Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Demon Baron (4)
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A night when thick darkness raced across the land.
The moon, lost in a jet-black dream with eyes closed, slyly lifted its eyelids as if nothing had happened. Its hazy glow shone in the shape of a fingernail. The lunar halo spread whitely along the crushed clouds, while clotted shadows crept stealthily up the stairs toward the ramparts.
Dozing off with a bob of his head, the soldier jolted awake at the faint presence. He thrust his spear forward in alarm.
"Who's there! Identify yourself!"
...It's me, Delton. Keep your voice down.
"Ah, n-no, my lord Baron!"
Shh!
Baron Molden pressed a finger to his lips.
The baron wasn't alone. Behind him loomed the massive silhouette of a barbarian. The baron wore quilted armor reinforced with chains and carried a spear and sword, while the barbarian had brutal weapons dangling from his belt and a thick rope slung over his shoulder.
Were they heading out to hunt monsters under this moonlight? The scene was so surreal that Delton wondered for a moment if he was dreaming. The other soldiers, roused by the noise and peering over, were just as stunned.
The baron softly rebuked the dazed Delton.
Get a grip, Delton. Aren't you the senior man on duty here? Set an example for the others.
S-sorry, my lord. But what brings you here in the dead of night...
Instead of explaining, the baron issued orders.
Tie this rope securely to the battlements. No matter what, do not leave the castle.
His tone was neither soft as usual nor merely resolute—it was gravely determined, more so even than when he'd ventured out alone to negotiate with Viscount Adlen.
Delton swallowed hard. He didn't dare ask for details. He simply resolved to follow the baron's command in silence.
The barbarian descended the rope almost like he was falling. Strangely, despite dropping so swiftly, he landed without a sound. The baron tugged on his chain gauntlets, then gripped the rope and followed.
Before leaving, the baron called out each soldier's name one by one.
Delton, Sgellon, Odrik, Kren, Benin, Cherod, Donefin.
...Yes, sir.
...Yes, my lord.
I'm entrusting my most precious treasure to you.
...?
Protect Molden well.
With those final words, the baron slid down the rope.
...
A solemn hush fell. An inexplicable heaviness and tension filled their chests. Molden's soldiers exchanged glances before fixing their eyes on the baron's receding figure until it vanished completely into the darkness.
Kadim's proposal was simple.
Slaughter enemies until you die, Baron.
...What did you say?
When the sun sets, we'll raid their camp together—just the two of us. One sword and one spear will do. You'll be sluggish, so keep the armor light.
Wait, just the two of us charging into the enemy camp? Isn't that suicide?
Wasn't that your plan all along?
...
No matter how he died, once the "Demon Baron" was gone, Viscount Adlen would lose his pretext for raising arms. Whether executed after surrender or slain fighting to the end.
But there was cause for concern.
If I slaughter my own men and get subdued, won't Viscount Adlen press the attack on Molden for revenge?
No need to worry. I plan to cut that bastard's throat tonight.
...
If we fail to kill the viscount tonight, I'll help you defend the castle as you asked.
An arrogant reply that didn't even consider the possibility of his own death.
Yet to the baron, that confidence seemed well-founded. Even if he himself died surrounded by foes, this barbarian looked like he'd carve an escape route and slip away unscathed.
Either way, it was a proposal the baron couldn't lose on. His own sacrifice remained the same, but it offered a chance to eliminate the root of the trouble.
Though the real reason Kadim brought the baron wasn't that... The baron could never suspect it.
They soon reached the camp's edge. Kadim motioned for him to crouch low. The baron bent his knees carefully, mindful not to let metal clink.
The dead-of-night silence was suffocating. Not a single torch burned in the enemy camp. The only light came from the profuse moonlight and stars twinkling like grains of sand.
The baron scowled but could barely make out what lay ahead. The barbarian's sharp eyes, however, pierced the gloom and quickly spotted the sentries' outlines.
"Let's begin."
Without a moment's hesitation, Kadim drew a dagger from his belt and hurled it.
Thwip!
The dagger flew like an enraged hornet. It slipped between helmet and gorget, striking the sentry's throat dead-on. The left sentry staggered like a drunkard and collapsed. The other sentry's head slowly turned that way.
Yet even seeing his comrade's corpse, the sentry showed no reaction.
...
A nonchalant attitude, as if he'd spotted a mere stone.
In that instant, Kadim charged forward and swung his sword hilt. The blade surged toward the sentry's jaw.
Crack-crunch!
Terrifying force pulverized the lower jaw and teeth, then sheared clean through the skull. Blood and brains oozed from the mangled flesh. The sentry convulsed at the shoulders and crumpled. A faint hiss escaped the split.
"Hmph..."
Kadim narrowed his eyes, inspecting the fallen soldier briefly.
Deeply furrowed cheeks, sunken eye sockets, and limbs gaunt as twigs. He'd been too busy by day to notice, but up close, both were skin and bones—not the look of a day or two without food.
No reaction even watching a comrade die right in front of them, and starving like this yet no desertion...
Impossible for normal humans. Nor were they monsters wearing human masks. The blood was warm, and pressing the heart revealed a fading pulse.
His suspicions from observation hardened into certainty.
Kadim glanced sharply at the baron and gestured briefly.
"Into the camp."
The baron followed without protest.
Stepping inside, he couldn't help but groan softly.
Ugh...
Even with eyes not fully dark-adapted, he could see them: wretched shadows wandering the camp like ghosts. Sleepless soldiers who neither shed armor, dropped weapons, nor slept—just shuffled about.
Scuff, scuff—
Oddly, they made no voices. Only crickets mingled naturally with the dragging footsteps on the dirt. The bizarre scene felt like stepping into someone's surreal nightmare.
Then, the wandering eyes fixed on the pair in unison.
Empty yet obsessive stares. Soldiers approaching slowly.
...
The baron's breathing grew ragged. But Kadim, having assessed the situation, issued orders calmly.
"Slaughter as many as you can here. I'll scout deeper into the camp."
...What are you looking for?
Didn't I say? Viscount Adlen. As commander, he'll have the strongest demonic possession clinging to him.
...!
The baron shuddered in shock. His gaze on Kadim wavered faintly, eyes asking how he'd known.
Instead of answering, Kadim sneered.
"Rampage to your heart's content until death claims you, Baron. Aren't these the enemies who ruined your most precious treasure?"
...
They're just innocent puppets anyway, and you can't die regardless.
He left the rest unsaid. Kadim turned his back on the baron and charged the soldiers.
Thwip, thwip!
He drew daggers from his belt and flung them in rapid succession. The short blades buried precisely into the soldiers' foreheads.
Thud, thud!
Eyes rolled in different directions. Two bodies toppled stiffly backward without a scream.
Slash!
He drew in a flash, cleaving the nearest soldier. The moonlit blade traced a gleaming afterimage. The throat split, acrid blood spraying. The sword eagerly devoured the enemy's blood without spilling a drop.
...
Soldiers watched Kadim with hollow eyes.
Indifferent to comrades' deaths moments ago, now they shambled closer, one by one raising weapons.
Clang, shing—
Numbers were high, space tight. To advance, he had to carve a path—through these walking corpses.
Kadim drew the forearm-thick battle axe from the castle. He gripped it in his off-hand, the one not holding Mosquito. Then, with ferocious momentum, he plunged into the throng.
"Raaargh!"
He swung wide to maximize power despite their openings. The barbarian's already devastating strikes gained even more force.
Splorch! Crunch!!
Unmerciful axe blows. The dulled edge couldn't shred quilted armor, but the destructive impact transmitted fully. Collarbones shattered, guts pulped, spines crushed—soldiers fell in droves.
Stab, slice-crunch!
Thrusts targeted vitals. Even in the chaotic melee with poor visibility, he struck armor gaps and Adam's apples like a ghost. Throats pierced, joints splintered, limbs severed, faces caved—corpses tumbled like meat puppets.
Kadim produced bodies en masse without spilling a drop of his own blood. Their sluggish weapons never grazed the warrior's skin. The soldiers harbored hostility, sure—but it was as dilute as waterlogged spite, harmless to him.
Undoubtedly, controlling so many bodies strained even a demon.
Yet deeper in, things shifted.
Most soldiers suddenly collapsed like puppets with cut strings. The survivors' eyes gleamed with sharp light.
Their movements turned aggressive in an instant. Savage spearheads and slashes flew, some even voicing growls.
"Grraaah, grraaah..."
"Grraaah! Grah, guhk!"
The demon focusing scattered thoughts on a few.
Still nowhere near Kadim's match.
If anything, he welcomed these baring teeth—proof the target neared, and fresh, wriggling foes were all the tastier to carve.
Thud-bam!! Crack-crunch!
"Kyaaak! Guhk!"
After shredding dozens more, Kadim spotted it: the largest tent flying House Adlen's banner. The target had to be inside.
"Grraaagh!"
"G-Graaah..."
The soldiers' clamor ceased the moment Kadim entered the tent.
...
Thud. The rest collapsed like the earlier ones—silent as corpses.
Kadim's gaze ignored them. It fixed ahead, on the source of all this chaos: the one illuminated by lantern light, awaiting him.
A chilling voice seeped into his bones.
The figure before him was Viscount Adlen, yet not. The once-stately lord commanding four hundred troops now glared with feral malice, a beastly thug.
Kadim felt no fear. He snorted instead. Shameless wild dog of the wasteland? Were there polite, courteous wild dogs in the world?
Indeed, "possession-types" among demons chose words differently from others. Probably from inhabiting countless bodies.
'Possession-type'... A rare catch. I only butchered a couple even in the first playthrough.
The demon possessing Viscount Adlen bristled at the human sneering in its face. It scowled fiercely in warning.
...
Kadim let the demon's words flow in one ear and out the other. Instead, he raised sword and axe. He'd grown numb to demons' loathsome monologues. His reply would be sharp steel, concise.
The viscount's shadow flickered like flames in the lantern light. The roaring demon emanated demonic energy. Kadim felt chest pressure, acrid nasal sting, muscles tingling numbly.
The demon growled through gnashing teeth.
...
The demon reached out. Demonic energy surged toward Kadim's mind like a tidal wave.
Thoughts dissolving form to infiltrate the self. Writhing madly for cracks in consciousness. Each motion oozed wicked confidence. Pouring full power—if it found the tiniest fissure, it could seize total control...
But the demon had no choice but to withdraw its thoughts.
Thud. Back in the viscount's body, the demon collapsed. Its eyes lost venom, face pallid. Like a mere human, it trembled in terror.
Kadim remained impassive. He'd seen this before encountering possession-types in the first playthrough.
Sneering, he muttered.
"Too bad. Capacity exceeded."
The man who had unwillingly come to occupy the barbarian warrior's body strode toward the demon.