Episode 295: Obstacles (1)
The first to notice the arrival of the uninvited guests was Narita, the formidable force of Pandemonium.
As a necromancer of the School of Necromancy, she excelled at controlling the undead. Her skills were so renowned that she was entrusted by Dorgo with the command of the undead legion.
“Stop just attacking the walls! Bombard the top! Kill all the archers!”
While flying through the sky with her dark magic, directing the undead, she spotted a group emerging from the forest.
“Where did they come from now?”
Leading the group was a rather handsome man, followed by elves and humans. Curiously, the humans seemed to be surrounding the elves, as if to protect them.
“Humans? What are humans doing here?”
Narita stared at them, bewildered. In Elfheim, the only humans were supposed to be the necromancers and knights of Pandemonium. If they were from Pandemonium, they should be capturing the elves, not guarding them.
“I need to capture and interrogate them.”
She commanded the undead at the rear of her forces. The undead turned to face the newcomers.
“Capture them. It doesn’t matter if half of them die.”
The massive undead, understanding her command, let out a monstrous roar. Their cries echoed across the entire field.
“Stepping forward like that, they must be confident in their skills.”
Narita muttered, eyeing the man at the front.
“But what a shame, our little darlings aren’t ordinary either.”
Indeed, the undead filling the field were no ordinary creatures. They were crafted from the corpses of monsters collected by Dorgo, a master of all necromancers, over nearly a millennium. From extinct species to mutants, they were a diverse lot, all terrifying in life. Now, resurrected as undead and enhanced with dark magic, they were a formidable force.
Even a master-class warrior would struggle against them…
“Light?”
A radiant glow emanated from the man’s sword. The moment Narita saw it, she felt an instinctive aversion. This was no ordinary light; it was imbued with divine power.
“A paladin? No, it feels different from those hypocrites.”
As Narita grappled with her confusion, the man swung his sword. A brilliant arc of light sliced across the field, cleaving the densely packed undead in half.
”…”
Narita’s jaw dropped involuntarily. In a single strike, thousands of undead were obliterated. Even in her century-long life, Narita had never witnessed such a spectacle.
“Follow me.”
The man called to his companions, striding toward the fortress gates over the fallen undead. Seeing this, Narita instinctively realized she had to stop them. If a warrior of such power joined the elves, the tide of battle could turn unpredictably.
“Stop them! Kill them!”
The field was still teeming with undead. They began to fill the gaps, over ten thousand strong, ready to attack the intruders.
“He’s used such a powerful attack; he must be exhausted. If we all rush him…”
As Narita spoke, the man moved again. With each swing of his sword, the undead were cut down in swathes. Narita’s once-proud legion couldn’t even approach him before being decimated.
“What are you doing? Stop them! Hold your ground!”
No matter how much Narita shouted, it was futile. The man and his group drew ever closer to the gates.
-What is happening?
A voice echoed in Narita’s ear. Someone was using communication magic. Reflexively, she looked up. Floating in the air was an undead resembling a jellyfish, with six men standing atop it, exuding a formidable presence.
“Metrom…”
Metrom, the Helm Splitter. Among Pandemonium’s great evils, he was notorious for having the most enemies, thanks to his foul temperament. Annoyingly, he was skilled enough to still be alive despite it.
-If something unusual happened, you should have reported it immediately. Why did you remain silent?
“I can handle this myself.”
-Sure you could.
Metrom’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Narita bit her lip in frustration.
-I’ve seen enough of your incompetence. Stand down. I’ll deal with him.
Metrom and his lieutenants leapt from the jellyfish undead, landing in front of the man.
“Stop. I won’t allow you to approach the fortress any further.”
Metrom’s voice was filled with murderous intent.
“You seem confident in your skills, but… you’ve overestimated yourself, thinking you could break through here alone.”
Metrom gripped his axe.
“I’ll end you right here and now…”
“One Wheel.”
In an instant, the man’s aura flared like oil on fire, and he vanished. The next moment, Narita saw it.
The head of Metrom’s foremost lieutenant was severed along with his helmet. The torso and legs of the one behind him were separated. The lieutenant beside him was sliced diagonally across the body.
The lieutenants died faster than a blink, likely without even realizing their own deaths.
“You brat…!”
Only Metrom reacted to the man’s speed. He swung his axe horizontally, aiming to sever the man’s waist. The man countered with his longsword, aiming to cleave Metrom in two. The sword and axe clashed.
And the axe was cut through.
Like a hot knife through cheese, the axe was smoothly sliced apart.
“This… this can’t be…”
The sword that split the axe continued through Metrom’s head and torso, cleaving him in half. Metrom, the Helm Splitter, met his end by being split himself.
”…”
Narita could only shiver in terror. Metrom’s temperament was vile, but his skill was undeniable. He had claimed his position among the great evils with just an axe, without a mentor. Yet, he was killed without even a proper exchange of blows. It wasn’t even a matter of technique; he was simply overpowered by the aura blade.
“I… I have to run. If I stay here, I’ll…”
At that moment, Narita locked eyes with the man. The fear of death froze her heart.
“Uh, uh… ugh…”
The man swung his sword. A flash of light severed Narita’s neck. Her head and body fell separately to the ground.
With the necromancer in the sky dead, the undead lost control and began to rampage. This spared Damian from having to expend more energy.
“Why are you all just standing there? Move!”
The group, who had been staring at Damian in awe, hurriedly followed him. But Damian soon had to stop.
Suddenly, flames erupted right in front of him, forming a wall that blocked their path. These weren’t ordinary flames; they were hot enough to melt steel instantly. Flames Damian had seen in a past life.
One of Pandemonium’s pillars. Like Sla, the Weapon Master, another pillar of Pandemonium. The flames wielded by the Master of Inferno.
“A big shot shows up at the last minute.”
Damian muttered, looking annoyed. At that moment, someone descended gracefully from the sky. Seeing the man’s face, Damian couldn’t believe his eyes.
In his past life, the Master of Inferno always wore a mask, a smooth, featureless mask. But now, the Master of Inferno stood unmasked. Even more shocking was the face itself. It was identical to someone Damian knew.
“The Empire’s Greatest Sword?”
The Master of Inferno’s face was exactly like the Empire’s Greatest Sword. The only difference was the ears. Unlike the Empire’s Greatest Sword, his ears were long and pointed like an elf’s.
“Damian, that man is not the Empire’s Greatest Sword.”
Cynthia spoke urgently, glaring at the Master of Inferno with hatred.
“That man is the Master of Inferno, a necromancer of Pandemonium!”
At Cynthia’s outcry, the Master of Inferno glanced around.
“I came because the eastern legion’s atmosphere seemed off… and it turns out something incredible was happening.”
The Master of Inferno flicked his fingers, and a peacock made of flames appeared behind him. As soon as it appeared, the surrounding moisture evaporated, and the grass on the field turned yellow and crumbled.
This was no ordinary spirit. It was a supreme fire spirit.
“Sheshe, turn them to ashes.”
The peacock’s tail fanned out, and from the eye-like patterns, flames burst forth. The crimson fire engulfed Damian and his companions, setting the entire field ablaze.
The Master of Inferno watched the flames with cold eyes, then furrowed his brow slightly.
”…Huh?”
The flames were converging toward a single point. The speed increased, and soon all the fire unleashed by the spirit was being absorbed.
Then, everything became clear.
There stood the elves and humans, unharmed.
And there was Damian, holding a sphere of fire in his hand.
“What… what have you done?” the Master of Flames asked, his face stern.
Damian swallowed the fireball. Despite the flames being powerful enough to scorch the entire field, he remained unscathed.
The Master of Flames furrowed his brow even more at the sight.
“You wouldn’t understand even if I explained,” Damian said, brushing off his hands.
In a past life, Damian had faced a knight known as the Crimson Knight. During the War of Destruction, this knight was one of the empire’s heroes, famed for wielding fire.
Damian had encountered him in the midst of battle. After fighting for over two days, he emerged victorious.
The reason Damian could manipulate fire was thanks to the mastery he had stolen from the Crimson Knight.
“Seems you don’t feel like talking. Neither do I,” the Master of Flames said, spreading his arms wide. A massive magic circle appeared beneath his feet.
“You seem quite familiar with fire… but can you handle this flame?”
From the magic circle, a colossal flame erupted.
Ominously, the fire was as dark as pitch, with streaks of blood-red mixed in.
The black and crimson flames fused, forming a muscular man.
His body was pierced with gray stakes, from which a liquid continuously oozed.
Cynthia gasped in horror at the sight.
“Karma! You devil! What have you done to him?”
Karma.
Damian recognized the name. In his past life, Cynthia had commanded two Spirit Kings, and Karma was one of them.
The Spirit King of Fire.
A transcendent being said to have the power to burn the entire world.
“Karma, destroy them all,” the Master of Flames commanded, pointing at Damian and the elves. But Karma remained still.
“Disobedient again, I see,” the Master of Flames muttered, fiddling with a bracelet. The stakes embedded in Karma’s body drove deeper into his flesh.
-Aaaaargh!
The Spirit King of Fire let out a scream filled with agony. The Master of Flames issued his command once more.
“I won’t say it again. Kill them.”
Karma opened his mouth wide, as if his skin would tear, and flames spewed forth.
The pitch-black fire swept across the field, reaching up to scorch the sky.