Chapter 120
Chapter 120
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 119
Chapter Title: Demon Sword Forte (21) - The One Left Behind
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Stripping away all jokes and exaggerations, the Sage concluded that he alone possessed the power to topple most nations on the continent.
He could slam his staff into the ground to turn every inch of soil in sight into a sandy wasteland, summon trees the size of houses, or manipulate rocks and plants to raise a legion of mighty golems.
And the Sage's comrades—the Hero and the Saintess—were equals in strength, even if their paths differed.
Thus, the Sage thought.
'If we can confront the Demon King at full strength without any losses, we'll have a shot at victory.'
He didn't underestimate the Demon King.
On the contrary, for three beings each rivaling a nation's might to face the Demon King together and see only a glimmer of hope rather than certain victory—that alone made the Sage's judgment seem overly cautious, almost cowardly, to ordinary eyes.
Yet the Sage couldn't help reflecting anew.
That he should have been even more cautious.
"You monster...!"
The Sage ground his teeth.
He was desperately stoking his fighting spirit, but his body trembled faintly all the same.
Unconsciously, he touched his neck.
The Demon King's slash at the battle's outset.
The afterimage of that strike, which could have severed his head in an instant, still lingered vividly.
Had the Hero not blocked the Demon King's sword in time, they would have been annihilated before they could even fight properly.
No, the crisis was unfolding in real time even now.
Clang!
The Demon King's and Hero's swords clashed.
The Demon King's aura, refined to utmost purity and compression without the slightest waver, collided with the Hero's brilliant flurry of petals.
"Nngh!"
The Hero was at a disadvantage.
With every clash of blades, dozens of the petals shielding the Hero vanished, and small wounds began appearing on his body.
Seizing that opening, the Demon King unleashed a single, piercing thrust, carving a diagonal line across the Hero's torso.
"Fernando!!"
Before blood and entrails could spill from the Hero's gut, the Saintess's blessing forcibly knit the wound closed.
The Demon King tried to unleash aura from his sword to cleave both Hero and Saintess at once, but the golems conjured by the Sage threw themselves in his path.
Less than a second was bought at the cost of dozens of golems, each stronger than an average knight.
It was enough time for the Hero to regain his stance, but it came at the steep price of depleting the Sage's forces.
Without a hint of regret or joy, the Demon King calmly pressed his next attack.
Hundreds of spears materialized in the sky, raining down like arrows on the Hero's party, only to be blocked by the Sage's walls of rock and the Saintess's blessings.
The Sage tried to turn the ground beneath the Demon King into sticky mire to bind his feet, but the Demon King coated the entire surface with his own magic, nullifying the interference.
The Hero's party was putting up a respectable fight against the Demon King right now.
They were draining his mana and scoring scratches on his armor.
The free-spiraling flurry of petals, the holy radiance, and the onslaught of puppet legions made it possible.
But that was all.
The party's mana would run dry before the Demon King's.
The party would fall before the Demon King did.
Clank.
His pitch-black armor rattling, the Demon King swung his sword.
Massive darkness incarnate, cloaked in black armor mimicking human form—the Demon King revealed no emotion even amid the fierce battle.
He showed no joy. No sorrow, no impatience.
It wasn't that the Demon King lacked emotions.
Just as one doesn't rejoice or despair over every document while buried in paperwork, this battle was merely "work to be processed" for him—nothing worth emotional display.
The Sage realized it.
In the Demon King's eyes, he and his comrades were nothing more than numbers on a page.
'This isn't enough. Our power calculation was wrong from the start!'
It wasn't a mere difference of one rank.
An unbridgeable chasm separated transcendence from the rest, yawning between the Hero's party and the Demon King.
The Sage's mind raced desperately.
Flee? Impossible.
Even if all three bolted side by side, their backs would be cut down. Sacrificing one as bait wouldn't buy meaningful time.
Force a short battle? Impossible.
The party was already unleashing maximum firepower. They weren't holding back for a prolonged fight—they were scraping the barrel bottom just to hold on.
Change the battlefield? Sacrifice this false body? Bluff through negotiation? Surrender instead?
Countless options and tactics flashed through the Sage's mind, only to be immediately refuted and discarded by his own logic.
And even as he scrambled for a way out, the tide worsened.
Finally, in the moment the Sage fell into despair.
"—O God. To You, the Almighty, I offer myself."
The air shifted.
The radiant light bursting from the Saintess began usurping the space dominated by the Demon King's mana.
The light amplifying the Hero and Sage's powers intensified several-fold, flooding their bodies with vitality—but neither could rejoice.
The Saintess's body was dissolving into light from her toes upward.
In exchange for borrowing immense power from her god, the Saintess herself became the offering.
Compassionate, diligent, fiercely responsible.
Yet cowardly enough to hide her true identity, and afraid of death.
This profoundly human woman chose an end perhaps worse than death.
For victory. And to save her comrades.
In that instant, the Sage loathed himself.
Because the Saintess had chosen the very option he'd considered but could never voice aloud.
He was as repulsed by his joy at the slim chance of victory this created as he was by his grief over her choice.
"────!!"
With a roar, the Hero charged forward.
Knowing hesitation would render the Saintess's sacrifice meaningless, he held back his overflowing tears and swung at the Demon King.
Diverting even the minimal petals for defense to offense left his body slashed, burst, and crushed—but the overwhelming light from the Saintess pulled him back from death to life.
The Sage didn't stand idle either.
Ignoring limbs blasted away by the Demon King's spells, he plunged into close range and jammed his staff—charged with all his mana—straight into the armor's center.
Squelch!
Creak, creeeak!
Tree roots sprouted inside the Demon King's armor, straining to halt his movements.
They snapped and withered with every surge of the darkness comprising his body, but the staff at their source neither broke nor dried, persistently hindering him.
Screeeeech!
The Hero's petal storm endlessly battered the Demon King's body, gnawing at his armor.
With eerie metallic shrieks, the Demon King's form grew increasingly ragged.
Watching this, the Sage screamed inwardly.
Faster, just a little faster, please—before it's too late!
But his wish went unfulfilled.
Before the Demon King could fall, the vast radiance empowering the Hero and Sage faded away.
And at that very moment, the Demon King's sword pierced the Hero's chest.
The Sage let out a silent scream.
An irrefutably fatal wound.
With the Saintess gone, there was no way to heal it.
The Sage resigned himself to it, but the Hero did not.
Instead of pulling the sword from his chest, the Hero seized the Demon King's hand and drove it deeper.
Deeper, deeper—ensuring the Demon King couldn't withdraw it.
Realizing the Hero's intent, the Sage's eyes widened.
He wanted to stop him, but his body—depleted of stamina and mana to the dregs—lacked even the strength to cry out.
The Hero and Sage's eyes met.
Forcing a smile as if bidding final farewell to a friend, the Hero tightly embraced the Demon King.
Deep blue aura enveloped the Hero and Demon King, soon blooming like a single flower.
The final petal storm, unfurling in wild profusion.
Once even the last drifting petal vanished, the Sage blankly surveyed his surroundings.
Where the Saintess had stood. Her robes lay fluttering there.
Where the Hero had stood. A black helm rolled on the ground, wrapped in blue petals.
Where the soldiers had stood. Countless corpses lay, mutual annihilation with the Demon King's army.
Slowly, so very slowly, the Sage covered his face with both hands.
In the silent ruins.
A sobbing echoed for a very long time.
"I want to express my sincerest gratitude for your dedication and contributions to humanity."