WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
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◈ Whispers of a Scheming Demon ◈
Chapter 68: Capital Assault (2)
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Arterium, the royal capital.
The black night sky was covered in deep blue Mana.
The Magic Formation spread across the sky burned brightly. Each stroke of the spell glowed, revealing an unnatural presence.
Most of the people below watched the strange phenomenon as though they were enjoying a festival.
Laughter and chatter echoed through the capital.
Their smiles did not last long.
“W-Wait a moment.”
“What is that sound?”
“Screaming...?”
A grating noise, like an iron plate being scraped, began to spread across the night sky. It was so unpleasant and ominous that people wanted to cover their ears.
It was a hideous cry that instinctively made humans shrink back.
“Someone, please make it stop!”
“Stop! I said stop!”
The crowd began to panic. Some clutched their heads and screamed, while others lost themselves in madness and ran through the streets.
More and more people were losing their reason.
Unfortunately, the torment did not end. Instead, the noise grew louder and closer.
“I don't want to hear it!”
“Save me! Please!”
Five hundred years of condensed grief and bitterness, more than an ordinary human could experience in a lifetime, covered the earth.
The hatred had become so intense that it could be felt against the skin.
Just as everyone began to lose their minds, the night sky split open.
A terrible scream shook heaven and earth.
Beings formed from lingering resentment revealed themselves.
They wailed as they poured down upon the capital.
It was as though the gates of hell had opened.
* * *
An emergency had been declared at the Divine Inquisition Bureau in the royal capital, the institution responsible for monitoring every kind of evil, including demons, heretics, and apostates.
A spatial transference formation had unfolded above the capital, summoning thousands of Evil Spirits that poured down toward the ground.
Fortunately, there had not yet been any casualties.
The Holy Barrier was incinerating every Evil Spirit that collided with it.
Countless Holy Soldiers, priests, and Holy Knights were also prepared for what would happen after the barrier was destroyed.
The capital's anti-demon defenses were extremely solid.
The situation was fairly manageable, but the Inquisition Bureau could not simply stand by and watch.
The royal capital of Arterium was home to the king and countless nobles.
They were the heart of the kingdom. If the defensive system were breached, the kingdom would lose its ability to function.
The nation itself could disappear.
If there was even the slightest possibility of danger to them, the Inquisition Bureau had to respond with everything it had.
Rohagen, the Archbishop who headed the capital's Divine Inquisition Bureau, ran outside the church and shouted.
“Focus only on defense until we understand the situation! Put all forces on standby and send a request for support to the royal palace!”
His assistant followed him outside and replied.
“It has already been done! The entire Palace Guard, excluding the Royal Knights, has assembled!”
Not only the Church's Holy Soldiers, but ordinary knights and royal guards had all been mobilized.
“What about the signal fire?”
“It has been lit! The Holy Kingdom will learn of the situation soon!”
Reinforcements would be sent to the capital from all across the continent.
Until they arrived, Director Rohagen intended to focus entirely on defense.
If he took unnecessary risks and something unexpected happened, it would be a disaster.
This was the first large-scale attack on humanity in two hundred years, so no one had much combat experience.
The right choice was to remain calm and follow the manual.
Rohagen nodded.
“Good. Then call an emergency meeting immediately and...”
Someone suddenly cut him off.
“Shouldn't we form a special unit first, sir?”
Rohagen turned around.
A man with narrow eyes and a white hood over his head was grinning.
“Azbal...?”
Azbal, Fourth Seat of the Twelve Sacred Insignia, belonged to the order known as the Twelve Sacred Radiances. He was one of the Great Saint Church's most formidable combatants.
“Affirmative, Director, sir. Azbal reporting.”
“What are you doing here?”
Most of the Twelve Sacred Insignia had been dispatched to the Holy Quarantine Zone in the southwest.
They had been sent to the location where the ancient demon and White Horn had appeared.
Azbal scratched his hood.
“I took a quick look and returned, sir. Whether White Horn had soared into the ground or sunk into the sky, there wasn't even the baek of Baekgak in sight, sir.”
The investigation into White Horn was still ongoing within the Holy Power Sealing Formation, but no clue had been found.
Unless White Horn had already escaped the Holy Power Sealing Formation, such a situation was difficult to explain.
In truth, it was more likely that White Horn had escaped the barrier.
That was what Azbal believed.
Rohagen sighed, looking as though he had a splitting headache.
“When will you stop doing whatever you please?”
Azbal grinned.
“Aren't you relieved I'm here, sir? Put me on it, and I'll at least find out what those things are, sir.”
He pointed toward the night sky.
Around the spatial transference formation that was spewing out Evil Spirits, there appeared to be roughly three black silhouettes.
They were probably the culprits behind this disaster.
It was difficult to identify them from here.
They were too far away, and the Holy Barrier was too dense.
To determine who they were, someone needed to get closer.
After thinking for a moment, Rohagen spoke.
“I cannot spare you any troops.”
“That’s fine. I can handle it alone, and too many people would probably just get in the way.”
It was not unfounded confidence.
Every member of the Twelve Sacred Insignia was a monster of truly overwhelming strength. Had they been born five hundred years ago, they would have been revered as Holy Heroes.
In fact, Rohagen felt relieved that Azbal had remained in the capital.
Rohagen nodded.
“Act at your own discretion. Report to me afterward.”
Azbal made a gesture of loyalty.
“Yessir! Your command! Saint Marziel!”
Rohagen shook his head and returned to the church.
It was time to begin the emergency meeting.
Left alone, Azbal looked up at the sky.
“Attacking the royal capital, are you? Just who are you bastards with the nerve to do this, sir?”
An interested smile lingered on his lips.
* * *
High above the royal capital, Mapheltan looked down and murmured.
“It is a little lacking.”
Countless Evil Spirits were pouring onto the ground without pause. The people were too busy screaming and fleeing in terror.
Their fear was a delicacy to demons.
It was a rather welcome sight, but there was one problem.
The quantity and quality of fear fell far short of his expectations.
The capital was simply too safe.
As long as the Holy Barrier remained, the people would not feel the threat of death.
They were only running in shock at the existence of Evil Spirits.
That level of fear could not satisfy Mapheltan.
Since he had come here while taking even a slight risk, Mapheltan needed a better reward.
He opened his mouth.
“Ilea, can you bring down that barrier? Even for a moment.”
The girl in a black hood sat atop her broom and replied.
“I’m sorry. I have almost no Mana left.”
She had pushed her body to its limits for several days in order to activate the spatial transference formation.
Spatial transference was such an advanced form of magic that even a Witch could not use it without paying a price.
Ilea was practically exhausted.
Mapheltan clicked his tongue.
“It can’t be helped.”
Just as he was about to give up, the Dark Elf standing on Ilea's broom spoke.
“If it is only for a moment, I can do it.”
“You can?”
They nodded.
“The barrier is weaker than it was five hundred years ago. Will about a minute be enough?”
The corner of Mapheltan's mouth rose.
“That will be enough. Thank you.”
“You do not need to thank me. The contract will proceed more easily if you grow stronger.”
A mass of black light began to condense in the Dark Elf's hand.
The ominous radiance soon took the shape of a bow.
It was a massive greatbow, larger than Mapheltan's body. It had to be an Abomination of at least the seventh rank.
The Dark Elf set a gigantic arrow against the string.
It looked as though they were about to fire a siege weapon.
Mapheltan let out a quiet exclamation of admiration.
At the same time, the arrow was released.
With a piercing sound that seemed to tear the air apart, black lightning fell toward the barrier.
Kraaaaaash!
With a dreadful explosion, the barrier split apart with a sharp crack!
Everyone on the ground stared in shock.
“N-No way!”
“The barrier is breaking!”
“Run!”
Another bolt of black lightning descended.
A moment later, the golden curtain covering the royal capital shattered like glass.
Pandemonium began.
Most people on the ground screamed as they ran. Others were so shocked that they could not move.
Evil Spirits were pouring down like rain.
Mapheltan's red eyes flashed with delight.
Pleasure washed over him like a wave.
To avoid losing his reason, Mapheltan repeatedly injured himself.
He was becoming somewhat used to this now.
‘...Fuck.’
Zalkarin and the other Evil Spirits surrendered themselves to pleasure.
The excited Elves let out dreadful cries.
Kieeeeeek!
Even as they were slaughtered by countless Holy spells and defensive systems, they could not hide their joy.
“Intercept them!”
“Do not let even one of them set foot in the capital!”
Black blood scattered through the air.
Torn and ruptured remains rained down upon the ground.
Everyone below was drenched in filthy scraps.
No demon survived to set foot in the capital, but the ground had already become a scene from hell.
Humans trampled one another and fell, creating a frenzy.
Mapheltan closed his eyes and reaffirmed his resolve.
‘Just don’t lose myself.’
He only needed to endure for one minute.
As he controlled his mind, Ilea tapped his arm.
Mapheltan opened his eyes. Before him was a huge white bird.
Someone sat cross-legged atop the bird.
It was a narrow-eyed man in a hood. His small eyes opened into thin slits.
“Could that be White Horn?”
Ilea spoke quietly.
“Mapheltan, that one seems a little dangerous.”
Mapheltan felt the same way.
An overwhelmingly dangerous aura flowed from the man.
The Holy Power surrounding him was dazzlingly brilliant, and his smiling expression was utterly relaxed.
The Dark Elf narrowed their eyes.
“So such aberrations still exist, even after five hundred years.”
Among humans, Irregulars like the man before them were occasionally born. Heroes chosen by the Moon.
Humanity had been able to survive because of them.
The man grinned.
“What're you whispering about, sir? More importantly, are you really White Horn, sir?”
The reported description was almost exactly the same.
The being that should have been inside the Holy Power Sealing Formation had appeared above the royal capital.
Mapheltan spoke calmly.
“I am. But mortal, what is your name?”
The man began clapping.
“Just as I figured, sir. Azbal reporting.”
It was exactly as Mapheltan had suspected.
Flesh-Shredder Azbal. One of the Twelve Sacred Insignia, and an important character in Inmarok.
Because of the Sacred Beast Azbal was riding, Mapheltan had immediately deduced his identity.
A smile appeared on Mapheltan's face.
He had met his favorite character from Inmarok.
Mapheltan was a fan of Azbal himself.
He spoke.
“Azbal, I would like to have a conversation with you.”
Azbal waved a hand.
“Demons don't do that, sir. White Horn dies here.”
At the same time, he brought a hand to his mouth.
His esophagus began to writhe.
A moment later, a massive saw burst from his mouth.
Mapheltan watched with an interested expression.
“Oh. So it is Vizard.”
Azbal grinned.
“Affirmative, sir. You'll be cut in half with this.”
The Dark Elf immediately fired an arrow.
Azbal vanished.
A relaxed voice came from above Mapheltan's head.
“No interest in lackeys, sir. I'll kill the leader first.”
A grotesque sawblade descended toward Mapheltan's head.
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