Chapter 127 - Demonic Realm (3)

“... I see.”

The Heaven-Slaying Star nodded.

“I understand the logic behind your actions. You judged it impossible to defeat me on your own and brought in an outside force. I had determined that a beginner who appears to have only just reached the fiftieth floor could not mobilize outside forces...”

Even as he spoke, countless meteors were cutting through the ashen sky.

WHOOSH!

Flames fired from far, far away. Thousands of attacks formed from immense magical power.

“That was my error.”

The meteor shower came hurtling toward us faster and faster. Yet the Heaven-Slaying Star remained indifferent. With an impassive gaze, he began scribbling something in his journal with his fountain pen.

“In future, I will account for the intervention of powerful outside forces even when dealing with beginners.”

“Fuck! Run!”

“Are those spider bastards all high?!”

The nearby hunters reacted faster than the Heaven-Slaying Star.

POP! POP!

People tore Instant Teleportation scrolls all around us. Apparently, they were essential items for hunters living on the fiftieth floor. The bald bartender did the same, but screamed at us just before fleeing.

“Hey! Heaven-Slaying Star! I'm putting the remodeling bill on your tab again, so don't forget to write it down! You're paying for the scroll, too!”

“Understood.”

CLICK.

“The entry is complete.”

The Heaven-Slaying Star closed his journal.

“In accordance with my promise, I will now protect the stranger with all my strength.”

At last, the meteor shower reached us.

BOOM! BOOM!

Like an indiscriminate bombardment, the meteors rained down and destroyed the street. Just as the storm of destruction was about to engulf the open-air bar, a hand firmly gripped my wrist.

“Maximize sight and hearing. In payment, I discard [one hour] of my memories,” the Heaven-Slaying Star murmured.

Then an astonishing feat unfolded.

With only slight shifts of his feet, he evaded the barrage of meteors thick enough to blot out the sky. One step. Two steps. Each time he pulled me along with him, meteors skimmed past us and struck the ground mere inches away.

“Huh?!”

An angry voice rang out overhead.

“Hey, you constellation-fucking bastard! Why are you getting involved? Get lost! We've got a grudge against the guy with you! Unless you want to make an enemy of the Great Staff, disappear quietly!”

“First, I request a resolution through dialogue.”

The Heaven-Slaying Star swept his right hand through the air. The dust cloud raised by the meteor storm cleared in an instant. Both he and I were completely unharmed.

“Dialogue, my fucking ass! Get lost, you lunatic!”

“I must protect this stranger no matter what happens. Protection means ensuring that both his body and his mind remain intact. There is no room for compromise on this point.”

He took out his journal again with his left hand and read from it.

“The magic towers are an exceedingly selfish group. Because they are selfish, negotiations based on their gains and losses are possible. I am capable of inflicting severe losses upon you. Negotiate.”

“He's our mortal enemy! Our mortal! Fucking! Enemy!”

“All problems can be resolved through rational dialogue.”

“Hey! Hey! Anyone who knows how much memory the Heaven-Slaying Star currently has, report!”

Tens of thousands of wizards hovered overhead on broomsticks. One of them answered.

“Ruby of the permanent surveillance squad reporting! Chief! The Heaven-Slaying Star currently has seven days of memories remaining!”

“Fuck. Of all times, he's got a full week?”

The sound of grinding teeth carried through the air.

“Doesn't matter! Wipe out that constellation-fucker, too! Effective immediately, the magic towers are under full mobilization! Everyone belonging to the magic towers, from the First Finger to the Fifth Finger, hunt down the Sword Emperor and the Heaven-Slaying Star! I'll say it again, you bastards! This is a full mobilization!”

“... Negotiations have failed,” the Heaven-Slaying Star murmured.

The pages of the journal in his left hand fluttered rapidly.

“Search: magic towers. Additional search: combat. Detailed search: countermeasures.”

He glanced over the journal, then nodded. Taking out a rubber band—a cheap yellow rubber band you could buy in the outside world—he tied back his long silver hair.

“...”

Standing right beside him, I watched as he slowly tied back his hair. In terms of actual time, it probably took only two seconds. But I knew that this gesture was one of the few rites, the few rituals, he had left.

“I am now entering combat.”

“Kill them!”

And tens of thousands of wizards charged down from the sky.

“Standard-bearers, surround them!”

Not every enemy charged.

“Singers, form a chorus in the rear!”

“Yes!”

The wizards' formation spread across the ashen sky. It resembled an enormous ring. Hundreds of wizards formed five rings and began singing together.

A six-layered melody resounded.

“Oh,” my attendant spirit said. “Haven't seen that in a while. That's an Imitation Star Chant.”

'An Imitation Star Chant?'

“See those five spires over there? They've got one constellation sealed beneath each tower. Well, they call it sealing, but really it's imprisonment. Anyway, they manifest the sealed constellations' powers through song and borrow them. As for the effects...”

[Warning. You have been designated as the target of an area-of-effect ability.]

[Warning. The power of the aura you emit is halved!]

[Warning. The power of the magic you cast is halved!]

[Warning. The power of the mental defenses you project is halved!]

[Warning. All penalties applied to you are doubled.]

My attendant spirit nodded.

“Yeah. The effects are a bit fucked up.”

'Are you kidding me?'

“They call that a spiderweb. That's why those guys are nicknamed spiders.”

They certainly lived up to their reputation as a group of monsters that had ruled the Tower's fiftieth floor for over a thousand years. Our strength had been drastically reduced before the fight even began. And my attendant spirit, who had torn such a web to shreds 150 years ago... must have been a beast beyond even those monsters.

“... Single strike. Enhancement.”

And a man said to have fought that beast stood right before my eyes.

“In payment, I discard my memory of the beauty of sunsets.”

A sword had appeared in the Heaven-Slaying Star's right hand.

One step.

He swung his sword lightly, as though dancing.

The air split.

It was closer to a typhoon than a sword strike. Blue aura cleaved the ashen sky in two. One of the six rings overhead was swept up in the typhoon.

“R-regroup! Regroup!”

“Retreat!”

Hundreds of wizards fell screaming. Some lost control of their broomsticks and plummeted straight to the ground. The pointed hats they lost fluttered like black petals.

[The amplified penalty effects have returned to normal.]

But the Heaven-Slaying Star did not stop.

A flat voice flowed from his lips.

“Enhance single strike. In payment, I discard my memory of the sound of rain falling from the sky.”

The sky was torn apart again.

[Your halved aura power has been restored!]

“That madman! That lunatic! That constellation-fucker!”

“Thumb Ring destroyed! Index Finger Ring destroyed! We can't maintain formation!”

“C-chief! Fighting the Heaven-Slaying Star with a full week's memories really is reckless!”

“That fucking constellation-fucker! Enough! Shut up and charge! Charge!”

The wizards fired balls of flame. Masses of ice spewed forth. Roots and weeds grew instantly from the ground where we stood, seizing our ankles. The air seethed. A dense jungle rose. Fog spread and obscured our vision. More spells, more miracles than I could even begin to name assailed the two of us.

And then.

“Enhance single strike.”

The Heaven-Slaying Star simply held his journal in one hand and his sword in the other.

“In payment, I discard my memory of children's smiles.”

Every spell and miracle was torn apart.

[Your halved magic power has been restored!]

[Your halved mental defense power has been restored!]

[Area-of-effect target designation has been removed.]

The fireballs were destroyed. The masses of ice split apart. The roots were severed, and the weeds rotted. A blue wind swirled through the air, and the jungle vanished. In the world revealed after the fog cleared, the wizards were groaning.

“Middle Finger Ring destroyed! Ring Finger Ring destroyed! Little Finger Ring destroyed!”

“All the Star Chants have been shattered, Chief!”

“He's hitting every ring right at its weak point!”

“Fuck...! What bastard sold off all our secrets...!”

I stared blankly at the great battle unfolding right before me.

The wizards kept attacking relentlessly. But it was useless. The Heaven-Slaying Star fought on, discarding little memories: the drink he had just had, the street he had walked down yesterday.

A single hunter was taking on tens of thousands of wizards.

“What do you think? The exact opposite of how you fight, isn't it?”

My attendant spirit grinned.

“What the Heaven-Slaying Star uses is a kind of demonic art, too. Zombie, your Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven is based on memories. Memories of hunger, memories of loneliness... The Heaven-Slaying Star is the opposite. He [discards memories].”

A demonic art that was the exact opposite of mine.

“Watch closely. You'll be fighting at this level yourself someday.”

The Heaven-Slaying Star's way of fighting was calm, yet agonizing.

“I discard my memory of walking beneath a gentle sky.”

One by one, he discarded the memories he held. His tone was plain, the path of his sword simple. In that sense, his fighting was calm.

“I discard the timbre of the screams humans bark when they are in pain.”

But none of the memories he discarded was insignificant. The longer the battle continued, the more his memories were exposed, like boxes opening one after another. They were Pandora's boxes. Boxes whose contents evaporated once opened.

“The Heaven-Slaying Star lives with a week's worth of memories at most, and a day's worth at least,” my attendant spirit said.

“He almost never holds on to more than a week. Whenever he accumulates a week's memories, he goes off to hunt a constellation. A week of memories is enough to hunt one.”

“...”

“Did he tell you he has amnesia? Strictly speaking, that's wrong. He sacrifices his memories to do what he needs to do.”

That was...

To be even more precise, he was burning away his own life.

[Sparkle cannot bear to watch her former master fight.]

My holy sword trembled.

[Sparkle recalls the past. Her former master did not go this far when fighting before. She does not know when or why he became like this.]

By now, the magic towers' army of wizards was utterly exhausted.

All their circular rings had long since been destroyed.

At first, they had maintained strict formations and repeatedly struck at the Heaven-Slaying Star before withdrawing... but perhaps even that had reached its limit. Their ranks collapsed. The wizards were only joining the attack sporadically now.

“C-chief. See? We can't beat the Heaven-Slaying Star when he's juiced up on a full week...”

“We've openly admitted he's a bullshit-overpowered character...”

“If we dump any more mana into this, our losses will be enormous!”

“The surveillance squad's been sending nonstop reports. Chief, the constellations have noticed something wrong and are watching closely. They're likely to invade while we're weakened.”

“Gah!”

The wizard who appeared to be their leader ground her teeth. She took off her pointed hat and crumpled it in her left hand. Her eyes filled with tremendous rage, she glared at me.

“Sword Emperor... Sword Emperor, Sword Emperor, Sword Emperor!”

“Good grief. My popularity doesn't fade even after death.”

My attendant spirit shrugged.

“See, Zombie? This is the problem with being too amazing.”

“I understand perfectly well that you've allied yourself with the Heaven-Slaying Star! Just you wait! Our magic towers will stop at nothing to hunt you down! This time it's merely a contest of strength, but next time, I'll make sure—”

The wizards looked exasperated.

“Wow... Chief, that's the classic line of a loser running away...”

“Quiet. Don't provoke the chief right now. You'll get turned into a frog and eaten.”

“I'll fucking destroy you!”

As the wizards dispersed in unison and turned to leave, the Heaven-Slaying Star spoke.

“Wait, Master of the Magic Towers.”

“What!”

“I still have twenty-three hours of memories remaining. If I spend twenty-two of those hours enhancing a single strike, I can destroy one of your spires.”

“... Are you threatening us?”

“Yes.”

He affirmed it without the slightest hesitation.

“According to my records, you are extremely concerned with saving face. Failing to eliminate me after declaring full mobilization is a fairly painful loss. But it does not compare to losing a spire. Consider my threat.”

“...”

The tower master's face twisted like a goblin's.

“For the next week, all attacks and schemes against this man and me are strictly forbidden. Attacks and schemes encompass all actions and thoughts that would harm us. Both direct and indirect methods are prohibited. Should subjective judgment be required, we shall be designated as the ones to exercise it. Your own subjective judgment will not be permitted.”

“These two fucking swordsmen...”

“I will threaten you once more. Accept a one-week ceasefire agreement.”

The Heaven-Slaying Star gripped his sword.

“If you refuse, I will bring it down.”

Silence settled over the devastated wasteland.

“You... Consider your name added to the magic towers' kill list.”

“Do you agree to the ceasefire?”

With a click of her tongue, a sheet of paper appeared before him. It was a contract gleaming gold. He read it with an impassive gaze, then took out his fountain pen and signed.

“A satisfactory negotiation. Now withdraw.”

“When we kill the Sword Emperor, we'll bury you with him, Heaven-Slaying Star.”

“I will make a clear record of your hostility.”

“Ptooey!”

The wizards turned their broomsticks. Like a swarm of autumn locusts, they slowly receded, still covering the sky.

Our surroundings grew quiet.

There was no one nearby except the Heaven-Slaying Star and me.

He turned to face me.

“I have fulfilled my promise to you, stranger.”

“...”

“But from my observations of you, I have fallen into a trap. I won the battle, but as a result, a week's memories have been reduced to a day's worth. My combat strength has been greatly diminished. That weakening must be what you intended.”

He described his situation dispassionately.

As though he were talking about someone else.

“Gongja.”

My attendant spirit's voice grew lower.

“Don't fall for it. He's deliberately talking to you to buy as much time as possible. Don't think of him as human. He's practically a weapon that operates strictly according to what he's entered into himself.”

'Yes.'

I gripped my holy sword.

'I know.'

Then I glared at the Heaven-Slaying Star.

“That's right. I am going to defeat you.”

“Whereas, according to my promise, I cannot attack you. I can only evade or defend against your attacks. ... A dangerous situation. If, as the tower master said, you are the Sword Emperor himself or his heir, it is particularly dangerous.”

“My name is Death King. I am the Young Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult, and the wife of House Ivansia.”

The Heaven-Slaying Star opened his journal and wrote. He was writing down my name. As his fountain pen moved, he asked me a question.

“What is the Demonic Cult?”

“A blade that answers every scream.”

“What is the Young Cult Leader?”

“The sword that is swung first.”

“What is the Death King?”

I drew up my red aura.

“The name of the person who will reap you.”

This time, I asked the question.

“Heaven-Slaying Star. Do you hold on to any memories of hunger?”

“They are written in my journal. But if we limit that to memories I can directly recall, no. I have no memories of hunger.”

I nodded.

“That will be your fatal mistake.”

And I lunged.