Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: The Elf and the Coffee Farm (18)
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After finishing his brief speech and bowing his head, Julius received somewhat awkward applause from the elves in response. In truth, though it was meant to boost morale, it felt like a simple "Hey, Kis has no silver tongue, but let's give it our all!" kind of pep talk, and this was the first time they'd heard anything like it.
The content of the speech itself was exactly what they wanted to hear right now, as they headed into battle—it was encouraging and gave them courage—but since it was a style of oration they'd never encountered before, they had no idea how to react properly.
At the same time, they felt a bit flustered seeing Julius, whom they'd only thought of as a clever human, in a posture so familiar it made them wonder if he was actually royalty or nobility from somewhere else.
Even so, leaving Julius, who had shown such respect to the elves, as he was would touch on their own pride, so Kis stepped forward as their representative.
"Frankly, I never imagined you'd say something like this, but since you've shown us such respect and reverence, we owe you the same. We of Spiegel will regard you as an eternal blood ally, and we promise to stand by you, ready to shed our blood if you shed yours. We look forward to your valiant performance in this decisive battle."
"Of course."
"A-and take the communication earring with you. Use it if anything happens. No need for the crystal orb."
"...For real?"
"Heh, our captain's got a wedding to attend, so we can't let him die."
"Shut up."
The mood was starting to veer into strange territory when Kis approached his comrades, who were giving him odd looks, and kicked their asses to hurry them onto their mounts amid the chuckling.
In the meantime, Julius had magically sterilized the earring, pierced his earlobe with it, wiped away the trickle of blood, and stretched his body.
"Well then, shall we get going?"
"Huh? How are you planning to get in?"
"Wouldn't it be better to sow chaos in one swift strike rather than breaking through honestly?"
Question marks popped up over Kis and the elves' heads.
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Humans called him the Butcher, but Karsys referred to himself as the Devourer, or the Gourmet. He didn't discriminate in what he ate. He sliced it in various ways, cooked it variously, and savored it in all manners. That way, he knew what was delicious and could offer the finest cuts to his god.
Even now, he'd disassembled a lumberjack—who'd come down from the Imir Kingdom's southern border to fell trees, someone he barely knew—by parts and placed them on the altar. The lumberjack's limbs were muscular and tough, unpalatable, but his organs were lean enough to be decent.
Thus, this offering consisted of the guts and bone broth after removing the old, spoiled skin and tough muscles.
And once he placed it on the altar...
"Sorry about that."
A golden flash streaked across his vision, Karsys's right arm holding the bowl flew through the air, and the pot with its cleaned bones split in two.
"Karsys. Time to pay for your sins."
"...That crest. Lebedev. A spawn of Lebedev! The arch-enemy who slew demonkind when we were weak, forcing that shameful peace upon us! Yes! I remember now! Julius! Julius Lebedev! The monstrous whelp who butchered the elite demons loyal to the Demon God!"
"Unfortunately."
The golden mana pooled at his feet surged, slicing the unprepared Karsys into eight pieces in an instant.
"Right now, I'm just Julius."
As if hearing that, sticky slime-like blood welled up from the ground, flesh reassembling around it to restore his original form.
The difference was that the remaining blood had formed an armor enveloping his body, drawn from the defiled earth.
"I'll kill you. I'll offer every scrap of your meat without waste!"
"If you can."
To evade the earth's detection and reach the altar at supersonic speed, the aura gathered at his feet now evenly cloaked his entire body.
With his form faintly gleaming gold, Julius struck first.
The sword in his right hand slashed horizontally. Unlike a body, the blade aura was compressed to such density it created the illusion of a golden-glowing sword edge hurtling toward Karsys, who countered with pitch-black blood summoned by prayer to his Demon God.
The strike pierced half the defense. But after enveloping his body in aura and abandoning the shield for dual swords, Julius retracted his right blade and delivered the same overhead downward slash with his left, then exploited the half-torn gap by gripping his right sword reverse and thrusting it in to rip it wide open.
Stunned that his near-impenetrable blood shield had been torn away in just three strikes, Karsys cast a full-body reinforcement spell and blocked the ensuing seven-strike flurry, losing his right arm and gaining six gashes across his chest.
He could reattach the arm. Blood surged to reconnect it—but a fireball arrow struck his hand, blasting it away.
"Allies?!"
"Something like that."
"Damn it all. What about my minions?"
"Do I really need to tell you?"
He'd managed to recover it somehow, but the half-charred right arm didn't function properly even reattached. Had it been intact, that puny fireball would've been no issue. If Julius were alone, he could've lost the arm, let it burn, reattach, and be done.
There, Karsys grasped the core of this assault.
"Cowardly bastard! Without this pincer attack, you couldn't defeat me!"
"...We fight to win. Who dives in without preparing a way to victory?"
His imperfect right hand made forming seals for blood magic difficult. Any gap invited a barrage of slashes even his sturdy body couldn't fully block. Weakened spots were sniped from extreme range, rendering them useless.
Sharing vision with his minions briefly revealed them struggling against elves on horseback, who controlled distance and toyed with them using arrows and spells.
Damn it all.
"...I've decided. I'll break you and slaughter those frail elves. That's all."
"Right answer, baldy. Come at me properly."
Karsys unleashed a roar for the first time in years. He was strong. Strong enough he rarely needed full effort.
But now, he resolved to unleash everything against those who'd separated him from his minions with force and cunning, sending an assassin his way.
Blood surged from the altar, the rotting earth, nearby offerings, and dead minions' corpses at his voice. The waves of blood he commanded with gestures surged to devour Julius in one gulp.
Yet they shattered like waves crashing against a massive boulder, scattering in droplets.
Ignoring the spraying blood, Julius stood tall, his body inscribed with golden aura and a crest.
The crest. The Goddess's crest. A rite of protection and enhancement granted only to those who pledged offerings to her.
The sun.
That's the sun.
A damnable terror rose from Karsys's toes.
Simultaneously, the golden-gleaming right sword fell vertically. Karsys gathered the flung blood droplets for defense.
A screech like scraping metal rang out briefly as the sword halted, but sensing more mana poured in from the intensifying presence beyond, Karsys discarded his shield and leaped back.
The judgment was spot-on; a golden slash erupted from the plummeting blade, cleaving the Demon God-empowered altar in two.
Right sword held at mid-guard, left dangling low, Julius approached Karsys, reigniting the terror that had paralyzed him moments ago.
Then all that remained was desperate flailing.
"Don't make me laugh! I'm a demon who's lived 800 years, priest of the Seat of Devouring bestowed by the Demon God, grand high priest serving him with blood! I won't yield. I won't fear!"
Blood swords formed in both hands. Shields couldn't block it. Then swords it was.
Infusing red sword aura into the barbed blood blades, Karsys charged Julius.
Once, twice, thrice. Clearly not at full power, yet he was being pushed back even in pure swordplay.
800 years of life. Nearly 400 devoted to the blade. Even shifting to blood magic lately, he couldn't lose on skill to some brat of barely 20.
He couldn't. He mustn't.
"Raaaaagh!"
A ferocious strike with maximum power. Variable slashes—length, thickness, even barb growth adjustable thanks to blood—yet Julius blocked without a twitch or scratch.
As he paused, winded and sickened by the display, a blink later his right arm flew off again, magic slamming his body and severed limb from a blind spot.
Minions, where are my minions? If there's blood, they can revive.
"Your minions are all grounded. Stronger per individual than expected, so they're holding out, but that's it. With some sacrifices, eliminating them without you is easy. Without them, taking you down is simple too."
"Urk... I'm strong. Among demons, and even stronger after the Demon God's favor. But you—what makes you strong? Talent alone doesn't explain it! What drove you to such brutal training?!"
Slash.
Left arm severed, both legs gone below the knees.
He glimpsed the man's face—once thought the sun—twisted into an abyss.
"There was this kid. No parents since he had memories, just stuck in a facility with other abandoned brats."
What story is this? Julius grew up hearing he was Lebedev nobility, the family's hope.
Even demons knew that.
"Learned about adoption at seven. But no sane person would adopt him. So he found a way: better to raise his value from a filthy, cramped orphanage or go independent. Simple conclusion—do what adults like. Study hard. Be diligent. Take responsibility, train hard, build stamina."
Backlit by the sun, Julius's shadowed face revealed only mana-charged blue eyes glinting murderously.
"Parents looking for a kid appeared. Good finances, dual income, decent marriage, but infertile. Still, no guarantees—other people's kid could be discarded anytime. So he whipped himself harder, aiming for perfection in everything."
Face obscured, the golden aura only blazed brighter alongside the crest.
"Problem came four years later, after moving with the parents and starting school. Met an orphanage buddy in similar straits. Kids bullied him for dead parents. That kid was smart, athletic, good-job parents, nice house—got along fine, but it reminded him of his past self. Couldn't ignore. Helped out, and at first, it seemed to work. Until rumors spread he was an orphan adoptee."
Veins bulged on his sword-gripping right hand.
The blade, scarring the earth, rested lightly on Karsys's shoulders—both arms severed.
"Yeah, that can happen. Still, two loners should be fine, right? But the girl orphan turned away. Freshly escaped bullying, didn't want back in. Understandable. But betrayal lingered. Girl safe alone, boy bullied instead. Teachers turning blind eyes."
The crest flared intensely; mere proximity to the golden sword aura wracked Karsys's body in agony.
"A year later, everything settled, she apologized. Didn't accept. Didn't want to. He'd tried to help; she'd betrayed. Week after, she hanged herself. Suicide note full of 'sorry to the boy,' no resentment."
The sword fully sheathed in aura reshaped into a lightning spear.
The crackling power held immense holiness, scorching Karsys just facing it.
"Hated it. But not death-worthy hate. Wrong, yes. But not fatally. Resented, yes. But didn't wish death. So what? If she lacked courage to overcome bullying, he lacked the guts to forgive despite pain, become her sole reliance. Lacked the strength to convince her they'd endure together, even bullied."
So, people can err, slip up. A few times won't deduct points—endure.
So, strive to death to become someone anyone could rely on.
So, be a shelter for orphans, widows, elders with nowhere to lean.
Never again watch someone I ignored die lonely.
Im Ji-woo, you failed. Lacked. Imperfect.
So Julius, you must succeed. Perfect, bearing all expectations. Even if it means dedicating your life to the Goddess, the system window.
"Think I'd just listen to that drivel?!"
Karsys had secretly gathered scattered blood, summoning his usual massive cleaver. Rusted, chipped, but brimming with vicious mana, gleaming deadly.
Blood arms soft but strong; the moment he raised the cleaver...
"Meaningless."
The spear-blade impaled Karsys at invisible speed, shredding him into countless flesh fragments beyond hand-counting.
Yet regenerative will persisted; as flesh and blood gathered—elves' carpet bombardment incinerated every scrap, leaving no trace.
"...Not meaningless. Dwelling on the past is."
Until Karsys's existence fully vanished, Julius thrust the lightning spear into the earth, incinerating even his soul, then waved to the elves with his usual smile.
"I want some coffee and rest."
With that modest wish.
⚙ SYSTEM ERROR ⚙
Main Quest progression impossible. Progress bar error detected. Storyline reconstruction attempt. Failed. Irreparable damage occurred. The only solution. Return to the Academy. Main Story Progress: ■■%