Ch.23076. The Blasphemer.

# The Composition is Truly Bizarre

Delica’s body has been hijacked, and now the intruder is threatening Lutetia’s life.

Including the one whose head just flew off, weren’t all three of you on the same side?

“Instead of glaring daggers at me, why not speak your mind?”

The figure snickers mockingly before suddenly reaching toward Lutetia.

This… isn’t something I can stop with a simple attack.

He’s probably prepared for Delica’s body to be damaged or even killed.

I realized this immediately because I had already anticipated it.

If I respond carelessly here, I might face a counterattack that leads to an irreversible situation.

“Hmm?”

I swing Mistilteinn to neutralize his response.

Given our positions, I wasn’t in a position to shield Lutetia.

“Another clever trick.”

As I swing my sword, I transfer the physical phenomenon created by that swing.

It’s not easy, but it’s the best option right now.

Traveling through the darkness with my whole body would be too slow.

Moreover, considering this is Delica’s body, I focus on deflecting rather than cutting.

I’m accustomed to using the blunt edge like a staff or pole, putting my body into the swing to push and deflect.

Doing this artificially in mid-air, predicting the movements of someone far away and accounting for them within range—it was exhausting.

“Always choosing the strangest techniques…”

I transfer through space during a brief opening and appear before him.

Then I thrust my sword forward again, and he responds with equal agility.

For a moment, a chill that seemed to steal my senses penetrated my body… but I neutralize it with heat.

“You respond immediately.”

I preemptively prevent the chill from infiltrating my body.

Simply holding Hebatein allows me to reflexively deploy such countermeasures.

“I’m annoyed by your passivity. A fight should have the thrill of give and take.”

He grumbles.

Yet he doesn’t stop looking for openings.

From the beginning, he wasn’t targeting me but deliberately aiming for Lutetia.

…And I must also consider the fact that Lutetia could target me at any moment.

My actions to save and help her are entirely selfish.

She has no obligation to feel grateful or thankful to me for them.

…In some ways, I’m living quite a tiresome life, but considering it tiresome and difficult is ultimately just another aspect of my weakness.

“What exactly are you trying to accomplish?”

“Isn’t crushing you the immediate concern?”

“You know better than anyone that it would be pointless.”

“Whether it has meaning or not isn’t your concern.”

With my sword still swinging, tendrils of darkness extend in multiple directions.

“More pointless actions!”

The technique of separating Mistilteinn.

It’s extremely difficult to achieve such phenomena when I can barely form and maintain the dark sword.

But perhaps it’s because I have a foundational tool.

…The one I’m holding now allows for much more agile changes in form and function than before.

So.

“What?!”

This too is possible.

Dozens of dark tendrils surge through space, each tearing through different areas as they converge on him.

He responds and evades them with surprising skill.

His control over the body was beyond imagination.

‘As expected…’

Does he also possess it?

If I had tried to face him while handling mana normally, I would have been defeated quickly.

Unlike Grandeus’s swordsmanship, His Majesty the Emperor’s techniques are arts of the chosen ones, predicated on genius and excellence, maximized through effort and research.

…Coincidentally, they would be meaningless to someone like me.

However, the ability and capacity to implement and utilize them couldn’t be overlooked.

In fact, he was evading the converging dark blade fragments that surrounded him from all directions with astonishing efficiency.

No beast could display movements more excellent and appropriate than that.

…And it was even more terrifying that he could do this with someone else’s body.

“Using only cursed arts! Aren’t you ashamed?!”

“……”

Wasn’t winning by any means necessary?

Or are you the type who believes you must win without regard for methods?

“Ha!”

He kicks off the air.

Like an arrow shot, he charges toward me, his target.

Can he gain that much propulsion just by kicking off the air?

No.

He momentarily froze the atmosphere to use as a foothold.

Moreover.

“?”

Even though I had considered this and swung my fragmented blades to surround his path.

He breaks through them with his bare body.

‘…Similar.’

Wasn’t this the principle behind the ice armor Minessa usually wears?

The strange power of freezing the surface of the body to create armor, though invisible.

If this too is an application and aspect of that power…

‘Why he’s using her abilities so casually… setting that aside for now.’

I don’t have the luxury to consider various circumstances right now.

Having reached his goal, he swings his arm, sending a barrage of ice crystals like blades amid the frost.

All of which…

“You bastard?”

I returned to him.

If I can swing my sword in the air and stab it to affect distant or different places, why wouldn’t that work?

Didn’t he understand that when he charged in?

“Try handling this then!”

Suddenly, a massive ice wall forms right in front of me.

When it collapses unexpectedly with a storm of frost, it transforms into a phenomenon more ferocious than an avalanche.

“……”

As I sweep it all up with Hebatein’s flames, a cloud of steam evaporates, burying the surroundings in white mist.

‘This is…’

As expected.

The steam itself began to freeze solid.

I quickly extracted myself… but this range is quite extensive by any measure.

Moreover.

That mobility, transferring seamlessly between steam and ice… it wasn’t ordinary.

‘Persistent.’

He could have targeted me but again deliberately aims for Lutetia.

I thrust Mistilteinn, spreading tendrils to create a dark barrier wall in front of him.

As those tendrils split further to pierce his body, his pierced flesh disperses like steam, losing form again.

Although I surrounded Lutetia with a barrier wall, some steam must have settled inside.

He manages to transfer even into that space.

“Unbelievable…”

A situation where we both understand each other.

Me, naturally assuming he would go that way, and him, knowing that but diving in anyway.

“Hyah! Ha!”

Cheerfully, with boisterous laughter, he jumps and plays in the air, using the tendrils as stepping stones.

By the time I dismantled the barrier wall, my body had already reached between them.

‘Is this also…’

A stalling tactic?

Thump!

His outstretched hand was about to pierce Lutetia’s forehead.

I grab that hand and guide his body away like flowing water.

As a result, he falls away to an unexpected place.

I too am dragged along, rolling with him.

“Who asked you to grab me, you idiot?!”

I immediately felt a strong repulsive force.

But I never intended to match him in strength.

Instead, I let myself be pulled along.

Lowering my center of gravity firmly.

I disrupt his balance.

There’s no special trick to it.

I’m just using the principles of human anatomy.

But even with a broken wrist and dislocated joints, he won’t stop or restrain his movements.

After all, it’s not his body, and pain is just something to endure.

However, no matter how skilled he is.

“What?!”

When his range of motion, his space, is blocked, everything changes.

A tendril of darkness rises between his right ankle and knee, restricting his movement.

Simultaneously.

Instead of pulling the hand I’m holding, I push it.

A small tendril formed behind his left ankle neutralizes his careless step backward.

Even the most extraordinary person becomes defenseless when falling.

Here, he might try to use my grip against me, but.

I willingly let go of his hand.

Then I thrust Hebatein into the ground.

He reacts reflexively, anticipating something, but.

Nothing happens.

Interpreting this as my intended direction—him sprawling defenseless on the ground—

His body is suspended in mid-air.

Perhaps he thought the ground darkened with shadows was my domain, my territory.

Or maybe he attributed meaning to my action of thrusting Hebatein into the ground.

Again, he freezes the air and strikes his palm downward, using the recoil to propel himself into the air.

“……”

But that was exactly what I wanted.

The maneuverability on the ground versus in the air was clearly different.

Besides, you’ve been freezing the air to use as support and footholds to move, right?

What if that becomes impossible?

“Para Ensis.”

I speak the command.

Though I feel considerable aversion to having to verbalize something when I’m not a mage.

…I haven’t grown enough yet to skip this process.

“Micate.”

All the powers used by him and me.

And the Tenebra I had formed.

They are all sucked into a single point, an entrance to the void and emptiness beyond.

“……”

By dismantling Tenebra, there’s a possibility that Lutetia might act up again.

…But thanks to him, that possibility is small.

From the beginning, this fight was just an exaggerated play, a simple game.

“Ascension.”

Ascension and extinction.

Sound disappears.

All scenery is enveloped in silence.

His body, after rising, falls helplessly toward the ground.

No additional measures are being taken.

Immediately after.

Light shoots up vertically, enveloping the entire airspace where he had been.

Once again, light embraces the world.

A light completely separate from concepts like gentleness, love, or mercy.

Destruction.

It manifests as a phenomenon, casting finality over the eternity of a moment.

“……”

The primordial light.

I still… don’t quite understand it.

—

“Kuhak!”

If someone who had been acting so composed suddenly hunches over and violently coughs and dry heaves.

How would you interpret that?

“……”

Despite two of the Nine Heroes giving their all, they could barely defend, let alone defeat or kill him.

Of course, each hero has their own suitable battlefield and fighting style.

But even so, this is abnormal.

Is he truly a being from the demon realm?

Moreover, in an infiltrated space, a demonized space… short decisive battles are the priority, so the limits were clear.

“I doubt he’s giving us time to catch our breath.”

Gazef showed no signs of fatigue yet.

Only small wounds across his body and patches of fur that seemed singed by flames were visible.

“If it’s not deception… something must have happened.”

As for Loroana, her appearance and behavior remained the same as before.

Direct confrontation was never her specialty to begin with.

But her presence was the very reason why that being couldn’t easily overwhelm Gazef.

If only one of them had been present, the situation would have been resolved quickly.

That’s why Loroana had been constantly suppressing her presence while observing him.

“Having to ignore an obvious opening. Tsk.”

“Controlling your temper is quite an improvement, isn’t it?”

“I can’t tell if you’re mocking me or praising me.”

After fiddling with his horn and realizing it was about to split at the tip, Gazef became angry again.

“Do you know how much effort I put into growing and maintaining this… Huh!”

“Stop making a fuss and concentrate.”

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

Like a serious case patient.

Despite their banter, neither had taken their eyes off that being for even a moment.

“……”

The dark being with folded arms.

He seemed to turn his gaze toward the two.

Though his eyes weren’t visible, his head was facing this way, so that’s how they perceived it.

“So I assume you don’t plan to just endure. What’s your scheme?”

“Don’t use difficult words. What are you—”

“You’re waiting to sweep us away in one go, aren’t you?”

“This guy…?”

“What? Did you really think you were matching him equally? Your instincts have dulled. No, perhaps it’s not time for that yet.”

The War God clicked his tongue.

However, the two here don’t know that he is the War God, or that he is the one and only, unique, unprecedented commander of the demon realm.

They simply recognized an evil presence and thought only that they must defeat it, must stop it.

“Fine. It’s not like we can reason with him anyway.”

Though his aura and pressure remained unchanged from the beginning.

When they deliberately charged in, the threat took on a different dimension.

Only then did they realize.

This guy, until now, had only been using strange abilities; he hadn’t charged in bare-handed even once.

They had assumed that was just his specialty.

“Ugh?!”

Why are familiar movements and responses coming from this bastard?

“What the hell are you?!”

“Good instincts.”

He immediately withdrew all his mana, even releasing what he had been using into the air.

If he had continued to maintain it, he would have been countered.

Only one—no, two—mental patients Gazef knew could perform such insane feats.

“Why and how are you using that crazy emperor’s techniques?!”

Moreover, it was at least one or two levels above what he had been handling.

Originally, the emperor needed at least a fraction of a second for analysis and response after contact.

But this being was trying to completely twist and overturn his internal mana circulation and utilization before even making contact.

“Good things should be shared, shouldn’t they?”

This bastard needs some bitter medicine.

“Lo! Did you hear me?!”

He didn’t needlessly blurt out words pretending to be surprised.

“…Sigh.”

He’s clearly underestimating us.

Loroana felt irritation before crisis awareness.

She had never lived carelessly and had always strived to fulfill her role and set an example.

…To think an insurmountable obstacle, different from aging, would appear.

“But you know.”

The War God, who had been quietly observing their attitudes.

He tilted his head and said.

“That’s not all, is it?”

The dark being who had somehow produced a curved blade.

He took a familiar stance.

“…A terrible joke.”

Of all things, why that?

It’s not that the stance itself is scary or frightening.

It’s that the damned bastard who takes that stance, for whatever reason, is somewhat terrifying yet reliable.

Moreover, to have it aimed at themselves, what a meaningless nightmare.

With the left arm extended straight forward.

The right hand also extended straight, holding the blade…

“At least it’s not a sword.”

At Gazef’s murmur.

“A blade is more suitable.”

With those words, he slid toward Gazef, thrusting the blade.

“Haha!”

Laughter escapes involuntarily.

Just being near him causes interference with mana utilization.

And now his swordsmanship… no, his blade handling…

‘Is he insane?’

Is this bastard actually a demon lord?

The techniques are familiar, and since parting with them, he had diligently researched and pondered ways to counter them just in case… that’s how he’s enduring.

Otherwise, he would have been finished right after engaging.

Here, it’s possible to endure because it’s Gazef, because it’s Loroana… that would be accurate.

Moreover, that swordsmanship, or rather blade skill… though different from his, this one seemed much more familiar and suitable.

‘I thought Rueld’s swordsmanship was strange.’

That bastard should have been holding a blade.

The emperor and Rueld.

What would it be like to face a madman who combined the arts, techniques, and skills of those two?

But that’s not a madman…

‘Isn’t that just a god?’

If those two are geniuses among geniuses, and if someone is even more extraordinary than them.

…What is that if not divine talent?

Loroana burst out:

“Instead of admiring, figure out how to respond!”

“But this is! Ugh! This doesn’t make sense!”

The strange abilities he had been handling were already giving them trouble! And now hand-to-hand combat too?

“Tch!”

Reluctantly, Loroana suppressed her presence and concealed her form.

However, thanks to black chains tearing through the ground, her concealment was quickly broken.

“It’s not difficult to respond, but when someone of your caliber hides, it makes me uneasy.”

“…Sigh!”

This is the worst.

Whether handling his body or abilities, he seems to have no difficulty with concentration or dividing his consciousness.

Of course, using many complex things might cause issues with consciousness distribution.

…At least in a state of full physical and mental strength, expecting such weaknesses would be difficult.

“Ugh!”

Fortunately, Gazef deflected the flat of the blade, resulting in only a partial cut to his waist.

“Damn! Making me nervous!”

“Why such a fuss over something so minor.”

Though not visible, his smirk could be felt.

“You bastard!”

“Oops.”

Instead of wasting time responding, he should focus on countering.

Not indulging in the same time-wasting mockery would be his non-advantage advantage.

Sensing this, the War God swung his blade down to cut his thigh.

He reflexively pulled back his body when a spear thrust down from the void.

“Haap!”

Seizing the opening, Gazef kicks back with a storm-like roar.

‘He knew?’

The response is too smooth—!

BOOM!

Even a giant magical beast running at full speed wouldn’t deliver such a heavy, solid, destructive physical impact.

If the response had been even slightly delayed, not just the arm but the entire torso would have burst.

‘I can’t imitate that.’

It’s the fruit of racial characteristics and arduous training.

For a human to pursue that, it would be better to seek something else.

“Hm!”

Nostalgic and familiar… a beating?

There was a time when he tried to imitate that and got beaten up a lot.

‘Useless.’

His naive, clumsy human self, steeped in peace back then.

Whenever he recalled it… he could hardly contain his rage.

“He’s still fine after that? He’s insane.”

Thud!

A Valkyrie holding a silver spear descends gracefully from the sky.

“It seems you need assistance.”

“…That’s appreciated, but where did such a splendid lady come from? Ah, no offense meant. I’m grateful, truly grateful!”

Gazef was genuinely impressed.

A woman in full silver armor.

Even with wings, the fighting spirit and aura emanating from her… was a sharp energy unlike anything seen in this world.

If one were entranced by her beauty, their heart would be pierced and their head would fly.

“Toth (Θωθ), does this bastard want to die? Such unnecessary actions.”

“How rude.”

With snow-white skin and brilliant golden-silver hair.

The dignified woman, possessing years of experience and iron-clad composure, pointed her spear and rebuked the War God’s rudeness.

“Blasphemer who imitates divinity. Shall we test how far your path will go?”

“You’re the blasphemer, you bitch.”

A blade in his right hand.

A spear in his left hand.

Behind him, black chains that seemed burned by fire overflow with flames.

Also.

From the ground beneath his feet, a cold chill seeped out.

“Heh! That’s right! Just try to get caught. I’ll make you crawl on the ground, neither dead nor alive, struggling desperately.”

The War God ground his teeth with a crunch.