Chapter 216
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 216
Chapter Title: Hellscape of the Demon Realm
Blood was splattered everywhere.
Just like during the Great Righteous-Demonic War, corpses littered the ground in endless variety, each felled in different ways, turning the place into a veritable hell.
But there were stark differences from that war.
Not red human blood, but blue and black ichor pooled all around.
The corpses weren't human either—giant bats, dogs the size of houses, bipedal wolves, white-skinned monsters embedded with red gems in their foreheads.
Everything was on another level entirely from the Great Righteous-Demonic War.
Thud thud thud thud.
Strange demons arrived—upper bodies like humans, but lower halves those of horses.
A band of eleven monsters.
One of them couldn't hold back its shock at the hellish scene.
"What in the world..."
There were easily over a hundred corpses.
Among them stood out some notable demons, and even a few with ranks, forcing grim thoughts upon them.
"Think they're dead?"
In response to the monster's words, the leader—a baron-rank demon—murmured lowly.
"No, alive."
"Pardon?"
Unlike the others, this demon had small bat wings on its back, the mark of their kind. The monsters followed its gaze.
Atop the towering mound of corpses sat a figure.
A race that couldn't exist in the Demon Realm.
"A-a human?!"
It was Yong-un.
After catching his breath, Yong-un—drenched head to toe in blood—clutched not his Demon-Slaying Sword, which he'd been unable to bring, but another demon's blade.
Gazing down from the peak, he used the corpse of the last rank-held demon he'd slain as a foothold and rose to his feet.
Flinch!
His slightest motion sent the monsters stumbling back.
Only the baron-rank leader stared straight at Yong-un.
Descending like stairs, Yong-un stepped down over their corpses.
And stood before the demon.
"You're truly human."
The demon—human torso atop equine legs—looked down at Yong-un with a cold expression.
Yong-un extended the demon's sword and shot back.
"I'm looking for demons."
"What if the one you seek is a duke guarding the Demon King?"
"A duke, yes—but I need to see the face."
"No need. There are only two dukes in the Demon Realm."
Two...
Yong-un nodded.
The Death Demon Cries born from the first-generation Death Demon Cry: Young-il and Cheon-il.
Just the two.
"Guide me."
Yong-un tightened his grip on the sword.
A silent declaration: speak, or be cut down.
But the baron-rank demon, bearing the full brunt of Yong-un's killing intent, shook its head.
"No need. One of them is already watching you."
The baron-rank demon pointed to the sky.
The black-and-red sky held nothing.
As Yong-un's face twisted in confusion, the demon spoke.
"The Lord of the 108 Demon Eyes oversees the entire Demon Realm. Which means even this conversation is being watched."
As if affirming the demon's words, a black-red bolt of lightning suddenly crashed from the heavens.
The lightning's power was immense, its speed rivaling light itself.
Yet if Yong-un unleashed the Second Form of the Organic Finger Strike to its limit, he could bisect even lightning.
Clang! Boom!!!
The bolt hurtling toward Yong-un collided with his sword—swung so fast its moment was imperceptible.
The stolen demon blade cracked, then exploded.
Spurt! Whoosh whoosh whoosh!
The shards became lethal projectiles, instantly claiming five of the ten monsters' lives.
But the baron-rank demon didn't spare a glance for its fallen minions.
"Answer enough?"
Thud.
Yong-un tossed the shattered sword and nodded.
Then he glared fiercely at the baron-rank demon.
"Guide me. To them."
"I too serve the Lord of the 108 Demon Eyes. I've come to fetch you on His command."
Swish.
The baron-rank demon extended a hand.
"Ride my back. I'll take you to Him."
It could be a trap.
But Yong-un didn't hesitate, grabbing the demon's hand and mounting its back like a horse.
The baron-rank demon glanced at the surrounding monsters and barked.
"Move out."
"Yes!"
Thus, the demon carrying Yong-un and its monstrous entourage raced toward the towering spire of the Demon Realm—the Demon King's castle at its heart.
The enemy's stronghold, lair of the strongest across all dimensions.
"Use this rune script, is that it?"
Spellro's eyebrow twitched.
"If you don't know its meaning, then yes. Or do you have another way?"
Despite Spellro's sharp retort, Sergio—Royal Class dubbed Light of the Heavens, from Brazil—stepped forward lightly.
Ignito snorted in derision.
"Using an unknown rune? Tsk tsk, you never change. Still itching for a beatdown."
"More importantly, how'd you even know about this place?"
The Mercenary King asked in a rare serious tone.
Sergio met his gaze steadily, then smiled.
"How? Heard you snuck in another Royal Class behind my back, so I dropped by. Charlie spilled the beans."
Sergio strode confidently toward the gathered rune script.
He was moments from trampling it outright.
Whoosh.
But Ignito wouldn't stand for that.
Flames erupted right in Sergio's path, and Ignito seized his collar.
"No reason we should've tipped you off, right?"
Even laced with threat, Sergio's expression stayed calm.
Because as the first Royal Class—the inaugural one—his skills outmatched Ignito's.
"True, no reason. But then, no reason to stonewall me either."
A dull gray aura emanated from Sergio.
An eerie, murky energy.
His demon-like power—the force that elevated him to Royal Class—transformed into a skill, lifting Ignito into the air.
Whoosh!
Ignito, familiar with the skill, summoned flames again and teleported in front of Sergio.
The instant he reached for the collar again—
Sergio's eyes turned pitch black, like a demon's.
Smirk.
"Right?"
Riiip.
Ignito's extended arm tore through his sleeve, blood spraying.
Telekinesis.
Sergio's skill had wrung Ignito's arm like laundry.
"Guh..."
Slash!
But Spellro wouldn't watch idly.
To the Royal Class Union, these were family.
Spellro, Light of Ice, dropped stealth and swung a platinum dagger at Sergio's throat in one breath.
Clang!
But the dagger didn't sever his neck.
For if Dreamlight forged the Royal Class Union, Light of the Heavens Sergio had his own union.
Whoosh.
Before the blocked dagger, black smoke billowed in midair.
And there appeared the final Royal Class.
The third: Light of Dark.
Darklight himself, Frederick from France, revealed his form.
"That's far enough."
Frederick's eyes—pupilless white—shifted sideways.
There, the Mercenary King leaped, hammersmashing both fists down at Frederick.
Rumble rumble rumble!!!
A two-meter behemoth wielding fitting brute strength—his hand-hammer.
Yet tiny Frederick blocked the absurd force with one hand.
Crunch.
The ground beneath Frederick cratered, revealing the Mercenary King's power.
"Shall we do this for real?"
"If you wish."
Dark yellow battle spirit poured from the Mercenary King, thick with killing intent.
Simultaneously, pitch-black, viscous aura oozed from Frederick's entire body.
"Bound to happen someday. Count me in if you want."
Even Spellro—ever cold and observant—exhaled pale white frost.
The air froze solid, grew sticky, prickled painfully.
The clash of three Royal Classes.
Their vast, dense powers whipped wind through the dust-choked, airtight fourth basement level.
Air thick with promises of instant death to any who moved.
Tension on a knife's edge.
Sergio broke the silence first.
"Frederick."
"Yes."
"Stand down. We're not here to fight."
"Yes."
Frederick slowly withdrew his energy.
His hand and blackened gauntlet parted from the contact point.
The Mercenary King and Spellro let him go.
"Guh."
Thud.
As Frederick returned to Sergio's side, Ignito—clutching his arm, blood dripping—collapsed into the vacated spot.
"You alright?!"
The Mercenary King quickly checked Ignito.
Muscles torn a bit, but nothing crippling.
As Spellro verified too and turned to prevent further trouble—
Pop.
Sergio and Frederick vanished from the spot.
"Damn it!!!!"
Ignito, gripping his aching arm, roared in fury.
True to his moniker Flame of Fire, fierce blue flames surged around him.
His eyes bulged, blue fire spewing heat from above them.
"Why can't we? It's just two bastards! Old man! Can't we just kill them?! You could do it, Mercenary King—not-old-man!"
The two there knew Ignito's heart better than anyone.
First Royal Class and third.
Light of the Heavens and Light of Dark—their power was far from all.
Just two, yet even the second Royal Class, Dreamlight, wouldn't dare challenge them. The gap was that vast.
Ignito knew it too, so even under attack, he hadn't unleashed everything.
"'That's why you can't'... Huh."
Blue flames erupted from Sergio's scrawled message on the floor.
The stone blackened instantly, reducing the words to ash.
Ignito shot to his feet, glaring at the rune pattern formed from the letters.
The 'Man' rune.
"Do it."
"Ignito!"
"Do it! We won't know unless we try! Isn't that the difference between us and them? They met 'that one' just like us and got strong! No innate gap— so why this disparity?!"
Ignito ignored the union and drew up mana.
Black-red flames traced the air, slowly etching the pattern.
"Ignito!!"
Spellro swiftly slashed the flames with his dagger, snuffing them.
But Ignito's resolve was iron.
They thought him dazed as mana dispersed—but no.
"Sorry, gotta try. Fuck this."
His hidden right hand thrust forward.
A flawless rune script—completed unnoticed.
[????]
Man complete.
"Ignito!!!!!"
The Mercenary King punched Ignito's gut, trying to rip out the completed rune by force.
But.
Thud!!
This rune was leagues beyond the others.
Tiny as it was, merely grasping it hurled the Mercenary King back hard.
And then.
Crackle crackle crackle.
Before Spellro, the Mercenary King, and finally Ignito's eyes—
The thickest, most potent black-red energy yet erupted, dwarfing all mana they'd felt.
ACTIVATED
The rune signifying the Demon King had been triggered.