Ch.799It’s Common Knowledge That the Heavenly Demon Is Third-Rate, Isn’t It?

A human killed a dragon.

A feat no one dared imagine.

When Carolus defeated the serpent dragon Dabran, he drew the attention of the entire world, and humanity—scattered across the globe in hopeless resistance—rejoiced at the emergence of their long-awaited savior.

The Order of Libra Knights who served the goddess Astraea.

The Order of Solar Priests who served Saulite.

The Lunar Silver Hunters who served Menes.

The Harvesters of the Church of Ceres and the Crusaders of the Church of Volberg.

Knights who had fought believing in the human gods passed down through oral tradition began to unite and resist under the banner of Carolus, the “Dragon Slayer.”

After decades of advancing while planting victory flags atop countless corpses, the other races—who had been depleting their strength in racial wars—were forced to retreat to the corners of the continent, succumbing to the power of humans whom they had considered mere prey.

—-

“……”

That was as far as Demian could see in the memories when he drew the holy sword.

Was he not permitted to see more? Or perhaps there was no need to see what followed? Demian couldn’t tell.

The only thing Demian knew for certain was that the goddess’s voice, which had warned Carolus of his fate, was now giving him the same warning.

A life far from peaceful. The burden of carrying the destiny of all humans. Accepting this was the qualification required to be recognized as the master of the holy sword.

Could he bear that burden?

A warning similar to Haschal’s advice, yet heavier. No, perhaps closer to a prophecy than a warning. The tone was filled with certainty, as if having already witnessed the future that would unfold.

‘…Can I bear it?’

Demian closed his eyes tightly, contemplating for a long time in silence as he recalled Carolus’s life, which felt as vivid as if he had experienced it himself.

And then.

“Yes.”

Demian nodded.

“Becoming the master of this sword and taking responsibility for everyone’s fate… means that a disaster threatening everyone’s destiny is approaching, just like eight hundred years ago. Whether I draw the sword or not, that won’t change.”

【 ….. 】

No answer came. A silent affirmation.

“Then, I…”

Unlike Carolus, who developed a sense of duty as his followers and those he protected grew in number, Demian did not possess a sense of mission to protect everyone.

But Demian thought about it.

He imagined those who appeared in his mind meeting the same end as the countless people Carolus had lost. Because he hadn’t drawn the sword, because he lacked the power.

Why was it that merely imagining such scenes made his stomach churn and his fingertips grow cold?

Demian knew this sensation was disgust.

Therefore.

“…I will obtain power. The power to cut through the coming disaster, the power to refuse a repetition of what happened eight hundred years ago.”

Demian accepted without resistance whatever was being transmitted from the holy sword.

If he could erase the unpleasant possibilities that appeared in his mind, he could endure a life without peace or the responsibility of carrying the entire human race.

…Of course, at this point, he couldn’t even imagine that he would wake up with his arm and spine shattered.

======[ Haschal ]======

Carrying me in what’s commonly called a “princess carry,” Demian immediately soared upward, narrowly avoiding the falling boulders as we escaped from the collapsing ravine.

It was an extreme aerial acrobatics where one wrong move could have sent us falling between cascading rocks. To avoid such a disaster, I had no choice but to extend my arms and wrap them around Demian’s neck.

“Kuk…!”

Since Demian would turn blue and make dying groans whenever I applied even slight pressure, I had to hold on with just my fingertips lightly resting on his neck.

—-

After safely escaping the ravine that was being filled with falling rocks and avalanches, we began heading south toward the base of the mountain range.

We weren’t moving particularly fast.

If we had used Karma flames and spread wings to fly, we could have reached the base of the mountains that very day, but neither Demian nor I had the strength left for that, so we had to walk down on foot.

Therefore, that night, like any other night, we had no choice but to create a cave to shelter from the cold and set up camp.

Instead of using the rune of fire, I used the rune of collapse that was engraved on my regenerated left arm, and instantly created a cave large enough to accommodate more than a dozen people.

There, Demian told me about what he had seen when he drew the holy sword.

“So you’re saying you saw the memories of Carlos the Great?”

“Rather than seeing, it was more like experiencing… It felt as if I had become that person.”

I didn’t know the holy sword had such a function. Not that it’s particularly useful.

Carolus’s past that wasn’t recorded even in the history books of the Empire and the Church.

It was content that might have spurred Lacy to accelerate her plan for exterminating other races had she heard it, but for me, it was information of little nutritional value.

If it had shown me something from thousands of years ago or shown the future, it might have been helpful, but what use was it to me to learn that the elves of Alvheim, whom I had considered burning trash, were actually more like food waste?

I was planning to destroy them anyway.

When I first heard Perneisia’s proposal to enslave all elves, or Lacy’s ambition to exterminate other races and preserve only a small number of children in containment areas, I thought they were insane…

But now, I found myself somewhat agreeing with their opinions.

In the original work, at least they served as meat shields against the monster armies. The current elves were of no help to this world; rather, they were like tumors causing discord throughout the world.

They say the only good elf is a beheaded one, and indeed, that saying proved true.

They even tried to kill me outright now. By sending six guardians.

That was essentially a declaration of war against the Empire.

Since they remember the world from eight hundred years ago… they probably think it’s time to restore the “glory of Alvheim” now that they see the Empire faltering.

Well, with six guardians gone in a single day, they probably won’t make any rash moves for a while.

—-

After a good night’s rest, some of my depleted energy returned. Both the power of heroic deeds and the power of murder Karma.

Which meant…

[ Explain…! ]

Like a dog flying toward Mars, the self-proclaimed Heavenly Demon lady, who had gone far away with a death cry so funny I could barely contain my laughter, had finally awakened.

[ Why is there a strong peach scent on that man’s body? Why do I smell his scent on my clothes? Surely, surely not…! ]

I wasn’t particularly happy about it. She was spouting nonsense right after waking up.

It was obvious what kind of misunderstanding she was having.

[ Even if it was an irresistible urge, how dare you without my permission…! ]

What is she talking about? You’re the only one who had an irresistible urge.

‘What permission? Nothing happened. The smell on your clothes is from when we had to stick together to escape the collapsing ravine.’

[ Nothing happened…? That can’t be, no one could resist such stimulation…. ]

‘It wasn’t a big deal. A person wouldn’t lose their mind over that level of stimulation. Unless they’re an animal in heat.’

[ “Not a big deal,” you say…? ]

Hersella’s voice trembled as if an earthquake had occurred.

‘Ah, come to think of it, our “Heung” Heavenly Demon passed out from just that, didn’t she?’

I recalled her death cry with a smirk. Heung, seriously. It’s still hilarious thinking about it.

[ H-Heung Heavenly Demon?! What did you just call me?! ]

Naturally, Hersella was furious. I couldn’t see her expression, but she was probably blushing furiously. Her angry voice was completely devoid of killing intent, soaked only in shame, embarrassment, and humiliation.

‘They say Heavenly Demons are weak to sensuality, but even so… I didn’t expect you to faint from such a mild aphrodisiac. What would you have done without me?’

[ Heavenly Demons are weak to sensuality? Who dares to utter such blasphemy…! ]

Um… people from the Republic of Korea?

I’ve never read them myself, but they say that in martial arts novels, a Heavenly Demon must be female, have pink, gold, or black hair, be pink and third-rate down below.

And they must, at least once, fall into danger from aphrodisiacs or mountain scorpion poison.

There was also something about flutes and lutes, but I don’t understand what that metaphor means.

…Come to think of it, doesn’t this match Hersella’s characteristics?

Black hair. Female. Pink. Third-rate below. Weak to aphrodisiacs.

That’s exactly Hersella.

I see. She wasn’t a self-proclaimed Heavenly Demon but a true Heavenly Demon.

Nodding at this sudden realization, I offered a word of encouragement to the fuming Hersella.

‘I acknowledge it. You are a true Heavenly Demon.’

[ What does that even mean?! I don’t appreciate it at all! Listen, a Heavenly Demon is…! ]

Apparently not pleased despite my acknowledgment, Hersella exploded in anger and launched into a long-winded speech about how Heavenly Demons are invincible, divine, perfect superhumans, and so on.

‘Ugh…! Huh, heung…!’

[ Kut…! ]

Until I, tired of listening, mimicked her moaning sounds and forcibly shut her up.