Chapter 186: Stalling for Time
As he spoke, the dead silence was broken. Grausam tore his gaze from Serie and fixed it on him. In his eyes, this black-haired, black-eyed man had none of Serie's sharp, terrifying magical aura. He was... quiet. But when his gaze swept over him, he felt as if all his disguises had been stripped away, as if his very demonic essence was laid bare. A primal sense of a great and terrible danger washed over him.
Who was this man?
He had heard from Shurahat that, two hundred years ago, there had been a human swordsman of immense power at Serie's side. But he had shared his master's view. Two hundred years had passed. The human was long dead. And he had never seen him before, so he had not made the connection.
Serie's cold killing intent, and the terrifying aura of the mysterious man... he knew, in that moment, that if they were to act, he would be turned to dust in the next second.
No. Not yet.
The corrosion was at its final stage. He could feel the core of the holy sword being consumed by the goddess's power. Just a little more time...
He chose to stall. He suppressed his own demonic aura and forced a smile, a smile that was meant to be friendly. "Lady Serie, I have long heard of your name. It is an honor to meet you here. I am Grausam," he said, and his gaze flickered between her and him. In the end, out of a primal reverence for her legendary reputation, he had chosen to address her. "I believe there has been some... misunderstanding..."
But it was the other one who answered. "A misunderstanding?" his voice was tinged with a subtle amusement. He looked at the holy sword, at its now-twisted, vine-like corruption, and then at his own face, which was a mask of a forced calm. "To dare to defile a holy sword... that's quite a 'misunderstanding'."
What were these demons thinking? To dare to come after the 'Light of Ersten'? It was a vessel for the power of faith, the power of a god. Ordinary magic could not possibly affect it. And though the two powers were now in a fierce struggle, he had faith in his sword. As long as it was not a power of the same level, it could not possibly lose. But... there was a strange familiarity to the twisted, dark matter on its surface. "Tell me," he said, "what kind of magic are you using? And if you tell me, and if I'm in a good mood, I might just leave you a whole corpse."
"You jest, my lord. A demon's body just dissolves after death. There is no 'corpse'," he said.
"That's right. Because you have long since lost the favor of a god. You are the only race in this world without a divine patron. And so, in death, you turn to dust."
A new wave of shock washed over him. Who is this man!?
The fact that the demons had lost their god's favor... it was no great secret. In the Age of Myth, their bodies had remained after death. It was only after the god-slayer had killed their god that they had begun to turn to dust. But... why did his voice... have a hint of nostalgia? As if he had been there, had seen it with his own eyes? As a master of mental magic, he was keenly attuned to such things. And the emotion in his voice... it was real.
And his gaze, so calm, so serene... it was even more terrifying than Serie's own. Her power was a destructive, open flame. But his... his was a quiet and unknown terror.
But he had no time to ponder his identity. He saw him, saw his finger, a finger that was now slightly raised, and every hair on his body stood on end. He was about to act.
"Wait!" he said quickly. "I have information, about Lord Shurahat, and about our new Demon King. I am sure it will be of interest to you."
He was betting, betting that this mysterious and powerful man would be interested in the words 'Demon King'. The first Demon King had been slain a thousand years ago, and since then, the demons had been a fractured and leaderless race. A new Demon King... it was news that would shake the very foundations of the continent.
His finger paused.
"A Demon King?" he said with a frown. "You demons... have a new Demon King?"
He did not know when the Demon King from the original story had been born, so he had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth. Let's see what he has to say.
Grausam could feel the pressure on him ease a little, and a wave of a triumphant relief washed over him. His gamble had paid off.
"Yes," he said, and launched into a long and detailed explanation, a story that would buy him the time he needed. "Lord Shurahat found a remnant of the first Demon King's own essence, at the site of his old castle. And with it, we have found the perfect successor, a being of an unparalleled talent and power. And he is now... our new Demon King."
He was telling the truth, of course. Only the truth would be convincing enough. And it didn't matter if they knew. The rise of the Demon King was now a fact of life, an irreversible destiny.
He talked, and at the same time, out of the corner of his eye, he watched the holy sword. Just a little more time... in the unseen depths of the sword, its core was now being consumed, its light now a pale and sickly purple-black. And the mournful cry of its blade was growing fainter, replaced by the writhing of the black tentacles that now covered its surface.
He saw it, but for some reason, he did not act. He just listened, his expression unchanged, as if he were listening to a boring and unimportant story.
And his silence... to Grausam, it was the best response.
Time. That was all he needed.
"And so, Lady Serie, and you, my lord... the situation on the continent is about to change..."
But his words were cut short.
A loud, booming sound erupted from the holy sword.
VMM!!!
All of the black, twisted matter that had been wrapped around the sword and its pedestal now receded, and was then sucked into the sword itself.
And the 'Light of Ersten'... had changed.
(End of chapter)
~~~
Get early access to 20+ advanced chapters on Patreon!
https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Hollowborn
~~~
Every 150 Power Stones = 1 extra chapter