Chapter 189: The Dead Sage of Destruction
"So you're saying that the demons can't even use the full power of the sword?"
"That's right. At most, they can only get a small, temporary buff, like this guy. And even that has its side effects."
"A temporary buff?"
"Yes. It makes you three times stronger."
"But he was more than three times stronger," Serie said, and pointed to Grausam. She could tell he wasn't a combat mage. And from the dazed look on the emperor's face, he was a mental mage. But even so, with the power of faith, he had been able to repel her attack. The power was truly terrifying.
"But the consequences are also severe, aren't they? And isn't it funny? After all that planning, all that sacrifice... all they got was a slightly more durable holy sword. They may have corrupted its shell, may have even stolen its form, and can now use the power that leaks from it. But they can never touch its core, can never truly wield the torrent of faith that has been accumulating for a thousand years."
The thread of light in his palm flickered, as if in confirmation of his words.
She finally understood. The sword they had stolen was just a shell, a weapon with a very specific activation condition, a condition they could never hope to meet.
"So, you let him..." she said, a complex emotion in her voice.
"I did it on purpose. It's a way to follow the vine to the melon, to find their new Demon King, and... to find a few things out."
They had not bothered to hide their conversation from him, and as Rhodes had laid out his plan, a new, dark and terrible look had come over his face. He didn't have to hide it. The demon's time was up.
"And besides," he said, "Shurahat has already escaped from me twice. Third time's the charm. Let's see him try to run now."
He then walked over to the demon, each step a hammer blow to his own heart. He knelt and, ignoring his terrified gaze, he looked down at his broken and mangled body. "And... I'm curious," his voice was now a low and probing sound, "in the corruption of the 'Light of Ersten', I felt a very familiar power. A power that was both foul and holy, a contradictory feeling, a feeling that reminded me of... a being that should have long since been gone. You said you found a remnant of the first Demon King's power, didn't you? That power... it wasn't the last remnant of the goddess, was it?" He was asking the demon, but he was also telling her.
"The goddess?" she said with a frown.
Flamme gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with disbelief.
The demon on the floor, listening to his calm words, at his all-knowing gaze, he felt a chill that was colder than death. He knew... he had known all along. To have let him take the sword... it had all been a part of his plan. And he had even sensed the last of the goddess's power. How? Who... who was this man?
"Who... who are you!?" he cried out with his last ounce of strength. "How do you know so much!?" Even they, the demons, had taken decades to figure out the source of that power. And this man... he had known it at a glance.
"Me?" he said, and looked at the demon's broken and defeated form. "I'm just... an old friend who is very interested in your new toy." He then changed the subject. "But I'm more interested in how you were able to withstand the power of faith. Tell me, Grausam, what method did Shurahat use to allow you to temporarily bear that power? Was it a spell? Or some kind of physical modification? Or was it... an item?"
The demon's eyes widened. He wants to know even that? It was a core secret of the demons, a technique Shurahat had been researching for years.
"Kill me! I'll tell you nothing! The Demon King will avenge me! You will all—" His words were cut short.
A finger, wreathed in light, and a thousand tiny light arrows shot into his mind, into the very depths of his consciousness.
"Eeaarrgghh!!!"
The pain was beyond anything physical, a direct assault on his very soul, and his body began to convulse violently.
"Tell me," he said, his voice a low and quiet sound, "what method did you use?"
"No... no..." His consciousness was beginning to crumble, but his demonic instincts were still fighting back.
His finger pressed down a little harder.
And he broke. "A fragment," he said, his voice a robotic and empty sound. "Lord Shurahat found something at the ruins of the first Demon King's castle. He... he used a spell to... to merge a small part of it with me. And it... it allowed me to bear the power of faith."
He frowned. The method was a dangerous one, a thing he himself had never dared to try. But Shurahat... he had done it. If that's the case, he thought, could I use this spell... to rewrite the very formula of life?
"Is that all? Is there a complete spell?" he asked, his finger now pressing even harder.
"No! Only... only Lord Shurahat knows... the full spell."
Seeing that there was no more information to be had, he retracted his hand.
The demon collapsed, a twitching and gasping mess on the floor. His grievously wounded body was now on the verge of death.
He stood and looked at Serie, and gave a slight nod. "Now," he said, "you can kill him."
It was a final release.
And with a rage she had held in check for far too long, she struck.
A single, condensed spear of light shot forward, and in the demon's last moments, the light of it was the last thing he saw.
Thump.
It pierced his head, and his body fell back, and all life left him.
And so, Grausam, one of the Seven Sages of Destruction, was dead.
(End of chapter)
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