Chapter 41 - A Silver Tongue

Where was the high-ranking Demon?

A quiet stir ran through the room at his words. Devillian waved everyone into silence, then asked with a curl of the lips,

“A high-ranking Demon? I have no idea where you heard that.”

“Ah, am I getting ahead of myself? In that case... Hmm, I take it you were waiting for me because of His Highness the Grand Duke’s letter.”

As he reached into his coat, the knights on either side drew their swords.

SHING!

Despite the sharp sound, he did not so much as blink.

“It’s a letter from His Highness. You’re all rather on edge.”

He clicked his tongue at the swords pointed at his throat.

He was right. They had been waiting to verify the orders he claimed to have received from the Grand Duke.

“Yes. I heard you received orders from the Grand Duke—”

“Now, now. His Highness the Grand Duke. How dare you refer to him as merely the Grand Duke?”

Devillian frowned at the petty quibbling. The deputy commander stared over, his eyes seeming to ask whether Devillian intended to let that slide.

Devillian shook their head.

The banquet hall was filled with their own people. Chosen knights and Mages. Their preparations were flawless.

There was no need to get angry over the antics of a man who would soon be dead. Nor was there any reason to rush.

“Yes. His Highness the Grand Duke.”

“Hmm, that’s right. I’ll overlook it this once. Be more careful next time.”

Devillian bit their lip slightly. He had quite a talent for getting under people’s skin.

“Now, I shall convey His Highness’s orders! Bow your heads, everyone. Hmm, no bows? Well, I’m not that much of a stickler.”

He cleared his throat.

“‘You goddamn bastards! I told you to hold back the Demons, and instead you’ve thrown in your lot with them!’ Ah, ‘goddamn’ is underlined.”

He flexed his index and middle fingers.

The atmosphere turned icy in an instant.

‘He really is insane.’

Devillian was genuinely impressed.

“‘If you want forgiveness, stick out your tongues and die.’”

“You scoundrel!”

“Why are you angry at me? I’m merely reading it.”

As the deputy commander sprang to his feet, the man raised both hands in an exaggerated gesture. The deputy commander’s face twisted.

“Calm down. These are just the childish provocations of a dead man. This is a happy occasion, isn’t it?”

At Devillian’s words, the deputy commander sat back down, breathing heavily.

“There’s something I’d like to know.”

Devillian addressed the man, who twirled a finger as if inviting the question.

“I’ve heard you killed a demon-beast with magic.”

It was something Devillian had been curious about.

The other Mages drew sharp breaths. Killing a demon-beast with magic? What an act of insubordination.

“Hmm, which demon-beast do you mean?”

Devillian frowned at his answer. That implied he had killed more than one.

‘Tsk. Is he bluffing?’

“Demon-beasts aren’t particularly difficult. Demons are the problem. Did you know that Demon blood contains highly concentrated mana?”

That was common knowledge in the Black Magic Society. They did not revere Demons as blessed beings for nothing.

This was interesting. Devillian nodded, and the other Mages leaned forward slightly.

“Yes, with such highly concentrated mana flowing through their blood, most magic won’t work on them. Mana flows from areas of low concentration to high concentration, after all.”

The Mages nodded in unison. There was a strange power in his voice that commanded attention.

“So, to use magic against a Demon, you must compress your mana as much as possible. Demons truly are a Mage’s natural enemy.”

“Are you saying you really killed a Demon?”

One of the Mages asked incredulously. The man nodded.

“Concentration is the key. You need to compress your mana.”

“Compress mana?”

“Surely you know what mana compression is?”

His question was met with a brief silence.

“Oh, good heavens.”

Overt contempt crossed his face. Devillian answered with narrowed eyes.

“Why would we compress mana? We have mana-stone staffs.”

All the Mages nodded at Devillian’s words. The man let out a deep sigh and shook his head.

“Well, I suppose that explains why you’re in the North. I understand.”

The Mages’ faces twisted at his sneer.

Unable to take any more, Devillian sprang to their feet.

“I’ve been indulging you, and now you’ve forgotten your place!”

Devillian pointed their staff at him. The other Mages grasped their staffs, and the knights drew their swords. The atmosphere grew tense in an instant.

The man showed no sign of being intimidated. Instead, he clicked his tongue even louder.

“Calling yourselves Mages when you don’t even know how to compress mana—that’s what I call forgetting your place.”

He pointed at the Mages as he scolded them.

“Mana compression is only necessary for the unchosen, like you.”

A Mage standing near him rolled up a sleeve. Clearly inscribed on the forearm was proof of being chosen: the magic circle left behind by the first human Mage.

The man grabbed the Mage’s forearm, seemingly unconcerned by the swords at his throat. If anything, the swords drew back slightly.

“So this is the magic circle supposedly left by the first human Mage. Fascinating indeed.”

He knew about the first human Mage. Devillian narrowed their eyes, realizing the source of that nagging sense of familiarity.

“You’ve won Crow over.”

“Something like that. Would you turn your arm a little? I can’t see it properly.”

“Enough! I knew something was wrong when you showed up in the meeting hall alone. You’re simply a lunatic.”

“Hmm, there’s something I’d like to ask.”

Amid the menacing atmosphere, he raised his hand. Right to the bitter end...

‘No. I can’t let him drag me into this.’

Losing their temper now would only be playing into his hands. Devillian forced down their irritation and nodded.

“What is it?”

“Normally, when someone shows up alone and acts this brazenly, wouldn’t you suspect he had something up his sleeve?”

Devillian chuckled dryly at the question. Something up his sleeve?

Judging by his composure, he might indeed be scheming something. But...

“What could you possibly do?”

Devillian asked, looking around.

There were more than ten chosen knights and eight Mages armed with staffs. What could he possibly accomplish here?

“Well, with this silver tongue of mine—”

A silver tongue?

Devillian frowned at the bizarre answer. Then that sense of familiarity sharpened.

“I can keep you all occupied.”

The man snapped his fingers.

Sounds that had been inaudible until now came pouring in. Clashing weapons, screams, battle cries...

Then someone smashed through the door.

“Sir Gilberton!”

The knight was a mess, but his eyes were clear. He swung his sword, and the knights holding their blades on Galahad hastily backed away.

Beyond the shattered door, the corridor was in chaos. Soldiers and knights were locked in combat.

A boy holding his sword in a reverse grip split a soldier from top to bottom. A scream rang out, and red blood sprayed in a long arc. Another soldier thrust a sword at the boy.

Just then—

“You sons of bitches.”

A staff smashed the soldier’s head apart. An old man entered, twirling the blood-red staff.

It was the commander of the Seventh Battalion, whom they had imprisoned beneath the Black Magic Society’s branch. How in the world...?

‘Crow, you bastard.’

“Devillian! Didn’t you say you’d dealt with the commander?!”

“You son of a bitch. Dealt with me, have you?”

“Damn it! This wasn’t our agreement!”

The deputy commander shouted, avoiding the old man’s eyes.

The room descended into chaos in an instant.

People lined up behind the man: a boy, a woman in a maid’s uniform, an old man with a staff, a knight in a ridiculous helmet, a soldier with a shield, and another knight. They were such a varied assortment that Devillian wondered how he had gathered them.

‘He came here alone and talked to buy time. And he spread mana around to block out every sound? Is that even possible?’

Devillian was genuinely impressed. This went far beyond boldness.

It had not even been half a day since his arrival. In that time, he had rescued the Seventh Battalion’s commander, then come here in person to stall them. And he had actually brought the situation to this point.

It was impressive enough to make Devillian wonder how he had done it.

“Enough!”

Everyone stopped at Devillian’s shout.

“Splendid.”

“I am rather splendid by nature.”

“Yes, impressive. I’ll grant you that.”

But...

“Did you think I trusted Crow?”

Devillian’s lips spread into a broad smile.

“Thank you for doing our work for us.”

Devillian smiled at the red blood staining their bodies. And Devillian was not the only one. The others smiled too.

The knights drew their swords. Ash-gray light slowly spread, their sinister aura expanding. There were more than ten chosen knights, each stronger than an ordinary knight.

Including Devillian, there were two executives and eight capable Mages. Every one of them had been chosen.

And in addition...

A sudden chill brushed Devillian. The proof of selection inscribed on their wrist reacted. A translucent barrier appeared before them, shattering the Ice Spike it intercepted. Cold fragments tickled their cheek.

“You cowardly...”

Devillian shouted with narrowed eyes.

“What a shame.”

As the man smacked his lips in disappointment, Devillian tapped the floor with their staff.

KRAAABOOM!!

The ceiling collapsed violently. The enormous tentacle that had smashed through it slammed down at them.

The old man deflected it with his aura-infused staff. The tentacle struck the wall behind them, smashing it to pieces. Without stopping, it slammed down again.

Just as the knight in the ridiculous helmet was about to step forward, the man called Gilberton moved instead.

The place where they had been standing collapsed beneath the tentacle. Cool night air swept through the breach and brushed Devillian’s face.

“Did you think a mere high-ranking Demon would suffice for our inauguration?”

The place where they had stood was gone. Devillian stood at the edge and looked down, eager to see the expression on that insolent man’s face.

He was in the arms of the knight with the ridiculous helmet, looking up...

‘... Smiling?’

He was smiling. And that smile sent a strange chill through Devillian.

* * *

“They’ve prepared more than I expected.”

Galahad clicked his tongue as he looked up.

Six enormous tentacles writhed around the fortress. Every one of them was terrifying in size and power.

Then the ridiculous helmet drew closer. Blue eyes were visible behind it, seemingly checking whether he was all right.

“I’m fine. Would you put me down?”

Adrianna nodded and gently set Galahad down.

“It’s similar to that time. It feels like a demon-beast that was already high-ranking has been forcibly elevated.”

Gilberton spoke with a grimace.

He seemed to mean the Demon-beast hybrid they had seen during the affair with Number Eight. It certainly felt similar.

“Wait, wouldn’t letting something like that loose put them in danger too?”

Galahad narrowed his eyes at Gilberton’s muttering.

It certainly did not seem to be under control. Yet the tentacles were aimed at them, not the enemy. As if the creature could not see its own allies...

‘Ah, it must be that thing they call being chosen.’

It seemed likely to be connected to the magic circle left by that first human Mage.

Just then, ash-gray fireballs flew toward them from the distance. Even a cursory glance counted more than ten, and their force was alarming.

These were not the sort of spells a staff-dependent imitation Mage should be able to fling.

‘This is—’

Galahad frowned and snapped his fingers. A spark shot out, aimed squarely at the center of a fireball. But it was the spark that vanished.

‘High mana concentration?’

Galahad compressed his mana and snapped his fingers again.

Only then did the fireball disperse, and even then it was slow. He worked backward from the speed of its dispersal to calculate the concentration.

‘The mana concentration is quite high. And the casting time is short, too. Why?’

Pondering this, he snapped his fingers in quick succession. Unlike before, he had to compress his mana, leaving him short on time.

“Explosive Fireball!”

Gwen’s fireball struck the final incoming fireball head-on. Her spell did not destroy it, but it did divert its course. The ash-gray fireball landed behind them.

Ash billowed out, and the ground shook.

‘This isn’t good.’

Galahad opened his canteen.

“The bastards are coming down!”

The old man shouted. Knights cloaked in ash-gray light were leaping down at considerable speed.

“Sir Gilberton!”

Announcing himself, Gilberton stepped forward. The old man followed, swinging his staff. Damian moved.

‘This won’t be easy.’

A Demon-beast hybrid beyond high-ranking, Demonic knights, and Mages armed with staffs and the magic circles left by the first human Mage. It was a formidable force.

There was a reason they had been so relaxed. The situation was bad.

But then Adrianna tapped her helmet.

‘We have Adrianna on our side.’

Galahad raised his head. The giant tentacles twitched ominously.

“Can you deal with that?”

She nodded.

“And if this were the Demon Realm?”

Adrianna fell silent.

“Hmm, we’ll need reinforcements.”

Galahad murmured as he looked up at the sky full of dark clouds.

Wouldn’t they have arrived by now?

The ridiculous helmet wobbled.

“I have something in mind. Now, let’s go.”

* * *

‘What in the world is he?’

Devillian’s eyes narrowed deeply.

They were using staffs set with high-grade mana stones, along with the magic circles left by the first human Mage. Devillian had been confident of defeating any Mage.

Until meeting him.

He was destroying their spells with nothing more than flicks of his fingers. Devillian would never have believed it without seeing it firsthand.

‘The Society’s president was right to be wary of him.’

Still, that would only get him so far.

“Deploy the sanctuary.”

Devillian gestured behind them. The Society members bustled into action.

Beyond the broken wall lay an enormous magic circle, painstakingly drawn. Mana stones were piled atop it like a mountain.

These were the stones the Black Magic Society had amassed over the years. What were they worth? Their value was beyond calculation.

An enormous staff was planted in the magic circle. It emitted a bizarre sound and blazed with light.

Then—

“U... Uaaagh! Help me!”

A man beside the magic circle failed to get clear and was sucked inside.

‘Idiot.’

Muttering a curse, Devillian backed away.

The mana stones turned to ash. A foul, acrid smell filled the room, then surged outward.

This was the legacy of the first human Mage. The stones, reduced to dust, swirled through the air and scattered like ash.

The ash expanded its territory in an instant. Devillian covered their mouth and nose.

As it spread, the ash drank in blood and grew denser.

Soon, ash filled everything around them.

The sanctuary had arrived.

...!

The demon-beast let out a savage roar, brimming with joy.

Devillian shuddered at the power in its voice. Its presence was so immense that it inspired fear even in someone who knew they were on the same side.

How could it be otherwise? This was a top-ranking demon-beast. What would happen when such a creature entered a sanctuary?

It was now an unstoppable calamity.

Devillian hastily examined their forearm. The inscribed magic circle glowed a fiery red.

‘It’s working properly.’

The ash-gray light intensified. The chosen knights howled like demon-beasts.

Devillian forgot all about the enemy. Now that the sanctuary was active, they had no chance of winning.

Not even if Adrianna herself came.

“With this, a new era has begun.”

This was only the beginning.

Eyes burning with fervor, Devillian looked around. The other Society members gazed back, their eyes full of emotion. Hot tears streamed down their faces.

Devillian looked at each of them in turn and nodded.

Then something suddenly felt wrong. The count was exactly right.

‘... But one of them was sucked in earlier, wasn’t he?’

Devillian checked again. The number was still the same.

‘Wasn’t he?’

At the very end of the line—

“Oh dear. You caught me.”

The man was beaming. Truly beaming, as if something wonderful had happened.

“You look as if you’re wondering how I got here.”

He curled his lips and rolled up his sleeve. There...

“I got myself one too.”

The seal of selection was clearly inscribed.

‘... Got himself one?’

Devillian’s mind went blank.

* * *

...!!

At the horrific shriek, Tom sank to the ground.

The enormous tentacles writhed violently, as if expressing delight.

The thick haze choked him. Uncontrollable terror welled up from deep inside. He did not even have the strength to move a finger.

And what good would it do anyway, with that vast embodiment of despair howling before him?

The thick blanket of ash swirled around that colossal despair. The fortress crumbled. The ground overturned. The earth shook violently.

That was not something anyone could stand against.

Then a white light flashed.

Someone was cutting through the dense ash, advancing toward that enormous despair. It was Adrianna, the hero of the North.

‘Ah...’

How could she advance like that?

CLANK.

An unpleasant sound came from beside him.

Something that had once been a knight, now a demon-beast, was approaching Tom, baring its ash-gray hostility.

Tom stared blankly at it. Not a single finger moved.

The demon-beast opened its mouth wide at him. Within it, he could see the knight’s face, drooling profusely as it watched him.

Just as it reached him—

“The yard, is it...”

A deep voice rumbled like the growl of a beast.

The approaching creature suddenly vanished.

CRUNCH.

That small sound was all there was. Drained of strength, the demon-beast collapsed.

“It will be a feast, just as he said.”

The Grand Duke advanced, chewing on a tentacle he had plucked out before Tom could even notice.