Existence Washing

The black mage thrashed in desperation. "Anti-Gravity Field."

Violet mana rippled across the floor. Thud. At the same moment, Leon stamped his foot once.

"...!!"

"No—!"

"What the hell is this…."

Boom. Gravity vanished, and the legless black mages shot upward in unison. They spun helplessly in the air, unable to find their balance. Concentrating to cast spells was out of the question; most of them were still reeling from the agony of their severed limbs.

"Hero…!!!" the old crone screamed, veins bulging in her neck. But her cry never reached Leon’s heart.

"Yes, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I am the hero. And that—"

Sword, magic, divinity. In any single discipline he had not yet reached the absolute peak, yet wielding all three at Master rank was a feat only he could perform on the entire continent. Because he was the Hero. The one who worked miracles and punished evil.

"That is why you die."

Swish. His blade moved. Slashslashslashslash— A single straight line cut through the air, yet countless slashes rained down on the black mages. Some were shredded in real time like rotting rags, losing all shape. Only the old crone and two exceptionally lucky survivors remained intact. The rest stopped being human in moments.

"Anti-Gravity Field, release."

Leon sheathed his sword and muttered the command. The spell dissolved; corpses thudded to the ground like sacks of meat. The falling blood and chunks of flesh resembled a monsoon of rain mixed with hail.

Leon did not dodge the spray. He walked straight through it, leaving crimson footprints in his wake.

"How dare you—"

"Shut up."

He kicked the jaw of the malice-filled old crone. She should have fainted, but the holy power inside her refused to let her lose consciousness. She came to again, eyes wide.

"…Heh heh. How amusing. The plan has already been executed."

He smiled at Leon, revealing a mouth of crooked teeth that made his face even more grotesque. Lucy turned away with a wet gag.

"That whore… Because of bitches like you… I…!"

Black Night guild. One of the Seven Dark Mages. Karanz the Necromancer.

He had been born with a hideous face. Crooked teeth, bulging eyes, skin that looked melted off the bone. Simply existing had earned him his father’s hatred and the villagers’ scorn.

I tried so hard to win their favor, yet—

"Stop reminiscing, you fucking bastard."

"Urk!"

Leon planted a foot on Karanz’s struggling back, pinning him to the floor. The surviving black mages had lost all will to fight. They trembled and soiled themselves as they stared at him.

"Heh heh… A prohibition has been placed on me anyway. There is no information you can wring from them!"

"Oh, really?"

"…!"

Without hesitation Leon sliced the necks of the two useless prisoners. Heads and bodies parted before they even realized they had been cut; they collapsed with terror still etched on their faces.

"You don’t even hesitate…!"

"Do you hesitate when you step on a cockroach?"

Leon looked down at Karanz with the expression of a man wondering what to do next. That grotesquely aged face still had the power to ignite fresh rage every time he saw it.

"…Shall we try torture?"

With the casters gone, Lucy was freed from her restraints and stepped to his side. The shocking massacre had passed, yet she recovered quickly—perhaps because she came from the back alleys.

"No. There’s a prohibition, remember? This bastard won’t be any different. They never are."

"You know too much! Just kill him!"

"I’d rather not."

"GYAAAAAH…!!"

Heat surged from the sole of Leon’s boot. Steam hissed out as he forced mana and aura to collide—one of the miscellaneous techniques he had invented.

"Then… what about the magic you used on that Vincent man? Turn him into a living puppet for confession?"

"That’s difficult too. The spell wasn’t designed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for it, and it wouldn’t solve the root problem of the prohibition."

"…So we’re stuck either way."

While they spoke, Karanz gripped his staff tightly and calculated his spell. This place—drenched in blood and corpses, saturated with grief and pain—was the perfect workshop for a black mage.

You let your guard down, Hero! Lowest seat or not, I am one of the Seven Dark Mages. I will not fall so easily…!

"…Hero!"

Blood scattered across the floor began to boil. Torn corpses tangled together, forming grotesque shapes that swirled around the two freshly killed men.

"I am… one of the Seven Dark Mages, the Necromancer Karanz…!!"

"Tsk. Looks like I have no choice but to use that method."

Yet Leon seemed utterly unconcerned with whatever sorcery the man might unleash. He only pondered how to extract information, then lightly snapped his fingers. The swirling blood and flesh lost all power and collapsed back to the floor.

"What…?"

It was like a gale that had blown fiercely only to die in an instant.

"If you’re going to practice black sorcery, you should have at least learned some proper black magic first."

From the region of Leon’s heart, brilliant golden flames flowed outward and coalesced into a floating sphere. The warm light filled the cavern, making it feel as though a small sun had descended.

"GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAH—!!!!!"

Karanz convulsed in unspeakable agony.

"This is…"

"Just a mass of holy power. Don’t overthink it."

Lucy stared, momentarily entranced by its beauty, then turned to Leon. He gazed at the flickering flames with clear displeasure before grabbing Karanz by the scruff of his neck as the man writhed like a worm.

Leon was a hero, but he had never particularly liked the goddess. When he had first been chosen and assembled his party, he had felt gratitude. After all, she had selected him. He had even wondered whether the being who pulled him from a dull modern world into a romantic fantasy might have been her.

That changed after he reached the front lines and witnessed the Holy Kingdom’s true nature. Was she truly a god?

If so, why does she fatten the bellies of pigs while ignoring those who freeze to death in the cold wind?

From that day on he had grown skeptical of holy power except for the simplest healing spells. It wasn’t that he lacked skill—he simply did not want to use it. He wanted to save the world using only his own human strength: aura and magic.

…But I cannot let personal feelings ruin everything.

The duty of a hero, the need to save even more lives, constantly obstructed that wish.

"Krrgh…!"

Just like the sun of divinity floating above, brilliant flames spread from Leon’s palm where he gripped Karanz’s neck. The man’s entire body was soon engulfed, radiating pure white light.

"Isn’t it hot?"

"It doesn’t burn people."

"Then what does it burn?"

"Demonic energy."

A power created solely to annihilate the demon race. The holy bonfire. A high-level holy art and a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠kind of divine authority that Leon had forged himself.

"Ah~ So you’re burning away the prohibition?"

At Lucy’s guess he shook his head regretfully. Her eyes sparkled with even greater curiosity.

"I’m doing something far greater."

"Greater?"

"Existence Washing."

One of the techniques using the holy bonfire was precisely what Karanz was experiencing now. Leon had faced many black mages allied with the demon kings. They interfered constantly and praised demonic rule.

It was troublesome when my power was still weak.

He had even been driven to the brink of death by their attacks once.

…Of course, that would not have happened if Airen had fought properly.

While dealing with them, a question had arisen: what if he burned not only their demonic energy but also their link to the demons and the very records left in their souls?

"Gurgh…"

Karanz’s body went limp inside the flames.

"Huh?! Shouldn’t you avoid that?"

"No. The important part starts now."

Leon withdrew his hand, clasped both palms together, and closed his eyes. Even Lucy could sense the depth of his concentration.

What he gathered with such focus was the ash. The ash produced by burning everything of Karanz through Existence Washing and scattering it into the air. Normally, burning a black mage left only an empty shell stripped of memory and ego.

He had thought the effort hardly worth the result until a Sword Master he met on the front lines suggested gathering the remnants.

And the result was rather interesting.

The ash was the purified essence of the black mage’s existence. By carefully collecting and shaping it, Leon could extract fragmented memories.

It was an extremely useful technique against black mages who loved placing prohibitions on memory and speech.

"Whoa…"

As Leon poured layer after layer of concentration into the task, the sun of divinity vanished. A small bead sparkling with pure white light fell. He picked it up at once and—

"Mm?"

Dropped it straight into Lucy’s mouth. He had zero desire to read the memories of a worm like a black mage.

"Uup! Uuu… Huh?!"

He kept her mouth covered so she couldn’t spit it out. Moments later Lucy’s eyes widened in shock and she stared at him with trembling pupils.

"…Why?"

"Hero, that… that was…"

After listening to Lucy’s explanation, Leon left the captives in the cavern to her care. With an expression like a man possessed by a vengeful ghost, he strode out of the cavern.

The Seven Dark Mages of the Black Night guild existed in an atmosphere of constant mutual restraint. They were comrades, yet also rivals striving to expand their own power.

Among them, Karanz the Necromancer—who had barely clawed his way into the lowest seat—had been growing anxious ever since the hero returned to the capital. News had reached him that the demon king’s army had paused its advance.

From his position as one who served the demons, this was unwelcome. He had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠also heard rumors that the other Seven Dark Mages were using the lull to launch operations that would earn them favor with high-ranking demons.

Therefore Karanz resolved to execute the plan he had long prepared. It would coincide perfectly with the capital’s festival.

Summon a demon. Let that demon commit massacre. Then use the resulting grudges, corpses, and the demon itself as sacrifices to summon an even stronger one. Repeat the process, calling ever higher beings. The Ring of Blood.

It was a sorcery he had obtained from an orb that granted knowledge of the demon realm in exchange for thousands of lives.

The activation conditions were extremely demanding, but if successfully triggered it could unleash true catastrophe. The most difficult ingredient required was an object that had basked in the hero’s holy power for a long time….

And the spy sent to gather information on the hero—Vincent—had conveniently obtained and delivered exactly that.

Karanz had been told that the party’s Divine Archer, Serin, was quite the airhead. When asked, she had simply handed over the bracelet she herself had once given the hero.

The plan had moved forward without a hitch. The only worry was that the first or second summoned demon might be exterminated too quickly. After all, the cycle required a proper massacre to ascend to higher entities.

During the capital’s festival, troops would be heavily concentrated. The Ashen Scales’ noble district branch had solved that problem. The nobles, for their own various reasons, had dispersed military forces and drawn Sword Masters away from the festival grounds. It was clear that black-mage pawns had already infiltrated the empire’s leadership.

The final variable was the hero himself. So Karanz completed every preparation for the sorcery and simply waited for the hero’s location to be confirmed. Then, on the verge of death and seeing no other choice, he activated the Ring of Blood.

…That was the full story Leon heard from Lucy’s lips.

At the first light of dawn, Leon became a meteor shower tearing across the sky.

Damn it…!

He prayed he would not be too late.