Chapter Eighty-Eight: The Lord I

Whether they possessed the ability to pursue across space is beside the point. Even if they did, to spend precious time hunting a high demon in the lower district at such a critical moment would be nothing short of unwise. He had not forgotten the true purpose of this journey: in the upper district, where the stench of gunpowder could be faintly felt even through the Wall of Sighs, the war between the Radiant Ones, the Swordbearers, and the cult of chaos burned more fiercely than ever, while the indescribable ancient evil sealed beneath the city of Helmthica stirred in its sleep. It was no empty alarm. The world stood on the brink.

So—

“Let’s go.”

The youth did not linger over the demon’s disappearance. After a brief survey to confirm that no enemies lurked nearby, he shook his head and looked to the girl at his side.

“There’s no time to waste.”

The Swordbearer from the Order said nothing, only nodded in silence.

But in the next instant, her serene face suddenly tightened. She drew the pair of cross-shaped swords from her back in one swift motion, emerald eyes filled with vigilance.

“It’s here again.”

She spoke, and the gravity in her tone made the Radiant One raise his brow.

“What is?”

He paused, instinctively lowering his voice as his hand fell to the short sword at his waist.

“Is it him?”

The girl shook her head, staring distractedly into the distance. Only after a long moment did she speak.

“A high demon.”

“A new enemy?” the youth asked, then read the answer in her eyes and gave a wry smile. “The lower district really is a den of filth. First the monsters of the Dark Guild, then the killer, then the information broker who deliberately sought me out, and now another high demon has turned up...”

“It’s different.” The Swordbearer shook her head again. After a slight pause, she answered, “It is a lord.”

“A lord?” The unfamiliar word made the Radiant One frown, though he did not dwell on its implications. “Sounds like no ordinary high demon. But the time the lords of darkness have left us is not much.”

He made his intention clear in a veiled way.

“We cannot leave it alone.”

Unexpectedly, the Swordbearer flatly rejected the suggestion that they retreat for the moment. Perhaps realizing his confusion, she rarely offered an explanation.

“A lord is the lord of demons. Given the conditions, it can directly create demons. The priority for cleanup is high.”

“So,” Amy said after a beat, “you mean to go take a look?”

“We cannot leave it alone.” She repeated her earlier words, sidestepping the issue. After lowering her head in thought for about five seconds, she looked up and fixed him with those calm, clear emerald eyes like a winter lake. “If you are in a hurry, then let me handle this one.”

“For someone so serious, you really are...” The Radiant One laughed in surprise. “It’s not some dragon’s den or tiger’s lair. I’m not about to stop here. Besides, as for the true form of this lord you speak of, I think I may already know it.”

A mask.

Near the estate of the giant Paul, there was only one shadow king he could think of—the one he had never truly dealt with.

“Oh.”

The Swordbearer gave a low reply, making no curious attempt to ask who it was, because the question was meaningless. To her, demons were merely enemies—enemies that had to be slain, had to be purged. Enemies in a struggle of life and death.

A lord, most of all.

Her homeland, her family, had been destroyed by such a lord.

The one designated XIII, codenamed Black Goat.

“There’s something I’ve always been a little curious about,” the youth behind her said, unaware of her drifting thoughts, and his question jolted her awake from the haze of that nightmare. “How exactly do you Swordbearers sense high demons? This thing about a field—I don’t have the slightest feeling for it.”

“The field comes from suppression at the level of life rank.” The girl, poor at conversation, searched for words. “Think of it as a beast’s territory, a hunting ground, or something similar.”

“But I’ve never been able to feel anything like that.” Amy spread his hands. “Maybe it’s because the blood of the ancients flows through me in no low purity. From the killer in the Yirdan mine pit, to that fellow’s draconic awakening, and now this so-called lord, I’ve never felt any suppression from life rank.”

“Radiant One.” She paused delicately on the term, then gave no direct answer. Instead, she merely nodded. “That is possible.”

Only possible, nothing more. The youth was not the only Radiant One she knew. During the time she served as a cleaner for the Order, the girl had worked with many Radiant Ones and helped bring down at least a dozen high demons. Compared with Swordbearers, Radiant Ones did indeed have greater resistance to the field when facing higher-ranking lifeforms, but not to the extent of complete immunity. Theoretically, if a Radiant One’s blood were purified to a certain degree, he might resist the pressure of a high demon, but that remained only a theoretical possibility. Whether she answered yes or no, it would still amount to a lie to Amy. So she could only answer: possible.

“I see.”

He was neither pleased nor disappointed by this. He simply followed behind the Swordbearer, studying the road beneath his feet, no stranger to it. When they reached the imposing iron gate before the end of the path, he nodded in understanding.

“So it is here after all.”

“You know this place?” There was no hint of doubt in the girl’s voice.

“Yes.” Amy did not deny it; there was no need to hide it. “This is the estate of the giant Paul.”

“Giant, Paul?” She savored the two words, emerald eyes on him. “A demon?”

“He could not possibly be a demon.” The youth flatly rejected the idea at first, then suddenly laughed. “Wait, I can’t say that so absolutely. If a demon lord can truly create demons at will, then perhaps he has already been revived as a ghoul.”

“He is dead?” The Swordbearer from the Order struck straight at the heart of the matter.

“I killed him.” The Radiant One did not evade it. “So I have my suspicions about the identity of this demon lord. It is very likely one of the actual rulers of the lower district, the shadow king known as the Mask.”

“Oh.”

The girl paid little heed to the enemy’s identity. To her, only dead demons were good demons.

“About it, any guesses?”

“That is rather much to ask. I merely heard rumors about him.” Amy shrugged and said half-jokingly, “If we want to learn more about the monster inside, we’ll have to speak with it face-to-face, with steel in hand.”

A moment later, he let the smile fade from his face.

“By the way, Mia. This so-called lord— is it an evolved form of a high demon?”

“A special type.” The Swordbearer answered. “In terms of harm, greater.”

She would never forget the shadow that obscured Nathaniel. She would never forget that chaos, writhing like a horned, hoofed beast. She would never forget those deep, sun-bright crimson eyes. She would never forget that nightmarish evening.

Yes, she had survived.

But only survived. Only she had survived.

Whether it was the hero Gunnar, who kept fighting even in the deepest darkness; the priest Abel, who lit the way for those who had lost their direction; the parents who died protecting her and her sister; or even her sister, who left her the last hope of living... all of them were dead. In the vast city of Nathaniel, there remained only a lone survivor, only her, all alone.

That was why, when she saw the indescribable chaotic abomination beneath the Yirdan mine pit, she fought it with everything she had, forced her power beyond its limits at any cost, and even with death already at hand, she still crossed that final step past the extreme to gain the transcendent power needed to win.

It was a lord—there was no mistake. It was a lord.

A demon lord like the Black Goat, ruling the dark kindred, possessing inconceivable power.

Kill it, kill it—

That was what she did, and nearly died because of it.

Yet fortunately, the omniscient and omnipotent Lord still watched over her. The backlash from that transcendent exertion did not kill her; instead, it helped her delve deeper into the power hidden within her holy mark, increasing her body’s compatibility with it and greatly reducing the burden caused by overloading her abilities. Both her stamina in battle and her explosive power had improved significantly, and even the unfathomable shadow in her heart had begun to show signs of melting away.

But she still could not forget—could not forget her hatred for lords, for demons. Even knowing full well that Amy Ulysses had reasons he had to go to the upper district, she still selfishly wanted to keep him here, hoping to borrow his strength, to borrow that miraculous holy sword of light, and use it to eradicate the demon lord lying in wait.

How selfish.

She hated even herself for such selfishness, yet hatred had rooted itself in her heart like poisonous weeds. No matter how much she loathed herself, no matter how desperately she tried to persuade herself to change her mind, she could not uproot the seed planted in childhood, could not forget Nathaniel, now wholly reduced to ruins.

I am sorry. Please forgive my caprice.

So she thought—and then she swung her sword.

The silver-white great cross sword severed the iron bolt and chain binding the gate in one clean stroke. With a hideous squeal of metal, the world’s malice surged toward them like a tide.

A field.

The Swordbearer forced herself against that repellent pressure and stepped forward.

I am coming.

With a soft sigh, the girl relinquished the last trace of hesitation in her heart. There was no more indecision in her emerald eyes.

“All that is unclean—”

She paused, and her gaze suddenly burned bright.

“Must be punished with flame and thunder.”