Ch.30Sword Saint – 2

Rachel lay helplessly on the ground, staring blankly at the sky.

The sky, with its round blood-red moon, was intensely crimson. The sky itself was as red as blood, reflecting the moon’s scarlet light. The idle thought crossed her mind: So this is what the sky of the demon realm looks like.

“What led you here? Was it arrogance? Overconfidence? Honor? Duty?”

A monotone murmur without the slightest inflection reached Rachel’s ears.

With great effort, she turned her head. The surrounding terrain, once so rugged that the horizon wasn’t visible, now revealed the meeting point of sky and earth clearly. In every direction stretched countless pits and valleys of unfathomable depth.

All of it was the aftermath of the battle between Rachel and the Demon King.

“Weak human.”

“Ugh…!”

The Demon King firmly stepped on Rachel’s right arm. Rachel gritted her teeth, suppressing a scream. But the Demon King didn’t stop at merely stepping—he applied pressure, pressing down firmly.

—Crack.

“Aaaaargh!”

With the sound of breaking bone, her fingers were completely crushed. A scream finally erupted from Rachel’s mouth.

The sensation of nails shattering, skin tearing, blood and flesh spilling through the torn skin, and bones crumbling to pieces was, to put it mildly, not exactly pleasant.

“Meaningless.”

“Guhk…!”

Next, the bones in her palm were crushed under his foot.

“Weak.”

“Aaaah!”

Her wrist bones shattered. The crushed flesh spread out from beneath the Demon King’s shoe.

“Utterly worthless creature.”

“Gyaaaaargh!”

The Demon King was methodically stomping on Rachel’s already shattered right arm, ensuring nothing of its original form remained. Her right arm was being meticulously crushed, starting from the fingertips.

The pain was unbearable. Rachel screamed continuously. When about half of her upper arm had been crushed, she finally managed to gather her wits enough to speak.

“If… if you’re going to kill me, just do it…!”

“Do you not know your place?”

“Guhk, aaaagh…!”

The Demon King paid no heed to Rachel’s plea for death. His leather boots continued to thoroughly destroy her right arm, and only after flattening it all the way to the shoulder joint did he finally remove his foot.

Her entire right arm was a mess. The bones were so thoroughly crushed they no longer resembled bones at all, and her skin and flesh were flattened against the ground.

Rachel turned her head away. She couldn’t bear to look at the gruesome sight any longer. Moans filled with fear and pain continuously escaped from between her lips.

“Hnngh… hnngh…”

“You who couldn’t even graze my robe’s hem, did you truly believe your life was worth my personal attention to end? Your life is not even worth the effort of a single swing of my arm.”

His words were true. While Rachel’s entire body was covered in burns and wounds, not to mention her right arm that had been methodically crushed, the Demon King’s white coat didn’t have even the slightest smudge of soot on it.

The Demon King was overwhelmingly powerful. So much so that Rachel wanted to go back and slap her past self who had believed she could win against anyone after transcending her limits.

This being was completely outside the realm of human classification, beyond what human power could possibly measure. It was something that existed beyond that threshold. Realizing this, Rachel let out a hollow laugh.

How could the war with the demon race have lasted for centuries? Why hadn’t humanity been extinct already?

If this being had taken the field directly, humanity would have been annihilated long ago, without a single human remaining.

“I see fear in your eyes. Are you wondering why you humans still exist?”

Whether he had some mind-reading ability or not, the Demon King had precisely struck at Rachel’s thoughts.

“The reason is that you humans are too insignificant compared to my power.”

“…”

“I do not desire a world of mere ruins. Nor do I desire a world with only demons. I wish to enslave all humans for generations to come, to breed them so that humans will eternally be the livestock of demonkind.”

It was a calmly stated ambition, but it also demonstrated his absolute confidence.

The Demon King’s voice resonated with irresistible power, and from the demon army stretching endlessly beyond the horizon came roars of approval that bordered on monstrous howls.

Rachel suddenly felt the urge to cover her ears. Compared to that endless wave of demonic forces, the human army seemed far too weak.

“However, there is no future for the weak among us. All demons will be tested, and only those who prove their valor and strength will be entitled to feast on human blood, flesh, and bone.”

Again, cheers erupted. The entire demon army, except for the undead, was making a deafening noise as if to demonstrate their own power.

They had every reason to cheer. It was a declaration perfectly suited to demons, for whom power and might were everything.

“That is why I send them in my stead. So that our weak ones may fall to your spears and swords and be culled, and so that your world is not needlessly shattered and destroyed by my power.”

“…”

“That is also why I spare your life.”

“…”

“You shall live to inspire hope in humans. Let them worship you as a false idol, praise and exalt you, and give them courage to believe they can win against us. The longer you live, the more brilliantly that false hope will shine.”

Rachel’s face turned pale as she realized the Demon King’s intention. Despite his open declaration to let the Sword Saint live to boost human morale, the demon army continued to beat their chests in excitement.

Higher human morale meant fiercer battles. That was exactly what they wanted.

“Second Legion Commander.”

“Yes… my Demon King…”

An Elder Lich, riding a carriage drawn by four bone dragons, appeared before the Demon King immediately upon being summoned. The withered corpse knelt and bowed its head.

“Kill one-tenth of your legion here. One million undead will soon become this one’s achievement.”

“I shall obey…”

Without the slightest question at the order to kill one-tenth of his own legion, the Elder Lich obeyed. At his gesture, the undead legion began tearing each other apart, killing those who had been their comrades just moments before.

Watching mountains of corpses being formed, Rachel trembled, consumed by terror and helplessness. The Demon King looked down at her expressionlessly.

“Are you trembling?”

“…”

“Or are you afraid?”

“…”

“This should be a joyous day for you, so smile. Is it not the day when a legend is born—one who single-handedly faced a million undead and returned them all to dust?”

“…”

“From now on, all humans will cling to you. Soldiers at the front lines will chant your name like a spell, and every child will fall asleep listening to your legends, dreaming of becoming you. Thousands of troops will cheer at your mere appearance, and tens of thousands of humans will be certain of victory. If this is not a joyous day, then what is?”

“…What.”

Rachel, who had been trembling and merely listening to the Demon King’s words, painfully opened her mouth. There was the smell of blood from her nose and the metallic taste of blood in her mouth.

“What exactly are you?”

“You mean me?”

The Demon King tried to form words by moving his lips a few times, but as if finding it impossible, he frowned once before instantly returning to his expressionless face.

“My name is Elishiere.”

His pink eyes gleamed with an ominous light.

“The Demon King.”

‘…He really is ridiculously strong.’

I took a moment to catch my breath, using Eternity as support. Just watching him fight, it was hard to believe this was someone with trauma related to swords.

Among the three of us, I was the only one still standing. Brunhilde was sprawled out after taking a hit to the forehead with a teaspoon, and Aria had collapsed on the ground, panting from exhaustion.

As for me, I was just a bit short of breath.

Since there were people watching, I hadn’t fought with my full strength from the beginning. I had only exerted myself to a level befitting the top student of Bellium Academy.

“How could you have gotten even weaker than before, Leona? Have you just been playing around with your new friends?”

The Sword Saint stood perfectly still, casually twirling a teaspoon. He hadn’t moved even 1cm from his original position since the start of the match.

I could understand why people didn’t question him despite having sealed his right arm and real sword for over ten years.

After all, who would doubt someone who could deflect the combined attacks of Bellium Academy’s three most promising first-year students with just a teaspoon the size of his pinky finger? Doubting that would make you the crazy one.

‘Just how strong is the Demon King?’

And my questions about the Demon King deepened further.

It meant that the Demon King had so overwhelmingly crushed this master swordsman at his prime, wielding a real sword at full power, that it left him traumatized.

‘…And Brunhilde will eventually become even stronger than the Sword Saint.’

Since even that Demon King eventually fell to the Hero’s hand. I glanced at Brunhilde. She had just gotten up and was rubbing her forehead where she had been hit.

I saw the Sword Saint smiling and kissing the reddened spot. On the surface it seemed like a perfectly normal situation, but having been told this was “for now” a yuri romance novel, it felt somewhat strange.

“I understand why Jake said he had nothing more to teach you. Especially you—Aria, was it?”

“Hah… hah… yes…”

“That technique you used at the end, that was my technique, wasn’t it?”

“…Yes.”

Aria shrank back, apparently expecting the Sword Saint to be angry, but it was the opposite. The Sword Saint patted Aria’s head approvingly.

“That’s amazing. How did you even think to imitate a technique you’d only seen once, however crudely? Most people wouldn’t even know what hit them the first time they see it. Truly remarkable.”

“Y-you’re too kind.”

“Too kind? Not at all. All three of you are students worth teaching. Our Leona, where did you find such excellent friends? Is it because you’re the Hero?”

After praising the three of us enthusiastically for a while, the Sword Saint suddenly looked at Priscilla, who was sitting nearby. Priscilla flinched.

“Your name was… Priscilla, correct?”

“…Yes.”

“I understand your concern for your boyfriend, but please don’t glare at me so murderously every time I deflect an attack. This will be a common sight from now on, and if you react like that every time, your mental health won’t hold up.”

“…I’m sorry.”

Priscilla bowed her head deeply. Ever since hearing that the Sword Saint would be invited as a special instructor, Priscilla had been visibly restless.

It was the opposite of how she used to be. Before, she had been desperate not to disrupt the original plot, but recently, she seemed to dislike deviating from what she knew.

I wasn’t sure what change of heart she’d experienced, but something had clearly shifted.

“And you, the boyfriend over there?”

“…”

The Sword Saint approached me with a playful smile. However, as the distance between us closed, his smile gradually faded.

Standing right in front of me, the Sword Saint whispered with a somewhat anxious expression.

“That technique you used… ugh.”

But before he could finish, the Sword Saint winced and slightly bent over. His right arm, hidden discreetly within his wide sleeve, was being massaged.

It was the phantom pain that supposedly appeared whenever his trauma was triggered.