Chapter 284: The Hero
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 284: The Hero
In remote backwoods where signals rarely reached, airships equipped with massive display screens floated through the sky, broadcasting the Heavenly Sword's face. It was the handiwork of Association President Victor Poison. Thanks to him, the entire world was watching the live broadcast of the Heavenly Sword's speech. Even signals manipulated via satellite reached into a place where waves could normally never extend: the Demon Realm Gehenna.
["May... the blessing of God be with us."]
“…….”
Leon turned off his smartphone screen. On the dark glass, a face contorted like a demonic Rakshasa stared back at him. The moment he met that face, an unbearable surge of disgust welled up inside him.
Crunch.
Veins bulged red and blue across his hand as he crushed the smartphone into a scrap of metal. Leon then whipped the ruined device like a javelin. Flying like a shooting star, it vanished beyond the horizon of Gehenna. From his grip strength to his throwing power, it was a terrifying display of force.
“You seem to be in a foul mood, Hero.”
Herya, lurking beside him like a ghost, spoke up. Leon glared at her before abruptly turning his body away—a clear sign that he had no desire to deal with her.
“I am not in a particularly good mood today either, for various reasons.”
Herya rubbed her temples lightly and let out a sigh. It was a gesture she rarely made, yet it felt as natural as second nature. This was all because of Kang Geomma.
‘Your face.’
Those words hovered near her eardrums, echoing relentlessly as if she were submerged underwater. Herya chewed on her lip. Right now, she was experiencing a distinct emotion: irritation.
“Restrain yourself, Herya. It is fine. Lord Kuarne will take care of him anyway.”
“No.”
Leon reacted to Herya's murmur. Turning his head halfway back, his eyes glinted coldly.
“Taking care of Kang Geomma is my job. That is the only reason I am here with you lot.”
“Well, um...”
Herya hesitated briefly before replying.
“Forgive my impudence, but he is not someone you can handle with your current strength, Hero. Of course, I am not trying to undervalue your power... but with only one day left before the war, self-objectivity is crucial.”
Leon was strong. Since returning to the Demon Realm and absorbing the power of Balmung, he had grown stronger by the day. But it was still not enough to narrow the gap between him and Kang Geomma. Though he was a brash brat, the pressure Kang Geomma exuded was truly astounding. It was understandable why Lord Kuarne had coveted him for so long.
“Hero, you fall short compared to Kang Geomma.”
Thus, Herya decided to offer her honest assessment. It was absolutely, unequivocally not out of spite.
“…….”
There was no reply. Leon simply glared at Herya. A quiet, tense stillness hung between them. It was at the moment Leon placed his hand on the hilt of Balmung. Radiant light spread out like mist centered around him, forming a barrier of pure white illumination.
Flash!
In an instant, a pure white space manifested. It resembled broad daylight, yet it was dusted with stardust like the night sky. As if rejecting any attempt at human comprehension, the ground, sky, and structures were all abstract, akin to modern art.
Above, in the milky-white sky, the glittering stars drifted and began taking form. Not just one. Two, three, four. They multiplied infinitely, rendering numbers meaningless. The phenomenon reflected off Herya's clear retinas.
“Th-those entities...”
An ache shot through Herya's bones. She knew instinctively. The infinite yet singular existence gazing down upon her from above—that was...
“Gods.”
The moment the word parted her lips, the surrounding scenery snapped back to normal. Herya hastily looked at Leon.
“Hero, you……”
Leon didn't bother listening to whatever she had to say next. He turned away once more.
Herya stared quietly at his departing back. Then, she let out a hollow chuckle to herself.
They had long since foreordained the conclusion. Ruin. That was the destiny of mortals.
* * *
“Leon.”
It was a day back before he was old enough to know better.
“The day you were born, half the world smiled with joy.”
That was what his father had said while stroking Leon's head. Feeling embarrassed for no reason, Leon gently pulled back to avoid his touch. Combing through his messy golden hair, he asked:
“If half the world smiled, does that mean the other half didn't?”
His father chuckled. At least, it felt like he did. Truth be told, Leon had never clearly seen his father's face. As if backlit by a bright glare, his face was always shrouded in shadow.
“My son, a single nature in this world does not possess just one side. When one side laughs, the other cries; when one side is full, the other hungers.”
Leon questioned him with bright, inquisitive eyes.
“Can't everyone be happy? Why does only one side get to benefit?”
“Hmm.”
His father let out a thoughtful hum and stroked his chin. He seemed to be searching for a gentler way to phrase it for his young son. Leon knew this, but pretended not to notice. He simply wanted to spend more time with the father who visited him only once a year.
Once, he had asked why his father was away every single day. At that question, his father had glossed over the answer with a troubled expression.
Leon hadn't pressed him. He assumed there must be unavoidable circumstances, that his father was somewhere dedicating himself to the world.
He trusted his father. If he couldn't trust the most radiant being in the world, he couldn't trust anything.
“A world where everyone is happy... This inadequate father's imagination cannot stretch that far, Leon.”
Moments later, a smile brushed against his father's lips. He spoke again.
“But I believe that if it's you, you might just be able to create such a world.”
“Creating a world like that? How can I do something even Father couldn't?”
Young Leon pouted his lips, sulking. He disliked how his father held his son higher than himself. Leon could not bear to see the person he wanted to resemble most lowering his own divinity.
“It is precisely because it's you that you can do it.”
Yet, his father's tone was brimming with conviction.
“Leon, because it's you. Because you are the son of your mother and me. You can make everyone in this world happy.”
“…….”
His father bent one knee, bringing himself down to eye level. Leon pulled in his pouting lips with a small breath.
“I believe in you.”
Leaving those words behind, his father departed for that year. Once again, Leon was left alone in the pitch-black cave.
His father had told him that his mother returned to the embrace of the gods after giving birth to him. Having no memories of her, he didn't particularly miss her.
His father was enough for Leon. However, whenever loneliness gnawed at him deeply, he would repeat the words to himself—that once all his tasks were complete, they could live together. Leon eagerly waited for that day.
The same day arrived the following year. It was finally the day he would see his father. Leon was excited from early morning. He set up a modest meal, preparing to welcome him. For an awkward attempt copied from a book, it looked surprisingly decent.
It was then. A tearing sound ruptured outside the cave. The place where Leon resided was a cave located in the Demon Realm Gehenna. Since bloody conflicts frequently erupted among demons here, he paid little mind to it at first.
Aaaaagh...!
But the scream that followed snapped him to full alertness. It was his father's voice. In that instant, Leon's sensory perception awakened and stretched out. His five senses linked together, visualizing the situation and painting a vivid picture in his mind. For a brief moment, the Hero's true potential had bloomed.
Boom!
Leon threw open the latch and burst out of the cave. He ran recklessly, clouds of dust kicking up behind his heels. It was an explosive leg strength and speed unbelievable for a ten-year-old child.
He arrived at the origin of the scream. Without taking a moment to catch his breath, Leon searched for his father. He looked frantically across the ground. Nothing was there. Apart from his anxiety, his senses were honed sharper and colder than ever before.
Leon closed his eyes, then snapped them open. It was an instinctual act. For a brief moment, intense emotion cast off his humanity and released his divinity. Glaring up, he suddenly jerked his head back. A blue luminescent gaze swept upward, following his line of sight.
“……!”
The Black Sun. At its core hung his father, limp in a cross-shaped pose like a puppet suspended on strings. Out of thirty-six pairs of wings, thirty-four had been severed from their master. And those torn wings spun behind his father in concentric circles, orbiting as if possessed of a self-awareness of their own.
It was a horrific sight. His father—Metatron—was being publicly displayed like a condemned sinner.
“Father!”
At his son's cry, his father slowly raised his head. Leon's eyes widened in horror. Tattered eyelids, skin laced with chaotic, blood-red gashes as if hacked to pieces, and exposed internal organs and bones looking as though his flesh had been devoured. That day was the first time Leon ever truly saw his father's face, which had always been hidden in shadow.
“F-Father……”
His lips trembled violently. Even amidst the shock, his subconscious processed the information. From his surroundings and visual cues, he deduced the truth of his father's predicament.
His father was being judged. There was only one existence capable of passing down such harsh judgment upon Metatron: God.
“…My son.”
His father rasped out, gasping for breath. Thick, pure white blood dripped sticky between his chapped lips.
“R-Run……”
Riiip.
Another pair of wings was torn away. Metatron groaned, coughing up blood. At that exact moment, Leon's patience snapped.
He dropped low to the ground to gain maximum leverage. The muscles in his thighs bulged massively. Reason shattered, and raw emotion took over.
But right then—
Bang!
Air refracted at Leon's side before erupting in a deafening blast that slammed into his body. The shockwave was immense. Even considering his small frame, it blasted him far into the distant forest, away from where his father hung.
Thud, thud, thud. After crashing through tree after tree, Leon slammed hard into a massive boulder. He peeled off the stone surface like a sticker that had lost its glue.
“Ugh...”
Leon clawed at the dirt as he pushed himself up. His leg throbbed as if burning. His broken left shinbone protruded through his flesh like an awl. Running was out of the question; he couldn't even walk.
Leon collapsed. A crushing sense of helplessness washed over him. It was a horrific sight for a ten-year-old to endure. But what truly tormented him was something else.
‘It's all because of me.’
The immortals were exacting punishment because their agent, serving as their tool, had let his attention wander. In the end, his father became like a hunting dog thrown into a boiling cauldron. They stripped him of everything without tolerance or mercy.
Step, step.
Footsteps echoed from the brush. This was the heart of the Demon Realm, home to demons and magical beasts. Encounters here were natural, if not expected.
While feeling his blood run cold, a shadow fell across Leon's eyes. His lightless pupils stood ready to accept death.
“Are you alright?”
Parting the bushes, a man stepped out. He was pristine white from head to toe, with strikingly handsome features. His appearance was jarringly out of place in the barren, rugged Demon Realm.
“I received a request from my brother. He asked me to keep his son alive at all costs. So I had no choice but to push you far away in a somewhat rough manner.”
The man flicked his fingers, and Leon's wounds sealed themselves like magic. Despite this display of goodwill, Leon glinted with the wary gaze of a cornered beast.
“Dear me.”
The man gently curled his lips into a smile. Then he simply turned around and began walking away. Who on earth was this eccentric man, giving up on conversation after a single attempt and walking off...?
“…Who are you?”
“The enemy of your enemy.”
The eccentric man turned around slowly and answered.
“In other words, a temporary ally.”
That was the first meeting between the Hero and the 2nd Corps Commander.
* * *
Leon opened his closed eyes. The scenery shifted from the past back to reality. Past or present, the Black Sun burned furiously in the Demon Realm's sky, blazing as relentlessly as ever.
“Father.”
Leon lowered his head. The surging Demon King's Army parted like the Red Sea, forming a path. From the end of that path, Kuarne approached with measured, graceful steps.
“The time has finally come.”
Kuarne wore a benevolent smile. Though he clearly belonged to the same clan as his father, they were polar opposites in every single way. While Metatron remained a brilliant light even when reduced to a bloody mess, this man appeared refined on the outside while radiating a foul, rotten stench.
‘...Am I any different?’
Leon dropped his head. He no longer had the face to look up at the sky.
‘A world where everyone in this world is happy.’
He had turned his back on his father's expectations. Instead of everyone's happiness, he chose revenge.
‘Not everyone can be happy, Father.’
Having come this far, there was no turning back. He already stood with one foot dangling over the edge of the cliff.
“My nephew seems to have many thoughts on his mind before our grand undertaking.”
Kuarne shrugged before taking his place at the center of the legion. Looking around with an expressionless face, he brought his hands together in front of his chest to form a hand seal.
Ruuumble.
Along with a faint tremor, shockwaves rippled outward. Soon, a bright light flashed beneath their feet as the ground sank deep inward. The next moment, everyone present felt a sensation of floating in midair. In fact, they were literally floating in space.
[Sinkhole.]
Beyond the massive hole that had ripped open, a landscape entirely different from the Demon Realm—one intimately familiar to Leon—unfolded beneath their feet. It was Joaquin Academy.
“Exploit and usurp everything of humanity.”
Simultaneously with Kuarne's decree, as if gravity had resumed, the Demon King's Army plummeted downward en masse. They cast spells, falling alongside their respective elemental manifestations—water, fire, earth. As they fell, they licked their lips like wolves sighting prey, bared their fangs fiercely, and let out bizarre war cries. Save for lacking bat wings, their actions were virtually indistinguishable from demons.
“Dammit.”
...A black army raining down through the hole in the sky. Having prepared for this, Kang Geomma was not particularly flustered. The grandiosity of their entrance was merely absurd.
Still, since they had opened the salvo, it was now his turn to welcome them properly.
“Sword Control.”
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February 7th, 2035 AD.
The 2nd Human-Demon War broke out.