Chapter 190
Chapter 190
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 190
Chapter Title: Death Knight (2)
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Mana and black mana are fundamentally different powers.
That meant there were vast differences in everything from their nature to how they were wielded.
Mastery of black mana didn't translate to mastery of mana.
That was precisely why Demian had started from a low level right from the beginning.
He had only reached the pinnacle as a Death Knight, as a Dark Knight. He knew nothing about handling mana.
So after his regression, Demian had built up new knowledge, conducted endless research, and honed his skills.
All to reach the peak not as a Dark Knight, but as an ordinary knight.
He could have chosen black mana and grown strong in an instant, but he hadn't.
He wanted to forget the past. He despised that impure power known as black mana.
But in this moment, Demian chose black mana once more.
He chose this horrific, repulsive, yet familiar power again. He cast off the shackles he had placed on himself, if only for a time.
As black mana flowed through him, power surged from the depths of his body. His senses expanded, spreading far and wide.
Master Class.
The transcendent realm every knight yearned for.
A realm only a scant handful of heaven-blessed geniuses could barely attain.
Demian ascended to that realm with effortless ease. No, "ascended" wasn't quite right.
He reclaimed it.
By wielding black mana, he had temporarily summoned back his past prowess.
"This sensation has been a long time coming."
Strictly speaking, Demian couldn't be called a true Master Class right now.
Technically, he matched the level, but his body was still at High Class.
But what did that matter?
The foe he needed to crush right now was no better than a bug crawling on the ground.
"Wingstone."
Demian turned his gaze to Wingstone.
Unlike moments ago, Wingstone's face was ashen, like a man on the verge of death.
"Now, let's bring this to an end."
With those words, Demian slowly raised his hand.
* * *
What in the world was happening right now?
Wingstone hadn't thought much of Demian.
Sure, he was a Grand Black Mage, but this side had a Master Class. There was nothing to fear from some Grand Black Mage who hadn't completed his vision.
To Wingstone, this wasn't a fight. It was merely an execution to soothe Sucle's wounded pride.
But the instant Demian absorbed black mana and spread it through his body, everything changed.
Something overflowed from Demian.
Aura? Presence? Killing intent? Oppression?
It couldn't be pinned down precisely. Something immense exploded, filling the entire world.
"You... what the hell is this...?"
At that moment, Demian's gaze turned to Wingstone.
No emotion surfaced in Demian's eyes. They were simply indifferent.
But the instant their eyes met, Wingstone's entire body began to tremble violently.
He told himself to stop, but his body wouldn't obey. No matter how he commanded it, it refused.
Not content with mere trembling, his head slowly bowed.
He feared even looking, wanting to keep Demian out of his sight as much as possible.
"Huh, heuk... heuk..."
His breathing grew ragged, and with each breath, he felt his insides quake. Bitter bile rose from the depths of his stomach amid the crushing terror.
-Are you the strongest once you reach Master Class? As if. The world is vast, and there are many powerhouses.
In that instant, Wingstone recalled words his master had once spoken.
-The higher the knight's realm, the greater the internal disparities. The gap between the weakest and strongest High Class is far wider than between Low Class weak and strong.
As a child, during training, his master had once spoken to him about Master Class.
-Once you hit Master Class, those gaps become enormous. Even among Master Classes, a mid-tier powerhouse can easily kill a low-tier one.
His master had been a Master Class with vast experience and broad knowledge of things Wingstone didn't know.
-Reaching Master Class isn't the end. There are higher realms. Hearing this for the first time? That's to be expected.
Wingstone hadn't taken his master's words seriously.
-There are only a handful who reach Master Class, and among them, those who attain the next realm... maybe one per century, if that.
Master Class was already an incredible existence. Another realm above it?
-How do you recognize such powerhouses? Don't worry about pointless things.
Even as an adult, Wingstone hadn't taken his master's words seriously.
-You'll know when you meet one. Even if your mind doesn't, your body and soul will.
In this moment, Wingstone fully understood his master's words.
Without even crossing blades once, Wingstone's body and soul had utterly submitted to Demian.
Then, Demian slowly raised his hand.
He held nothing. Not even a clenched fist.
Yet Wingstone's terror multiplied several times over. The hairs on his body stood on end.
Demian slowly extended his index finger straight. Then he began to slowly slash it downward.
I'm going to die.
Wingstone's instincts screamed it. The moment that finger slashed toward him, he would lose his life.
It felt like the Grim Reaper was pressing his scythe to his throat. He couldn't even think of fleeing.
"Ah..."
Wingstone gaped blankly, awaiting the death that approached.
At that moment, Demian's finger halted abruptly in midair. He stared into the void and clicked his tongue.
"Of all times, you arrive now."
No sooner had Demian's words ended than a fierce gale assaulted them.
It was too sudden to be a natural wind. And so powerful that the clouds in the sky visibly scattered before it.
Winds gathered over the desolate plain, coalescing into a typhoon that raged forth.
"Whew, looks like I made it just in time."
The winds dispersed, revealing a man's figure. Wingstone stared at him in bewilderment.
A bear-like massive build.
Thick cloth garments covering his entire body.
And two greatswords strapped to his back.
"...Holy Knight?"
Wingstone muttered unwittingly. The Holy Knight bellowed in satisfaction.
"You've got a good eye! I am the first disciple of one of the Five Great Saints, Green Wind, and the Master Class unbound by any sect—the wind itself!"
The Holy Knight threw his chest out proudly.
"Ironman Perpetuo!"
* * *
Demian could only click his tongue inwardly at the Holy Knight's arrival.
'If you were coming, you could have hurried up.'
Then he wouldn't have needed to absorb black mana at all to resolve the situation.
'More than that... Perpetuo?'
He had wondered whom the Church would dispatch. An unexpectedly massive figure had appeared.
During the War of Ruin, Perpetuo had been one of the Church's representative Master Classes.
Whenever Dorgo's side sent out a powerhouse, the Church dispatched him first.
'He's not quite at that level now... but still strong.'
Right now, Demian had temporarily reclaimed Master Class strength.
That allowed him to accurately gauge Perpetuo's power.
"Mmm, mmmmmm."
Perpetuo narrowed his eyes fiercely, glaring at the two.
"Which of you two is the Hedonist Master?"
At Perpetuo's question, Demian immediately pointed at Wingstone.
"That guy's the one. See the woman right next to him? She's with him."
"Mmm? Now that you mention it, there is a woman. Man is Master Class, woman is Grand Black Mage... definitely Hedonists!"
Perpetuo nodded repeatedly.
"But who are you? I didn't hear about another Master Class."
Perpetuo tilted his head at Demian.
Despite the unexpected turn, Demian remained unfazed.
"Name's Victor."
He had prepared a mask for just such a situation.
"Victor? That rings a bell... Hmm... Mmm..."
After pondering for a long while, Perpetuo snapped his fingers.
"That's right! I remember now! The black mage who slew the black mage that raided the Church branch in the Mandarine Kingdom and vanished—the Log Splitter Victor!"
Soon after, Perpetuo looked puzzled again.
"But you're not a Grand Black Mage—you're a Master Class?"
To avoid needless misunderstanding, Demian opened his palm and manifested black magic.
Black flames ignited above Demian's hand. Seeing it, Perpetuo nodded.
"My mistake. You are a black mage. Hold on... So why were you fighting the Hedonists?"
"Just happened."
"...Just happened?"
Demian's original plan had been to stall for time until the Church arrived, then flee.
He hadn't prepared any excuses. He hadn't needed to.
"Perpetuo, as you can see, I'm fighting the Hedonists."
"Looks that way."
"Right. I have no hostility toward the Holy Church."
"Hmm, that explains why I sense no killing intent from you."
"So I'll take my leave. Handle the Hedonists yourselves."
With that, Demian prepared to depart.
Perpetuo shook his head at Demian as if to say nonsense.
"Not so fast."
Perpetuo swung his greatsword at Demian without warning.
A blade of wind raced along the ground, slamming into Demian.
Demian shattered the wind with a backhand swipe. He glared at Perpetuo and demanded,
"What the hell was that?"
"What do you mean?"
Perpetuo raised his twin greatswords high.
"Come at me, you filthy heretics! I'll take both your heads right here!"