Chapter 265: The Terror Live (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 265: The Terror Live (4)
"It has been a long time, Lord Leon."
The woman, Herya, bowed respectfully. She was Kuarne's trusted minion and a homunculus—a creature Kuarne had fashioned by stitching together the remains of the annihilated Grigori. That was the secret behind Herya's creation.
Sending such a creature as an envoy to Leon, the flesh and blood of Metatron, was an insult in itself. Naturally, because this was the human realm and Joaquin Academy—the cradle of heroes—she had sent an avatar rather than appearing in her true body. Even so, it was more than enough to humiliate Leon. And he made no effort to hide his disgust.
"Where do you think you are, Herya? Do you truly wish to die?" Leon spat, his face twisted in rage. "Wasn't cutting ties with the Demon Realm the explicit condition for my enrolling in the Academy?"
"It was." Herya looked up. Her pale, ghostly face bore an eerie resemblance to Kuarne's. "However, circumstances have changed. Not even the glorious Lord Kuarne could have anticipated that three of our Corps Commanders would perish. It is only natural that we make minor adjustments to our plans in response, Lord Leon."
The longer Herya spoke, the darker Leon's expression grew. His hand twitched against the hilt of Balmung. He wanted nothing more than to draw his blade and strike her down this instant. Yet, he couldn't. That was the tragic reality of his position.
Leon squeezed his eyes shut, agony tearing through his mind.
If anyone sees us like this...
Would he kill Herya? Or would he have to silence the witness? The mere fact that he, the Hero, was weighing such a choice repulsed him to his core.
If I had my way, I'd slice my own throat with Balmung.
But he couldn't do that either. If he died, absolute ruin awaited this world. Yet, even knowing the consequences all too well, there were countless moments he wished he could just close his eyes and turn away.
Whenever such despair threatened to overwhelm him, his late father would appear in his dreams, gently stroking his hair with warm hands and whispering to his son:
-You are the only one who can save this world.
Bound to such a monumental task, Leon was permitted precious little. He could share his burden with no one, nor could he ever be understood. That is what it means to be the Hero, his father had emphasized again and again.
At first, Leon had been filled with pride. But as he gradually uncovered the truth beneath the surface, nothing remained but bitter disillusionment.
I am nothing more than a tool to drag this world out of the abyss.
Leon knew it intuitively. He was being pulled by the strings of an unknown entity—a puppet moving solely toward a predetermined end. Even this entire world felt painfully artificial, nothing more than an expendable cog in some grand machine.
"Therefore, you must return to the Demon Realm with me, Lord Leon. You know as well as I do that remaining at this Academy is pointless. In fact, I am quite concerned that your growth has stagnated."
"..."
Herya spoke coaxingly, but Leon remained tight-lipped.
"My, my." A dry sigh escaped her lips. "It seems blending in among humans has dulled your edge considerably. How truly tragic."
Herya pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. She was mimicking the emotion of disappointment.
"...If you insist on being stubborn, I am left with no choice."
"And if you have no choice?"
"Then I shall have to drag you back, even if it requires a bit of violence."
Tap, tap.
At the sound of approaching footsteps, both Leon and Herya turned. Flowing silver hair swaying gently, Yoo Se-in walked into the chapel.
"I was wondering why a holy place smelled so foul. Turns out a bug crawled inside."
Herya's eyebrows arched softly. The human seemed to recognize what she was.
"Maintaining the chapel happens to be one of my duties as Saintess, after all."
Foom!
Holy Fire surged from the edges of the chapel, forming a flaming perimeter. Soaring pillars of fire trapped them like the bars of a cage. Herya stared impassively at the flames before letting out a dismissive snort.
"The Holy Fire—flames that bind evil beings. But alas, what are you to do? Being a celestial byproduct myself, my body remains completely unaffected."
"I have eyes, you know," Se-in countered nonchalantly, meeting Herya's cold sneer. "Besides, wasn't your goal to take the guy behind you? Too bad he looks like he's having a rough time."
Herya's smirk vanished. She hastily turned around. Leon was clutching his chest, gasping for air.
Nephilim possessed both divine and demonic natures in equal measure. When the surrounding environment tipped heavily toward one extreme, the opposing nature triggered a violent recoil—which was why Leon was struggling to breathe.
Herya snapped her gaze back to Se-in, her glassy eyes glinting dangerously.
"You make things needlessly tedious. But once you are dead, these holy flames will vanish with you."
With a sharp snap of Herya's fingers, the surrounding space began to warp and ripple. Spatial-Attribute Magic—the very reason she, a creature of the Demon Realm, had bypassed the Academy's security undetected.
"Lord Kuarne bade me handle this quietly, but seeing this situation, even he would understand."
Se-in pinched her handkerchief against her nose, stemming the sudden trickling nosebleed. She wrinkled her nose and muttered through a clogged voice, "...Your breath..."
She squeezed her eyes tight. "...fucking reeks."
A vein bulged on Herya's temple. Her eyes flashed with lethal intent.
"You filthy little insect...!"
The fury radiating from her was genuine—no longer a hollow mimicry of emotion.
* * *
We moved out to locate Leon. The search proved easier than expected, thanks to a text message from Se-in.
[Se-in: Come to chapel. ASAP]
She was clearly in a hurry, truncating her words into consonants.
Either way, we immediately changed course toward the chapel.
Better than aimlessly scouring the Academy grounds, I thought. Even if it's a trap, it's worth checking out. But as we neared the building, my doubt turned into absolute certainty.
"Ugh."
A putrid stench assailed our nostrils. Ryozo and Saki winced, covering their noses. Shail and Karon merely knitted their brows, but even they hesitated to take another step forward.
What immense magic power.
The pressure pouring out of the chapel brought everyone to a halt like an invisible wall. The chapel, which ought to have been bathed in divine light, had degenerated into a desecrated ruin.
As we closed in on the entrance, dark shadows squirmed and coalesced into humanoid figures. In an instant, they lined up before the chapel doors like sentinels, their suffocating aura pressing heavily upon our shoulders.
Damn it.
By my estimate, every single one of them was at least B+ to A-rank equivalent. Taking them down wouldn't be an issue for me. The real problem was the remaining duration on my [Blessing of Painlessness].
At most, I have less than ten seconds left.
And there was no telling what kind of monstrosity lurked inside. If I wasted the [Blessing of the Sword God] out here, I wouldn't have the strength left when it truly mattered.
Judging by the sheer pressure of magic power alone, the foe inside was formidable. Everyone except me was visibly intimidated by that suffocating aura. This was no opponent to be taken lightly—meaning every single second was precious.
That was when Ryozo glanced at me sideways. After staring intently at my face for a moment, she suddenly brought her hand up and slapped her own cheek with a brutal crack. Everyone's eyes widened in shock. Her cheek swelled up instantly, and through torn, bloodied lips, she spoke.
"You don't have much time left to use your blessing, do you?"
Realizing what was happening, Abel shook her head violently. She reached down, grabbed the hem of her dress, and tore it cleanly up the side. Her pale leg was exposed for all to see, but she didn't pay it the slightest mind.
"We'll clear a path for you somehow. Go on inside, Geomma."
Abel stepped up beside Ryozo. Sring. Her blade slid out from its sheath with smooth, deadly grace. I blinked as I looked at the two of them.
Right... I told them about the weakness of the [Blessing of the Sword God].
Sharing that secret had caused its fair share of headaches back then, but paradoxically, it was thanks to that knowledge that Abel and Ryozo caught onto my predicament so instantly.
If I had kept it to myself...
We would have wasted precious seconds explaining. Because they knew my weakness, no words were needed. It was a moment where mutual trust truly paid off.
I nodded. The two gave me faint, near-simultaneous smiles before turning to look at each other. Gold eyes met light blue, sparks virtually flying in the air between them. Crackler.
Instantly wiping the smiles from their faces, Abel and Ryozo locked their eyes onto the enemy. They "encouraged" each other in icy tones.
"This isn't subspace, so make sure you don't get your limbs cut off."
"Right back at you. Oh, and tearing your skirt to score points? I have to hand it to you, nice trick."
"..."
"At least you had the sense to stop before showing off too much."
Karon and Shail let out quiet chortles at their petty bickering. It felt as though a winter frost was settling right on cue. Stepping up alongside Ryozo and Abel, Shail spoke to me.
"We will protect the young ladies, even if it costs us our lives."
Shail crouched low like a coiled spring, adopting a combat posture. Beside her, Karon clenched his fist tight before flicking it open.
Ssssshrk!
A dense carpet of silver wires shot forth from beneath my feet straight to the chapel entrance, fanning out on either side to block off any incoming attacks. It formed a metallic tunnel guiding my path.
"Allow me to escort you inside!"
Before I could even utter a word, Karon swept his arm. My body lurched, my feet slipping off the floor.
"...!"
A rushing tide of silver wire propelled me straight through the chapel doors in a fraction of a second. It was the first time in my life I'd ever gone surfing.
* * *
Herya's spells rained down relentlessly. Statues, stone pillars, and chapel pews shattered into pulverized dust under the relentless barrage.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Yet none of it reached Se-in. The blazing veil of Holy Fire shielded her flawlessly from every angle.
Moreover, bound by the Academy's warding and constrained by being a mere avatar rather than her true self, Herya's magical power was halved, her spell repertoire severely limited. Even so, the sheer roar of her attacks was terrifying. Halved or not, her magic was more than lethal enough.
The thin line between life and death frayed with every passing second. The instant her Holy Fire flickered out, she would be vaporized without a trace. Thus, Se-in held the line with everything she had. Blood vessels popped in her eyes, and the copper taste of blood filled her mouth. Just as her body reached its absolute limit—
Creeeeak.
The darkness parted behind Se-in's back. The noxious aura choking the chapel began to dissipate. Like scorching sunlight drying up filth, light flooded into the chapel, scattering the dark shadows into harmless dust.
Se-in, who had been on the verge of losing consciousness, felt a sudden surge of vitality. At the same time, the hair on the nape of her neck stood on end. His killing intent drew no distinction between friend and foe.
"Hurry up..." Se-in mumbled without turning around, a few stray hairs clinging to her trembling, bloodied lips. "I'm seriously about to die here..."
Kang Geomma didn't bother answering. He kicked off the floor. A flash of black lightning shot past Se-in's side, followed half a beat later by a deafening shockwave and a gale-force wind.
It was speed that defied all logic. Herya instantly aborted her assault, shifting to defense as she conjured a protective bubble around herself.
She had heard endless warnings about Kang Geomma from Lord Kuarne until her ears practically bled. What powers he possessed, how to counter him—Herya had believed she was prepared.
It took less than a second for her to realize that belief was nothing more than childish arrogance.
Crossing his hands, Kang Geomma brought both blades down from point-blank range. Aura carved an X-shaped trajectory through the air, unleashing a devastating storm of slashes.
Slice!
Herya's magic popped helplessly, literally like a soap bubble.
And that was all it took.
On the spot, Her/ya was cleaved into piece by piece and collapsed into meat. Leon, standing right beside her, was drenched in a shower of dark, murky blood.
Leon slowly raised his head. His once-vibrant, ocean-blue eyes had turned dull and hollow, as if stained with black ink.
The God-Slaying God, the Sword Demon, the Hero's Nemesis. And...
The Demon King.
Geomma looked down at the Hero with a gaze filled with absolute contempt.