Violet (1)

Violet Blackgarden arrived at the ruins by carriage.

Demonic energy...

A nauseating tide of it was flowing down into the depths beneath the ruins. Violet was one of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the rare humans born with a constitution that could sense such energy, and it felt as though this current had been laid out for her alone.

She gripped her staff in both hands until her knuckles went white. Both hands were trembling.

The memory rose unbidden.

Just as on the day of her enrollment, when the train had plunged into a dungeon, a grotesque voice woven from demonic energy had come seeking her in the dormitory.

It had been a sound that scraped unpleasantly through her skull, like fingernails dragged across a blackboard.

Violet had left the academy and used a communication orb to ask after her mother's safety — outside contact was forbidden on school grounds. The family had answered in a panic. Her mother was missing.

In the end, after much agonizing, Violet had come alone to the place the blackmailer had named.

"Such a childish threat..."

Her eyes had gone cold as ice.

Her heels clicked against stone as she descended into the ruins, using the demonic energy as her guide, and picked her way through a tangled maze. Along the way, as a precaution, she secretly left faint traces of mana at every turning — traces that would not register now, and would only bloom with time.

Just in case someone came looking for her.

She could risk no more visible preparations than that. She could feel demonic energy, after all, and so she knew a demon was truly watching her.

At last she came to a hidden passage. And down that passage...

A low, hollow rush of air.

A single Gate swam into Violet's vision. The demonic energy was flowing straight into it.

"A trap..."

She stared the Gate down. Of course it was a trap. But she could not turn back. The life of the person most precious to her hung in the balance.

Violet drew up her mana and stepped through.

"Ugh, it reeks."

Almost stepped in some weird liquid. And why did it smell this awful?

Augh, who the hell plants a Gate in a dump like this.

This was the place where, in Chapter Three of the original story, a Gate Break erupted — and where Violet, as the boss Necrolord, made her appearance. I had arrived in the underground maze of those ruins.

If Violet's disappearance was already in motion, she would have been under a demon's surveillance, which meant I couldn't follow too closely. So I had kept my distance. By now, if she had gone into the Gate, the demon watching her would have gone in after her at once.

Oh, there it is, just as I thought.

A faint pink powder glimmered in the air — residual traces of mana. You could only find them if you came here during Act Seven of Chapter One in Elwi. It was easy enough to guess that Violet had left them.

In the original, following those traces led you to the Gate. Enter that dungeon, and an event triggered in which overwhelming enemies tore you apart. Game over.

But then, who am I?

The Swordmaster of the dungeons.

As it happened, every one of my current stats sat at D+. From D-rank onward, once a stat grade hit its plus stage, the corresponding stat in Swordmaster state rose by one rank as well. Meaning they became A+.

A single rank of difference at that height would be enormous. I wouldn't have any trouble beating whatever was waiting inside. And if I wiped out every last enemy in there, there would be no risk of my identity leaking — communication magic and the like would be blocked inside a dungeon anyway. Even if some unforeseen variable cropped up, the sensory domain and mana detection of a Swordmaster would catch it in an instant and crush it.

Turning that over in my mind, I moved quickly through the maze, and before long—

A low, hollow rush of air.

I had reached the Gate.

This Gate appeared immediately after Violet vanished. The original stated that a demon had created it for the express purpose of sending her into the dungeon.

Time to meet an officer of the Demon King's Army.

The Demon King's Army was a separate force from the enemies who had taken root at the knight academy and gone after Elise's power. These were remnants of a fallen army, chasing the hopeful dream of a glorious revival, hunting for a candidate to become the next Demon Lord.

In their eyes, Violet would have looked like a magnificent Demon Lord's Vessel.

The demon from the train incident — Crimson-Eyed Orankel — had also been a veteran of the Demon King's Army, which was why he had taken an interest in Violet even after switching factions.

Their plan in this dungeon would have been to raise Violet into a new Demon Lord.

Which meant:

I just wreck them without asking questions, basically.

Alright, Demon King's Army. Stick your necks out.

I drew a long breath, and crossed the Gate.

Time to go get our Violet.

Violet had always loved necromancy.

In the pure days of her childhood, when she first set foot in the dark arts, she had gone to her mother to show off. Whether it was a blessing or a misfortune, the girl had a remarkable gift for black magic.

Her mother had looked at her with worry at first — and then, before long, had praised her, telling her how wonderful it was.

Other people were not so kind. In the household, in high society, everywhere she went, they scorned and shunned her as a black mage.

Necromancy was an evil power. The belief that "magic itself is without ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sin" had taken root widely enough for necromancy to be legalized, but the wounds black magic had left on history still ran deep.

And so, when Violet grieved, her mother had comforted her.

"Violet, all you have to do is show people how amazing black magic is."

"The amazingness of black magic!"

"Ah — y-yes...! Amazing!"

"Wow...!"

Everyone else denied black magic. Her mother alone had affirmed it. Because of her, Violet had grown painfully shy around strangers — but she had never been cowed. She had been able to keep living with her head up.

"What do you want to be when you grow up, Violet?"

"I want to be a dark magic knight who protects people with necromancy..."

It was thanks to her mother that she had first held that dream, even as a child.

Caw, caw!

Crows shrieked, hungering for flesh. The sky was thick with ominous red cloud, and a ruined black castle sat upon the hill. Great black crosses stood everywhere, as though the whole place were a graveyard, and black flowers ran rampant in every direction.

A storm swollen with demonic energy blasted Violet off her feet. Her spirits threw themselves in front of her; thanks to them she escaped with only light injuries, but the spirits themselves were smashed apart without a prayer of resistance. She released a heavy burst of basic wind magic and landed safely on the ground.

On one of the many crosses, her unconscious mother hung suspended. Magic had put her there, by the look of it. A binding spell wound around the cross, and the attempt to send a small spirit in secret to free her had already failed. Every method Violet tried came to nothing. A demon had blocked them all.

"That look in your eyes is scary.... Just give up already, okay? Or maybe if I start by ripping off one of your mommy's arms, you'll feel like listening? Ahh, or I could let those bird-brains have a little nibble each?"

Silver hair. Blood-red skin and thorn-like horns. A slender frame wrapped in a dark grey cloak. The demon Ceris sat ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with her legs crossed atop one of the black crosses, looking down at Violet as though the girl were a joke.

A voice like something scraping, something being gouged. It was the same voice that had threatened Violet.

Violet fixed the demon with a murderous stare.

"Please stop...!"

"I already told you, didn't I? Become our new lord. We'll take such good care of you. There's only one thing you need to say. 'I will become king.' That's all it takes to seal the contract."

Behind Ceris, enormous red letters hung suspended in the empty air. It was a language Violet could not read, but from the circumstances she could tell well enough that it was some form of ominous contract magic.

"...Manifest."

At Violet's spoken command, spirits wreathed in pink mana rose to their feet.

Ceris heaved a long, theatrical sigh.

"Haaah. Why won't you just give up? What do you think you're going to do with a bunch of spirits that won't even listen? Your defense is decent, I'll give you that, but you can't attack. You can't attack at all. Tch — look at that. You stall long enough and now he's shown up too."

A deep, rolling rush of air.

Without warning, a green fog came crashing in from Violet's left. Wherever the mist brushed, the black flowers withered and rotted in an instant. A poison-fog spell that stole life itself.

A bird-spirit, sensing the danger, beat its wings and drove the fog back. Violet turned to the left with trembling eyes.

A grotesquely warped figure was striding toward her, a crow mask over its face and a black robe draped around its body. Its arms had one joint too many, and in its hand it carried a lantern that scattered a light of green mana. Violet recognized that light for what it was. Demonic energy.

"Your talent for necromancy appears excellent. There still seem to be considerable flaws, but I believe you will overcome them soon enough. You appear suitable to serve as our new lord."

"So you came too? She must have been quite the curiosity, this little black mage."

"Yes. A most delectable-looking vessel."

A long mouth split open beneath the crow mask, revealing a gleam of sharp teeth. A slender tongue slid out between them, and the creature licked its lips.

"How wonderful. What calamity you will become once you are reborn as a complete Demon Lord...! Ahh, I can hardly wait. I truly cannot wait!"

The crow mask's laughter climbed higher and higher, a cackling that would not stop.

A savage storm of demonic energy howled down from the sky — green poison fog. Then a colossal black bird, its wings wreathed in that dense mist, tore through the red clouds and revealed itself.

Thunder crashed. Scattered cloud ignited into lightning. Through the rolling boom, the giant monster bird looked down at Violet with three pairs of eyes.

The moment Violet felt the vast quantity of demonic energy the bird was pouring out, she knew. No matter what she did, she would never leave the palm of their hand.

"Would it not be best to cease your resistance!? You who possess the qualities of a sovereign! We beg you — grant us permission to serve you!!"

The crow mask cried out with feverish passion. And with that cry, the giant bird — Poison Monster Bird Popus — loosed a bizarre, keening wail.

An enormous wave of demonic energy rolled down from Popus, whipping Violet's dust-caked hair and the hem of her clothes with brutal force.

"Hah...!"

Violet steadied her breathing and set her hand on the hilt at her waist.

The cursed sword, Dansel. If she drew it, she could probably kill at least one of them.

But she squeezed her eyes shut and let the thought go. Her mother was a hostage, and the gap in power was stark.

"King..."

If she spoke the single word they wanted, she could save her mother. All she had to do was set down her dream. Even if her life were driven into a living hell, even if she were broken past all recognition — if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she could keep safe the person more precious to her than anyone in this world, that would be enough.

After thinking, and thinking again... Violet took her hand from the hilt. Ceris's mouth curled into a smirk.

"Please promise you won't touch my mother... or my friend."

"I'll go beyond a promise — I'll swear it. We never had any interest in them to begin with. Our only goal was you. Well, it's the will of the lord we'll be serving, so of course we'll honor it."

Violet laid a hand over her heart and let out a long, slow breath.

And then, unbidden, a face rose in her mind — the light-brown-haired boy they called the weakest of Griffin Knight Academy.

Hazley...

Ron Hazley. The second person who had ever affirmed her. And the first friend she had ever made.

She wanted so badly to see him. She wanted to spend more time with him. But she decided, here, to be content.

I really did have fun, thanks to you.

Thank you, Hazley. For giving me memories far better than I ever deserved.

A low, gathering hum.

"Oh...!"

The contract hanging in the air answered Violet's will, its red light flaring stronger. Her voice fell quiet and even upon the air.

"I... will become... king..."

And then—

A great cry charged with mana rolled across the sky.

Violet and both demons froze in shock.

All at once, blue fire of staggering heat bloomed in the heavens. As swiftly as flame devouring oil, the azure blaze swallowed the storm of poison fog coiled around Poison Monster Bird Popus and began to consume that enormous body. Before anyone could draw breath, the red sky had been painted over in blue.

Popus screamed — a raw, tearing shriek — and thrashed wildly.

"What! What just—!? Huh!?"

A chill raced down Ceris's spine. She shot to her feet. The mana was so vast that her instincts themselves were screaming. Something that must never have come here... had come.

A flash of light—

A vicious slash of silver-gray mana split Poison Monster Bird Popus in two and shot straight for Ceris.

"Are you insane!!"

Ceris startled so hard she nearly left her skin, kicked off the cross, and threw herself aside. The silver-gray slash carved through the cross, carved through the earth, and detonated.

The blast roared. Nearby black crosses toppled and fell, and the binding magic that had held Violet's mother shattered like glass.

In that same instant, an unidentified figure kicked off the body of Poison Monster Bird Popus and launched itself forward. A sonic boom cracked the air. He reached the ground in a single breath and caught Violet's falling mother as easily as if she weighed nothing at all.

On his heels, the corpse of Poison Monster Bird Popus crashed into the earth. The ground shuddered, and a thick cloud of dust billowed up. Crows screamed and wheeled in confusion; black feathers drifted down like snow.

Poison Monster Bird Popus. That powerful demonic beast... had been brought down in a manner too absurd for words.

"Mother...!"

Violet shoved her bewilderment and her questions aside and went first to her mother. Through the slowly thinning dust, a man was walking toward her, carrying the unconscious woman in both arms.

Violet's eyes went wide. She could not make her mind accept the image on her retinas.

The one approaching with her mother in his arms was a light-brown-haired young man, two unusual swords at his waist.

"Hazley...?"

Her friend. Ron Hazley.

Ron went down on one knee and set the woman he was carrying carefully into Violet's arms. Violet gathered her mother up at once.

"Ah...! Hh-nnh..."

Something deep and wrenching rose in her chest, but she forced the feeling down. Her mind was in far too much turmoil.

"How... did this happen?"

The words came out trembling, soaked through with unshed tears.

"What else would it be?"

Wanting to put her at ease, Ron gave her the same open, boyish smile he had always shown her.

"I came to help you, that's all."

"Just wait for me, Violet."

He turned his gaze toward the demons. In an instant, every trace of expression drained from his face. A resolute killing intent burned clearly in the blue light of his eyes.

"I'll finish this and be right back."

Violet could not close her mouth. She could not think of a single thing to say.

The clouds had been driven back, leaving what looked like a vast hole torn in the crimson sky. Sunlight poured down through it, as if the heavens themselves were exalting him. The crows, seized with terror, had already fled as fast as their wings could carry them.

"What are you doing! We can't beat that thing! We have to run—!"

Ceris was flying toward the crow-masked demon, her voice urgent — and then a pressure like a physical weight slammed down across the whole of the field.

"Ah...!"

A terrifying tide of mana settled over everything, as though it had mass of its own. Their entire bodies felt crushed. Survival instinct screamed. Both demons nearly dropped to their knees without meaning to.

Ron turned his back on Violet and walked toward the two of them.

The last of the black crosses, which had been holding on by a thread, could not endure the pressure radiating from a Swordmaster's mana. They crumbled in a rolling collapse.

Cold sweat ran down Ceris's face. Of one thing, at least, she was certain.

"Sword... master..."

Fleeing from that man was impossible.

A keen, cold note sang out as Howling Wolf Sword Calzark slid from its sheath, the sword-cry seeping sharp into the air.

The Swordmaster, Ron Hazley. The breath of a silver-gray wolf spilled from him as he spoke.