Episode 36: Homecoming (2)

Demian shouted to his soldiers, “Drop everything and mount your horses! We need to get out of here!”

The soldiers, already on edge from the sudden explosion, quickly obeyed his command.

“You two, get on your horses as well,” Demian instructed the knights. One of them hesitated and spoke up, “Sir Demian, shouldn’t we go back and help Sir Sebastian…?”

Demian slapped the knight across the face. The knight looked at him, stunned.

“Do you really think a low-class knight can make a difference in a duel between mid-class warriors? You’d just get in the way.”

“But…,” the knight started to protest.

“Enough nonsense. Get on your horse. Or do you plan to let all these soldiers die?”

The soldiers were visibly terrified. Seeing their faces, the knight nodded heavily. “Understood. Let’s move out.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” A strange voice interrupted them. The knights turned, startled.

A middle-aged man and a woman stood a short distance away. The man seemed ordinary, but the woman was strikingly beautiful. Yet, the soldiers couldn’t afford to be distracted by her looks. There was something ominous about the pair.

“Who are you?” Demian demanded. The man grinned. “That’s not something I care to share. We like to keep our secrets.”

Raising his voice, the man declared, “Our target is Demian Haxen. Leave him, and the rest of you can go free.”

The knights shouted back without hesitation, “Don’t be ridiculous! Do you think we’d abandon Sir Demian, a benefactor of the duchy?”

The middle-aged man clicked his tongue. “Knights… always need a demonstration to understand their place.”

He spread his hands, and dark magic surged from his palms, enveloping his body. Black magic circles appeared on his exposed skin.

With a grotesque sound, the man’s body began to twist and grow. In moments, he transformed into a giant over three meters tall, his skin turning a deep crimson, resembling a monster’s hide. Four tentacles sprouted from his back, thick as tree trunks and covered in scales.

“Madness School,” one of the knights whispered in terror. The term referred to those who used their bodies as conduits for dark magic, transforming themselves into something beyond human.

“Do you feel the difference in our power now?” the man taunted.

The more skilled the practitioner, the more extreme the transformation. This man had created new body parts, marking him as a high-ranking dark magician, equivalent to a mid-class knight. Three low-class knights stood no chance against him.

“I’ll make one last offer. Leave Demian Haxen, and I’ll spare those who flee.”

The knights’ faces turned pale, their hands trembling on their swords. “Sir Demian, we’ll stand by you,” one said. “Just give us the order.”

Despite their fear, they didn’t run. Instead, they steeled themselves for battle. Demian spoke to them in a firm tone, “Can’t you see? If we fight, we’ll all die. You should escape while you can.”

“We’d rather die than lose our honor,” one knight replied. “I feel the same,” said the other.

The middle-aged man chuckled. “Foolish. But it doesn’t matter. I planned to kill you all anyway.”

He gestured behind him, where the woman now held a black staff, dark magic swirling around it. The knights muttered in disgust, “So you planned to use dark magic if we tried to escape.”

“Such vile, despicable creatures…!” they cursed, but the man only laughed.

“Don’t expect a quick death. I’ll make you beg for it,” he sneered, moving forward as the knights drew their weapons.

Suddenly, Demian struck the two knights on the neck with the edge of his hand, knocking them out cold. Even the soldiers, trembling in fear, were shocked by his actions.

“Take them and flee to the duchy,” Demian ordered the soldiers. When they hesitated, he barked, “Now!”

Finally, the soldiers hoisted the unconscious knights onto their horses and fled down the forest path.

“I didn’t expect you to sacrifice yourself,” the middle-aged man mocked.

“Who said anything about sacrifice?” Demian retorted. “I just got rid of them because they’d be in the way.”

“In the way?” the man echoed incredulously.

“Yeah, I can’t fight properly with an audience,” Demian replied, stretching his body casually.

The man’s expression turned incredulous. “I knew you were arrogant, but I didn’t realize you were a fool. Do you know who I am? You’re no match for me.”

“I know. You’re a dark magician from Yuran,” Demian said, causing the man’s eyes to widen in shock.

“How do you…?”

“I also know your plan. You intended to use Chelsea Goldpixie to take over the duchy. You failed because of me.”

The man’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, realizing that not only had his identity been exposed, but so had his intentions.

“Ernst Horwitz’s talk of killing the duke was a lie. You never intended to kill him.”

Demian continued, stretching his arms above his head. “The duchy is too vast to control through assassination. You were trying to infiltrate and dominate it. But your real target was me.”

Demian cracked his neck. “I killed one of your leaders and ruined your plans. You wouldn’t just let that slide.”

That’s why they had involved Ernst Horwitz to kill Demian Haxen. To Yuran, Horwitz was just a pawn.

The proof was the dark magic coursing through Horwitz’s body, consuming his life force at a rapid pace. He wouldn’t survive the day.

“Why didn’t you reveal our identity sooner?” the man asked.

“If I had, you would have run. I kept it hidden so you’d come for me.”

The man looked at Demian, baffled. “Why draw us out? What’s your plan?”

“No plan. I just want to kill you myself,” Demian replied, his hatred for dark magicians evident.

Yuran had dared to target the Haxen family, and Demian couldn’t let that go unpunished.

“If you’re done with questions, let’s get started. I need to finish you off and go help Sebastian.”

Demian was confident Sebastian Vincenzo wouldn’t fall easily, but he couldn’t be complacent. Anything could happen in battle.

“I see you’re insane,” the man said, shaking his head. “But my decision to kill you was right. We can’t let someone who knows our secrets live.”

A cruel smile spread across the man’s face. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Mustang Fury, leader of Yuran. This is Rebecca, my deputy.”

Demian’s eyes narrowed slightly. He had known they were from Yuran, but not that they were the leaders. It made sense, given the dangerous plan to take over the duchy.

“Eliminating a threat like you is truly a blessing from the great Akrich,” Mustang said, his words causing Demian to freeze.

“Akrich? Dorogo?” Demian asked reflexively.

Mustang’s eyes widened in shock. “How do you know that name…?”

Suddenly, his mouth snapped shut, muscles contracting involuntarily, silencing him.

Mustang Fury couldn’t help but be taken aback.

His body had moved on its own, defying his master’s will.

“What the…?”

At the sound of the voice, Mustang Fury turned to look at Damian.

Only then did he realize why his mouth had clamped shut.

The atmosphere had shifted.

Just moments ago, Damian Haxen had been acting with a laid-back, leisurely demeanor.

But now, everything was different.

A fierce, murderous intent radiated from Damian’s eyes as he stared at Mustang Fury.

It was so intense that it was almost impossible to meet his gaze directly.

It felt like standing too close to a blazing inferno.

Mustang Fury found himself exhaling sharply, almost involuntarily.

Every muscle in his body tensed up. If he didn’t consciously remind himself to breathe, he feared he might stop altogether.

“Were you one of Dorgo’s men?”

A twisted smile played on Damian Haxen’s lips.

Amidst the overwhelming menace, a thrill seemed to blossom.