Ch.132Demon Lord Maker – 7

“Run! If you get trapped, it will be an inglorious death!”

Hearing the voice urging me on, I swung the Dragon Fang Sword once more, unleashing a wave of white flames.

The slash spread outward, and white fire rained down from the sky like a meteor shower, burning and purifying the rotting flesh that covered the ground. Through the flames, the devastated wasteland was revealed.

But that alone wouldn’t be enough to counter the threat. The ghost horse galloped fearlessly across the land that had been purified by the white flames. It moved so fast that the surrounding landscape was nothing but a blur.

“Human! Behind you!”

“Damn, they recover quickly!”

I twisted my shoulders sharply and shot white flames toward the rear of our formation. Dozens of arms that had been trying to grab the tail end of the ghost cavalry were instantly erased. Despite our speed, those things were still stubbornly following us.

It was incredibly awkward to be casting spells and sword techniques in all directions while mounted on horseback. Things had improved with practice, but at first, I had nearly burned our own allies.

Fortunately, thanks to the ghost horse’s unique properties, I didn’t have to worry about riding it. Otherwise, one of three problems would have occurred: friendly fire, falling off the horse, or allowing the enemy to get too close.

“Can’t we go any faster?”

“Understood! Everyone! Charge for honor!”

The pattern repeated for quite some time: I would swing the Dragon Fang Sword, the white flames would clear a path, and the ghost cavalry would rush through. Eventually, the Elder Lich seemed to change its strategy, and the momentum of the rotting swamp briefly faltered.

Instead, the flesh began to clump together, forming the shape of a giant.

Armor formed around its putrid skin, and its arms stretched endlessly as it approached, seemingly trying to surround us. The wasteland caught in its arms was literally plowed through.

“Did you think such petty tricks could stop us, you traitor!”

With a thunderous roar, Durahann hurled his spear with all his might. The spear flew straight like a shell and struck the giant’s head.

—KRRRRRUMBLE!

A sound like thunder echoed across the plain. The spot where the spear hit exploded outward. The giant, which had taken on Durahann’s exact appearance, seemed about to fall backward but then steadied itself and regained its posture.

The exploded head began to regenerate stealthily. Durahann, who had somehow retrieved his automatically returning spear, threw it again upon seeing this. A second thunderclap resounded.

This time the torso exploded, but the giant stubbornly reconstructed its body despite staggering. The arms plowing through the wasteland were getting closer and closer.

“Should we go around? It still seems possible.”

Similar giants were growing on both sides, but the encirclement wasn’t complete yet. If I directed the white flames in another direction, we could probably bypass them.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough time to both deal with the giant and clear a path. Even now, I was constantly swinging my sword to prevent the cavalry of thousands from being surrounded.

“No! You are already doing more than enough! As a knight, I cannot hold us back! Charge straight ahead! I will handle this!”

Firmly rejecting my suggestion, Durahann stored his spear inside the ghost horse’s body. Instead, he raised the sword he had been holding in his other hand. The long blade gleamed with a dark light.

“Behold, traitor! Your disloyalty shall melt away before my honorable strike!”

He slashed his sword diagonally downward. A large line appeared on the distant giant’s body, and then spirits with only upper bodies poured out like a waterfall, devouring the giant’s form.

Undying souls and undying flesh, endless grudges erupting and endlessly regenerating flesh—they all thrashed wildly, fighting for dominance as they tried to crush each other’s existence.

But in the end, the spirits were victorious. Greedily devouring handfuls of flesh they had torn off, the spirits vanished just as they had appeared.

Soon the line disappeared too, and the giant, with its upper body and even part of its forearms evaporated, collapsed helplessly. The rotting flesh that had risen like a wall returned to its mushy state.

“That didn’t seem particularly honorable to me.”

“I gave cowards who died dishonorably a chance to cleanse their sins! It was indeed an honorable strike!”

“……”

Next thing you know, we’ll be hearing about honorable punches and honorable kicks. I ignored him and moved past where the giant had collapsed. If that’s what he wanted to believe, I wasn’t going to argue with him in this situation.

“Death Knights!”

Having failed with other methods, it seemed the enemy was now resorting to the orthodox approach of using numbers. Countless decayed Death Knights emerged from the swamp of flesh.

I unleashed a slash, engulfing them in white flames. Three Death Knights that stubbornly tried to push forward were vaporized, armor and all, before they could take five steps. Nine more took the place of the three that had been vaporized.

“Are all of those Death Knights?”

“That’s how it appears! If my eyes don’t deceive me!”

Behind them swarmed what must have been thousands of armored undead. If ordinary humans had witnessed this, they would have proclaimed it a sign of doom, lost all hope, and collapsed.

But not here.

Durahann threw his spear again with all his might, and the upper bodies of four Death Knights exploded simultaneously. The shattered fragments tried to merge back together but seemed to have taken too much damage and dissolved into the swamp.

“First Legion! Prepare for battle!”

The ghost cavalry that had been diligently following us from behind raised their spear tips. Their charging speed began to increase.

“Do not spare your lives! An honorable death awaits! For the Demon King!”

After some consideration, I quietly suggested a different battle cry. Durahann seemed half-convinced.

“Is that truly an honorable cry? We are ghosts, so we do not eat.”

“When have I ever lied to you? I thought I’d earned enough trust by now.”

“Indeed.”

His helmet nodded up and down, and Durahann raised his spear high and shouted:

“We dine in hell tonight! Charge!”

And with that, we collided head-on with the Death Knights.

A mace was swung. Though the Death Knight was already covered in wounds, the force behind the mace remained undiminished.

“Kuhuk?!”

Despite clearly blocking with his shield, the Royal Guard was sent flying, spitting blood, along with his dented shield. Seeing this, the Red Tower Master immediately cast a healing spell.

The Royal Guard, fully healed before even touching the ground, rolled once to regain his posture and charged back in. Along the way, he cut down dozens of undead that ordinary soldiers had been struggling with in a single strike.

But the situation wasn’t improving easily. There were simply too many Death Knights to be considered just an advance force. The ordinary soldiers were completely useless against the undead army.

“Everyone, stand back.”

The tide turned after the Hero appeared. As a voice like a celestial hymn rang out and golden light illuminated the sky, countless undead were instantly erased, and cheers erupted.

“The Hero has come! The Hero fights alongside us!”

Even the Royal Guards and Tower Masters, who had been struggling terribly against the Death Knights’ coordinated attacks, bowed slightly to show their respect for this salvation, but Leona herself remained indifferent.

‘Mira really was that strong.’

That was all she could think about.

The Royal Guard was an elite order that only the finest knights of the Empire could join, each member reportedly capable of fighting a hundred or even a thousand enemies alone.

Yet they were struggling against Death Knights that Leona could sweep away with a few sword strokes even without the Holy Sword’s light. For Leona, who was used to overwhelming battles, it was quite frustrating to watch.

If Leona Brunhild, who couldn’t even properly exchange blows with Mira a few times, was now dominating the battlefield like a war god, then how strong must Mira be? And what about Sword Saint Rachel, who taught Mira?

For Leona, both were at levels she couldn’t even begin to fathom.

‘Wouldn’t it be better to just stay out of this rather than increasing the area I need to protect?’

As she continued to move freely across the battlefield, that’s what Leona thought. It was a thought the original Hero would never have had, but natural given that the person who shaped the current Hero was Mira, not Aria.

Regardless of her thoughts, Hero Leona Brunhild repelled the subsequent undead attacks as well, allowing the human army to rest earlier than expected.

A meeting was promptly called to discuss the unexpectedly high quality of the undead army.

“The ordinary soldiers are a hindrance. Send them back.”

“But Hero, even the soldiers we have now are carefully selected elites. Many are knights, not just ordinary soldiers. When we’re already outnumbered, if you say that…”

“If you’re suggesting we should add those carefully selected elites and knights to the enemy’s forces, then by all means, go ahead. Was my performance lacking? It seems you want me to kill our own soldiers who were allies until just now.”

Though her words were quite cutting, no one at the meeting could deny them. In the end, it was decided to send back most of the forces, keeping only those who could truly be called elite.

‘I miss Mira and Aria.’

As the discussion of strategy and tactics began in earnest, Leona, who hadn’t learned much about such things, simply spent the time in a daze. And no one dared to disturb the Hero.

By the end of the meeting, Leona, having been assigned her role for the next battle, returned to her personal tent, which was larger and more spacious than even the supreme commander’s. Perfect silence fell as she leaned the Holy Sword against her bedside.

—Hero.

Or it would have been silent if the voice hadn’t come from the Holy Sword. Leona wasn’t particularly surprised when the sword began to speak with a soft golden glow. She’d been surprised enough the last time.

“Goddess.”

She responded casually while collecting her thoughts. In the past, she would have hurriedly knelt before the Holy Sword and answered with reverence, but not now.

“Shouldn’t there have been someone else you should have spoken to before talking to me?”

—I… know that. But it was unavoidable.

“How unavoidable was it?”

The goddess fell silent. As Leona waited for an answer, her distrust of the goddess grew even stronger.

It was an attitude a Hero should never show, but the goddess’s suspicious behavior toward Mira made it impossible for Leona to be flustered by the goddess’s name alone as she once would have been.

Going deeper, one might say that Mira’s presence and relationship had become far more significant in Leona’s heart than the goddess, but Leona’s self-awareness was slightly lacking to realize this fact.

—…I cannot tell you now. But later, when you come to the celestial realm, you will understand everything. I can promise you that with all that I am.

“So you’re putting it off again. Just like you did with Mira.”

—…

“Just like you did with Mira.”

—…

She considered emphasizing it once more but decided against it. It would be troublesome if the goddess took away the Holy Sword out of spite.

As the sword continued to remain silent, Leona began to feel guilty for being too harsh—she was still a goddess after all—and was just about to kneel properly before the Holy Sword when:

“ENEMY ATTACK!!!!!!”

A bright light flared outside the tent, and the powerful shout of a Royal Guard was heard. Leona quickly grabbed the Holy Sword and rushed out of the tent.

“De… mon… King…?”

And there, with pink pupils glowing in the darkness, wielding the Demon Sword in a form identical to the one in her memories, her eyes met Ellisiere’s.

Due to the cancellation of the counterattack plan, Rosaria had become idle, and Ellisiere and Laura, who were forbidden from participating in battle because they were still academy students (regardless of their actual abilities), were sitting quietly in the club room.

Priscilla and Aria were training with Karna in place of the Sword Saint, who had left after receiving urgent news, so they weren’t in the room. Thanks to Aria’s absence, everyone was relaxed, when suddenly Ellisiere frowned.

“What’s wrong? Did you bite your tongue?”

“…I have a bad feeling.”

“In what sense? Like someone’s going to die? If you’re going to say something ominous like that…”

Rosaria made a fist that was soft as could be and assumed a boxing stance. Being a complete novice, and with her chest pushing her elbows outward, she looked rather awkward.

“It is not like that.”

When Ellisiere firmly denied it, Rosaria dropped her stance.

“Then what is it?”

“…I do not know.”

“Hey! Are you messing with me?”

As Rosaria pounced without even knowing the subject and was pinned down with just one finger, Ellisiere pondered the cause.

But no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t identify the source of the uneasiness, and the uncomfortable feeling wouldn’t go away.

“Hey… I’m sorry… so could you please get off me…? Your chest is pressing down on me and it’s hard to breathe…”

‘…I do not know. I do not know. I wish I were simply being foolish and worrying needlessly.’

Her mind was troubled. In her current state, unable to open a dimensional gate, all Ellisiere could do was stay confined to the academy and pray for the safety and well-being of the two who had left before her.

“Excuse me…? Miss Ellisiere…? I was eating something just before, and if you sit on my back like this, my stomach is against the flooooooor?!”