Ch.1143Yeah, I Don’t Believe You.

======[ Garden ]======

Since Heirek’s old tale was so verbose, Demian only half-listened to most of it, but he still grasped the key points precisely.

Hybrid monsters and undead monsters, the origin of his holy sword Caliburn.

The story of the destruction four thousand years ago, and the failures two thousand and eight hundred years ago.

The fact that the culprit behind it all was an ancient god called Wodanaz—or Alfodhr in Xanten—and a warning about the tragedy he would bring forth.

Elpinel had prepared a dagger named Haschal to prevent that tragedy, but there was a hint that she had some fundamental flaw.

And finally, the truth that Demian himself and this old man Heirek before him were prepared as insurance for that very reason.

These were all shocking revelations that would have left anyone else utterly astonished.

But perhaps because Demian had lived too long without emotions, even now his emotional intensity remained diluted compared to others.

That’s why, even after hearing stories that would have left others flabbergasted, he was merely somewhat interested rather than shocked.

…However, the final statement Heirek uttered was something that even Demian couldn’t dismiss without feeling anything.

The story that Heaven had prepared him as insurance in case Elpinel’s plan went awry.

It was a difficult notion for Demian to accept.

Was it because of the shock that his entire life thus far had been merely a puppet show designed and guided by the ascended goddess, Elpinel?

No, that wasn’t it.

If Haschal had been in his position, she might have expressed obvious displeasure at this fact, but Demian himself didn’t care about it at all.

‘…So what? That’s only natural.’

His sensitivity wasn’t delicate enough to receive emotional shock from such a realization.

After all, the concept of gods controlling human destiny was common knowledge in this world.

What Demian found disturbing wasn’t the fact that Elpinel had arranged his life in advance.

‘…What am I supposed to do?’

It was the content of the destiny arranged by the goddess, the role and duty he was to assume in the goddess’s plan.

‘Kill Haschal and take her power…?’

Kill Haschal if she goes berserk. Kill her and take her divinity to fulfill her destiny in her place. That is your purpose and role.

‘…Why should I?’

It was an absurd directive for Demian.

Kill Haschal? Setting aside whether such a thing was even possible, if he were to actually do such a thing, there could be no greater ingratitude.

Demian wasn’t that unconscionable.

Haschal was his benefactor, friend, teacher, and lord who had supported and trained him in every way to become as strong as he was now.

He had received so much help from her that he couldn’t even count it all anymore, so how could he possibly stab such a person in the back?

Of course, most of that “help” had consistently been violence, more violence, and even greater violence, so honestly, it had been difficult to accept gratefully…

‘But that doesn’t mean I should kill her.’

That was just a minor complaint, not enough to harbor resentment or hostility.

‘I don’t even understand what this “berserk” means, so how am I supposed to accept and trust such words?’

Therefore, this old man named Heirek, who claimed to have come to help him kill Haschal, was essentially a potential enemy to Demian.

‘If I tell him I have no intention of doing so and ask him to leave, he probably won’t withdraw quietly. In that case, should I at least give him a warning…?’

For this reason, as soon as Heirek finished speaking, Demian swung his sword without hesitation, aiming precisely at the other’s heart area.

…Isn’t that an ambush rather than a warning?

Well, Demian didn’t even realize he was being excessive.

He firmly believed that a warning shouldn’t end with just a few threatening words, but should be accompanied by an attack filled with killing intent to be meaningful.

People—especially the strong ones—are mostly stubborn and rigid, only willing to listen to others’ intentions when a blade is at their throat.

That’s what Demian believed.

Just like the second closest person to him preferred to mock and provoke enemies rather than persuade them with words, before dealing with them using a sword.

‘When he truly thinks he’s going to die, he’ll at least pretend to listen.’

As they say, if you get close to ink, you’ll get stained.

Though Demian himself hadn’t realized it yet, his way of thinking had already come to resemble Haschal’s quite a bit.

—-

The holy sword, drawn from subspace, was wrapped in undulating flame-like pure white holy light, and crossed the air as fast and violently as a striking lightning bolt.

– Kiiiiing…!

The sharp blade, capable of tearing even dragon scales like paper, glowed eerily with white heat.

It was a slash that concentrated the holy light that threatened to burst out like waves onto the blade, narrowing the attack range while maximizing its power.

Although it wasn’t truly meant to kill but rather to establish dominance and serve as a warning, it was a sword strike too vicious for anyone to consider it merely a warning.

“What are you doing…!”

Heirek, who had just finished his long story and was about to catch his breath, was so startled that he jumped up involuntarily.

‘He’s attacking me? Now?’

Of course, Heirek wasn’t surprised by the power. The ability to cut through dragon scales was quite common by the standards of the old era.

‘Why…? He should have understood I’m not an enemy. Could there have been some misexpression in my words?’

Heirek was simply bewildered by the fact that after taking the time to explain everything in detail, the response he got was an ambush.

‘…No, I need to block it first.’

But even that bewilderment lasted only a moment.

Since he would lose his head if he lost focus, Heirek forcibly suppressed his confused feelings and drew upon his holy power to cast a defensive miracle.

『 Omnia retortant. 』

It was more like a spell than a prayer.

『 Et claustrum Helix compositis. 』

Several strands of brilliant light gathered in front of the old man’s outstretched right hand, and then flashed explosively the next moment.

– Hwaaaak!

The bursting lights crossed and intertwined in a spiral pattern, distorting the surrounding space and forming a complex and bizarre corridor of light.

This was Zarem’s highest defensive miracle, the Complex Spiral Distortion Corridor.

The holy sword that was swung to cleave through the middle of the light corridor that had formed disappeared into it without any resistance, and then—

– Wooong…!

It emerged abruptly from the empty space behind Demian, swinging fiercely toward its own master.

“Kuk…! From behind!”

Startled by the chilling sensation that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, Demian barely managed to stop his arms.

Behind the halted blade of the holy sword, his partially cut collar and hair scattered like flower petals and burned up.

‘That was dangerous. If I had been just a little slower…’

Demian sighed faintly as he removed the holy sword from near his collar. Cold sweat ran down his cheek.

The defensive miracle Heirek had cast was a spatial distortion miracle that twisted and connected the surrounding space, sending attacks coming toward him behind the attacker.

“…Using spatial distortion to target my back? You use quite underhanded methods despite your appearance.”

Moreover, there was no noticeable sign or aftermath except for the initial light strands, making it difficult for the opponent to realize that their attack was flying toward the back of their own head.

Even Demian had barely stopped his arms in a hurry due to some inexplicable ominous feeling; if he had ignored that feeling, he would have ended up decapitating himself.

“That’s my line. What on earth are you doing?”

In the meantime, Heirek, who had retreated a couple of steps to create distance, pointed his right hand at Demian and protested with a face half-mixed with irritation and confusion.

“I explained clearly, didn’t I? I am not an enemy but have come to help you!”

With a sharp gaze and a voice like a rebuke, as if criticizing the rudeness of swinging a sword at someone who had come to help.

“I don’t need it. You say you’ll give me the power to kill Haschal? I would never want such a dubious help.”

Of course, Demian denied this outright.

His principle of action—what Haschal would have called “belief”—strongly rebelled against Heirek’s offer.

Demian’s principle of action was truly simple.

Protecting those who had helped him, and devoting himself wholeheartedly to what they wanted from him. That was all.

This was true not only in his life before gaining emotions but also after acquiring something that could be called emotions.

His mother, who had raised him when he was still young, told him to help others and live among them, so he followed.

The parents of Millia, who had taken in the orphaned Demian, wished for their daughter’s happiness and well-being, so he protected Millia with his life in their stead.

Millia’s wish, who taught him how to naturally blend in among others, was to live with him for the rest of her life.

This was something Millia herself achieved after various twists and turns.

Lastly, what Haschal, who had spared no support for Demian to become stronger, wanted was for him to become even stronger and be her reliable assistant.

“…I’ll say it again. I don’t need power meant for betrayal.”

That’s why Demian firmly rejected Heirek’s offer.

“Besides, I can’t even guess what kind of tricks you might have set up, so why would I happily accept such power?”

What Haschal wanted from him was to become stronger to guard her back or fight alongside her, not to use that power to stab her in the back.

“Power is what you make of it! I understand your concerns, but this is insurance for when she goes berserk. If she doesn’t go berserk, there’s nothing to worry about!”

“The very possibility of it is what matters.”

Although Heirek, exasperated, shot back a few words in frustration, it wasn’t easy to persuade the stubborn Demian who refused to lower his guard.

“…You’re so stubborn!”

“Put yourself in my position. Would you believe it?”

In the middle of the night garden.

Concentrating their powers to suppress the aftermath that might spread to the surroundings, the Holy King of Zarem and the Warrior of Elpinel continued their quiet blood feud and emotional argument.