
*
—That was a memory from just yesterday.
The tests for all the other members had just ended. Only then did Melju dispel her illusion magic. Now, only her turn remained.
Swallowing hard, Melju slowly walked forward.
As she came out of the passage and into the common entrance, all sixty monsters glared at her.
Melju opened her mouth.
“I am your opponent.”
*
The moment they realized the ‘enemy’ who appeared was Melju, most of the monsters who had been on high alert froze.
They weren't scared. They weren't paralyzed by pressure, either. It was the opposite.
This is an opportunity.
Everyone was cheering inwardly.
Rumors about Melju had circulated endlessly during their journey to the Primordial Core, passed around so much that they were distorted beyond recognition. They ranged from claims that she had abandoned the Demon King Castle to absurd tales that she had killed Marmolia in Judeca and taken her treasure.
The truth didn't matter. In any case, none of the rumors spoke highly of Melju.
To them, Melju was the easiest target in the Primordial Core.
A nepotism hire.
At best, someone barely qualified to be an administrator.
It was common sense. Putting aside why she was brought here in the first place, how strong could a mere Demon King be?
Everyone here was an A-rank monster. Some Demon King Castles were only B-rank, and even Demon Kings known as war heroes were often a level weaker as individuals than their reputations suggested. Only Yubar held an overwhelming advantage, and there was no way Melju could be on Yubar's level.
Even Yubar would find it impossible to face all sixty of them. This was an overwhelmingly advantageous test.
“I am Melju de Limp Agrea, the sixteenth-generation descendant of Asmodeus and the administrator of Room 4.”
Melju spoke as she walked forward with short strides, unbothered by their gazes. Contrary to her solemn words, the voice coming from her small frame was incredibly youthful.
Not a single monster shrank back or retreated.
A small laugh was heard from the back.
She was still the same tiny Demon King who had been clutching Swallow's sleeve earlier.
The water ghost Rusalka said, “According to the message, we heard that if we kill you, Lady Melju, we can become gatekeepers. Is that true?”