Meteorites rained down with the density of a torrential downpour.
Each stone was warded with magical protections, ensuring they could not be easily destroyed. This was almost certainly Barulk’s handiwork, and yet, it was not a spell he had cast himself. As a specialist in curse magic, Barulk was generally inept at offensive magic. A Great Magic spell capable of detonating a cluster of meteorites should have been far beyond his capabilities.
This has reached the realm of Forbidden Magic, I realized.
I had already identified the caster. The magic power reaction I had sensed while in the Republic’s capital was undoubtedly the source. In truth, I wanted to head there immediately to deal with them, but the meteorites demanded my attention first. At this rate, the Royal Capital would be reduced to rubble in an instant. That was a scenario I had to avoid at all costs.
I stared intently at the falling stones, completing my analysis in a heartbeat. I confirmed the flow and lineage of the magic power. With the structure understood, my own spells would take hold more effectively.
I released a gravity wave upward, bleeding the momentum from the descending mass. Their falling speed slowed, if only slightly. It was a marginal difference; the magic resistance woven into the meteorites made it difficult for gravity to exert its full influence.
He truly intends to crush the Royal Capital, I thought.
Maintaining the gravity wave, I invoked my next spell. With a sharp sweep of my hand, I manifested a forest of Miasma Spears before me. Thirty thousand in all. Every single one possessed enough power to level a fortress. This was not a spell for a single opponent; it was a spell designed to erase armies.
I launched the wall of Miasma Spears. Accelerated by the gravity wave, the spears closed the distance and struck the meteorites with a thunderous roar. The piercing tips sent cracks spiderwebbing across the stone surfaces, allowing the following spears to wedge themselves deep inside before detonating. They bored into the meteorites, shattering them one after another.
No matter how much resistance they possessed, the enemy likely hadn't anticipated this much destructive force. Before long, the bulk of the meteorites had been pulverized, reduced to a harmless rain of pebbles.
The damage has been mitigated, but it isn't enough.
I followed up immediately with another technique. The Miasma Spears dancing in the air lost their rigid forms and diffused into amorphous vines. They lashed out, entangling the remaining fragments and pulling them together. Wherever the vines touched the stone, the meteorite fragments began to melt.
To finish the job, I unleashed ten consecutive fire forbidden spells. Raging jet-black hellfire blanketed the sky, incinerating the meteorites caught in the vines. The synergistic effect of the scorching heat and the miasma annihilated everything in its path.
When the flames finally dissipated, a cloudless blue sky stretched out overhead. Not a shadow of the meteorites remained. For the moment, the crisis had been averted.
At that exact second, I sensed a flash of killing intent from far in the distance. I whirled around, drawing my sword in a single, fluid motion.
This is…
My slash cut a small, incoming object perfectly in two. I watched the fragments fall to the ground. The projectile that had targeted my blind spot was a shard of ice no larger than a pea, yet it was saturated with an enormous amount of curse magic. It appeared to have been fired at high velocity from a great distance—a magical recreation of a sniper’s bullet.
The meteorites were a diversion, and that shot was the true killing blow…
While half-impressed by the calculated nature of the assault, I teleported to the sniping point. It was a location a considerable distance from the Royal Capital, set in the middle of a serene grassland.
Standing before me was a man I didn't recognize. He had well-groomed blond hair, emerald eyes, and wore the stylish attire of a human aristocrat. Despite his refined appearance, a foul smirk twisted his features. The malice radiating from him was no longer human.
—The soul does not match the vessel.
I could sense a clear discordance between the spirit and the flesh. He wasn't being manipulated by strings; his body had been hijacked entirely. There was something familiar about the inscrutable atmosphere the man projected. Having spoken with him only moments ago, I was certain.
"You’re Barulk, aren't you?"
When I asked, the man’s face lit up with delight. He grinned as if he had been waiting for this exact moment.
"Exactly. Since a certain someone broke my old body, I had to borrow this one. Honestly, it’s incredibly inconvenient, really."
Barulk lamented with theatrical woe. Even as he spat words of blame at me, that repulsive smile remained fixed on his lips. Barulk had never been a man who cared much for his physical form. There was no telling how much of his complaint was genuine. Judging by the sheer volume of magic power he contained, he was at the same level he had been ten years ago. In reality, the change of body likely didn't bother him at all.
Barulk turned his gaze toward the Royal Capital. Seeing it standing unscathed, he snorted in displeasure.
"I didn't think you would completely neutralize a forbidden spell of that scale. I hate to admit it, but you truly do possess power worthy of the title of Demon King."
Barulk pressed a hand to his face and began to stagger, laughing hysterically. It was a hollow, broken sound, like a malfunctioning doll. He began to speak in a rapid-fire blur.
"…Haha, you were always like this. You’ve always ruined the plans I worked so hard to weave at the most crucial moments. You are always, always in my way. Even now, I want to kill you—I want to kill you, I want to kill you, I want to kill you so badly I can't stand it!"
Barulk’s eye peered at me through the gaps in his fingers. His unblinking gaze was alight with a burning, violent hatred. Tears of blood tracked down his cheeks. This wasn't an act. These were Barulk’s raw, unadulterated emotions.
"Why do you keep ruining everything…? We’re so close. Stop this boorish interference…"
"I don't care about your reasons," I replied flatly. "I will simply fulfill my own objectives."
I watched his movements carefully. Even while in the throes of an emotional explosion, he left no openings. If I launched a reckless attack, I would likely be met with a devastating counter-curse. Some curses were irreparable. While I might be able to repel them easily now that I was the Demon King, I couldn't ignore the possibility of a worst-case scenario. I could not afford to underestimate Barulk. Caution was my only option.
"Aah, you were exactly like this ten years ago… You are the greatest natural enemy of my life. You are far more troublesome than any Hero. And by becoming the Demon King, you’ve learned the ruthlessness of a true villain. I hate you… I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"
Barulk screamed, clawing at his scalp. His breathing was ragged and frantic. Blood seeped from his fingertips where the nails had been torn away. After a brief, violent tantrum, he suddenly snapped back to his senses.
He smoothed down his hair and wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve. His nails had already regenerated. Barulk let out a long breath and gave a calm, self-deprecating chuckle.
"—Forgive me. I lost my composure. Facing a fated rival seems to have made me a bit over-excited."
With that, Barulk reached into his coat. He pulled out a severed demi-human arm. It had grey skin and was dotted with indigo scales that shimmered brilliantly in the sunlight.
"Now then, Dwight. Do you recognize this?"
"……"
I remained silent. I was already certain of its identity. The magic power radiating from the limb was staggering—it was the same reaction I had sensed in the Republic’s capital. Dropping those meteorites had almost certainly been the work of this arm.
Seeing my silence, Barulk shrugged with practiced theatricality. He stroked the arm affectionately, then spoke the words I had anticipated.
"Don't want to answer? Fine, I’ll say it for you. This is the right arm of that great personage—the Demon King himself."