Chapter 450: Conquest of the Demon Realm (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 450: Conquest of the Demon Realm (5)
It was a truly fleeting moment.
The sequence of events—Pibir releasing his stealth, revealing himself, and unleashing his authority—unfolded in the blink of an eye. It was a speed beyond the realm of human reaction. Even if his target had been a powerhouse like Belzert, Pibir was certain that no one short of the Demon King himself could have reacted perfectly.
And yet...
"Aaargh! Aaack!"
Pibir screamed, stumbling backward.
He collapsed to the ground, a searing pain radiating from his chest. His trembling eyes took in his mangled torso. Blood gushed out in torrents. His exposed breastbone was partially shattered, the bone fragments puncturing his internal organs, while shards of Aura embedded in his flesh delivered a burning agony.
"Ugh..."
A ragged groan escaped his lips. He had absolutely no idea what had just happened.
He had precisely targeted the exact moment Roman Dmitry was cutting down a demonic creature, yet the reality he faced was his own body being torn to shreds. The truth was glaringly obvious. Roman Dmitry hadn't failed to detect his stealth. He had known all along, but simply ignored it, perfectly confident that he could react in time.
It was then.
Looking up, Pibir saw a blade plunging straight down toward his head.
I'm going to die.
"Dark Shield!"
Crash!
Shatter.
He survived by a hair's breadth.
Belzert's magic, cast from afar, intercepted the strike. In the split second the Dark Shield shattered, Pibir threw himself backward to escape. Every desperate movement sent a jolt of agony through his chest. Realizing he would bleed out at this rate, Pibir fiercely grabbed the heads of the lesser demonic creatures swarming around him with both hands.
Squeeze.
"Blood Drain."
Gurgle.
He greedily sucked their blood.
The demonic creatures shriveled into husks in an instant. As he absorbed their vitality, the gaping wound on his chest began to knit back together. Yet, even as he crawled on the ground like a beaten dog, he couldn't fully accept this reality. When he had accepted the Demon King's command, he never imagined he would be forced to use Blood Drain to survive against a mere human.
Rage flared within him.
But the moment he turned his head to launch an angry counterattack, Pibir felt his entire body freeze.
Splurt.
"Screeech!"
"Squeal!"
Demonic creatures were being torn apart by the dozens.
As soon as Pibir had fled, the horde of demonic creatures had surged forward to block the path, while Belzert's black magic bombarded Roman Dmitry from a distance. Yet, none of it worked. Roman unleashed his Aura, cleanly slicing through Belzert's black magic, and slaughtered every single demonic creature in his way as he marched directly toward Pibir.
Just a moment ago, upon hearing that Roman Dmitry was approaching alone, Pibir had smirked and scoffed. "There are only two possibilities here. Either the humans are so foolish that they can't even fathom our strength, or they are trying to pull something off while Roman Dmitry draws our attention. Isn't it pathetic? To think they can survive the Demon Realm by playing petty mind games."
He had been different from Belzert. Belzert had worn a grim expression, and Pibir couldn't understand why he was taking it so seriously. After all, the opponent was just a human. If the human couldn't handle the endless horde of demonic creatures, he wouldn't survive no matter what tricks he tried to pull.
And now...
Splurt.
Blood sprayed into the air.
The moment Pibir's eyes met Roman Dmitry's, the human's cold voice pierced his ears.
"Are you the 2nd Legion Commander, Pibir?"
Goosebumps erupted all over his body.
It was clear now. This bastard really intended to slaughter the entire massive horde of demonic creatures all by himself.
* * *
The Rear Guard.
In truth, the term "Rear Guard" was almost embarrassing. All the forces except Roman Dmitry were merely trailing behind, walking along the blood-soaked path he had already cleared.
It was a moment of complex emotions for the soldiers. In the world they lived in, rulers were typically those who sat back and handed down orders. Yet Roman Dmitry, despite being the Emperor, stood at the very vanguard.
Far ahead, beyond their line of sight, a brutal battle was unfolding. Thinking of it, no one could bring themselves to slow their pace.
As they marched, Isabelle asked Chris, "Is this really the right thing to do?"
Roman Dmitry's strategy was undeniably reckless.
When he had declared he would shoulder the danger alone, Isabelle had been the one arguing against it until the very end of the strategy meeting. By now, she knew what kind of man Roman Dmitry was. She knew he was a strong, unyielding warrior who never retreated and never allowed a single compromise. But the problem was that their opponents were not human.
Chris replied, "I worry for my liege just as much. However, I simply trust the decision he has made."
His heart, too, was burning with frustration.
Being ordered to lead the Rear Guard meant that, against the horrors of the Demon Realm, they were deemed incapable of playing a greater role.
It angered him. It wounded his pride. He wanted to stand by Roman's side even if it cost him his life, but his past experiences suppressed those impulsive emotions.
"I have experienced countless battlefields with His Majesty, Emperor Roman Dmitry. He has always led us to victory in wars where the odds were impossibly stacked against us, and that is how Dmitry earned the title of Empire. But do you know what the truly funny thing is? Even I, who believes I know His Majesty better than anyone, have never once seen him exert his full strength. The enemies whom the world deemed impossible to defeat were merely opponents against whom His Majesty didn't even need to test his limits. That is why I follow him, even when I do not understand."
Chris gripped his sword tightly.
Knowing what they could do, and what they could not do. Those words, which he had once spoken to Hans, formed the core mindset that all of Dmitry's people had to share.
"We believe in our liege. If he gives an order, there is a reason for it. No matter how many enemies lie ahead, I do not believe our lord will fall. So, Saintess, leave it at that. Even if this choice plunges us straight into the abyss of ruin, the people of Dmitry will carry out our lord's command."
It was an incredible display of resolve.
Isabelle swallowed her remaining doubts. Now, she felt like she finally understood. She understood why the people of Dmitry followed Roman Dmitry so blindly.
He was different from her.
Looking at this powerful existence who did not hesitate to shoulder the ultimate burden alone, even she, who had only known him for a short time, felt a deep, instinctual trust in Roman Dmitry. She believed in him. She believed he could handle the trials ahead. If so, what she and the others had to do from now on was to execute his orders perfectly.
"Everyone, draw your weapons!"
Clank! Clank!
Chris gave the signal. The remnants of the demonic creature horde finally came into view.
Looking at the mangled corpses of demonic creatures scattered everywhere, the soldiers of the Continental Allied Forces marched with eyes burning with determination. Roman Dmitry would be at the end of this path. The surviving demonic creatures spotted them and turned their way.
If so...
"Follow His Majesty, Emperor Roman Dmitry! All forces, attack!"
"Charge!"
"For Dmitry!"
There was no reason to hesitate. They advanced. Led by Chris, the soldiers of the Continental Allied Forces rushed fiercely toward the demonic creatures in the distance.
* * *
During the Era of Great Chaos, before they had been forced to kneel before the Demon King, the Legion Commanders, including Pibir, had each boasted an immense presence.
Belzert of black magic.
Pibir, the ruler of blood.
And Babel of monstrous strength.
Belzert had slaughtered hundreds of thousands of demonic creatures with his black magic alone, while there was no being Pibir could not kill with his absolute authority over blood. Babel was a monster that completely transcended the physical limits of demonic creatures. Having established their respective domains of power, they only accepted the title of Legion Commander when the Demon King—an existence they dared not challenge—finally appeared.
They possessed immense pride. Though they had been defeated by the Demon King, they firmly believed that no one else could ever match them.
And now, that pride was being shattered to pieces.
Watching Roman Dmitry pursue him relentlessly, Pibir felt like he was losing his mind.
"Blood Rain!"
Whoosh!
Thwip-thwip-thwip!
He sprayed blood in all directions. The blood, drawn from the corpses of the fallen demonic creatures, transformed into hundreds of crimson spikes, raining down on Roman Dmitry. Pibir had once defeated a high-ranking demon with this single technique. It was a truly devastating attack designed to pierce the target's entire body, yet it was completely useless against Roman Dmitry.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Every single spike was deflected.
Roman Dmitry parried Pibir's attacks one by one, and in the midst of the barrage, casually sliced the neck of a lunging demonic creature.
Splurt.
Blood splattered outward. He had killed so many demonic creatures that his jet-black hair appeared dyed in crimson. At that exact moment, Belzert's magic erupted. Dark Mana swirled violently, calling black lightning down upon Roman Dmitry's head.
Flash!
Rumble!
One against many. It was an overwhelmingly disadvantageous environment.
In a situation where it would only make sense for him to fall, Roman Dmitry instead charged forward, piercing straight through the storm of magic.
Boom!
Slash!
The bodies of demonic creatures were torn apart. Roman Dmitry rapidly closed the distance to Pibir, instantly slaughtering any beings foolish enough to block his path.
Demonic creatures had grades. In the hierarchy divided into highest, high, intermediate, and low grades, the highest-grade demonic creatures could not be ignored. Their sheer physical capabilities made them lethal, even if they lacked special authorities.
Yet, the necks of dozens of such highest-grade demonic creatures were severed in a single breath.
Those who had rushed to pounce on Roman Dmitry collapsed, stumbling to the ground without achieving a single thing.
Thud.
Rumble.
Pibir's face turned completely pale. No attack, no method worked. The monster named Roman Dmitry standing before him was simply too much to handle.
He is an existence on par with the Demon King. We can never defeat him on our own.
He felt a vast, insurmountable gap between them. Just as he had been forced to his knees in a mere thirty seconds when facing the Demon King, he was absolutely certain Roman Dmitry was an existence of the exact same caliber. Belzert's earlier warning belatedly came to mind. Come to think of it, Belzert didn't seem to be exerting his full strength right now.
[Lord Belzert. We must report to the Demon King and retreat immediately. He is not someone we can handle.]
Pibir urgently sent a mental transmission.
Through the connection in his mind, Belzert's cold reply came back.
[I forbid it. Why do you think the Demon King sent us? He wishes to test Roman Dmitry right now. To see exactly how powerful he is, and if he is worthy of the Demon King stepping forward himself. Therefore, we must not retreat until his command is given. Disobedience will surely lead to death.]
"Damn it!"
He realized it too late. Belzert. That bastard had known the truth all along. That was why he had pushed Pibir to the forefront, using him as a sacrificial pawn to gauge Roman Dmitry's strength first.
Squelch.
Blood splattered right in front of him. Looking at the tearing flesh of his demonic meat shields, Pibir realized he couldn't survive by simply running away. He had to land a decisive blow somehow.
He was Pibir, the 2nd Legion Commander! He, who had brought down monsters that once shook the Demon Realm, could not allow himself to be killed by a mere human in his own domain!
Whoosh!
Rumble!
He unleashed every drop of his magic power. As the explosive energy enveloped him, Pibir's eyes were dyed a glowing crimson.
"Bloo— cough."
Flash.
His eyes widened. It was too late.
Before he could even fully manifest his authority, Roman Dmitry's sword cleanly severed his head.
* * *
It was an overwhelming sight.
Following Babel, even Pibir had been helplessly defeated. Roman Dmitry averted his gaze from Pibir's severed head rolling on the ground and looked up at Belzert in the distance.
"Does the Demon King intend to stay hidden until all of you are dead?"
Nowhere could the presence of the Demon King be felt. Roman swept back his blood-stained hair and, with a perfectly calm face, began walking toward Belzert.
"Then I have no choice but to kill you all."
Whoosh!
Rumble!
He charged. With Roman changing his target, Belzert, who had been quietly watching the sequence of events, grimaced.
This is dangerous.
Just as Pibir had suspected, Belzert had intentionally held back. It was partly to gauge Roman Dmitry's strength, and partly because even if Pibir died, there were always ways to replace him. The real problem was that Roman Dmitry was far stronger than expected. Realizing that even a moment's carelessness could lead to his death without putting up a fight, Belzert unleashed his full power.
"Roman Dmitry! I admit you are strong, but you will never be a match for the Demon King! Revival!"
Rumble!
"Aaargh!"
"Grrr..."
Dark magic power spread like a plague. The corpses that had been torn limb from limb rose once more. Among them was Pibir, his dead eyes flashing with a sinister crimson glow. In an instant, countless undead demonic creatures materialized along Roman Dmitry's path. They threw their broken bodies forward to block him. Even if hundreds were slaughtered, thousands more blindly filled the gaps to obstruct his way.
At the same time...
Rumble!
Belzert fully opened his Circles. He completely assimilated himself with the ambient energy of the Demon Realm.
To think I would have to use this.
During the Era of Great Chaos, Belzert had been the one who resisted the Demon King until the very end. Though he eventually knelt, unlike the others who simply accepted reality, he had always worried that he might be killed at any moment by the Demon King's passing whim.
The authority of black magic. He had honed it to its absolute limit. Preparing for the day he might finally turn against the Demon King, he had readied a hidden weapon of his own to land a fatal blow.
Yet, even after Pibir's death, the Demon King did not appear. Since the Demon King had made his intentions clear through his silence, Belzert unleashed his ultimate power just to survive.
"Death."
The ultimate spell of death. His magic power exploded outward.
Roman Dmitry faced the apocalyptic spectacle head-on. Confronted by an immense magic power that seemed ready to swallow the world, Roman Dmitry instead felt his heart race with sheer excitement.
How much can you handle?
Shepir. The strike that had killed him. Back then and now were entirely different. If he had used it from the Earth Stage back then, now he had reached the Realm of Heaven.
Roman Dmitry gripped his sword tightly. The distance between him and Belzert was still vast, but that did not matter.
Step.
The eighth step. His internal magic power boiled over explosively.
With his Aura erupting like an active volcano, Roman Dmitry swung his sword.
Heavenly Demon Sword Technique - Latter Half Second Form.
Flash.
He sincerely hoped that Belzert would manage to block this attack.
And entertain him just a little bit longer.