The Blood Cloud Extermination
The call signaling operation failure came over the leader's mana radio.
And not just any call—it was to the point where even that iron-willed leader was shrieking in agony, howling to run.
"Orders received. Escape through the west gate. Move out, now."
Yet upon hearing this transmission,
half of them were ready to bolt at the leader's command without a second thought.
"No, don't jump to conclusions. If the leader's been taken out and the radio seized, anyone could pull this stunt."
The other half sensed something off,
blocking the escape and urging caution.
Because no matter how hasty they were, this was way too pathetic, wasn't it?
The Demon King's assassins were lethal not just for their elite individual combat prowess, but because they always moved with meticulous caution and precision.
The plan to slaughter everyone in Tak County had been mapped out from entry to retreat.
So even if that voice really belonged to the leader,
ordering a retreat that deviated so wildly from the established plan was clearly a bad call.
Looking at it positively,
it lent more weight to the idea that it wasn't the leader.
However,
they couldn't exactly call the pro-escape faction cowards.
This was the first time the Demon King's assassins had ever assembled as a full unit for a total annihilation op.
They had no clue who it was that even their lord deemed a threat.
So when the leader clearly got taken out, blindly pushing on with the op was reckless ignorance.
All the assassins would agree on that.
In special ops like this, even the slightest threat could lead to total wipeout.
"Vice-leader. Your orders."
"...Right."
Weighing all the factors, the vice-leader transmitted:
"Retreat. But stick to the original route."
Ignoring the leader's supposed order
to flee via the west gate.
Instead, escape safely using the pre-planned path.
If there was truly a reason for the west gate, the leader would follow up with details.
If it was hijacked, the hijacker wouldn't know the real escape route anyway.
"...Tch."
And sure enough,
Valter clicked his tongue upon hearing it.
They should've just followed orders like good little puppets.
Their excessive wariness was complicating things in a way that seriously pissed him off.
He hadn't expected it to go smoothly from the start, sure.
But having them conveniently gather at the west gate for a quick wipeout would've been ideal.
Still,
knowing the board was already set in his favor, Valter grabbed the radio again and spoke.
"—Thanks to your sharp instincts, you've made this easier, you bastards."
Gone was the screaming voice from before.
Just his usual tone, thick with venom like flowing blood.
"But deciding to retreat now changes nothing for me. If you've got eyes, look at the figure atop the central bell tower."
Any intelligent being would naturally glance that way.
And there, flapping its wings like a gargoyle, stood a sinister evil spirit reeking of dubious jade.
It was Jade.
"See it clearly? That evil spirit is my minion, and it's cursed you lot. In about five minutes, your blood will boil and you'll drop dead—a nasty curse."
"...Damn it, cut the radios! Now!"
The moment "curse" was uttered,
the vice-leader, belatedly sensing the trap, yelled to shut them off.
But Valter ignored him and bellowed on.
"So go ahead, flail around for those five minutes. The guy you called leader died screaming from that same curse. You heard it, so you know."
"—Fuck!"
"And if you somehow survive, don't worry. Once you're writhing in agony, I'll come smash your skulls myself."
Crash!
With that,
Valter smashed the mana radio against the ground.
"Heh, keep those brains churning. Your heads'll ache for five minutes."
In truth,
everything Valter said was a lie.
Jade hadn't cast any such curse.
Hell, boiling blood as a curse? Even he, the creator of Blood Magic, had never made or heard of such a thing.
But lies mixed with a kernel of truth have always been potent.
Jade had simply been up there, exuding Blood Magic aura to mark their locations.
Just as Valter didn't know their retreat paths,
how could they know what Jade was doing?
They couldn't.
Believing the curse was real,
they'd spend those five minutes in terror, desperately seeking a way to lift it.
But that was exactly falling into Valter's trap.
"Diagnosis and dispelling will keep them busy enough. No chance they'll harm the populace. Back when I was the Sword Ghost, I could've let them all die without a care, but this 'blue blood duty' shit is a pain."
「My liege. Now? 」
"Mark 'em."
And five minutes was more than enough for Valter.
At his signal, Jade atop the spire writhed like rising lava,
then—
Fwoosh!
unfurled crimson wings from his back,
drawing every eye at the festival.
It was the form of a devil.
"Kyaaah—!!"
"What the hell is that, guards...!!"
But a devil on humanity's side.
"Lord Valter, bestow your faith upon me."
Jade unleashed his full evil spirit power,
Squish.
clawing open his own belly to spew blood.
The blood rode his wings into the sky,
forming a cloud.
That ominous cloud spread its domain, soon blanketing the entire count's castle,
as people quaked at the impending calamity.
Then the blood cloud extended tendrils,
slamming blood rays into the ground.
Boom!!
But the rays didn't rain indiscriminately,
devouring the populace as feared.
Instead, with precise, surgical strikes,
they pierced the heads of the assassins hidden among the festival crowds.
But the populace's fears weren't entirely unfounded.
"Guh, guuuuuh—."
Assassins hit by the rays
burned red as their bodies melted,
liquefying completely and ascending the rays.
Gurgle.
They merged with the blood cloud.
In seconds, the cloud, gorged on more blood than two hands could count, rippled like a beast savoring a meal.
"Ha, splendid. To think you could wield such high-powered Blood Magic! Must've been quite the 300 years without me, eh, Jade."
「Your sword wrought far greater deeds. This Jade is but a lingering ghost of those footsteps—pray, no excessive praise.」
"I wasn't expecting much, but rewards and punishments must be clear."
「Heh, heh... heh... L-Lord Valter...」
Valter had generously said five minutes,
but for Jade—who'd already pinpointed and locked coordinates using the time Valter bought—it was a mere 30-second task.
Three hundred years after Sword Ghost Valter's death,
the assassin unit, painstakingly raised by the Demon King herself for a worthy special forces squad, was utterly annihilated.
Without accomplishing a damn thing.
Vanished into the dustbin of history.
However,
even the Demon King hadn't held high hopes.
She wouldn't grieve much upon hearing of the wipeout.
More like...
'Is that so. A shame. But I figured as much—nothing to be done.'
Because sending any army against Valter
always ended in either his survival
or total annihilation.
It was tradition stretching back eons.
Born an immortal, she could accept it with the calm of yesterday's news.
Of course,
the future populace witnessing all this in the "300 Years of Decline" couldn't stay as nonchalant as the Demon King.
"V-V-V-Valter!!"
"Mother, tell everyone to come out from cover. How long's it been over? Why the panic?"
"Ah, aaah... So that cloud was yours..."
At the festival rite's central dais,
where the ceremony had been underway,
Valter strode up after wrapping things up
and found his family and the populace collapsed in awe at the bizarre miracle.
But this was no cause for alarm.
He explained calmly.
"Luck was on our side, but I handled the Demon King's assassins. Carry on with the festivities."
"L-Lord...?"
He snatched a cup set aside—perhaps for him—held it casually, and raised it to the sky.
"Don't wanna get dragged to the capital again, so let's keep this our territory's little secret. Yeah, right."
That was his toast.
And sure enough,
two weeks later,
the king's messenger barreled into Tak County, gasping for breath.
"Young master Valter! We're looking for him!! Open the gates, quick!!"
This time, ditching his former arrogance
for pure, desperate groveling.