Welcome (2)

From between my lips flowed a voice that transcended composure—arrogant, even.

"Creature not even worthy of a garden pest."

Grandfell was always merciless toward demons. But lately, didn't his rhetoric seem even harsher...?

Back in the day, he would've stopped at "pest." But "not even worthy of a garden pest"?

It couldn't just be disappointment in the demon's behavior preventing kinder words. Grandfell's treatment of demons had never risen from rock bottom, not even for a moment.

So there was only one possibility.

...His prime temperament is truly something else.

Curse, Darkness Understanding. The understanding of Grandfell that had risen through it was making my loose tongue even pricklier, even more like that era.

Even without activation, that 10% understanding doesn't just vanish.

Suddenly, the thought crossed my mind.

Darkness Understanding. And what would happen if its linked Heaven and Earth Sole Respect proficiency reached 100%?

It wouldn't just be my hair starting to shimmer.

I quickly shook off the thought.

...No, not now.

I didn't have the luxury for such vain worries. The stench wafting from the demon before me was far too revolting.

Still, it didn't betray expectations, as always.

Great Evil, Seven Deadly Sins—Lust.

"How... how are you here...?"

A shocked expression. It must not have realized I'd crossed to the Arcana Continent with the players.

It was a massive event, after all. The media had hyped it up endlessly.

The Holy War Alliance. Whether the pride they harbored in their hearts remained unchanged, even I couldn't know.

But most players belonged to the Holy War Alliance. As its supreme commander, I needed to oversee their entry into the continent.

After all, the Arcana Continent was more dangerous than any rift.

Even the Sky's Demon Eye alone proves that.

The first players to enter the Arcana Continent? They could panic without ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shame. The continent's current state was utterly unlike what they knew.

Unlike the early Arcana Continent days, there was no friendly tutorial.

They must have thought they needed my help.

But they were wrong. Prior engagement. Everything has priorities.

"I have not forgotten for even a moment."

"...What do you mean by that?"

"The fact that you live and breathe upon this land."

Grandfell's grudges. Especially toward demons, they easily surpassed expectations.

Ever since facing the hybrid demon Gre Mory, I hadn't overlooked the existence that shared blood with her—Lust—for even a second.

So I lightly raised my palm.

"Pests drawn to the garden by its fragrance desperately try to escape the palm. Yet you do not even pretend to flee from mine. Unless..."

The disparagement continued, as expected.

"You lack even the awareness to realize you are within it."

"...!"

"Being lesser than a pest."

Had its great evil pride been scratched? Lust's eyes blazed, then turned to the magic circle etched into the ground.

A circle for the ritual, no doubt. Quick situational judgment.

It's decided there's no chance like this.

Even the hybrid demon Gre Mory. Even having lost one arm, I'd hunted the Seven Deadly Sins' Envy.

I'd severed it myself, of course.

Though Marcelo and Banggrit helped with the arm.

After that, I'd felled even the evil dragon Yunak Seus. Lust must have judged my path and concluded it couldn't touch me with ordinary means.

That it, like Gre Mory, had no choice but to mix blood and enter the realm of the Strange.

And the demon king it chose to mix with was...

The Ten Thrones demon king.

The Ten Thrones. The upper demon kings.

Obviously. Even before Baal, the number one upper demon king from the curse, I hadn't bowed my head.

So my words were simple.

"I wonder what tantrum you will show me."

"A tantrum?"

"The end will still be your belly slit open."

"...!!"

Unrelated to my worries as Lee Hoyeol, would Grandfell fear summoning an upper demon king?

He might even rejoice. A two-birds-one-stone opportunity to uproot both the great evil and an upper demon king.

But I knew. From facing two upper demon kings before—Gamigin and Baal—how vast the tribute required for their manifestation.

Thanks to that, I could track Lust's movements so clearly.

No place more suitable ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for a massive sacrificial ritual than China.

The collapse that began with Cheonha Tongil. Elcidoir had promptly sealed the ruptured rift, but the churning negative emotions couldn't vanish completely.

And China had an abundance of sacrificial numbers.

Sching—!

I raised Guicheol.

"A pity, however."

If it had sacrificed demons like with Gamigin, I might have watched the ritual idly.

What was two-birds-one-stone? Factoring in the demons as tribute... Grandfell might have shown rare leniency toward them.

But.

"I cannot squander Elcidoir's efforts."

This ritual's sacrifices were China's citizens.

Hunting demons by herding others' sacrifices? Efficiency aside, Grandfell's noble pride wouldn't allow it.

Lust sneered.

"Fine words. But the pity is mine. The ritual has already begun. No one can stop a ritual for an upper demon king once started!!"

Who was this directed at?

I replied calmly.

"For once, the words of a creature lesser than vermin ring true."

"You still haven't grasped the situa—"

"Indeed. The ritual has already begun."

"...?"

A battle of mental fortitude between demon hunter and demon. The one who gains the upper hand in that tug-of-war dominates the ritual entirely.

I told Lust.

"To you, it must appear as such."

"...What?"

Lust's expression was one of utter bewilderment.

I shifted my gaze past it, surveying the surroundings. Peaceful, as if a typhoon had swept through.

No manifestation of the magic circle for the upper demon king's advent. And the piercing stares weren't imaginary.

Murmurs rose.

"I-it's Lee Hoyeol!"

"Lee Hoyeol? Who's that?"

"Censorship is scary for real. How do you not know Lee Hoyeol? The pinnacle of players, incomparable to that coward Ryu Ojuncheon. From the endlessly deep darkness onward, just his titles alone number in the dozens...!"

...Dozens is a bit of an exaggeration, isn't it?

Anyway.

We'd clashed in midair, drawing eyes. Smartphones, drone cameras—everyone was capturing my image.

"What nonsense is this?"

Of course, the important part was Lust. It was still seeing illusions.

The implication was simple.

I'd grown.

"Let us end this."

To treat even a Seven Deadly Sins great evil as mere "prey."

"...!!!"

It finally grasped the situation. It moved to act belatedly, but I had no intention of waiting.

"I cannot keep a guest waiting."

Time on the Arcana Continent flows about four times faster than reality. Even if the Claudy Mansion was vast, it wasn't fully restored yet.

Before sniffing out my black history in the mansion...

As the homeowner, I needed to return and watch over the players.

So I moved.

The most efficient motion for hunting demons. Like Akshan.

Against mere great evil, grand magic was a luxury. Hands wielding sword and silver bolt-loaded crossbow sufficed.

As if to prove it.

Thwuck!

The crossbow bolt pierced Lust's shoulder blade.

It had twisted to dodge, but hit bone instead.

"Kuh."

Its dangling shoulder might stir faint pity in Lee Hoyeol, but would Grandfell care for a demon lesser than vermin?

Tap—charge.

I lightly kicked off the ground and lunged.

Obviously, movement speed is influenced by the Agility stat. Even with Natural Enemy activated, my pure physical prowess was far below low-level martial class players.

"!"

Yet I could move fast enough to fluster Lust thanks to my struggles thus far. Specifically, the propulsion from mana bursts with each step, mimicking Elcidoir's movements.

And within my led Exorcism Ritual.

Mere great evil couldn't keep up.

...Not a fight. Pure hunting. Utterly one-sided.

The natural enemy relationship between predator and prey.

Krunch!

I looked down at Lust, sprawled wretchedly on the building rooftop. Its blood soaked the surface.

"Damn it..."

It ground its teeth and spat.

"I thought I'd grasped my place. Since falling to this wretched land, I never once underestimated you. After all, you're the last survivor, aren't you?"

Its lip curled crookedly.

"Survivor of Akshan and Claudy. Unbelievable. How do ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you bear two fates that one alone should overwhelm? It piques my interest. Pure, genuine interest..."

A demon worth its name.

Pure, my ass.

Its tongue flicking over its lips reminded me once more: not a word from a demon could be trusted.

But Lust soon let its propped-up torso slump back. Not quite spread-eagled—grotesque.

Neck, arms, legs twisted at unnatural angles.

A hollow voice leaked from it.

"Perhaps I failed to grasp my place. I sought to surpass you by dominating the upper demon kings. But your coldness has shown me. I cannot surpass you."

Then the final words.

"So let me be your sacrifice. Buer!!"

At that moment, I recalled.

Demon kings. To summon them required an altar.

In Frost's reclamation, Decarabia had arranged corpses in a star for an altar. Karimjeva had manifested a rift like a horse's shape for Gamigin.

So Lust, twisted grotesquely, was literally making itself the altar and sacrifice to summon the upper demon king.

Thus, my—no, Grandfell's—response was crystal clear.

My cold gaze turned to the cracking sky.

"Two birds, one stone."