Ch.209Chapter 209: The Devourer (4)

Though the northern wind at this time of year was merely a mild breeze compared to the biting gales of winter—

For the citizens of the Archipelago, Solarium, the current wind brought a chill that made all their previous experiences with cold seem laughable.

As expected of the Archipelago, which enjoyed the broadest benefits from magical engineering advancements.

Had they been indoors, they would have appreciated winter’s charm from behind windows in buildings equipped with excellent heating systems that could overcome the occasional cold spell.

But when venturing outside where the cold wind blew fiercely, they had to rely not on magical engineering but on the insulating capabilities of their clothing.

The usually overcrowded downtown area of the Archipelago was now so deserted that “desolate” wouldn’t be an inappropriate description.

Yet deserted didn’t mean completely empty.

Today’s downtown was dominated by two groups: a handful of ordinary citizens bundled in thick clothing that would make northerners think they were dressed for winter on a spring day, and Imperial Knights in armor, hurrying somewhere with bodies hardened by rigorous training that made them less susceptible to the cold.

Despite the cold, the citizens trying to relieve their accumulated stress downtown had lively expressions, but—

“What? A demon appeared at Glory of Morning Night? Hey! Run!”

“How dare it cause trouble in our treasured restaurant?”

“Damn, that demon is dead meat.”

The knights rushing to respond to the demon sighting exuded a murderous aura that even the cold seemed to fear and avoid.

And rightfully so.

For knights who spent day and night working for the empire’s peace, wearing their bodies down as a daily routine—

A restaurant that offered delicious, nutritious food at reasonable prices was nothing short of a treasure.

When they received reports of a demon causing trouble in such a place, it was only natural that their anger would overwhelm reason.

As the knights advanced toward their target with heavy, menacing auras—

“Ugh…”

At their destination, a man was moving with reluctant steps, his voice laden with obvious irritation.

Unlike the citizens shivering in the cold with extra-thick clothing, the man wore only a dark red suit without an overcoat.

His irritated voice might have been attributed to suffering from the cold in weather-inappropriate attire, but—

“…Damn it.”

The continuous stream of complaints suggested his annoyance stemmed from something other than the cold.

An ordinary person would have exhaled visible white breath just by opening their mouth in this weather, but—

“Today is completely ruined… Ugh.”

Instead of the misty white breath one would expect from someone in noble-looking attire, however ill-suited for the weather—

“Huuuuuuuh…”

His exhalations produced hot, shimmering air visible even from a distance.

Even without resorting to literary metaphors like “breath of anger,” his demeanor was clearly unsettling.

Had the downtown been crowded as usual, his breath alone would have drawn everyone’s attention, but—

“Just when I finally found a good restaurant to enjoy a leisurely meal…”

Despite his rough language and continuous movement, strangely few people noticed him, even accounting for the reduced crowd.

It was as if he were invisible to their eyes.

“I’ve grown weak. In the old days, I could have confidently walked around the Imperial Palace without being detected.”

And just as others failed to notice him, he seemed equally unaware of his surroundings, continuing his monologue without pause.

At first glance, his words sounded like boasting, or even nonsensical lies, but—

The heat emanating from his mouth, so at odds with the season, had a strange power that made his boasts seem credible.

With no one paying him any attention, his monologue seemed destined to continue uninterrupted like his footsteps, but—

“Of all times, why did my disguise have to fail right when I was enjoying delicious food and my emotional restraint was loosening?”

Having vented his frustration, the man suddenly stopped walking, his tone becoming more analytical as he calmly assessed the situation.

His disguise had failed. What could this mean?

It was difficult to understand the meaning of his words from just this, so let’s pay closer attention.

“And even with my disguise failing, if only an ordinary Imperial Knight had shown up, I could have distorted their perception with a gesture and stayed longer, but why did an off-duty Holy Sword Wielder have to appear?”

Now the man’s meaning became clearer.

The man—no, the demon Rust disguised as a human male—was recounting what had just happened to him in a relatively composed tone.

“Nothing’s going right today. I’m ruined, absolutely ruined.”

…Though his tone had calmed somewhat, his grumbling attitude remained unchanged.

Having recognized that an unexpected obstacle had derailed his grand plan for the day, he couldn’t help but continue complaining.

“I couldn’t believe it… how can a girl barely past her twenties by human standards handle a holy sword like it’s a bamboo stick…”

Rust’s expression filled with worry.

After spending time on another continent away from the Central Continent, enjoying himself while avoiding the watchful eyes of the Magic Realm that were determined to eliminate him—

He had returned due to a sudden nostalgia for the Archipelago, which had become like a second home, introducing him to the greatness of human civilization and its cultural pleasures.

To celebrate his return, he had chosen his first destination for a culinary tour, only to encounter an unexpected obstacle—hence his worry beyond mere irritation.

Even in the old days, when he was blind but possessed overwhelming power, confronting a Holy Sword Wielder was something to be avoided.

Now, after many years, when he could no longer wield that same level of power, it was even more imperative to avoid such confrontations.

“Should I go to another continent again to enjoy myself…”

As worry after worry spilled from Rust’s lips—

“…Huh?”

His movement, which had continued despite his grumbling, suddenly stopped as a question escaped his mouth.

What had made him stop walking away from the place where the Holy Sword Wielder, a disaster for him, was located?

He had halted to identify the cause of the sudden cold sensation on his left cheek—a cold that should have had no effect on him.

In truth, even as he stopped to assess the cause, Rust already knew.

For someone like him with skin as strong as steel, impervious to external environments, to feel even the slightest cold meant something had happened to his skin.

“What? This can’t be happening?”

Though he verbally denied the possibility while lightly touching his cold left cheek with his right hand—

When he stopped touching it and looked at something on his right hand, Rust’s expression inevitably contorted.

Blood—unlike humans, his was a glossy black liquid, tainted by demonic energy—was smeared on his hand.

“…When did this happen?”

Rust’s thoughts focused entirely on trying to recall when he might have been injured on the face, having stopped walking completely.

Of course, trying to pinpoint when this injury had occurred was like searching for a needle in a sand dune, given that it had suddenly started bleeding while he was walking.

“…No way.”

But perhaps he had found that needle.

After wiping the blood from his hand, Rust’s expression filled with doubt and bewilderment.

It was just a facial wound that he could regenerate at will, and yet—

“…This is troublesome.”

Why was this demon showing concern on his face, forgetting to regenerate his wound, and sinking back into contemplation?

“…Hah.”

As Rust sighed softly, his mind replayed the moments from the restaurant he had just left.

Past the scene where his disguise had failed due to his emotional outburst despite his weakened power—

He recalled the Holy Sword Wielder who had rushed into the restaurant to confront him, and the man who had followed her like a shadow.

He couldn’t help but remember, because—

“Tsk, I definitely dodged it smoothly, yet my face got cut?”

Throughout everything that happened today, that was the only moment when the threat against him had materialized.

The man wielding a sword—not a holy sword but visibly sharp—had swung at him with the intent to subdue.

He was certain he had dodged it smoothly, but—

The blood flowing from his cheek indicated that his evasion had been meaningless.

“Huuuuh…”

A sigh of indeterminate emotion escaped Rust’s lips.

Unlike earlier, when each sigh had emitted invisible heat that pushed away the cold—

Now his breath came out as white mist, fully reflecting the outside chill.

“I’ll leave the wound unhealed until I remove the cause.”

Abandoning his earlier grumbling, Rust’s voice now exuded a coldness that matched the outside weather, and—

*Thud, thud*

As he resumed his halted steps, Rust’s body gradually became blurry—

Then the figure that had been calmly traversing the downtown area vanished without a trace.

Though this was the most striking scene among all that had transpired during his walk—

No one noticed that a demon disguised as a human had been there.

People remained focused solely on enduring the cold that was so unsuited to the region.