Chapter 39
Chapter 39
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: [Amon Uses Unarmed: Labor Hands]
-----------------------------------------------------------------
A dimensional rift crackling with electric currents tore open behind Amon's back.
From it, she summoned a pair of colossal mechanical hands unlike any ever seen before.
The hands gleamed with pristine white bodies, each finger adorned with rings pulsing with lightning.
They resembled ancient relics, and the moment they appeared, they seized every gaze in the mansion.
Crackle...
Crackle-crackle!
Changes rippled through Amon's body as well.
Lightning began flickering around her delicate frame, soon concentrating in one spot.
Crackle-crackle-crackle...
Atop Amon's small horns, massive lightning-forged horns materialized.
A fraction of her true power was now revealing itself.
Sizzle...
One of the small mechanical hands floating around her pointed its index finger at the marble floor where Faust and the others had gathered, having already moved from the cramped dining room in anticipation of battle.
Crackle-crackle...
The little hand spewed lightning, leaving black scorch marks.
It traced a pitch-black circle, forming a barrier unique to Amon.
Once the jet-black ring was complete, Amon spoke.
“Do not step beyond this circle.”
Holy Knight Mary immediately objected.
“We can’t just... together...”
Amon let out a scoffing laugh.
“If you wish to boast of the folly of burning yourselves in the flames of lightning, then I won’t stop you.”
“......”
Amon’s eyes and aura were utterly different from the serene, cat-like calm she’d shown at Faust’s side until now.
Sensing something ominous in her transformation, Baron Grimhal retreated while pointing at her.
“What are you lot doing? Get rid of those people in front of me, now!”
The baron’s private soldiers numbered in the dozens.
Men pouring out from fourteen carriages, plus the mansion’s servants.
All of them were trained.
Even if Faust judged their training level as mediocre, their sheer numbers pressed down like the weight of their breathing alone.
Thud-thud-thud-!
The masked men surrounded the group in an instant.
The auras emanating from them were all eerily similar—likely because they were all hounds gathered by Grimhal from the start.
Trained the same way, leashed with the same collar; of course their energies matched.
“...Kill them.”
At the command from the leader-like figure at the front, a scarred man around the eyes charged forward with a roar.
Flash-!
Even watching right before their eyes, his presence was faint.
But that was the only impression he left.
Smack-!
Amon’s massive mechanical hand swatted away the man lunging at her from the lead as if swatting a bothersome fly.
Splatter-crunch-!
The mere collision turned the man’s blood to rain and scattered his flesh in all directions.
“Gasp...”
“Ugh...”
The holy knights groaned.
It was that grotesque a sight.
On the other hand, the others merely flinched, showing no further reaction.
They desperately suppressed their fear—the foundation of the hounds’ trained combat instincts.
They surely sensed the unnaturalness too, but if no one charged, the fight couldn’t begin.
It would just open the door to a slaughter.
Huff...
Huff...
Breaths quickened by excitement.
The darkened hall was pitch black, but they were all accustomed to shadows.
No one here needed to carry a torch.
After a stretch of silence, Amon’s voice pierced the darkness.
“If it does not flow, it only rots.”
She grinned mischievously and snapped her fingers.
Snap-!
The enormous mechanical hand floating beside her mimicked the gesture exactly.
Snaaaaaap-!
Sparks erupted from where the fingers met.
Crackle...
Boom-!
A deafening roar unleashed blinding light and lightning from the impact point.
“Arrrghhhh!”
“Gaaah...”
Those nearest the epicenter collapsed, blood streaming from ears and eyes.
Thus, the first line encircling her crumbled pathetically.
What followed silence was not stillness, but panic.
...If we don’t fight, we die!
Veterans of years of training judged in an instant.
That judgment spurred their frozen legs into motion.
Reason overrode fear, driving their bodies toward even the slightest chance of survival.
“Fire! Close in after!”
Flash!
Screeeee-!
Throwing knives and arrows.
The projectiles were all useless.
Crackle-crackle-crackle!
The mechanical hands surrounding her continuously spewed lightning, forming a barrier that dropped every missile to the floor.
...To bring her down, someone had to drive a blade straight into her heart.
Anyone would do—just charge into the flames clutching the grass.
That was the task left to them.
Delay, and they all died.
“Raaagh!”
“Kill!”
Shouts summoned madness.
The battlefield grew ever more frenzied.
Flash...
An assassin clutching a straight sword to his chest charged, resolved to death.
We’ll die together.
This blade... into the demon...
Crackle-crackle...
The massive mechanical hand pulled back, then shot forward toward him.
“Uh...”
An involuntary groan escaped.
The assassin’s vision filled entirely with the palm.
Boom-!
“Eeeek...”
Collision pulverized every bone in his body.
Crunch...
His thinking brain mashed to pulp, the lump of flesh that was once his body became a conduit for Amon’s hurled lightning.
Crackle-crackle-crackle-!
Rumble-rumble-rumble-!
The marble floor shattered along the lightning’s path, retreating even to the walls.
...A feat as if the two words “terror” had taken form.
“Yes...!”
The witch scattering lightning and swinging her giant hands laughed.
“The scent of human blood—it’s been ages. Let me enjoy it a bit more.”
Her sweet voice, like soothing a child, pierced clearly into the enemies’ hearts.
“Ugh... Uwaaaah!”
“Rush in all at once!”
“Don’t give her an inch! Push!”
In this shattered battlefield, at least a usable order rang out.
The large circle of men around her shrank into a small one.
That small circle was a ring of threatening saw blades, each gripping a weapon.
But Amon was lightning incarnate.
Clap-!
She clapped her palms together, and a thunderous ring swept the surroundings.
Rumble-roooooar-!
A corona of lightning expanded outward.
“Arrrghhh...!”
“Grraaaah...”
“Guh-guh-grooo...”
The circle of assassins turned to clumps of charred meat in moments.
Right then, a single blade of triumph slipped behind that black circle.
The mansion’s steward, a former mercenary.
Using the soldiers’ deaths as a springboard, he dove into Amon’s gap.
This beast-like charge evaded even the reach of her giant mechanical hands, so if it connected, it would be devastatingly lethal.
“Die, witch!”
...Yes, if only it connected.
Splat-!
The steward’s vision froze in an instant.
More precisely, the surrounding scenery pushing behind his view suddenly halted.
Creak...
Blocking him was one of the small mechanical hands floating around Amon.
Everything about her was a weapon.
Dodging the big hands didn’t solve the root problem.
It merely led to the same end by a different path.
“Commendable effort.”
“Y-You... monster...”
“...Call it properly.”
Crack...
The mechanical hand snapped the steward’s neck.
“A demon.”
Amon swung her hand.
Crackle-crackle-!
“Gaaahhh!”
As she pointed downward, the giant hand crushed the soldiers from above.
Boom-!
“R-Run...”
“Guh... guh...”
Even in the lightless space, each swing of her hand revealed fragmentary horrors.
Heehee...
Ahahaha!
Massacre.
Nothing but massacre.
Crackle-crackle...!
The flashes and slaughter continued until no more screams rang out.
......
And for a brief moment, silence reigned.
Crash!
Was it summoned by Amon, or heaven’s wrath at the river of blood?
Lightning flashed across the sky, briefly illuminating the mansion after the quiet.
In that fleeting light lay black char and mangled meat strewn everywhere.
Only one man remained, fainting from terror.
“No way... this... right, it’s a dream...”
Baron Grimhal stood midway up the stairs from the hall to the second floor, barely holding himself upright with glazed, madness-filled eyes.
No one left to obey—no, even hear—his commands.
Swoosh...
Amon slowly ascended the stairs.
“Hii... hiiiik... d-don’t come closer! Demon... demon? Yes! H-Hey! Adelia! She’s a demon! A demon! You—stand against this demon!”
“......”
The holy knights under her turned their attention to Adelia’s lips.
If she called for the demon’s execution, they’d have to intervene in this nightmare of a scene.
They’d have to cross that shallow lifeline, the black circle, of their own accord.
“Demons are the church’s enemy! That’s undeniable! Hurry...”
“I...”
She raised both hands to cover her eyes.
“...saw nothing tonight.”
“You’ll... pay! Hypocrite! A demon’s right there... Gah...”
One massive mechanical hand crept closer, seizing Baron Grimhal’s body.
And slowly...
No match for the agony given to his dying victims, but it granted him a torturous death.
“Guh... s-so... tight... can’t... breathe...”
Squish-!
As the hand gripped him, bones and flesh crushed with a sound, blood spurting between the fingers.
Blood everywhere.
Scent and traces alike.
Even the baron’s portrait adorning the central hall was splattered with its master’s blood.
The moon-hidden-in-clouds night of slaughter ended there.
Creeeak...
Amon, massacre complete, leaned her hips against the mansion staircase railing and sat.
Snap-!
She snapped her fingers, and lightning bolts grazed several of the mansion’s torches as they passed.
Whoosh...
A few torches ignited, lighting the hall.
Making reality impossible to ignore.
Tonight, a demon had killed humans here.
Dozens of lives lost.
This horrific scene laid bare the gap between an averagely trained human and a demon.
Heehee...
Amon, her hair frizzed from static, wore a lively smile.
How many ages had this primordial archdemon breathed alone in such asuras’ fields?
“...Now do you understand why one must possess violence no one can rival?”
At Amon’s words, Faust recalled their black market conversation.
—Violence is just an efficient means.
To Faust’s words, she had replied:
—Well said. Just remember that this efficient means can control nearly every situation.
It wasn’t absolute truth.
Values that could change endlessly.
And yet...
“Well, for tonight.”
At least tonight, her words felt like gospel.
Siiiile...
Amon beamed innocently, like a child praised.
Beautiful.
In no way resembling the demon who wrought this slaughter.
Swoosh...
Faust forcibly tore his gaze from the beautiful demon and turned to the saintess.
How would she judge this massacre?
Adelia bowed her head deeply and said,
“Beth has given me a grave task tonight.”
[Assistance reward has been adjusted.]
[Reward: 12,000 top-grade magic stones.]