Episode 306: The Power of the Past (2)
Just moments ago, Hella had been carrying Dorgo over her shoulder as she moved.
With her lightning-fast speed, she reached the edge of the island in the blink of an eye.
“Dorgo, where on earth did that monster come from?” Hella asked, her voice tinged with disbelief as she set Dorgo down.
Clutching his severed shoulder, Dorgo replied, “It’s the strongest undead I’ve ever created. Thanks to it, I was able to annihilate the humans.”
“What nonsense are you spouting?” Hella retorted, incredulous.
Though Demian Haxen wielded dark magic, he was undeniably human, not undead. Besides, with the empire and kingdoms still standing, how could he claim to have destroyed humanity?
“You stay here and recover. I need to go stop Demian Haxen,” Hella declared. Despite being taken aback by Demian’s power, she was one of only three Grandmasters on the continent. Retreating was not an option for her pride.
Grandmasters were individuals who had carved out an unparalleled domain that few could challenge. No matter how strong Demian Haxen was, the outcome of a real battle was uncertain.
“Hella, take me with you,” Dorgo insisted.
Hella looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean, take you with me?”
“Demian Haxen is in a human body now. He’s not a Death Knight. He’s much weaker than in his past life. This is our chance,” Dorgo explained urgently.
“Explain it so I can understand,” Hella demanded.
“This is our only opportunity! While Demian Haxen is still weak, we must capture him! It’s the only way to achieve my grand plan!” Dorgo shouted, his eyes flashing with a strange obsession and madness.
Hella sighed. She couldn’t comprehend Dorgo’s actions, but she knew he wasn’t one to speak without reason.
“Are you sure taking you will help us subdue Demian Haxen?” she asked.
“Yes! Trust me!” Dorgo urged.
“Alright, I’ll take you with me,” Hella agreed, lifting Dorgo and returning to the battlefield.
There, they faced off against Demian Haxen.
“Recreation Sword,” Demian said, addressing the astonished Hella Fallen.
“Your mastery allows you to manifest your imagination through your body,” he continued, noting her skill level was akin to the Empire’s greatest swordsman.
While the Empire’s top swordsman could manifest slashes from their imagination, Hella Fallen could embody her imagination physically, moving as fast as she could envision.
“How do you know so much about my mastery?” Hella asked, bewildered.
“I stole it,” Demian replied nonchalantly.
As a Death Knight, Demian’s talents had evolved rapidly with each battle. Initially, he could only spot weaknesses in his opponents. But soon, he could discern their techniques, eventually reaching a level where he could steal skills and mastery just by observing.
Thus, any knight who displayed their skills before Demian found themselves stripped of everything. Even the dark knights of Pandemonium were no exception.
During the War of Destruction, Demian had fought alongside many dark knights, including Hella Fallen. Her techniques, befitting a Grandmaster, were not easy for Demian to analyze, but it was only a matter of time. His abilities were evolving in real-time, and he had ample opportunities to observe her.
Eventually, Demian succeeded in stealing her mastery.
“What nonsense are you spouting?” Hella’s face flushed with anger.
“You claim to have stolen my mastery? Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think this is some street performer’s trick?” she scoffed.
Mastery was the culmination of a knight’s lifelong dedication and skill. It was their pride and everything they stood for. To say it was ‘stolen’ was beyond absurd—it was infuriating.
“Whatever trick you pulled, don’t get cocky over a mere imitation,” Hella warned, her eyes glinting coldly.
“Shita, step back. If you get caught in our fight, even you won’t come out unscathed,” she instructed.
Shita quickly retreated, and only then did Hella assume her stance.
“Demian, stay sharp. Otherwise, you’ll find your head and body separated,” she threatened.
Hella’s body vanished, and a barrage of slashes followed.
Neck, heart, forearm, knee.
Six slashes targeted Demian’s vital points. Despite being executed in succession, there was no gap between them. It was as if they were swung simultaneously.
Even for Demian, it was a perilous situation. No matter how sturdy his defensive aura was, it couldn’t withstand a Grandmaster’s aura blade.
Having experienced it in a past life, Demian knew this well.
Thus, he conjured an image in his mind—how his body should move, how to deflect the slashes.
As his vision materialized, Erebus moved.
The slashes, flying at the speed of light, were deflected at the same speed. Only after the slashes were repelled did the sound erupt.
“You…!” Hella’s address changed in her shock.
“You deflected my slashes?”
“I told you,” Demian replied casually. “I stole it.”
Hella’s eyes blazed with fury. She charged at Demian, her sword slashing at light speed, targeting every part of his body.
Yet not a single slash reached Demian. They were all blocked by slashes of equal speed.
“This can’t be! How can you wield my sword… my mastery…!” Hella’s anger grew with each blocked attack.
But nothing changed. Her attacks couldn’t even graze Demian.
“Argh!” Hella screamed in frustration. At that moment, Demian spoke.
“Being too fast is a problem too. You’ve been cut so many times, yet you still move.”
“What nonsense are you…?” Hella began, but suddenly, blood erupted from her body.
“What…?” Hella looked down at herself in disbelief.
Her body was covered in cuts, blood flowing from the sharp wounds. Every tendon in her body had been severed. She couldn’t even lift her arms, let alone stand.
When had this happened?
Despite being cut so many times, Hella hadn’t noticed her condition at all.
“Dorgo… how is this… weaker…?” Hella turned her head with difficulty, looking at the Empire’s greatest swordsman from afar.
The Empire’s greatest swordsman always wore an emotionless expression, like a puppet. But now, it was different.
He looked at her with eyes filled with sorrow.
“Foolish… I tried to kill you…” Hella’s words trailed off as her neck split open, and her head rolled to the ground.
Demian flicked the blood off Erebus and turned his head.
“Dorgo, did you think you could escape my grasp?” Demian expanded his senses, a fierce smile spreading across his face.
“You were closer than I thought.”
Returning to the battlefield, Dorgo immediately approached the demon lords.
“Guys! I’m here! Are you all right…?”
But he froze in place, seeing the extent of their destruction. They were far more damaged than he had anticipated.
-Mother!
A voice called from behind. Shita was running toward Dorgo.
-Why did you come back? You should have escaped!
“Is this the time to argue? Help me! We need to restore them!” Dorgo rushed to Epsilon first, who lay on the ground with a massive hole in his body.
-Mother…
“Yes, Epsilon! I’m here!” Dorgo reassured.
-I remember now.
“What do you mean?” Dorgo asked, his hands pausing momentarily.
-This isn’t the first time you’ve created us, is it?
Dorgo’s hands stilled for a moment. “You remember too?”
It wasn’t impossible. The four demon lords were created using Dorgo’s soul, linking them closely to him.
-I’m glad we could meet again…
“So am I. Now, let’s focus on healing you,” Dorgo urged.
-I never imagined I’d face Demian Haxen… fighting alongside him felt like having a god by my side… but as an enemy, there’s nothing more terrifying… his foes must have felt this way…
“Alright, alright, stay focused. I’ll fix you up right now,” Dorgo said, his hands working swiftly. The four demon lords were essential to fighting Demian.
While Hella bought time, he needed to restore them quickly…
“Dorgo.”
The voice from behind made Dorgo’s blood run cold.
Dolgo slowly turned around, his eyes meeting Demian Haxen, shrouded in darkness.
“What about Hela… What happened to her?”
“She’s dead.”
Demian’s reply was curt, as if questioning why Dolgo would even ask something so obvious.
“That can’t be… Hela was a Grandmaster… There’s no way a mere human like you, not even a Death Knight, could defeat her…”
“I’m not here to explain Hela’s death.”
A menacing aura radiated from Demian, freezing Dolgo’s expression in place.
“Mother, run! I’ll handle this…!”
Sita stepped in front of Dolgo, but it was a futile gesture.
Demian closed the distance and kicked Sita in the stomach. She flew sideways, blood spilling from her mouth.
“S-Sita…!” Dolgo gasped.
Demian advanced on Dolgo, thrusting Erebus forward.
The tip of Erebus pierced through Dolgo’s breastplate, emerging from his back.