The black-haired boy manifested what looked like a small bottle from his pocket and sprinkled its contents over Ket. As if time itself were rewinding, Ket's wounds vanished.
"Ket!"
I rushed over to check on him as he lay unconscious, but I couldn't find a single burn on him.
"..."
Ket was supposed to have been on the brink of death. Yet the moment that red liquid touched him, his injuries were healed in an instant. Could that possibly be a potion? No, even in the Heavenly Realm, potions were secret elixirs strictly controlled by the Heavenly Gods Alliance. There was no way one could exist here in Lemuria. If so, then what was that?
My mind was in utter turmoil. Unable to utter a single word, I watched as the black-haired boy turned his gaze toward Salama.
"—?!"
A single glance at the boy's freezing cold eyes fixed on Salama sent a piercing tremor running down my spine.
(Am I... trembling?)
It was a distinct sensation, as though an icicle were being pressed against my back—a crushing weight so terrifying it felt as if it would freeze my very soul. It was just like standing before a top-ranking commander of evil or heaven...
(Preposterous!)
No matter how I looked at him, he was human, and he didn't appear the least bit formidable. I reasoned that, as a consequence of losing my divine powers and being reduced to a mere mortal, my danger instincts had simply gone haywire.
Just as I reached that conclusion—
"What's this? You're from that trash academy too?! It doesn't matter how many pieces of garbage like you show up, it's useless—"
The young Elf, Torla, must have been certain of his victory. He smugly spouted off at the black-haired boy, but—
"Shut up for a second. I'll settle things with you later."
"Eep?!"
Silenced by nothing more than a sidelong glare, Torla let out a squeak and clamped his mouth shut. The sheer humiliation of being intimidated by a student from Ouboro Academy—the absolute bottom of the barrel—flushed his face red with rage.
"Salama, break him too!"
Spittle flew from his mouth as he barked orders at the salamander, Salama.
As if Torla's voice hadn't even registered, Salama was staring intently at the black-haired boy, observing him with absolute seriousness.
"Hey, Salama, are you listening to me?!"
When Torla yelled once more, Salama finally responded.
"You're so noisy. I get it. I just have to break him, right? Since he blew away my flames, I thought maybe he was one of us, but I don't feel any power from him at all. He really is just an ordinary human."
Salama nodded repeatedly as if satisfied, and in an instant, the tense atmosphere evaporated. Slipping back into a lazy demeanor, it let out a massive yawn and flicked its tail. In a flash, towering pillars of fire erupted, completely engulfing the black-haired boy.
Fixing Salama with a hawk-like glare, the black-haired boy spoke.
"Hey, fire lizard. You're unpleasant. Deeply unpleasant. It's rare for me to feel this disgusted. In that regard, you've done quite well."
He slowly closed the distance between them.
"So what if you're disgusted?"
Salama opened its massive jaws. Sparks crackled from its mouth, and a fireball formed within its throat.
"I'll deal with you using my own methods."
With those words, the pillars of fire surrounding the boy were blown away in an instant, and his figure vanished from sight.
"Huh?"
Salama let out a dumbfounded noise and looked around frantically, searching for the black-haired boy, but—
"Gwah?!"
Suddenly, the boy appeared overhead and brought his foot crashing down on Salama's head. The fireball inside its maw detonated, and black smoke billowed from Salama's massive, crocodile-like jaws.
"You were planning to roast that woman's legs before burning her face, weren't you?"
Stepping down hard on Salama's head, the black-haired boy smiled for the first time as he spoke. The corners of his mouth curled upward to an unnatural degree, forming an eerie, unsettling grin. He looked just like an officer of the Evil Army—the very monsters we harbored so much hatred and dread for. An intense, paralyzing chill seized me, impossible to resist.
"Y-You...?"
The moment Salama let out a frantic cry of bewilderment, the boy hooked his toe underneath it and kicked it straight into the air.
"Gigehehhheee—!"
Salama was launched vertically at terrifying speed. Then, succumbing to gravity, it plummeted back down toward the black-haired boy. Just before it crashed into him, countless streaks of light flashed across Salama's body.
An instant later, the black-haired boy seized Salama's thick neck with his right hand, lifting it effortlessly. The bones in Salama's arms and legs were shattered at their joints, its flesh crushed into a mangled pulp.
"GUGYAAAAHHH---!"
Salama unleashed an ear-splitting shriek.
"Now then. Your arms and legs are crushed, leaving you unable to move. If I remember your style correctly, you slowly burn the face of an opponent who can't fight back, right?"
Looking up at it, he delivered lines worthy of a demon in a low, chilling voice.
Its lizard face contorting in agony from the excruciating pain, Salama rasped,
"W-W-Whyyyy--?!"
"Hm?"
"Why aren't you burning from my flames---?!"
Salama desperately asked the exact question that had been running through my own mind.
"Who knows? Do you really think I'd give a kind, polite answer to someone as thoroughly revolting and insignificant as you?"
With that dismissive retort, the black-haired boy tossed Salama into the air and shifted his grip to the back of its head.
"S-Sto—"
"No. Not a chance. Call it karma. You went too far."
Without paying the slightest heed to its pleas for mercy, the black-haired boy began slamming Salama's head repeatedly into the ground.