“Kuhuhuhu… so this is how it ends, huh.”
Goltche the Butcher.
His massive footsteps echoed through the halls of Barungenia as a foul smile curled across his lips.
“Ugh—gross.”
The one gagging at the sight was none other than Lin.
“Lin Siart. Seems you couldn’t handle it alone either.”
“W-Who says?!” Lin snapped, “I would’ve figured it out without you! I just didn’t have enough time, that’s all…”
“Sure, sure, little brat.”
“Brat—what?! Hey!”
Ignoring Lin’s angry outburst, Goltche approached the man who had summoned him here.
“The next Demon King—Clay.”
He uttered the title in his usual thick, viscous tone.
“Even now, I can’t quite believe it.”
The once-revered Hero who had driven the demonkind to the brink of destruction was standing before him.
“What I can believe is how much weaker you’ve gotten.”
Though his body was thoroughly concealed by clothing, Goltche’s prior investigations had already revealed that Clay’s condition was far from what it once was.
“Goltche.”
Cardin, who had escorted him here, glared sharply.
“You’re speaking to the one who will be our Demon King. Watch your tongue.”
“Such fanfare. He’s not Demon King yet.” Goltche glanced down at Clay, “Am I wrong?”
“You’re right, Goltche,” Clay said calmly, looking up at him, “But I’d like you to remember that it wouldn’t take much to stitch that corpse of yours back together.”
“Kuhuhuhuhu!” Goltche burst into wild laughter, spreading his arms wide, “Yes, that’s him! That man! The one all of demonkind feared!”
Clink!
The saw in his hand clattered to the ground.
“I doubt you called me here for small talk. You’re finally ready to begin modifying your body, aren’t you?”
“Something like that,” Clay replied. “I want to alter my constitution.”
Not every poison works on every creature.
Likewise, not every circle could be applied to every body.
“I want a body immune to the priestly sealing circle they’ve carved into me. From what I gather, we’ve gathered enough data to make that possible.”
A wicked smile stretched across Goltche’s lips.
“With that gifted body of yours, anything is possible. Everything is prepared. If you can just withstand the pain—of tearing, sewing, breaking, bending in ways bones were never meant to bend.”
It was a horrifying declaration, but Clay didn’t so much as flinch.
“As long as the results are guaranteed.”
“Excellent!”
Goltche turned sharply toward Lin.
“It’s time, Lin Siart!”
“Uh, wha?”
“To twist, extract, drench, and evolve this body—I’ll need your magical expertise too! Even I can’t do this alone!”
This would not be some ordinary operation. Clay’s body would be implanted with demonic organs, his spine replaced with the bones of a dragon, and his blood completely changed to something altogether new.
Powerful potions would be needed to prevent shock, and magic to bridge the gap between soul and flesh.
Everything had to be perfectly synchronized—like the coordination between surgeon and anesthetist.
“Clay, this won’t be like human surgery,” Goltche warned in a heavy voice, “No more healing spells. Your body—once chosen as humanity’s Hero—will react with rejection, and it’ll be far more violent than anything you expect.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for,” Clay said, eyes gleaming with fierce light, “As long as it doesn’t fail.”
“That’s all I need to hear!” Goltche declared himself a prophet.
“Let’s begin!”
♧
How long had they been fighting?
Yuru barely managed to rise, her body swaying with dizziness.
Fwoooosh…
The wind whistled through the canyon, whipping her hair around.
Clang!
A man staggered forward and drove his sword into the ground before her.
“…Impressive.”
Mayal.
The Guardian Knight sent to confront her.
His body was in tatters from enduring dozens of spells.
“But not enough,” he muttered.
Despite his condition, he had not fallen. His body, blessed by divinity, had durability far beyond that of normal humans.
If only I had more strength left…
Panting, Yuru stared at him.
She hadn’t rested properly on her way here, and she had drained too much mana.
Mana Overload.
She had absorbed and burned through excessive amounts of magic, pushing her body into dangerous backlash. Her vision blurred. Her head spun.
“Yuru.”
Mayal raised his sword.
“This is the end.”
Maybe… he was right.
The Guardian Knights were created to slay demons, but they were just as adept at exterminating anyone who opposed the Church.
If she couldn’t resist any longer, it would only take a few minutes for her to be erased from this world.
The end?
Only if she truly couldn’t resist anymore.
Crack!
Veins bulged across her body. Like a volcano rising from the sea, her blood vessels glowed red, pumping with molten fury.
Her body radiated heat.
As heat shimmered around her form, Yuru stood tall.
“Mayal.”
She locked eyes with him.
“Do you… really believe in God?”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m asking whether someone like you, born in the savage lands and having touched shamanistic power, truly worships the same deity as Holy Krata.”
“…That’s blasphemous.”
Mayal’s expression twisted with disgust.
“All the gods of the Holy Alliance are one and the same.”
“Then are you saying Krata embraces even the gods of primitive tribes?”
“That’s not for me to judge.”
“So depending on the era, your religion just… shifts conveniently? Sounds pretty flimsy.”
A cheap provocation.
Mayal began walking toward her.
“Whatever you say, the outcome won’t change. Let’s not waste any more time.”
Fwoooosh!
Light gathered around Mayal’s greatsword.
“With the power of divinity, I’ll cut down your heresy.”
Yuru said no more.
She simply stood still—waiting.
Calmly.
Until he got close enough, and then—
Kwaaaang!
The moment Mayal’s greatsword came crashing down with a deafening roar, Yuru swung her fist sideways.
Clang!
Her punch struck the side of the blade.
Ordinarily, it should’ve been nothing more than a meager act of resistance.
“!”
But Mayal’s sword was flung back—like it had struck a monster.
“What…?!”
At the same time, Mayal staggered, as if the force of the deflected blow had pushed his entire body.
It was a tremendous impact. Something no normal mage’s body could produce.
Drip…
It wasn’t some hidden trump card. Blood burst from Yuru’s fist. Her swollen veins split, spraying crimson fluid.
No—this wasn’t just blood.
Mana intoxication…!
For a brief moment, Mayal understood.
Yuru was staring at him—eyes unfocused.
Suffering from mana overload, she had intentionally drawn in even more mana and forced herself into a state of intoxication.
When intoxicated, one draws in massive amounts of ambient mana—more than one’s body can handle.
Ordinarily, it would be impossible without shutting off even the subconscious defense mechanisms.
Whoosh!
Yuru’s fist lashed out again, striking Mayal as he collapsed with his sword.
Kwaaaaang!
Her broken body could no longer cast complex magic, so Yuru had resorted to something else—she gathered mana in brutal excess and used it to harden her body.
Like extracting salt from seawater and compressing it into something solid, she refined the flowing mana down to its purest form, layer after layer, fusing it into her flesh until her body was as durable as solid ore.
“Urgh!”
Mayal let out a heavy groan as her punch smashed into his side.
He had been caught off guard.
While he thought she had only hardened her body, she had also drawn magic circles on the ground.
Carved covertly with her feet—each one now triggered beneath him as she drove him into her trap with every punch.
Boom! Boom! BOOOM!
Wherever he stumbled, an explosion awaited. With every strike, Yuru funneled him deeper into a landmine of magical traps.
“N-No… impossible…!”
To be outmatched in close combat by a mage—it was inconceivable for a Guardian Knight.
Crack!
The difference in endurance was glaring.
Her fists were soaked in blood from the strain, but she kept hammering forward.
Her tactics—combining blunt force with spells—meant it was only a matter of time.
“Are you a moth drawn to flame?!”
Mayal roared, spitting blood, and swung his greatsword.
The blade slammed directly into Yuru’s body.
“That should…”
That should’ve ended it.
“Liberation.”
At that moment, light burst from her eyes, nose, and mouth—pure red, which then turned blue and surged toward Mayal like a tidal wave.
“GAAAAAAH!”
The floodgates of sealed mana burst open, unleashing an immense wave of energy all at once.
It wasn’t magic.
It was pure, undiluted energy—like a munitions depot erupting in flames.
It wasn’t channeled properly.
It exploded from her body like a divine catastrophe.
“AAAAAGH!”
“Help—!”
“KYYAAAAH!”
The already-fallen soldiers caught in Yuru’s previous magic were swept away again by the blast.
The entire area was razed to the ground.
And standing at the heart of the devastation, Mayal could only tremble in fear.
“Y-You’re a… m-monster…”
His body ignited.
Even the divine blessings couldn’t protect him from the force that shredded the world around him.
He raised his glowing sword to shield himself from the storm, but there was no place to hide.
“What… are you…?!”
One of the Hero’s former party members.
Everyone knew she was a powerful mage, but no one had imagined this level of destruction.
An out-of-control mage usually vaporized themselves instantly.
Yuru shattered that expectation completely.
Mayal was the one crushed by terror now.
“GRRRAAAAAAGH!”
His armor cracked like dry earth. His muscles and flesh were ripped like paper.
And in that moment—Mayal realized the truth.
Primal…!
This woman was the embodiment of the ancient roots of shamanism, a master of the primal source itself.
Not just a mage…!
Origin.
That was the word he tried to say—before his jaw was blown off.
Everything was swallowed in blue light.
Even Yuru’s figure vanished, consumed by her own radiance.
♧
“This… this can’t be…”
Lilien’s expression hardened as she reached the swamp with her Royal Guard.
They had been ambushed.
Royal Knights lay dead across the field.
Lilien immediately pulled out one of the arrows embedded in the corpses and examined it.
“This is…!”
Yaphennon’s.
“Those bastards…!”
They had ambushed the Royal Knights during their return.
Lying in wait in this forsaken land beyond Ezer’s borders—between so-called allies.
“Vile, rotten scum!”
Fury burst from Lilien’s voice as she stared at their unabashed brutality.
“Hurry! We have to save them!”
All five hundred Royal Guard knights moved in unison at her command.
(End of Chapter)