Episode 303: Memory (1)
A Duke-level demon.
The moment he heard those words, the Empire’s greatest swordsman recalled the demon that had recently clashed with the Holy Order.
Vahel.
A Duke-level demon wielding the power of ‘Isolation.’
Vahel often employed a tactic of attacking enemies with solid, isolated pillars of space. But that wasn’t the only use of his power. By isolating senses, he could rob someone of their sight.
As these thoughts raced through his mind, the Empire’s greatest swordsman realized what was happening to his own body.
“My body’s flow… it’s all been ‘isolated.’”
“Smart, but it won’t change a thing,” Dorogo sneered.
“A demon’s power is on a different level than a mere curse. No human body can break free from it.”
Dorogo glanced at the Master of Flames and added, “Leos, you did well. Without you, we couldn’t have cornered the Empire’s greatest swordsman.”
The Master of Flames remained silent, also suffering under the power’s torment.
“Ugh… Argh…”
Yet, the Master of Flames didn’t remove the spike embedded in his chest. He only glared at the Empire’s greatest swordsman with eyes full of hatred.
“Leos… you must really despise me… but I can’t grant your wish…”
The Empire’s greatest swordsman calmly assessed his own body. Though his flow was ‘isolated,’ he could still breathe a little, his magic could still move slightly, and his blood still flowed, albeit weakly.
The power of ‘Isolation’ wasn’t perfect. The fact that he was still alive was proof of that.
He resisted the power, trying to reclaim control over his body.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Hella Forn said, astonished. She had noticed the changes in his body early on.
“To think a human’s will could resist a demon’s power. I guess it’s time to stop holding back.”
Hella Forn summoned her dark magic. The vast energy concentrated in her legs as she crouched like a sprinter.
Boom.
As she launched herself, a flash of light streaked toward the Empire’s greatest swordsman.
Hella Forn, the leader of Pandemonium, was a master of swift swordplay. Her movements and strikes had already reached the speed of light.
As she became a beam of light, she swung her sword, aiming to sever the Empire’s greatest swordsman’s neck.
In that moment, he envisioned a sword that could deflect light.
As the image crystallized in his mind, Hella Forn’s sword was knocked away with a sharp sound.
His vision didn’t end there. He imagined a sword pursuing Hella Forn, striking at her.
Invisible slashes rained down on her, forcing her to retreat as she parried the mental sword.
“Eos! You monster!” Hella Forn shouted with a bright smile.
Despite her attack failing, she seemed genuinely pleased.
“Is your mental sword still intact? As expected of the man I acknowledged!”
Even as he was dying from the demon’s power, the Empire’s greatest swordsman’s mental sword remained formidable.
“But how many times can you use it in that condition?”
He was dying from isolation. Even for him, repeatedly using the mental sword in his current state was impossible.
“Besides, I’m not alone.”
The four Demon Lords had gathered behind Hella Forn, each wielding a weapon.
The Master of Flames was out of the fight, but four even stronger monsters had joined.
In contrast, the Empire’s greatest swordsman had lost the support of the World Tree and was dying from the demon’s power.
Yet, he raised his sword, ready to face Hella Forn and the four Demon Lords.
“Eos, just give up. At least meet your end peacefully.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why are you being so stubborn? You weren’t always like this.”
At her question, the Empire’s greatest swordsman gave a bitter smile.
A young elf who had left his island to broaden his horizons had fallen in love with a noble of the Empire.
It sounded like a beautiful love story from a romance novel, but the reality was far from it.
His mother, pregnant with a half-elf, was exiled from Elfheim.
Without the World Tree’s vitality, she grew weaker by the day.
His father no longer loved her once she lost her beauty.
He had a wife and an heir to his family elsewhere.
His father ignored not only his mother but also his two sons, never giving them proper attention.
His mother was betrayed by both her homeland and the man she loved.
How much pain must she have endured?
Even as a child, the Empire’s greatest swordsman felt sorry for her.
And he felt guilty.
As if their existence had ruined her life.
As if they were the cause of her suffering.
─Eos, what would you like for dinner tonight?
But his mother never blamed her sons.
─My son, you’re all grown up now.
─Eos! I told you not to fight with your brother!
─Just wait a little longer. I’ll knit you a wonderful sweater with this yarn.
She gave them all the love they never received from their father.
Thanks to her, Eos never felt his father’s absence.
But she didn’t live long. She collapsed the year her sons came of age.
─Elfheim… I wish I could run through its forests…
Even on her deathbed, she longed for Elfheim.
Despite being cast out, she couldn’t forget her homeland.
That’s why the Empire’s greatest swordsman came here.
To repay his mother’s love, to protect the homeland she loved until the end.
“Hella, enough with the pointless talk. Or are you scared of me?”
At his taunt, Hella chuckled and launched herself again.
A strike at the speed of light came at him, followed by the four Demon Lords.
With a loud explosion, clumps of earth rained down.
If it were just him, Damian could have easily escaped.
But the problem was the elves. He couldn’t save them and escape at the same time.
“Dorogo, you bastard!”
It was clearly a trap. Damian cursed, swinging his sword, Dawn.
The aura storm from Dawn pierced through the falling debris.
For a moment, the ceiling opened up, but it was quickly filled again.
The sheer volume of falling earth was overwhelming.
Desperately, Damian racked his brain, trying to find a way to save the elves and escape.
“Damian… Haxen…”
Then, Hata, lying on the ground, spoke with difficulty.
“Leave us… go… save yourself…”
Damian froze at those words, haunted by an unpleasant memory.
─Brother! Run! We can’t hold them!
His teeth ground together. His head felt like it was about to explode.
He couldn’t stand it.
Being toyed with by Dorogo.
Having to give up something because of him.
The frustration and anger were unbearable.
“Ugh!”
Suddenly, a headache struck. It wasn’t ordinary pain; it felt like his head was splitting open.
Damian clutched his head, enduring the searing pain.
“Ugh…”
His vision went dark, and a familiar scene unfolded before him.
A castle in ruins, engulfed in flames.
Undead slaughtering people.
Damian stood atop a high tower, watching the chaos below.
“Is this…?”
He had seen this place in both his past and present lives.
It was the Imperial Palace.
As he realized this, a familiar voice called from behind.
─P-please… spare me…
Dorogo, reduced to just his upper body, was begging desperately.
In front of him stood a knight in black armor. Damian’s eyes widened as he recognized him.
It was his past self, Damian Haxen, transformed into a Death Knight.
Finally, Damian understood what memory he was witnessing.
He was seeing the moments before his return.
─Go to hell.
His past self mercilessly stomped on Dorogo’s head until it turned to dust.
─W-who are you…?
A middle-aged man, the Emperor Howard Adelaite, asked in shock from a distance.
But his past self didn’t even glance at the Emperor.
─I still have something to do.
He reversed his grip on Erebos, pressing the blade to his chest.
─I need to apologize. To say I’m sorry.
Without hesitation, his past self drove Erebos into his chest.
The blade pierced through, emerging from his back. And with that, his past self died.
This was as far as Damian’s memory went. But the memory didn’t end there.
Suddenly, a strange power began to flow from the wound in his chest.
It wasn’t magic, dark magic, or even divine power. Not even the true power of a demon.
“Why was this power stored in my body…?”
In his past life, Damian looked down at his chest, bewildered.
Suddenly, a magical sigil appeared on Damian’s skin, intricately etched across his entire body.
Examining the sigil, past Damian’s eyes filled with rage.
“Dorgo! This is your doing, isn’t it? What were you planning to do using my body?”
He tried to erase the sigil, but it was futile. Instead, it glowed even brighter.
Eventually, the seven symbols embedded in the back of his hand began to shine. The power surging from Damian’s body flowed into the symbols, activating seven distinct abilities simultaneously.
“Ugh!”
Unable to withstand the manifestation of these powers, Damian’s body began to collapse.
A black void formed in the air, pulling Damian in. It didn’t stop there; it also absorbed Dorgo’s lifeless body lying on the ground and finally, Howard Adelite.
After consuming the three, the black void closed.
“Gasp!”
At that moment, Damian snapped back to reality, emerging from the depths of his memories.
If he wasn’t mistaken, those were memories of the past—memories he had forgotten, or perhaps never even realized he had.
Mylene was right. The reason Damian could reverse time was due to the powers he possessed. He just hadn’t realized it because his memories had been erased.
“Dorgo, you intended to sacrifice me.”
Damian’s body had been destroyed, unable to withstand the ritual’s activation. Dorgo must have planned to destroy the empire and then use Damian as a sacrifice to return to the past.
“Even if I tore you apart a thousand times, it wouldn’t be enough for a scum like you!”
The thought of almost being used by Dorgo until the very end filled him with rage. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on emotions.
Debris from the ceiling began to pile up on the floor. If things continued, the elves would be buried alive.
Suddenly, Damian recalled Mylene’s words. Dorgo had combined powers to “restore” objects, making them appear as if time had been reversed.
And Damian had seen how Dorgo attempted to reverse time in his past memories.
“If I saw it, I can do it. That’s the kind of person I am.”
However, he lacked enough powers. Damian had only unlocked five of them. He needed the true power of a demon to unlock more.
Damian knelt, placing his hand on the magical sigil on the ground. If Dorgo had created it, Damian could manipulate it too.
As he infused it with dark magic, the sigil began to glow.
“If you can activate magic, you can also stop it.”
First, Damian halted the demonic power that had seeped into the World Tree.
“Gasp…!”
“I-I can breathe again!”
The elves exhaled deeply as their connection to the World Tree was restored.
Next, Damian extracted the true power of a demon through the sigil. As the power was released, he absorbed it all, awakening a dormant ability.
The power of Sloth.
An ability to manipulate time.
In his past life, Damian had used this power to accelerate or slow down his enemies. But now, things were different.
He used the power of Envy on his magic, transforming it into the mysterious energy he had seen in his memories. Then, with the power of Wrath, he amplified this energy, simultaneously unleashing the powers of Pride and Sloth.
The powers combined, creating a new ability.
The falling debris gradually slowed, then stopped entirely in mid-air.
“It stopped…?”
“How is this possible…?”
The elves looked up in astonishment.
Damian pushed the ability further, and the debris began to rise back into the sky. The destroyed cavern returned to its original state, as if nothing had happened.
”…”
”…”
The elves stared at Damian in awe, as if they were witnessing a god.
“Haah, haah.”
Damian panted heavily. Even using his powers for a brief moment had drained his strength and magic.
“Are you all okay?” he asked the elves, who nodded slowly.
“Good. Rest here and recover your strength.”
Though exhausted from using his powers, Damian still had work to do.
He headed to where the dimensional gate had opened. Though it was closed now, with the power of Pride, Damian could see the traces left behind.
Pride’s power allowed him to manipulate space, making it possible to reopen the closed gate.
Damian squeezed out the remaining magic he had, activating the power of Pride. The closed dimensional gate reopened.
Without hesitation, Damian leaped through.
It looked like a storm had swept through.
The entire field was utterly destroyed, cracked open as if by an earthquake.
“Cough.”
In the midst of it all stood the Empire’s greatest swordsman, his body covered in wounds, blood trickling from his mouth.
“Why am I still alive…?”
Hela Fallen asked incredulously.
Despite being attacked by the leader of Pandemonium and the four great demon lords, the Empire’s greatest swordsman had endured. Even though the demon lords hadn’t revealed their true forms, it was still a remarkable feat.
“I’m curious too. Why haven’t you managed to kill me yet?”
Hela Fallen chuckled at his words.
“Eos, you’re impressive. But don’t think I don’t know you’re at your limit.”
As if to prove her point, the Empire’s greatest swordsman fell to his knees.
Hela Fallen approached him. Even with the enemy right in front of him, he couldn’t lift his sword.
“Sigh…”
He looked up at the sky.
Since birth, he had been able to read the flow of fate. Even now, he was peering into destiny.
The chaotic flow of fate pointed to one path.
Death.
The destiny he had foreseen was finally upon him.
“Eos, your head will be my greatest treasure.”
“Make sure to keep it clean every day.”
Hela Fallen raised her sword high.
The Empire’s greatest swordsman didn’t close his eyes. He wanted to witness his fate until the very end.
But then, something strange caught Eos’s eye.
“What…?”
The flow of fate became chaotic once more. The inevitable death began to scatter.
“Could it be…?”
Above Eos’s head, a dimensional gate opened. From it, Damian Haxen emerged.
As soon as he landed, Damian swung his sword at Hela Fallen, who dodged and retreated, glaring at Damian in disbelief.
“How did you get here…?”
“I finally caught up!”
But Damian paid no attention to Hela Fallen.
“Dorgo!”
He shouted, eyes fixed on the one person he had a bitter history with.
“Stay right there! I’m sending you straight to hell!”