Violet (2)

What a complete shitshow.

A hollow laugh escaped the lips of the light-brown-haired man, Ron Hazley. Needless to say, he had not the slightest intention of letting a story like that come to pass.

"Hazley..."

Meanwhile, Violet held her mother in her arms, staring blankly at Ron's back. It was a sight like a miracle. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes, ready to spill at any moment.

Only then did she understand the truth of the train incident on the first day of enrollment. So it was you who killed the demon on that train.

You were saving me even before we ever met...

She had no idea how any of this was possible — but hearing the full story could wait until this crisis was over. At the very least, one thing was perfectly clear: Ron was on her side.

And so, just in case any danger should befall him, Violet rested her hand on the Cursed Sword Dansel at her waist and drew up her mana.

"Who might you be?"

The crow mask inquired with impeccable courtesy.

"Don't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠think we're on a first-name basis."

Ron answered as he settled into a sword stance.

Both demons knew it instinctively. There was no fleeing from a being of that caliber. Which meant they had no choice but to fight.

"Damn it! Nameld! We have to do something—!"

The demon Ceris shouted toward the crow-masked demon, Nameld, and the instant she turned to look at him—

Shunk!!

"Ghk—!"

Nameld's arm punched straight through Ceris's chest. She coughed up a gout of blue blood, staring down at her own breast in stunned disbelief.

"You— what are you doing...?"

"What exactly do you propose we do against a being of that caliber, Ceris? Pathetically complacent. How pitiful."

A great mouth curved into a crescent beneath the crow mask.

"I shall have to make one last desperate stand. I'll need every scrap of an advantage I can get — so I would like you to hand over your heart."

"You son of a bitch...! AAAAGH!!"

Crunch. Schlurp.

Nameld tore Ceris's heart free. It shone a brilliant blue, like a jewel. He stuffed it into his enormous mouth and swallowed it whole.

Thud.

Ceris collapsed in a rush of blue blood, her body twitching in fits and starts before crumbling into ash and vanishing.

Glug, glug...!

Nameld's body began to swell all at once. In a matter of seconds he ballooned to an enormous size, and the crow mask dropped to the ground with a dull clack.

What stood there now was a monster nearly six meters tall, something like a white gorilla. The face that had been hidden behind the mask was a grotesque horror, its forehead plastered with a multitude of eyes. Dark sockets held green pupils that gleamed with a savage light.

Nameld crushed the lantern that had been leaking green demonic energy in one casual fist. The energy sealed within soaked into his body.

"Haaah."

As he sighed, green poison mist came hissing out of him.

An executive of the Demon King's Army. Poison Great Sage Nameld.

In ElWi, he was the one who had been eyeing Ceris's heart all along. Even in Chapter 3, after the fight with Ceris, Nameld hadn't lifted a finger to save her as she lay dying — he had absorbed her heart into his own power instead.

Didn't think he'd pull it from the jump, though. Well. Makes my life easier.

He'd gone and reduced their numbers all on his own. Less work for Ron.

Poison Great Sage Nameld picked up an enormous black cross that had been lying stretched across the ground, and in a courteous register wildly at odds with his hulking frame, he spoke.

"I offer you my respects, Swordmaster. I would be most grateful if you would, in your mercy, kindly die."

Fwooom.

Poison mist bloomed over the cross with a ghastly shiver. The demonic energy packed itself into the weapon with a writhing, twisting sound, like something being wrung out of shape.

Beneath a red sky, Nameld stood with the cross in his grip, countless green eyes blazing. He swung the black cross at Ron.

The compressed mist detonated. Released. Unleashed.

A massive volume of concentrated poison mist burst apart and rolled outward like a sandstorm. The black flowers it touched withered and shriveled in an instant. The power and speed of it were in a different league entirely from the magic he had shown Violet. Nameld had ascended a whole dimension, and the density of the demonic energy packed into that mist had surged with him — far beyond anything Violet's spirits could have driven back. She felt it. All of it.

"Hazley! ...Huh?"

Ron, however, was in no particular hurry.

Howling Wolf Sword Calzark roared in Ron's grip, whipping up a savage gale of silver-gray blade-wind. Iron Claw Wind — the wind magic of the Iron Wolf trait — ballooned violently on the back of Ron's colossal mana. That vast force answered to his will and his will alone.

Ron's blue eyes laid bare a killing intent as straight and true as a blade.

He swept his sword, and the silver-gray storm unfurled.

Iron Claw Wind hurtled forward and smashed head-on into the poison mist. The mist was caught in the gale and either twisted into a towering tornado or was shoved aside, spreading in every direction. Fierce wind snapped at Ron's hair and the hem of his clothes. He clicked his tongue.

Not good enough.

At this rate, the poison mist that Iron Claw Wind failed to stop would reach Violet and her mother.

He cut the technique and slid Howling Wolf Sword back into its sheath with a click. The mist that had been driven back gathered itself once more. Nameld's cross kept pouring out demonic energy, swelling the fog and shoving it forward.

Watching that, Ron closed his hand around the hilt of his second blade — Flame Ghost Blade Hwama.

"Hwama."

The mana-laden word rolled out of him, deep and resonant.

Thump.

Flame Ghost Blade pulsed, sending a wave of mana rippling outward. Goosebumps raced across Violet's skin.

Ron drew the sword.

The black blade came free of its sheath trailing a bloom of blue fire. Blue Flame Ghost — while Flame Ghost Blade was in his hand, Ron could command flames that preyed upon mana itself. The fire drank greedily of a Swordmaster's towering reserves and roared to life.

Ron took the blade in both hands and swept it sideways. Blue flame unfurled along the arc of the cut like a tsunami.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fire surged forward, greedily devouring the poison mist as it went. It was slower than Iron Claw Wind, but the presence of it was overwhelming. Scorching heat baked the air. The withered black flowers caught and burned, scattering ash and dust. And the blue flame hunted the poison mist alone — not a single spark flew toward Violet and her mother at Ron's back.

What... is that?

Violet, who had been ready to draw the Cursed Sword Dansel at any moment, found herself thinking she probably wouldn't need to.

"......!"

Nameld reeled, pulling his demonic energy back, and launched himself at Ron with monstrous leg strength. The blue flame had eaten every last shred of the poison mist. The ground looked as though it had been swallowed by a blue hellfire — an overwhelming vista. Nameld swallowed his fear as best he could.

"Swordmaster!! I beg you to die!!"

He came down through the wind, bringing the cross crashing toward Ron's skull. The instant it fell, a blade already wreathed in fire surged up to meet it.

The two weapons locked. For a split second, it looked as though the demonic energy in the poison mist was being sucked into Flame Ghost Blade's edge. The cross — loaded with all of Nameld's brute strength and demonic energy — slid along the rising black blade at an angle, then—

CLANG!!

—was sent flying helplessly, scattering demonic energy through the air.

"Wha—?!"

Nameld's mouth hung open. The recoil of Wing Unfolding hurled his body backward. The instant his feet touched the ground he leapt away again, and Ron was already on him.

"GRAAAAAAH!!!"

In a last frantic bid, Nameld roared and blasted poison mist from his entire body like a storm. It was useless. The blue flame swallowed that, too. Nameld's demonic energy was nowhere near enough to stand against Ron's fire.

Ron came striding through the shredding mist. What Nameld saw in that moment was a blade-wraith with eyes of burning blue.

And unbidden, a thought surfaced.

I knew. From the very beginning, I never stood a chance.

There was no time to even catch his breath. Nameld screamed with everything he had left and swung the black cross; Ron swung Flame Ghost Blade to meet it.

Clang. Fwoosh. Crrrk.

A dozen exchanges flashed past in an instant. Every time the blade-light flared, a deep cut was carved into Nameld's massive frame, or another piece of him was sheared away. What an utterly unfair blade, Nameld found himself thinking.

Mana collided with mana, and a violent explosion bloomed. At the end of that brief, brutal exchange, Nameld's body was kicked like a ball, sent tumbling and rolling across the ground.

He couldn't stand. With a body beaten to ruin, Nameld stared up at the sky. At some point his arms and legs had been cut away. The rest of him had been ground down. Blue fire was eating his flesh and burning out his demonic energy circuits, wracking him with hideous agony.

So this is how it ends... even after I ate Ceris's heart.

Ron stepped up onto Nameld's chest. The sight of the man standing against the red sky, looking down at him the way one looks down at some lesser creature, burned itself into Nameld's countless retinas.

"It is an honor to die by a Swordmaster's blade...."

"Don't play the noble martyr, demon."

Ron let out a cold snort.

"It's disgusting."

Revulsion coiled in him toward the ones who had trampled Violet's life into the dirt and tried to raise her as a Demon King. In a way, it was almost convenient. In ElWi, the demon race was a species you never ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠needed to cut any slack — which meant he could put them down without a shred of hesitation.

Stung by the contempt, Nameld bared every last eye and ground his teeth.

"You...! How dare you scorn my respect—!"

The instant he gathered what demonic energy he had left to detonate the poison mist—

Shhk.

A blue arc sent Nameld's head flying.

A wash of light, and a green Exit Gate Key settled into my hand.

So the demon Nameld had been the dungeon's boss.

Figures. Trash like this was never going to be a problem.

The highest-ranking executives of the Demon King's Army — the ones actually worth watching out for — were currently sealed. That had happened in the process of subjugating Demon King Alkaid; the original 3rd playthrough had mentioned as much. It was part of why I'd come here so confidently.

No other variables, either.

From the moment I'd entered the dungeon, I'd been sweeping a wide area with a Swordmaster's sensory domain, picking it apart down to the last inch. No presence watching me. Not a scrap of unidentified mana.

Now then...

I turned toward Violet. In the sunlight, she was still holding her mother, staring at me with a dazed expression — relief, wariness, and confusion all living on the same face.

I walked over and went down on one knee in front of her.

"Hazley.... You..."

"This is just... how do I put it. My secret."

Violet's mouth worked soundlessly. I kept going.

"Is your mother all right?"

"Yes. She's just unconscious..."

"That's a relief."

"But..."

"...Violet?"

"......"

She was looking at me like I was a complete stranger. Like she couldn't even find the first word.

Yeah. That's the normal reaction, honestly.

If I'd been in her position, I'd have been the same. Hell, I should probably be grateful she hadn't just shrieked and begged me not to kill her.

I quietly took her hand.

"......!"

Violet flinched, but she didn't pull away. It was a slender, supple hand — and also a hand packed with calluses, the kind you only get from real work. I brought it to my cheek.

Her eyes went wide.

"Can you feel it?"

I smiled, open and easy.

"Look closely. I'm the Ron Hazley you know. Nobody else. Just Ron. Your friend, Ron."

"...Hic."

"You get it now?"

"You're right... it is you, Hazley..."

Maybe my sincerity had actually gotten through. A soft smile rose to Violet's lips, and her eyes went wet. I huffed a quiet laugh and let her hand go. She lowered her gaze.

"Hazley."

"Yeah?"

"I... I don't know how I'm supposed to take all of this. I'm so happy, but I'm also scared, and confused.... You feel so unfamiliar, Hazley..."

She was being completely honest.

"Of course I know you're the Hazley I know, and that you're on my side — I know that so well, but..."

"Hey. That's the kind of thing we can talk through bit by bit. I'll explain later. For now, let's grab what we need and get out of here."

"Grab? Grab what...?"

"Loot, obviously."

"Ah..."

I moved to the spot where the demon Ceris had vanished and picked up a dark grey cloak — the one that had been wrapped around her slender frame.

The artifact: Cloak of Kelius.

Oh hell yes. A high-tier artifact. A cloak that turns the wearer invisible and conceals their presence so long as they aren't actively using mana. Ceris had probably used it to hide herself while she watched Violet.

This is mine now.

High-tier artifacts like this could accept ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a master — and could be stored inside the body. I converted the Cloak of Kelius into a form of mana and tucked it away deep within myself.

"Right. Violet."

"Yes?"

I turned back to her and pointed at the corpse of the high-ranking demonic beast, Poison Monster Bird Popus. It was a massive body, overwhelming just to look at.

"How about making this one your familiar?"

"Pardon...?"

Violet looked blankly back and forth between me and Popus.

"That...?"

"Yeah."

"Me...?"

I nodded, perfectly casual.

Yep. You.