Chapter 69 : The Play Is Not Over

The Eight Sword Masters.

They were men who had reached heights unfathomable, lords who ruled the world with overwhelming might none dared to challenge.

They were the absolutes of the continent, superhumans who shattered the limits of mortality, half-gods who transcended mankind. Monsters who could survive even with their hearts pierced, who could summon towering spires of ice dozens of meters high in an instant.

And yet, one of them—Frost—felt fear.

Because of the man before him.

“Mmm. It feels good to walk in the open again. The forest air is crisp. A little chilly, though.”

The man didn’t even seem to register Frost’s existence. He simply inhaled deeply and looked around, as though on a casual stroll.

But his presence was unlike anything else.

It was like standing before a mountain.

Frost asked, his voice faintly trembling, “Who… are you?”

He knew instinctively.

The form was the same, but inside… something entirely different.

The atmosphere had changed.

Where before there had been a Red Eye Devil, now stood a lofty dragon striding among the clouds.

Only, this dragon carried a chill menace, the sense that should anything displease him, he would rip it apart without hesitation.

A monster.

“Me, you mean?”

At last, the man turned his head toward Frost.

Their eyes met.

“…”

The instant their gazes locked, Frost felt his blood run cold.

And in that moment he realized—he had awakened the sleeping monster.

Never before had Frost seen such a being. A mere glance was enough to crush him.

The Red-Eyed Devil smiled faintly and took a step forward.

Thoom!

The earth shook.

It was just a light step.

Yet the ground quaked as though in an earthquake, trees shuddering in fear.

An overwhelming pressure blanketed Frost.

“I am, you see…”

Thoom!

“…the master of that pathetic disciple.”

Thoom!

“…the equal of a wandering cur named Banguli.”

Thoom!

“…and a spectator who has enjoyed this play thus far.”

The mountain walked toward him.

Frost struggled to keep his footing as the ground thundered with each step, never daring to take his eyes off the man.

Each stride felt as though it trampled every living thing beneath it.

His grip tightened on his sword.

The Heavenly Demon stopped and regarded him silently before speaking.

“Normally, I would never set foot on this stage.”

Swish!

Frost lunged like a spring uncoiling, his sword flashing like lightning.

Claaang!

“…!”

His eyes widened.

The Heavenly Demon had caught his blade barehanded.

Unperturbed, he continued, “But the play was on the verge of closing. I had no choice but to intervene.”

Frost pulled with all his strength, poured frigid qi into the blade, but the sword did not budge.

The Heavenly Demon smiled gently.

“To be honest, I’ve come to enjoy living for this play.”

Something about that smile chilled Frost to the bone.

When the Heavenly Demon finally let go, Frost sprang back instantly.

The man nodded in approval.

“The fight just now was worth watching. Even that dull disciple of mine seems to have realized something.”

He added magnanimously,

“Normally, showing killing intent toward me would earn you death, but since you provided such entertainment, I’ll let you live. Leave.”

But Frost did not retreat.

He had his mission: to bring back the devil’s head.

The Heavenly Demon shifted his shoulders, frowning.

“Not much time left. Hmph. This useless boy… still a long way to go. More training is needed.”

He cast a bored glance at Frost, who still held his sword ready.

“So, you won’t step back. Very well. You should enjoy these moments while they last.”

He crooked a finger.

“I’m in a good mood. I’ll allow you one move. Come.”

Arrogance incarnate.

Frost almost dashed in—but stopped.

The moment he entered that range, he knew he would be cut apart.

So he changed his approach, channeling mana into his blade.

Crrrk—

Blue ice crystals bloomed along the steel, each one carrying power enough to pierce solid stone.

Frost spun, whipping his blade in a wide arc.

Shhhhwip!

Hundreds of razor shards shot toward the Heavenly Demon.

“Oh ho. A curious trick.”

The Heavenly Demon raised a single hand.

He traced a broad circle in the air, palm open, moving neither fast nor slow.

Shhhhwip!

It was as though his hand brushed the flying shards. Then he pushed forward.

Every ice shard reversed course.

Frost’s eyes went wide.

Impossible…!

His ultimate technique, hurled back at him exactly as he had cast it.

He drove his sword into the ground.

Crash!

A wall of thick ice surged up, blocking most of the barrage.

But not all.

Several shards punched through, tearing into his body.

Splutch!

“Guh…!”

Blood spurted, then froze along his wounds.

Frost groaned, staring at the Heavenly Demon in disbelief.

The man spoke coldly,

“Time is short. I’ll end this quickly.”

Crack!

Frost, gritting his teeth, dragged his blade upward in a great diagonal slash.

A forest of ice spikes burst from the ground, racing toward the Heavenly Demon.

Rrrrip!

Just as they neared—

Thoom!

He stomped down.

The spikes shattered before reaching him.

Frost raised his sword again—but flinched.

A prickling sting touched his shoulder.

The Heavenly Demon was already beside him, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

“…!”

“Hmm. Fascinating body. To wield ice so well.”

He murmured in idle curiosity, then stooped to pick up a sword lying on the ground.

It was Ashuban’s broken blade.

The Heavenly Demon grasped it.

Flames burst across the fractured steel, and in moments the weapon was whole again.

“This much won’t kill you. After all, you stayed alive even with your heart pierced.”

The Heavenly Demon swung the fiery blade in a lazy diagonal, like a child swiping at branches.

Ssshhh!

A searing red gash burned itself across Frost’s chest.

“Kh—!”

He groaned under the pain, as though his flesh were aflame.

The Heavenly Demon patted his shoulder.

“The play isn’t over yet. No, it mustn’t end. The curtain still has a long way to fall.”

Frost’s eyes trembled as he looked up at him.

The Heavenly Demon continued with words that made no sense to anyone else.

“I still need to see my disciple claim the ninth demon sword. I want to watch him return to that so-called Maia Kingdom. I want to witness him fighting those beasts, reuniting with the Sherwood Mercenaries, and beating that so-called commander into the ground. You have no right to end this delightful performance. The play must go on.”

He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“But… you’re quite the amusing character yourself. A shame to kill you now. Better to let you cross blades with my disciple again one day. He’d surely learn a thing or two from it.”

Nodding to himself, he glanced back at Frost.

“A word of advice: you rely too much on your sword. Even a fine blade can be a curse. Stay away from that bluish weapon—use a wooden sword for a while.”

With that, the Heavenly Demon ended it.

“Work hard. If you don’t want to be devoured by him.”

His palm slammed into Frost’s chest.

Boooom!

The shockwave split the ground, air bursting outward in a dome.

Frost crashed through frozen trees, flung so far he vanished from sight, unconscious.

“Hmph…”

The Heavenly Demon, having swatted him aside, turned his gaze to the forest.

“The cat… is quietly watching.”

He nodded, then looked the other way—toward a low hill.

There, men had been hiding, watching the battle from afar.

He spoke quietly.

“They are not enemies. Come down and take my worthless disciple away.”

With those words, he closed his eyes.

Ashuban’s body went limp and collapsed to the ground.

On the hill where the Heavenly Demon had glanced—

Count Hermann Stavanger stood, his fists clenched, having arrived too late to intervene. He exhaled a suppressed groan.

“Hhh…”

His mouth hung open, words failing him.

The knights at his side were no different, struck dumb.

None of them had foreseen this outcome.

Frost… was defeated!

And not just defeated—overwhelmed.

It hadn’t been a duel.

It was a one-sided beating.

Like a grown man toying with a child.

They could scarcely follow the movements.

The disparity was crushing. It was violence beyond reason, beyond human scale.

Even now, their hands tingled from the pressure that had radiated off him.

Some knights had already collapsed to their knees, legs too weak to hold.

What… what is that man?

That such a being existed—this was enough to overturn not just the kingdom, but the continent.

One of the veteran knights finally found his voice.

“…My lord.”

The Count turned his stunned eyes toward him.

“What will you do?”

The man was a seasoned knight, hardened by countless battles.

“My lord, what do you intend for that monster—no, that man?”

The Count’s gaze shifted to Ashuban, lying unconscious.

The knight continued, voice low.

“With respect… he is too dangerous. This is the Red-Eyed Demon. If we bring him back and he turns against us, we have no way to stop him. I regret the promise to Lord Hans, but for the sake of the house’s safety, we should turn away and leave him here.”

“That’s nonsense!”

A younger knight burst out, hot-blooded.

“How could we throw away the chance to win over such a warrior? My lord, you saw it yourself! He toyed with Frost as if with a child! Anyone with half a brain can see—”

The veteran cut him off.

“And if he suddenly turns on us? Then what?”

The young knight shot back, “Then what if the First or Second Prince wins him over instead? When word spreads that he defeated Frost, they’ll do anything to claim him. And we’ll be left empty-handed!”

“He is a traitor who killed a noble.”

“And does that matter now? The king-to-be could pardon him with a single decree. Besides, Baron Barankia was hardly beloved. You know that.”

“Bringing him home is like welcoming a beast into the house.”

“Calling him a beast? He’s a man. Lord Hans himself said more than once that he’s a benefactor who saved his family!”

The knights began to argue, voices rising, opinions splitting.

The Count raised his hand.

“Enough.”

Silence fell.

He looked at Ashuban’s fallen form, and made his decision.

“We take him.”

A mix of cheers and anxious mutters rippled through the knights.

“Without risk, nothing can be gained.”

Mounting his horse, the Count gave his orders.

“He is an honored guest. He may be wounded—see that he is handled with care!”

“Yes, my lord!”

“And not a word of this must leak outside.”

“Yes, my lord!”

The knights answered firmly.

One by one, they mounted up and followed.

“Hyah!”

Thundering hooves carried them down the hill to claim Ashuban.

“…”

From the woods, Shushruta watched them in silence.

(End of Chapter)

Tip: Tap/click the left or right side of the screen to go to previous/next chapter.