Chapter 5: "Poor Quality"
This area was Shaman's domain, home to the sacred temple. And yet, to don a helmet, armor, and even a cape modeled after the demon that the Nod tribe feared? Was he trying to make an enemy of Shaman? Or perhaps...
'A ploy to instill fear in the Nod tribe?'
Histon Partas felt the hairs on his body stand on end. Just facing the figure filled him with overwhelming pressure. With that appearance, it might indeed be effective against the Nod folk.
"You there—"
"Who the hell are you?"
At the demon—no, Loki's question, Histon felt his heart pound. The pressure and unease intensified from merely hearing the voice.
'Magic woven into his voice?'
"...I am Histon Partas, chieftain of the Partas tribe. I've given my name. Now give yours!"
"I am... Loki."
"......"
Histon smirked. The demon worshipped by Shaman had no name. By uttering one just now, he'd proven he wasn't the true terror of the Nod tribe.
"Very well, Loki. Was it you who..."
Histon gripped his reins tighter, glaring at Loki.
"...did this to my men?"
"It was."
"Why?"
"They attacked."
"For that reason alone?"
"They threatened to kill me and tried to do it. Isn't that enough?"
Loki spread his hands casually and shrugged. Seeing this nonchalance, Histon sensed overconfidence.
'Undead did the killing?'
He recalled the horde of undead that had pursued him through the forest. Each one was so powerful he questioned if he could handle them alone.
'No mere low-grade undead.'
Every one was Death Knight-class or higher. Which meant the figure before him was a far more formidable black mage than expected.
'Arrogant.'
Histon raised his hand.
'But that arrogance is just a bluff.'
A black mage standing alone before his foes without undead shields? Utter foolishness! And that complacency would spell his doom.
'Take him down!'
With a flick of his fingers, Histon signaled. His men surged forward.
"Fine, that's enough. But for slaying my men..."
Histon tightened his grip on his spear.
"...you'll pay the price!"
Sensing the hostility, Loki tilted his head.
"I was hoping for a conversation."
"Save it for my men in the afterlife!"
At that instant, Partas cavalry charged from both sides of Loki. They circled swiftly, with Histon bolting straight through the center.
Histon clutched his spear. Loki extended both hands.
The flanking cavalry were crushed by Loki's outstretched palms.
SQUASHED
"......!"
With a mere grasping motion in the air, the riders crumpled as if compressed by the atmosphere—then burst.
Blood sprayed everywhere.
'Ma—magic?!'
But without incantation, just by clenching his fist, he'd exploded them. A bizarre, ominous power. Fitting for one impersonating a demon.
But using magic meant he needed time to cast again!
"Ooooooh—!"
Histon charged, spear at the ready. Mages were defenseless for minutes after a spell. That's why they were both threats and liabilities on the battlefield—easy prey without protection.
Histon roared.
But contrary to his expectations, Loki swung his hand through the air. A chill ran up Histon's spine; he twisted aside.
RIGHT ARM SEVERED
Space tore open just as Histon dodged—but too late. His spear hand vanished into the black rift.
"Wha—?"
Turning to look, pain erupted from the stump where his arm had been, blood gushing forth.
"......!"
Histon forgot to scream. He'd survived countless battlefields and raids. He'd overcome death many times. Never show your back—his mantra for survival.
He gritted his teeth.
"You bastard—!"
With all his might, he lunged. Close the distance to the mage! Shatter him with his Divine Gift!
"...Oh? Not backing down even after that?"
As Loki looked surprised, Histon kicked off his horse and leaped. He drew a deep breath.
His foe was a mage—one who needed no chants, wielding demonic power in rapid succession. But Histon had his ace.
The power of the chosen in this world: Divine Gift.
A destructive force said to be granted only to the bloodlines of great Constellations on Britannia continent. Diverse, potent, blessed.
Histon's was—
"Die."
A breath like a dragon's.
Histon opened his mouth and unleashed [Roar].
[Roar]
Compressed air erupts like a blade storm.
Compressed air blasted from Histon's mouth—a razor breath.
BOOM!!
A massive explosion whipped up a blizzard. The ground cracked; startled birds fled skyward.
"Gaaah—!"
Histon vomited blood. Breathing felt like ruptured lungs; his mouth was shredded like it'd been slashed.
'Damn it!'
He rarely used his Divine Gift—too taxing on the body. But against a monster who'd severed his arm with a gesture, any hesitation meant death.
"My right arm... ugh—!"
Staring into the black smoke, Histon bellowed.
"You fucking dogshit! Hope you're rotting in hell with my men and my right arm, you son of a bitch!"
As he staggered up, panting and ranting—
"...Intriguing."
Histon froze, turning blankly. A black shadow stirred in the smoke, red eyes gleaming.
"A skill? No, not a game—local magic, or some other power."
With a wave, the explosion's dust scattered on a gust. Black flames engulfed his body, yet he emerged unscathed, armor clanking leisurely—like a king of hell descending.
"What do you call that power?"
The demon loomed over Histon.
'...What?'
Histon paled. His [Roar] rivaled compressing air to crumple steel gates, pulverizing a hundred men. Yet Loki had taken it head-on and brushed it off like dust.
"Conversation's proving difficult. If you want PvP, I'll oblige."
Loki stood before him. Up close, he towered enormously.
"Ha... ha... haha. Hahaha!!"
Histon laughed madly at Loki. Tremors wracked his body. Terror surged from his depths, hammering his heart.
And with it, awe. Impostor? No—this was real!
The demon from the temple: Constellation of Sin!
Behold that majesty! Enduring his full-power strike unfazed!
Childhood tales rang true—the elders' fear of Shaman, Shaman's reverence and dread. Now he understood.
—The Constellation of Sin judges the Nod.
Histon's laughter cut off.
—Eternal torment in judgment!
Terror flooded him. This being had come to judge him.
He staggered back. Loki stroked his chin.
"Surely you're not brazenly fleeing after starting the fight?"
Loki stepped forward; Histon retreated.
"You attacked me moments ago."
Loki's crimson eyes blazed like flames.
"Now you run?"
"Hiiik—!"
Histon spun—then collapsed, balance lost.
Looking back, his foot was severed, exploded in distorted space. Heavy pain mingled with the tundra's chill.
"Aaaaagh!!"
His scream echoed. Everyone froze—his remaining men, even the Raguna tribe—all stared at Loki in dread.
"Answer my questions."
Loki spread and clenched his hand in the air.
LEFT LEG EXPLODED
Histon's other foot shattered.
"I'm short on patience."
Histon's eyes rolled back.
"Ugh... ughhh...."
Tears and snot streamed down his face; blood dripped from shattered teeth and swollen gums.
Loki grimaced. Insane? Broken? No talking to this one.
He gazed at Histon pityingly—like one might a worm with legs torn off. To end his suffering, he reached out—
"Wait...!"
A foolhardy voice interrupted. A middle-aged blond with blue eyes—battered, toothless, nose caved, face swollen from recent blows. Teeth clenched in terror, he approached Histon, then froze under Loki's gaze.
Loki's eyes lit up at the stranger. All Nod he'd seen had green hair and eyes—blue at darkest. This was his first other human; curiosity stirred.
"...Here to retrieve him?"
The man flinched back but hesitated on fleeing.
"Y-yes."
Loki tilted his head.
"Precious to you?"
"N-no."
"Then...?"
"He owes... a debt."
Shaking, the man pressed on.
"Debt?"
"He won't survive like this anyway. W-won't you hand him over to me?"
Loki glanced around. Corpses littered the ground. No point killing more.
"...Take him. And don't look back."
"You're sparing him?"
"No need to kill a fly that stays away."
The man dragged Histon onto his horse, bowed to Loki.
"Th-thank you. I'll repay this debt someday."
"......"
The man rode off. Loki eyed his hand. He'd meant to crush Histon's skull—without hesitation. Lacking humanity.
'Whatever.'
Not worth dwelling on.
"Kankun."
Kankun jumped. He'd called her by name—for the first time!
"Y-yes! What is it?"
Her voice brightened. He'd saved her twice. She knew he meant no harm.
Gazing at Loki, she awaited his words.
"Tell me about these Divine Gifts—"
Loki's interest in this world deepened.
"—what are they?"