Ch.953Looks Like You Didn’t Know About This.

“Would my outburst of irritation and anger have any effect?

In this miserable battle where I feel like I’m getting soaked in the rain, where injuries trigger irritation rather than a sense of danger—could I bring about any change?

“Keep shooting!”

…Not a chance.

What fool in the world would listen to an enemy’s plea? If I were in their position, I wouldn’t just ignore such demands—I’d sneer and mock them.

“That monster isn’t immortal. Look, it’s bleeding!”

The six remaining Umbrella Guardians and Jeirpalos thoroughly ignored my roar as they continued their tedious encirclement attack.

They bound my feet with high-level spirits that kept regenerating and reappearing no matter how many times I destroyed them, while they maintained their distance and endlessly fired arrows.

An annoying and frustrating strategy.

“Done shooting? Then let me blow your heads off…!”

I tried charging through the endless barrage of spirit arrows to target an Umbrella Guardian’s head, but—

“Graaaargh!”

“Not a chance!”

Each time, the high-level spirits and Jeirpalos would swoop in to interfere, forcing me to halt.

“…Seriously, you can’t even handle this much?”

“That’s enough!”

They could only bind my feet for a moment, but by the time I shook off their interference, my targeted Umbrella Guardian had already escaped somewhere far away.

And then, as I clicked my tongue in frustration, dozens more spirit arrows would fly at me again.

From the chandelier on the ceiling, from between the cracks in the collapsed wall, from the spire of the adjacent building, from beyond the hole in the ceiling where the full moon shone brightly.

Spirit arrows rained down from everywhere, devastating me and everything around me.

Walls and windows shattered like puzzle pieces, and the luxurious furniture that had been placed to maintain the palace’s dignity was smashed to pieces and thrown into corners.

The collapsing ceiling shook the ground and spewed dust, while the marble floor cracked from the impact, scattering fragments.

…Damn, this is awful. Do they know how much all this costs? These shameless invaders are absolute artists at property destruction.

As the owner of this place, I’m even restraining myself from using rune flames for fear the damage might spread uncontrollably.

Seriously, just wait until I capture you alive. I’ll make you envy your dead comrades, even to the point of jealousy.

…Anyway, this drawn-out war of attrition continued endlessly. Five minutes, ten minutes, and eventually thirty minutes.

It was both frustrating and strange.

—-

‘…Why the hell isn’t Demian coming?’

Thirty minutes after the fairies’ attack began. I caught my slightly labored breath and muttered to myself.

‘Shouldn’t he have arrived by now?’

Demian’s arrival was unusually delayed.

I had ordered him to evacuate the palace residents using the holy barrier of the sacred sword and necklace if the fairies attacked, and then join me immediately… so why wasn’t he here?

It made sense that Frider and the Rose Cross Knights hadn’t returned since I’d ordered them to join the evacuation procession and leave the palace, but Demian should have been here by now.

‘What’s taking that bastard Demian so long?’

[Well, perhaps he’s using this opportunity to get rid of you too? You’ve certainly built up quite a grudge with him.]

…I was a fool for asking.

Hersella’s answer was, as always, nothing but sarcasm that offered no help in resolving the situation.

‘That’s impossible. Grudge? Say something that makes sense.’

All the times I beat Demian were for his own good. It’s absurd to think he’d hold a grudge instead of being grateful. How could that make any sense?

Maybe someone with a broken personality like me or Hersella might, but Demian couldn’t possibly be that petty. Probably.

‘…There must be some other reason. I don’t know what, but something.’

The fact that he hadn’t returned when he should have meant something unavoidable must have happened.

Perhaps there was an accident during the evacuation that delayed it… or maybe he got caught up in some diversion. Something like that.

“Haah…”

I let out a faint sigh.

Nothing to be done, I suppose.

Thirty minutes had already passed, and I couldn’t keep waiting indefinitely for Demian when I had no idea when he might return.

‘I can’t wait any longer. Whatever the reason… thirty minutes should have been enough for everyone to leave the palace.’

In a situation where I could no longer expect reinforcements, I had to abandon my original plan of defeating the guardians together with Demian and somehow manage on my own without him.

[Hmm, you’re planning to handle this alone? Well, if you can…]

‘Alone? No. Why would I be alone? I have you.’

I shook my head with a smirk as I pulled out the dragon-scale arrow that had pierced my shoulder despite my protection.

A black dragon-scale arrow secretly mixed in with the spirit arrows.

I hadn’t expected them to shoot ordinary arrows at this point, so I took one hit.

Since it hit my shoulder rather than my head, it wasn’t particularly problematic.

[Hmm, how unusually thoughtful of you. Are you actually asking me to help more actively?]

‘Well, something like that.’

Though there’s quite a large gap between the “active help” you’re imagining and the help I want from you.

‘Do your best.’

[Hm? Do my best? What do you—]

Before Hersella could ask what I meant, I closed my eyes and sank my consciousness and self behind hers, as if throwing them away.

To pull the mere observer who only helps when she feels like it into the position of the main actor.

“…Wait, this is…”

And so, Hersella, suddenly finding herself back in her own body, opened her eyes while muttering in confusion.

As soon as she opened her eyes, she frowned deeply at the dozens of spirit arrows in her sight.

[You must have been missing the outside air too, right? Enjoy it properly, even if it’s just for a moment.]

Taking Hersella’s usual seat, I encouraged her to fight hard in my place.

[You’re better at this kind of fighting than I am, right? This is perfect for your heroic tales. So please, I’m asking you.]

Use the Field of Mortality, the Field of Mortality.

If the palace residents’ evacuation was complete, there was nothing to hold back for anymore.

Rune flames were difficult to use because the spreading fire couldn’t be controlled, but the Field of Mortality would cleanly destroy only the living beings within its area.

“Ha, you’re passing this on to me? How impudent.”

Hersella let out a laugh of disbelief.

She covered her face and giggled for a while, then sheathed Durandal, which had lost its golden radiance, and reached behind her back to draw the dragon-scale curved sword.

“…Well, I’m in the mood. I’ll let it slide just this once. I was getting bored anyway.”

See? I knew she’d like it. She wanted to fight with her own body all along, even while playing hard to get.

“But there won’t be a next time. Remember that.”

A murderous intent began to seep out.

The killing intent of Cheonsal-seong, which had been suppressed by my power, rejoiced at its true master’s return and then erupted like a howling wolf, filling the surroundings with a blood-red hue.

*BOOM!*

The spirit arrows that collided with the erupting Karma of Murder simultaneously exploded, scattering fragments across the sky.

“Now, greet me with fear. Perish while worshipping!”

Hersella looked up at the splendid yet ominous fireworks with a satisfied smile, then thrust her curved sword roughly into the ground and shouted:

“I am Abha Gisaka. I am your death from the heavens!”

Immediately after that.

A blood-red nebula enveloped the entire palace.

—-

Perhaps his experience hadn’t been wasted, as Jeirpalos’s response was surprisingly quick.

Just before Hersella’s Karma of Murder swept across everything like a tsunami.

“This energy…! I see, so this is the rumored…!”

Jeirpalos, who had detected the immense wave of power in advance, shouted with a smile etched on his increasingly pale face:

“High spirits of wind! Summon and overlap them! Unfold the distortion field!”

He commanded them to overlap the power of seven high wind spirits to create a spatial distortion field that would twist not just the air but space itself.

The next moment, seven translucent spirits appeared before Jeirpalos and roared.

An eyeball that creates storms.

A winged fish.

An eagle with three heads.

A snake with eight legs.

A whale swimming through empty space.

A weasel covered in blades.

And a woman whose lower body was formed of a whirlwind.

These high wind spirits of various forms all roared in unison, distorting the space between themselves and Hersella.

It was a technique similar to the spatial distortion field used by Ismenios, the yellow dragon who had been dismembered before he could even be preserved.

…Well, they certainly prepared a countermeasure against Sky Slash.

Rising fame means that information about me flows freely to my enemies as well.

The fact that my ultimate technique is a slash that reaches the heavens has long been common knowledge among those who should know.

Even the information that this slash contains the power of spatial cutting has been widely spread, thanks to Ismenios who loudly proclaimed it.

No matter how helpless one might be against an unknown technique, once it becomes widely known, countermeasures will inevitably be developed. Sky Slash was no exception.

The fact that it takes seven fairy guardians to block it means it still has absolute power against fewer opponents, but…

“His technique, ‘Sword of the Starry Sky’ is coming!”

So even Sky Slash, which I thought was an invincible attack against fewer than seven opponents, can be helplessly blocked. That’s because it’s already a known technique.

[How stupid.]

In other words, techniques that aren’t widely known don’t have to worry about being countered.

The fairy guardians judged from my aura alone that a technique with this level of energy must be Sky Slash… but this was a fatal misjudgment.

I had one more technique that emitted just as much energy as Sky Slash.

Due to the lack of suitable opportunities to use it, I had kept it so well-guarded that not even my close associates knew about it, let alone the wider world.

…Well, strictly speaking, it’s not my technique.