Ch.104Highlight (6)

The performance by the Matrix Troupe was as spectacular and brilliantly directed as promised in the preview, delighting both eyes and ears.

First of all, the actors’ performances were exceptional. Since theater is experienced live by the audience, acting skill is paramount, and the actors’ performances were flawless.

Second was their preparation. As I mentioned before, I added some illustrations to make the Biography of Xenon easier to understand. Though these illustrations only showed character appearances, maps, and a steam locomotive, the Matrix Troupe utilized them perfectly.

The actors playing Xenon, Mary, Jin, and Lilly—I don’t know how they did their makeup, but they matched the illustrations I added perfectly. Jin in particular had such vivid red eyes that I wondered if they had recruited an actual demon, or if they were using some kind of contact lenses.

Finally, there was the directing skill that forms the foundation and identity of the Matrix Troupe. While acting and makeup could be done by other troupes, their directing was unmatched.

Clang! Clang!

“Wow…”

Like the duels I’d seen in the training grounds, beyond the protective barrier, the actors playing Xenon and Sacran were engaged in fierce combat.

While Xenon’s sword moved elegantly to pressure Sacran, Sacran’s massive scythe was simple but each strike was threatening.

Watching a scene reminiscent of actual combat, I realized how hard they must have practiced. They surely went through unimaginable training to coordinate each of these exchanges.

If they were actually fighting, that would be disturbing in its own way.

“For a human, you have impressive skills. Who taught you?”

“There was someone. A master who left without even telling me his name.”

After the brief yet seemingly long battle, a scene from the Biography of Xenon followed. Xenon had a bright, light, yet pleasant voice, while Sacran had a phlegmy, aged voice as if suffering from old age.

In the original work, Sacran was described as having an unsettling voice. The troupe’s dedication to accurately portraying this detail was impressive.

Woooong—

But that wasn’t all. Proving this stage was a collaboration between the Lirus Orchestra and the Matrix Troupe, the Lirus Orchestra played music during key scenes.

During the battle just now, the Lirus Orchestra played urgent music that fit surprisingly well. Adding music to what might have been flat scenes created incredible immersion.

This is what happens when two world-class masters collaborate on a single performance—they’re showing it vividly right now.

As the original author, I couldn’t be happier. I wonder if this is how the authors of The Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter felt when their works were adapted to film.

Various scenes will unfold soon, and I’m curious if they can recreate those as well.

“Where did Mr. Sacran go?”

“That way! He said he sensed a strong demonic presence…!”

“Damn it! Let’s hurry!”

The performance was now racing toward its highlight. It was just before the incident where the demons’ scheme nearly consumed the entire demon country, Devils, in darkness.

There, Sacran, using his accumulated experience and insight, reaches the area where darkness is emerging first, and fights desperately against hordes of demons pouring out like a pack of dogs.

Xenon’s group also helps Sacran and the demon hunters, but the darkness grows uncontrollably, and eventually Sacran makes a major decision…

“…Is that real magic?”

“It looks like it.”

I wondered how they would portray demons swarming like a pack of dogs, but they recreated it perfectly. The entire back of the plain opened like a hole, creating a massive black vortex from which demons I’d only seen in documents poured out.

Though limited by constraints, it wasn’t as numerous as described in the novel where they “filled the sky,” and there was only one vortex. However, that single vortex was large enough to engulf the entire stage.

“That’s actual magic, isn’t it?”

While Marie and I couldn’t hide our amazement, Cecilly sitting next to us seemed surprised in a different way. I widened my eyes questioningly at her words.

“That’s real magic?”

“Yes. It’s a type of illusion magic. It creates illusions that move like real entities according to the caster’s will. But being illusions, they dissipate when they receive a certain amount of impact. Like now.”

I turned my head toward the stage after her explanation. Every time an actor on stage stabbed a weapon into the swarming demons, they dispersed into black smoke in the air.

It seemed they were using illusion magic like a form of CG. But I wondered who would use a magician, and such high-quality illusions at that, for a play.

The world is vast and full of strange people, but the magician who cast this spell must be quite unique in many ways.

“But the illusions turning into black smoke when they dissipate…”

Beside me, Cecilly muttered quietly with concern. Glancing at her expression, she seemed to be piecing something together, tapping her cheek with her finger thoughtfully.

I was about to ask if she had figured something out when—

“Urrrgh… AAAAARGH!”

The rough, agonized scream of an old man pierced my ears. Turning to see what happened, I saw Sacran standing proudly before the massive vortex that looked like a hole in space.

This scene is definitely… Yes. As the vortex grows uncontrollably massive, Sacran absorbs it. In the original work, he flew into the sky through magic and absorbed all the darkness.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

As Sacran began absorbing the vortex, a large drum sound echoed, adding tension. Even I, the original author, felt tense at this moment—I can only imagine how others felt.

Despite dedicating his life to the demon race, Sacran ultimately fails to overcome the darkness and transforms into a demon.

Thud—

“Mr. Sacran!”

“Sacran! Are you alright?!”

After absorbing all the energy from the vortex, Sacran fell to his knees. The others who had been fighting demons rushed to him, but…

“Stay away!”

Sacran shouted at them loudly enough to make the world tremble. His voice was no longer old and phlegmy, but distorted as if with static.

It seems the Matrix Troupe members have the ability to change their voices in real-time. I thought they were both amazing and somewhat obsessive.

Still, the immersion was incredible, so I didn’t show my thoughts. Honestly, it was entertaining.

“Hunters… I’ve always told you. Accept the darkness, but never be ruled by it. If you are ruled, always point your blade toward that darkness.”

Sacran, who had been kneeling, slowly stood up and spoke in a murmur to the people behind him. Along with his distorted voice, dark energy began seeping from his body.

Most notably… demonic wings gradually taking form from his back.

Sacran, unable to overcome the darkness, was beginning to transform into a demon. Sacran, the first leader of the demon hunters, with his immensely powerful strength.

While everyone held their breath watching Sacran slowly transform into a demon, Sacran, who had been blankly staring at the sky, slowly turned around.

The horns that sprouted on his head were impressively large, exuding an overwhelming presence, and his blood-red eyes glowed fiercely like blood, creating an intimidating aura. The true appearance of a demon.

“What are you hesitating for, hunters? Darkness stands before you.”

“… …”

“Point your weapons quickly! This is my final order!”

At the words “final order,” Xenon and the hunters seemed to steel their resolve, gripping their weapons tightly. Their expressions showed a mix of tension, determination, sorrow, and grief.

They must kill with their own hands someone who was once their teacher, their comrade, and someone who had dedicated his life to the demon race.

“Morphesi…”

Finally, with Sacran’s prayer.

“Save us.”

Another tragedy was born.

After his prayer, Sacran slowly approached the group. Whether to delay the fight or because he was still struggling with his inner darkness, one thing was certain.

On his face, filled with solemnity, only anger and hatred remained.

If they hesitated now, there would be no salvation—everyone would be slaughtered.

“AAAAAAAH!”

“No! Crot!”

Perhaps wanting to deny that Sacran had become a demon, one hesitant hunter charged at Sacran with a battle cry.

A comrade called his name from behind, but the hunter had already thrust his sword precisely toward Sacran’s heart.

No. He tried to thrust it.

SPLAT!

In the blink of an eye, one of Sacran’s arms pierced through the hunter’s body.

Bright red blood scattered everywhere, and the hunter struggled like a skewered insect before going limp.

He died instantly, no need to check.

Whoosh— THUD!

Sacran flung his arm as if discarding trash, throwing the hunter away. The hunter’s body, pierced by Sacran’s arm, tumbled across the floor.

As one member instantly became a cold corpse, the hunters stepped back. Beyond hesitation, they were overwhelmed by fear.

Having witnessed Sacran’s power up close, they knew better than anyone that they could never defeat him. Sacran had taught them how to use demonic power and instilled their sense of mission.

These complex emotions intertwined, preventing them from stepping forward despite Sacran’s instructions.

But not our protagonist, Xenon. With a hardened expression, he looked at Sacran and took a step.

“Xenon…”

“… …”

The purple-haired woman, Mary, quietly called his name, but Xenon paid no attention and walked forward steadily.

To bring peace to Sacran, who was more humane than anyone, and to stop the powerful demon before them.

Our protagonist steps forward.

“Morphesi…”

As Xenon drew his sword and quietly recited.

“Grant this one peace.”

The highlight of Volume 5 and the greatest scene in the Biography of Xenon unfolded before our eyes.

Woooong—

Simultaneously, the Lirus Orchestra’s music played. Surprisingly, it was the introduction and final part of “Life” that the Lirus Orchestra had performed.

The mournful sound of string instruments, applied to both Sacran and the entire demon race, created a solemn yet sorrowful atmosphere. It emphasized the tragic nature of the demon race, causing thrilling chills.

The harmony between the best troupe and the best orchestra delivered an indescribable emotion.

Usually, battles are urgent or chaotic, but the battle between Sacran and Xenon somehow seemed sad. In fact, it was hardly a battle—Xenon only wanted to give Sacran peace, not kill him.

The reason Sacran’s weapon was a large “scythe” was similar to Xenon’s feelings. Sacran thought of transformed demons not as demons but as humans.

So killing them was essentially murder, and he was giving them a kind of funeral.

‘…Sigh. Crying is a bit embarrassing.’

Perhaps I was drawn in by the scenes reminiscent of a movie. When the Lirus Orchestra’s “Life” and the battle between Sacran and Xenon unfolded before me, I felt choked up.

Actually, hidden by the music, sniffles could be heard throughout. I pressed the bridge of my nose firmly and checked Cecilly’s reaction. She had cried just from hearing the music before.

So…

“Sob sob sob… huuung…”

“… …”

“It’s… it’s so sad… sob…”

She was crying at the level of wailing.

She was even biting down hard on the handkerchief I had given her earlier.

‘…Let’s just leave her be.’

I focused on the performance again.

*****

While everyone was sobbing or shedding tears over Sacran’s tragedy.

There was someone watching the play from above the stage rather than from the audience seats. His name was Gartz Balack, Cecilly’s knight and a member of the Ripper.

He would have liked to sit next to Cecilly to watch, but the Ripper must always watch from places unknown to others. So he was floating in the air using magic, watching the performance.

“…How sad.”

Even someone who appears emotionally dry is still a demon. As Sacran and Xenon’s battle continued with the sorrowful music, Gartz wiped away tears that had formed at the corners of his eyes.

As a member of the Ripper, which could be considered the model for demon hunters, he couldn’t help but be more immersed than others. Fortunately, no one was around—anyone familiar with his usual stoicism would have been shocked to see him shedding tears.

But not just demons—most people watching the performance were sobbing or saddened. This demonstrates the terrifying power of the performance’s direction and delivery.

It would be nice if the performance ended like this, but…

“…Hmm?”

Gartz’s expression hardened as someone was detected by the security magic he had installed in the mansion. The detection itself wasn’t a problem, but the fact that someone had intruded was.

If it were Issac’s family, it would be easy to overlook, but currently all his family members were watching the performance. This meant an unfamiliar person had trespassed.

Even the knights dispatched from the imperial palace were strictly forbidden from entering private bedrooms, so unless it was an intruder, they wouldn’t be detected by the security magic.

“…Son of a bitch.”

Gartz uttered a sincere curse and flew toward the mansion.

The highlight was coming soon, and he was very curious about who would dare interrupt at this moment.