Having reduced Tamuri to a tattered rag until he finally lost consciousness, I tossed him onto the stone floor.
Naturally, I had pummeled him relentlessly without giving him the slightest opening to resist. Going any further would put his life at risk. He was a vile criminal who had attempted to commit the ultimate taboo against Deimos and the others—the murder of the Supreme One. Emotionally, killing him a hundred times over wouldn't feel like enough, but Tamuri was an essential sacrifice for this plan. I couldn't afford to let him die over something like this.
"Are you an undead who mastered martial arts back when you were human?"
Knitting his brows, Tokotsu threw out such a ridiculous question.
"No. Martial arts are something I acquired after attaining this undead body."
Having been forced to train in that utterly insane realm where the flow of time was drastically slow, the period I had spent training in martial arts already far surpassed the time I had desperately spent studying magic as a mortal.
It was almost comically absurd. Even though I had become an undead to pursue the pinnacle of magic, in reality, I had undergone dizzying eons of brutal combat training—including martial arts—at the hands of the Transcenders. By now, such a vague goal as pursuing the ultimate magic, something a young boy might dream of, hardly mattered anymore. After all, the Transcenders could bring about the very miracles that magic was supposedly meant to reach with effortless ease. The divine protection Deimos himself had received belonged to that apex. In other words, what Deimos had once believed to be the ultimate peak of magic was merely a single, minor phenomenon.
"Bullshit! Magic aside, where in the world would you find an idiot who learns martial arts after becoming an undead?!"
"Right here."
It was largely forced upon me, and it was a literal living hell. Once you experience that, you stop caring about most things. On top of that, that camp had only ended for the residents of the Wind Cats. For the likes of Deimos, Titan, Lucas, and Oboro, that was where the real ordeal had actually begun.
"Hah! That's a lie. Undeadification while keeping human consciousness continuous is the ultimate secret of us necromancers. There's no way a non-mage like you could do it. I'll ask you again. Who turned you?"
"I did it myself."
Soul-retaining undeadification was indeed regarded as the ultimate secret of necromancers. Yet even Deimos, who wasn't a necromancer, had managed it. In truth, it was nothing special. At the very least, compared to the miracles wrought by those Great Ones, it didn't even amount to child's play.
"Well, fine. I can just take my time interrogating you later anyway."
Licking his lips, Tokotsu glanced back at the high ogre undead lingering behind him.
"Restrain this skeleton."
He gave the order with an easy, confident expression.
At Tokotsu's command, the high ogre began to move, letting out a beast-like growl.
To murder an ogre who had been living quietly with its family by taking its daughter hostage, and then turn it into an undead... The Deimos of the past would have dismissed such a fact as a triviality, entirely unmoved.
However, now—
"You truly sicken me."
Words of intense disgust squeezed out from my mouth. Deimos was well aware he had no right to condemn a fool like Tokotsu. Even so, what was unforgivable remained unforgivable.
I truly thought of myself as selfish and willful. Yet, for some reason, in this moment, I felt I could forgive myself just a little for being that way.
"Heh-heh! A high ogre is strong! No matter how good your sword skills are—"
Completely ignoring Tokotsu as he bragged triumphantly, I aimed my right palm at the high ogre charging forward at a strangely sluggish pace.
"Flame Parasol."
I wove the words of power. In an instant, black flames manifested above the high ogre's head. Spreading into a hemisphere, they enveloped the high ogre's entire body. Instantly, various parts of its flesh boiled violently and crumbled away.
Even as its entire body burned in the black flames, the high ogre spoke:
"Thank... you..."
It uttered those words of gratitude, and in the next moment, it turned to ash.
(Do not thank me! In the end, I could do nothing for you!)
At the bitter aftertaste welling up from deep within my chest, I gritted my skeletal teeth.
Tokotsu had stood frozen, eyes wide as he stared at the high ogre that had been reduced to ash, but soon, sweating profusely, he raised his voice.
"Wh-What the hell did you just do?!"
"Do you really expect me, your enemy, to answer honestly?"
In response to Deimos's question, which carried a hint of exasperation—
"Then I'll just make you talk whether you like it or not!"
With veins bulging across his shaved head, Tokotsu began an incantation.
That was the ancient tongue. Judging by the composition, it was necromancy. In fact, it was that spell I had used to death in the past.
Namely, a large-scale medium-tier undead formation spell, quite useful for wiping out small fry. However, this spell had the flaw of a long chant. In the first place, it was a diversionary magic meant to be cast while hidden to wait for an opening. Its compatibility with individual combat was the absolute worst. Something like this—
"Cancel."
For the current Deimos, jamming it was as simple as blowing out a fire on a small twig.
The spell Tokotsu was in the middle of activating shattered.
"Huh?"
To Tokotsu, who let out a bewildered sound, I said:
"If you boast of having transcended humanity, show me you can at least discard the chant for a spell of that level."
When I raised my right hand, several intricate magic circles floated into the air, shifting and evolving. Then, ten armored skeletons surged forth from the multiple magic circles on the ground.
"Th-This is my Undead Knight Summoning? No—it's not! It's completely different! What is this magic?! I've never seen anything like this!"
"What I used was Undead Knight Summoning."
This was unmistakably Undead Knight Summoning. However, it was merely the effect of the divine protection Deimos had gained—the Pinnacle of Magic—multiplying the spell's potency dozens of times over. In fact, the strength of the summoned skeletons was easily on par with what this world called heroes, and they were all equipped with magical weapons. At the very least, there was no way they would fall behind the likes of Tokotsu.
"I don't know it! I don't know any magic like this! Weren't you a former swordsman?!"
Turning pale as a sheet, Tokotsu backed away while shouting at the top of his lungs.
"Who said that? My original name was Star Raneige. I was once a full-fledged mage."
Memories I was supposed to have cast aside were only now returning in vivid detail. According to Lord Girimehkala, such an effect did not come from becoming his kin. After all, none of his other kin possessed such an effect. It was likely a boost resulting from officially entering the domain of that Supreme One and deepening the connection with him.
(How ironic...)
As the memories from when I possessed that youthful fervor grew clearer, I realized that Deimos had long lost sight of his original purpose. It might already be too late. But to the current Deimos, it was becoming his final bastion.
"Star... Raneige? Don't screw with me! The One-Eyed Mage! Isn't that the name of the strongest mage of the past?!"
"There was indeed a time like that."
Looking back on it now, claiming to be the strongest was utterly conceited, no matter how you looked at it. It made me feel an illusion of itching on the skin I once had.
"Then I'll blow away every single uncertain element with my trump card!"
Tokotsu glared at Deimos with dead eyes as he declared this, then shouted toward the outside of the building:
"Hey! Dragon zombie! I'll give you the mana of the knight lying right there! Kill these bastards!"
He barked the order at the top of his lungs. However, no answer came. The countless presences that should have been outside had vanished before anyone realized it. Deimos, too, could see how things had played out.
Dragon zombies—the collective term for the undead form of dragons, one of the strongest species in this world. Intelligent, and moreover, immortal. A powerhouse that the Deimos of the past would have struggled against. Yet what was outside right now was a terrifying sweeper who, while possessing a mortal body, had obtained power that would send even dragons running for their lives.
"What are you doing?! Hurry up and take them down!"
The one who answered Tokotsu's panic-laden voice was—
"No one will come, no matter how much you call."
A black-haired swordsman entered through the doorway, dragging something massive in his right hand.
"Skull! This guy is bad news! Team up with me and let's get... out of..."
Tokotsu's shouting voice gradually trailed off. It was only natural. What the black-haired swordsman gripped in his right hand was the massive, goo-like, melted head of a dragon.
"Good grief, there were quite a few of them, so it took a little bit of time."
Lightly tossing aside the melted dragon head, the black-haired swordsman cracked his neck and muttered to himself.
Staring at the dragon head that landed and sank heavily into the stone floor, Tokotsu moved his mouth like a fish out of water, managing to squeeze out:
"Im... possible..."
"Deimos, now that you have made your move, the plan has been forced to change. There is no longer any need for us to operate behind the scenes. Well, I suppose this, too, falls well within that Great One's expectations."
"Likely so."
Indeed. Most likely, that Great One was testing us. Testing whether Deimos and the others could act according to their own convictions. I believe that had we abandoned those youths as they were, Deimos and the rest would have lost that Great One's trust.
"Skull, you... why?"
At Tokotsu's bewildered question, Lucas curled the corners of his mouth into a grin, shifting his appearance back into that of an elderly gentleman.
"You bastard..."
Finally realizing he had been played for a fool, Tokotsu squeezed out his voice with a bitter expression.
"I am Lucas. A loyal retainer to a certain great personage. Please, do remember the name."
Lucas offered a light, theatrical bow. It truly felt as though the current Lucas could no longer be called human in every sense of the word.
"What happened to the rest of the undead?!"
Tokotsu sprayed spit as he screamed in sheer panic.
"Why, I killed them, of course. Ah, though since they were undead, perhaps returning them to the earth would be more accurate."
Without losing his smile, Lucas replied.
"Liar!"
As Tokotsu bolted out of the building, Deimos ordered the summoned skeletal knights to protect Lady Laila and the injured youth, Somni, before heading outside.
"Heheheh, it's a dream... There's no way this is real..."
Falling to his knees on the ground before the mountain of corpses surrounding the building, Tokotsu was laughing through his tears.
It seemed this was the end. Tokotsu no longer had any will to fight. All that remained was to leave this man to Lucas and deliver Lady Laila to the Great One.
"Deimos!"
A stark contrast to his composure from just moments ago, Lucas called Deimos's name with a tense, sharp expression.
In an instant, several streaks of red light flashed. I blocked them with a barrier erected on reflex. Lucas, too, swatted them away with his right hand as if brushing off a fly.
Then, one of those vermilion lights instantly vaporized Tokotsu's head. His headless torso collapsed with a thud onto the ground.
Beyond those red lights stood an aberration with a melted head, a square face, black clothing, and a black hat, wriggling and contorting its body in a bizarre dance.