WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
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◈ Whispers of a Scheming Demon ◈
Chapter 166: Parazael
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Ilea’s Mana wrapped around Nedval.
Bundles of thin blue threads began to consume Nedval’s entire body.
The probing magic was examining Nedval’s essence.
Nedval offered no resistance.
Nedval merely stared at Ilea with a vacant expression.
Nedval spoke in a dry voice.
“Sovereign of Magic, I intended to reveal my identity even without you resorting to this method.”
Ilea smiled with her eyes.
“I’m sorry, but I only believe what I have confirmed with my own eyes. Please wait a moment. I’m nearly finished.”
Blue Mana seeped into Nedval’s body.
It spread through every opening and ran through Nedval’s entire body.
Nedval convulsed like a trembling aspen.
Nedval’s eyes spun wildly.
Ilea let out a small sound of admiration.
Even amid the seizure, Nedval spoke calmly.
“Are you finished?”
Ilea nodded.
“I’ve confirmed it. You may come out now.”
At once, Nedval’s mouth split open.
A solid, milky-white mass was vomited out along with blue Mana.
It was a grub covered in pale, sickly skin, something like an insect larva. It wriggled in the puddle of Mana.
It was slightly smaller than Ilea’s hand.
Ilea picked it up.
“Keek, eeeeek!”
An unpleasant sound burst from the grub’s mouth.
Ilea tilted her head.
“Can’t you speak?”
“Keek, eeeeek!”
“It seems you can only communicate properly by borrowing your host’s body.”
“Keek!”
Ilea brought the grub close to Nedval.
Like a fish returned to water, it immediately darted into Nedval’s mouth.
Nedval opened their eyes again.
Nedval’s eyes rolled wildly. Their muscles spasmed, and their entire body convulsed.
Nedval’s body and consciousness were coming back into sync.
Ilea murmured softly.
“How interesting.”
Nedval opened their mouth.
“I am a demon that devours a human’s sense of self and steals their flesh. My name is Parazael. As I said before, I came to this land to meet the Thirteenth Apostle of the End.”
Ilea gave a small clap.
“In other words, you’re a parasite, Parazael.”
Nedval’s expression tightened slightly.
Nedval cleared their throat before speaking.
“...That is not entirely inaccurate. In any case, I can turn the Watcher of Narak into a puppet. I can take the Watcher’s body and claim that great legacy.”
Ilea slowly nodded.
“You certainly possess a useful ability. Most humans would be utterly helpless before that Authority.”
The corners of Nedval’s lips rose slightly.
“As expected of the Sovereign of Magic. You recognize the value of my power.”
Ilea fell silent for a moment.
Parazael was certainly a demon with many uses.
It would likely be of great help to Johan in the future.
Recruiting it as a subordinate would be beneficial in many ways.
Ilea muttered to herself.
“...There is one problem, though.”
Nedval spoke coldly.
“There is no problem. We need only destroy that loathsome human, the Watcher of Narak, at once and offer all of his legacy to the Thirteenth End.”
For some reason, Nedval’s eyes held anger when it mentioned Johan.
It was clearly different from the gaze of someone looking at prey.
Nedval, no, Parazael, clearly hated Johan.
Ilea spoke.
“Parazael, you hate the Watcher of Narak.”
Nedval ground their teeth.
“To say I hate him is not enough. I despise him. Especially when I look into his eyes, killing intent keeps rising within me.”
Parazael’s blind hostility toward Johan came from the Great Saint’s Eye.
The Great Saint’s Eye instilled reverence in humans, but it stirred endless hatred in demons.
From the moment Parazael met Johan’s gaze, it had been unable to escape its malice toward him.
Even now, it was boiling with rage.
Ilea sighed.
“That hostility is the problem.”
Nedval looked unable to understand.
“What do you mean?”
Johan was the Thirteenth End.
The moment Parazael learned that fact, its attitude might change.
There was a clear chance that its loyalty toward the Apostle would weaken.
Depending on the circumstances, it might truly harm Johan.
Ilea did not want to bear that risk.
Still, she coveted Parazael’s ability.
Ilea spoke.
“First, I should discuss this with Johan. The timing is good, too.”
Footsteps could be heard beyond the reception room.
Perhaps Johan was approaching.
Nedval spoke with a puzzled expression.
“What could you possibly have to discuss with the Watcher of Narak? I have not understood a word you have been saying for some time now.”
Ilea spoke in a low voice.
“Wait a moment. Your disposition will be decided soon.”
Parazael felt a strange sense of danger.
The atmosphere around Ilea had suddenly turned cold, pressing down on it with uncomfortable force.
Wariness filled Nedval’s eyes.
Just as Nedval was about to say something, the reception room door opened.
Johan was there. He was perfectly unharmed and not restrained.
Nedval was somewhat taken aback.
“...How did you get here on your own two feet?”
Nedval had clearly ordered their subordinates to capture Johan.
Yet none of them were in sight.
Only Johan and an unfamiliar man had arrived at the reception room.
Sword Demon Hakain spoke with a languid expression.
“Viscount Usman, let me introduce myself again. I am Hakain. People call me the Sword Demon.”
Nedval only stared blankly at Hakain.
Parazael had never heard the name Hakain.
It was a demon that had lived across the narrow strait, so it knew nothing of the continent’s famous figures.
Ilea gave a quiet laugh.
“Sir Hakain, unfortunately, Nedval, no, Parazael, does not know your name. It came from across the narrow strait.”
Hakain scratched his head awkwardly.
“Oh, is that so? How embarrassing.”
Johan spoke.
“It came from across the narrow strait?”
Ilea nodded.
“Its name is Parazael. It is a demon that gnaws away at its target’s sense of self. Nedval Usman was Parazael’s host.”
Johan stared fixedly at Nedval.
“What does it want?”
“It says it crossed the narrow strait to meet the Thirteenth End.”
Johan gave a short laugh.
“I see roughly what is going on.”
“Are you considering accepting it?”
Johan crossed his arms and thought for a moment.
He began weighing the matter in his mind.
Nedval looked back and forth between Johan and Ilea.
It could not understand the current situation.
Were the Apostle, the Witch, and the Watcher of Narak all on the same side?
How?
Its thoughts grew tangled.
As it struggled in confusion, Johan spoke.
“You said your name was Parazael?”
Nedval spoke with a wary expression.
“...Yes.”
Johan stepped right before it.
“I am the Thirteenth Apostle of the End. Can you serve me?”
There had been a precedent in Zalkarin.
Even after learning Johan’s identity, Zalkarin had sworn loyalty to him.
Parazael could become another Zalkarin.
Nedval’s mouth slowly opened.
* * *
The Subjugation Force assembled to defeat Beris was composed of the continent’s strongest.
It included the Holy Kingdom’s Grand Holy Knight Order, the Grand Assembly of Holy Magic, an alliance of high-ranking Holy Mages, and the Twelve Sacred Radiances, the Great Saint Church’s punitive force.
The North’s elite reconnaissance unit, renowned demon hunters from across the continent, and the highest-ranking adventurer guilds had also joined the Subjugation Force.
Some of them were actual Transcendents.
Each was a leading figure of the age, but there was only one protagonist today.
Countless eyes were drawn to red-haired Shaperia, the knight of House Myatro.
Everyone worked tirelessly just to exchange a few words with her.
Even while marching, the attention never stopped.
Azbal, the Third Seat of the Twelve Sacred Radiances, sidled up to Shaperia.
“That’s truly amazin’, ma’am. You’re a hero who’ll go down in history, ma’am.”
Shaperia had judged an Apostle alone.
She had brought an end to the Twelfth End.
One path toward the world’s destruction had vanished.
She truly was a hero.
Shaperia answered as politely as possible.
“It was all thanks to my lord. Without him, I would not be who I am today.”
She gave everyone the same answer.
As if it were only natural, she always humbled herself.
That made her seem all the more noble.
The esteem people held for Shaperia continued to rise.
Azbal let out an admiring sound.
“Just as the rumors say, you’re a paragon among knights. I’ve been greatly inspired, ma’am. With your courage and spirit as my strength, I’ll be sure to judge the Thirteenth End myself, ma’am.”
Mapheltan was the only End still standing.
Azbal had encountered Mapheltan in the Royal Capital before.
That day, Azbal had not faced Mapheltan with his full strength.
He had merely tested the waters to gauge his opponent’s ability.
In the end, Mapheltan had escaped.
Azbal regretted it.
When he had the chance, he should have killed Mapheltan in a single blow.
If they met again, he would never repeat the same mistake.
Like Shaperia, he would stake his life on judging the Apostle.
Azbal made that vow firmly.
A shadow crossed Shaperia’s face.
The moment Mapheltan’s name came up, she fell into troubled thought.
The words Beris had uttered just before dying continued to linger in her mind.
“Johan Myatro, the Watcher of Narak, is the Thirteenth End.”
At the time, Shaperia had dismissed it as nonsense Beris spouted to save themself.
She still thought the same.
Yet a tiny, almost imperceptible doubt remained.
‘...Beris, you were a demon until the very end.’
Demons were beings born to deceive humans.
Their whispers destroyed people.
Beris had remained true to their instincts until their dying moment.
Beris had planted a black seed in Shaperia’s heart.
She bit down on her lip.
“Damn it.”
Azbal spoke, somewhat flustered.
“O-of course, I’ll share the credit with you, ma’am. I never had the ability to subjugate an Apostle alone in the first place. Not a chance. Ha ha!”
It seemed he had misunderstood.
Shaperia lowered her head.
“I was suddenly caught up in other thoughts... I apologize, Sir Azbal.”
Azbal waved his hands.
“Not at all. You must have many worries. Aren’t heroes the sort who endlessly wrestle with their thoughts? Ha ha! I’ll stop bothering you and be on my way, then.”
He vanished as though fleeing.
Someone else approached her.
“Your expression is dark for such a happy day.”
This time, it was a familiar voice.
“Gaf?”
“It’s been a while... No, it hasn’t. I believe we met in the territory only a few days ago. Yet in that short time, you have become a hero. Could you not be a little happier?”
Shaperia shook her head.
“A hero? That is far too generous.”
Gaf quietly studied her expression before speaking.
“Is something troubling you?”
Shaperia’s thoughts were tangled in many ways.
She felt she might feel better after speaking with Gaf.
Their conversation just before she departed for Narak had helped her greatly.
Shaperia spoke carefully.
“It is not an important matter. I am only curious, so allow me to ask one question. What exactly is the relationship between Mapheltan, the Thirteenth End, and my lord?”
Gaf turned his head.
His gaze went to the distant mountains.
After being lost in thought for some time, Gaf slowly spoke.
“You would be better off asking the Baron directly.”
In the distance, Usman’s direct domain began to come into view.
A massive castle built atop a cliff stood before the Subjugation Force.
For some reason, the castle’s atmosphere was dark and ominous.
Perhaps it was only their imagination.
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