The Demon's Aberration
Maness lifted his head. A cloudless sky stretched endlessly, the pure blue meeting the horizon. Two mirages shimmered in the air, one crowned by the sun like a halo—a demon radiating an intense will to incinerate everything on the earth.
“...Quite the amusing trick.”
Timeo, exuding murderous intent from every pore, chuckled softly. His body, halted by overwhelming force, began to twitch slowly, as if nothing in the world could restrain him. Not even the laws of this realm.
Insufficient.
Maness read the bindings that failed to hold the crimson beast. A command was meant for inferiors. Even temporarily restraining such a being bordered on the miraculous.
Five demons reigned at the pinnacle of the demon realm—existences that could erase nations single-handedly.
[Fall.]
⟨ Word Magic ⟩
The next incantation rang out. Timeo’s body, breaking free, plummeted straight to the ground at a speed too fast for the eye to follow.
Boom—
Maness shielded his face with his arm from the flying debris and shifted his gaze to Amanewt. Her expression and posture had sharpened far beyond before, as if she wielded her hypersensitive senses with exquisite precision. Her mind, immersed in the world, poured entirely into this single demon.
Assimilation?
He’d heard of it once. Highly skilled spiritists became closer to spirits than humans in an instant. Amanewt, interfering with the world through Word Magic, seemed no different.
No.
Maness’s thoughts progressed gradually. Similar, but more refined. The structure of the incoming incantation felt fundamentally different from a spiritist’s.
...One with it.
She was no longer a mere component of the world. She was a part of it—everything standing, seen, and felt right now.
Shiiik—
The sound of wind slicing cut through his thoughts. A beast erupted from the thick dust, its massive fangs aimed to crush prey. The swung greatsword traced an uncanny speed, almost drawing a single plane.
Clang—
The blade clashed against an invisible mana wall, erupting in light and a burst of sound. The collision of power, separated by a hair’s breadth between palm and edge, overwhelmed even onlookers.
“Foolish human. You know this resistance is futile?!”
With a roar that evoked terror, more force poured into the sword. Amanewt’s feet dragged lines in the ground under the pressure. An overwhelming disparity in strength. Yet the lord of the desert, guardian of a great dynasty, showed no tremor.
Shring—
Spears and swords drawn from statues lining the buildings. Maness sensed mana intervening in the process—a refined manipulation akin to guiding the earth dragon, but far more polished.
[Pierce.]
⟨ Word Magic ⟩
The airborne blades surged forward. Their movements danced like a coordinated performance, relentlessly tracking Timeo as he dodged and retreated, as if coordinates locked onto the designated foe.
A realm beyond imagination.
But what captivated Maness’s eyes was something else. Was that the movement of a living being? No matter how trained a swordsman, they’d falter after a few steps and meet death. The monster parried the relentless assault meant to sever its lifeline with deafening clashes, defying the natural order.
It shouldn’t have been possible. It mustn’t be. Yet it was. A natural disaster named demon.
Seizing the moment Timeo focused on defense, Amanewt touched the ground. Sand erupted, forming two human shapes. Giants of sand, guardians of sun and desert, wielded spears and shields of gold-infused grains.
[Perish.]
⟨ Word Magic ⟩
Amid the fading flurry of weapons dancing their blade ballet, a gold spear hurtled toward the target. A hit wouldn’t end in mere scratches. Timeo seemed unable to evade the persistent blade.
Or so it appeared. If not for the smile Maness glimpsed in an instant.
Boom—
A wave of echoes crashed, dust billowing thickly. The disoriented particles soon followed a guidepost—straight from Amanewt’s extended arm. At her fingertip swung a massive storm.
The sandstorm ground everything in its path. As it swelled, expanding its domain, the incantation caster spread her arms wide, then gradually narrowed the gap. In response, the storm compressed around the target. Each grain a razor blade. Magic imbued with the will to leave no trace.
Shatter—
But a demon was aberration incarnate. The greatsword pierced the storm, hurtling toward Amanewt’s head. As if within expectations, a giant’s shield intercepted, impaling the blade.
Human foresight was vast, boundless. Yet imagining a demon breaching a sandstorm was hard enough; seeing it grin in delight was utterly incomprehensible.
“...Pierced the storm, huh.”
Timeo yanked the sword from the gold shield, cleaved the giant, and his eyes gleamed maniacally. An unavoidable end. A sight evoking awe in witnesses.
“You’ll end up...”
Another giant’s shield smashed down. Futile resistance. Timeo had vanished mid-air, poised behind his prey to deliver finality.
“...no different from any ordinary human?”
Amanewt’s head, shoulders, and waist turned in sequence. No chance to look back—the greatsword sliced air toward her. Very slowly. Deliberately so.
Experiencing the sequence through every sense, Maness slipped into heightened awareness. Inhuman yet real events. A chain of scenes hard to accept distanced a young man from the ordinary.
His lips moved. Within the world. A step beyond ingrained common sense.
Just two. Himself and the demon. Or perhaps one—the demon alone.
In the encroaching silence. Unaware even of his sense of self crumbling.
Maness uttered a single word.
[Stop.]
⟨ Word Magic ⟩
It stopped.
Only Timeo froze under the coercive force. Yet the anomalous moment birthed a silence as if the world itself halted.
“...Guhk!”
Maness, reclaiming his submerged thoughts, gasped for air. Everything around warped and rippled. The price of a mere human encroaching forbidden realms was heavy indeed.
This is...
An unintended manifestation. Perhaps instinctual. No time to analyze.
“Hah, hah...”
Half-collapsed, retching, Maness raised his head. Not to assess the next moment. Not to prepare. Simply to identify the shadow draping his chaotic vision.
To confront the familiar silhouette.
Predator.
The demon glared down, a mere handspan away, its mere presence reducing all humans to prey.
“You... human?”
The one who’d spared him even a glance now posed an absurd question. Maness needed no deliberation. No room for thought, nor reason for courtesy.
This space was illusion, manifested solely for him. Being swayed by phantoms of the past was contradiction itself.
“What’re you on about, you monster fuck.”
So he grinned. Just as the demon bared its blood-mad glee in laughter.
A brief emotional exchange. The crouching demon mirrored the twisted smile, then rose.
What followed was inevitable. Predator and prey—the script was set.
The greatsword swung down from behind.
*
“Truly astonishing. Only natural, perhaps, for one who reached this far.”
Maness, sprawled and catching his breath, opened his eyes to the calm, chilling voice.
The chamber reached via magic circle. Amanewt’s lich abode remained steeped in silence.
“...Illusion magic, then.”
“Illusion?”
Amanewt countered his faint query with her own.
“Never heard of magic called that.”
“I see.”
“At least in my era, we didn’t categorize magic so rigidly. Time has standardized it, I suppose.”
Having steadied his breath, Maness propped up his torso as upon first arrival. Amanewt’s form seemed faintly more translucent now.
“Humans prioritize efficiency, after all.”
“You speak as if you’re not human yourself.”
“Do I look human to you now?”
Maness couldn’t answer immediately. A lich transcended humanity.
“If you see me that way, I’m grateful.”
Amanewt gave a wry smile. Maness had anticipated as much, more or less. Otherwise, their talk would brim only with sorrow.
“Time is short. To the point.”
“...So it wasn’t my imagination.”
“The inheritance is complete.”
While Maness delved into the distant past, the process had concluded. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have wielded Word Magic directly—a fact he’d half-guessed.
“A body sustained by mana alone—once depleted, dissolution is natural.”
Maness offered silence as reverence to the being facing oblivion.
The reason inheritance demanded vast mana. Skipping learning to reach imprinting required unimaginable power. Unique magic was one’s entire life. Transmitting it whole meant ending that life.
“So, what did you think? From direct experience.”
Two questions at once: on the demon and Word Magic.
“You knew the demons would return?”
“I heard from the eyes, ears, and mouth of prophecy. Just as I knew you’d reach here.”
The three prophets, called God’s proxies. Humanity’s faith in them absolute.
“No need to doubt my slight glimpse of the future. You’re convinced yourself.”
Rather, how do you know of the demons’ return?
Amanewt withheld the question from her successor.
“Faith in fate’s mysteries paves communication. Between us.”
Maness nodded. Mutual enigmas cloaked in mystery. Doubts held no meaning.
“Didn’t seem like something we could oppose.”
Thus, he voiced his impression of Timeo.
“Yet your presence proves humans prevailed.”
“Couldn’t fathom how.”
Humans of the past overcame adversity; those of the future would too. Known facts. Yet the terror experienced firsthand bred doubt. Perhaps the fated future was illusion. Much like Maness Pictri at Snowrobe.
“And?”
And?
The prompt drew an unwitting smile from Maness—a phrase hounding him since entering this world.
And what’ll you do?
“Fuck it, I’ll give it a shot. Can’t just sit around wasting time.”
Solve problems as they arise. Prepare for destined ones. No reason to shun simple certainty.
“A spirited reply.”
Potentially irresponsible, but satisfying for Amanewt. She’d endured ages of patience for an uncertain future, knowing results demand process better than most.
“Now, on Word Magic—what say you?”
The true crux. The reason Maness endured every hardship to meet the desert lord. A power demanding aftereffects dwarfing boundary-crossing.
His impression was concise.
“Felt like I was gonna die.”