Chapter 437: The Fake (2)

Frankly speaking, it was impossible to justify a demon with a rank below fifty in the current hierarchy of Helmuth.

In plain words, the ranks were completely inflated.

The original top one-hundred-ranking demons of the hierarchy had been summoned to Babel one year ago, and after a fierce battle sanctioned by the royal decree of the Demon King of Incarceration, only fifty survived. Those survivors received a boost of dark power directly from the Demon King of Incarceration. They had been empowered without even making a contract with the Demon King of Incarceration. Naturally, the demons who survived that day in Babel had become incomparably stronger than before.

At that time, Harpeuron had been ranked one-hundred-and-tenth among the demons. He had not even been summoned to Babel. Yet, he wasn’t content with his rank. The hierarchy battles between demons also became simplified after that day, and Harpeuron steadily climbed up the ranks.

After fifty of the hundred demons perished, Harpeuron managed to ascend to the fifty-seventh rank through battle. However, he wasn’t satisfied with his achievements. Given a bit more time, he believed he could climb even higher and possibly break into the top fifty.

The dark power of the Demon King of Incarceration could not be used in the hierarchy battles. If he was careful in choosing the right opponents to fight, he believed it was possible for him to climb higher and higher in the demon rankings.

But now, there was no need to be obsessed with the hierarchy battles. If a war really did take place in the desert — as had happened centuries ago — he could grow stronger by feeding on the blood and fear of humans.

Whether Amelia Merwin would indeed conduct the ritual of ascension of the Demon King as promised was uncertain, but the blood and screams of war had always been nourishment for demons.

‘It’s impossible,’ Harpeuron thought in disbelief.

He had not received the summoning of the Demon King of Incarceration. Without the massacre at Babel, his rank would have been, at best, one-hundred-and-seventh. He hadn’t yet had the chance to relish in blood and fear. He hadn’t even met Amelia Merwin. All of these were facts.

Even so, this was unbelievable. An Eighth Circle Archwizard, by human standards, was indeed a formidable opponent. Harpeuron knew he couldn’t dismiss such a foe. But despite knowing she was a formidable foe and taking necessary precautions… he found that things weren’t going as planned in his encounter.

Melkith El-Hayah possessed a strange, different kind of magic. She possessed a dark power unlike that of demons, something even demons who had lived through the era of war couldn’t defy.

Her behavior was so frivolous and vulgar that it was hard to believe she was an Archwizard. Upon meeting him, she had trembled with fear, dripped with sweat, and wore a cowardly smile before… running away with a noisy, disgraceful scream.

It was hard to take her seriously. In fact, Harpeuron found it quite difficult to maintain his perception of her as a “formidable opponent.” Melkith’s words, actions, and attitude appeared so genuine that it was hard to believe it was just an act.

“Thunderbolt Kick!”

Even now, Melkith’s behavior was utterly disgraceful and ugly. She screamed shrilly as she yelled the childish names of her techniques. Her arms and legs flailed awkwardly as she shouted.

But the power that accompanied the ridiculous cries and clumsy movements was terrifyingly potent.

It was unbelievable.

Her efforts at imitating what was supposed to be a kick was pathetic. It seemed like an attack that even a fly could avoid, but the accompanying lightning and flames were powerful enough to shatter Harpeuron’s body, burn it, and reduce it to ashes.

“Heugh….” Harpeuron groaned as he cut a sorry figure.

Why had she run away when she possessed such immense power? Had it been a deliberate ploy?

Harpeuron recalled the expression on Melkith’s face and her screams as she attempted to flee earlier. It was truly impossible for him to even attempt to understand her. If she was really so powerful, she should be equally as prideful. How could she just cast aside her pride and display such unseemly behavior without a moment’s hesitation?

It wasn’t just Melkith’s disgraceful demeanor that had spurred Harpeuron into action. He was ignorant about Archwizards and Spirit Kings in general. He knew that Melkith had formed contracts with several Spirit Kings, but he had never imagined that a single human could simultaneously draw upon the full power of three Spirit Kings. No one would have imagined such a thing was possible without witnessing it firsthand.

‘E-Everyone is underestimating Melkith El-Hayah. Or was this her intention all along?” Harpeuron wondered.

Harpeuron wasn’t the only demon Melkith had mocked and provoked. More than five demons harboring murderous intentions toward Melkith had crossed over into Nahama. All these demons vowed to make her pay for the sins of daring to taunt them with her slippery tongue.

They couldn’t take her lightly. If this was all Melkith’s design, the other demons would surely underestimate Melkith and fall prey to her might, just like Harpeuron.

‘I must share this truth…’ Harpeuron thought earnestly, yet he intuitively sensed that it would be impossible to attain his wish. The battle had not lasted long, but he was already on death’s doorstep.

…Battle? Was this even a battle?

Annihilation was a word better suited for the current situation. The powers of the Spirit Kings were being manifested through Melkith. Her powers were effortlessly dissipating the high-ranking demon’s dark power.

He attempted to abandon the fight and flee, but even that proved futile. The sandy ground below him undulated, lightning roared in the sky, and the air heated fiercely in between.

Melkith herself was astonished by her power. She had used Infinity Force in Samar Forest, but it had been incomplete back then. She had been stabilizing her power just after contracting with Ifrit. Now, Infinity Force was truly complete. It was far different from the hastily assembled version in the forest.

‘I’m so damn powerful!’ Melkith realized.

Perhaps, just maybe, her current self was stronger than the Wise Sienna. While her knowledge, proficiency, and achievements as a wizard could not be compared to Sienna’s, she started to believe that she might not be Sienna’s inferior if it came to pure firepower….

But that being said, maybe a wizard’s knowledge, proficiency, and achievements weren’t that important in this cruel world.

Power. Only power could prove her worth. If the world were to end today, right at this moment, wouldn’t a strong person have a higher chance of survival than a smart one?

Melkith clenched her fist while entertaining such thoughts. She felt quite proud and content as she looked down at Harpeuron.

The grotesque, elephant-faced demon was a wonder to behold, and she was amazed he was still alive in such a state.

“…Uh… you’re still alive, right?” she asked as she cautiously approached him.

His body was burnt to a crisp. Only his head was somewhat recognizable, but it, too, was damaged. The long, whip-like trunks were now mere stumps.

Harpeuron’s ears fluttered as he managed a weak response, “Kill… me….”

To be frank, Melkith wanted to immediately end Harpeuron’s life. Seeing his hideous face was unpleasant, and she worried he might revive. It was entirely possible that other demons were approaching her after sensing or seeing the display of Infinity Force.

They were far enough from the oasis, but the impact of Infinity Force might have reached farther out, and Melkith couldn’t rule out the possibility of other demons approaching them.

“Don’t talk like that. Come on, you want to live, don’t you?” Melkith asked.

She approached Harpeuron while scanning the surroundings. She had been instructed to interrogate the demon if possible, but….

Her expression grew complicated.

Torture? She had never done it before. Yet, an unfounded confidence surged within her. She believed she might excel at it. Harpeuron had proven his tenacity by surviving when he was only a head. Perhaps she could start by pulling out his teeth or gouging out his eyes. Would that prove effective? Or should she resort to methods other than physical pain?

“If you answer my questions, I’ll spare your life,” offered Melkith.

“Just kill me,” Harpeuron said.

“I won’t just let you live…. Hmm…. How about this? I’ll take care of you. You won’t have to worry about others coming to kill you because you betrayed them,” said Melkith.

Harpeuron’s response was unwavering despite Melkith’s relatively gentle approach. Was there such loyalty among demons? Or was it pride? Maybe the demon didn’t want to beg for life from a human.

“Fine, it can’t be helped then. In that case, I’ll start with your teeth,” Melkith said, looking thoughtfully at Harpeuron.

She did not plan on conducting a lengthy interrogation. She decided to abandon the effort if pulling out his teeth and eyeballs didn’t work.

Melkith reached out with her hand while contemplating her next move to cross Nahama’s border into Aroth. She manipulated the sand to form a pair of hands and pried open Harpeuron’s mouth.

“Let’s start with the molars th—. Aaaack!” Her stern words had been intended to instill fear. However, her words turned into a high-pitched scream. Melkith leaped up in shock while flailing her arms.

Rumbleee!

Flames and lightning swept around her.

She realized her mistake in the midst of flailing her arms. Harpeuron had already been close to death, and it was possible he had perished in her outburst.

Melkith landed and blinked repeatedly while looking ahead.

“At this point, are you being deliberate?” Balzac Ludbeth said with a frown while dusting off his robe.

“What are you?” Melkith snapped while trying to calm her startled heart.

She wasn’t off-guard like last time. She had been maintaining Infinity Force, and she had been vigilant to prevent any intrusions by the other demons.

Yet, she hadn’t sensed Balzac. It was only when he emerged from Harpeuron’s shadow that she realized his presence. His existence was imperceptible through mana or magic. Only after he became visible did she acknowledge his presence.

“Are… you… a ghost?” Melkith stuttered.

She was absolutely baffled by Balzac’s presence. Hiding one’s presence was one thing, but to remain undetected even when she was fused with three Spirit Kings in her Infinity Force?

“Invisibility magic is one of my specialties,” explained Balzac.

“But even if it’s your specialty…,” muttered Melkith.

“It’s a spell that might as well be my lifeline, so I won’t share how it works, no matter how much you ask,” Balzac declared solemnly.

Seeing him draw a firm line with his words, Melkith didn’t press further but continued to eye him suspiciously, her gaze filled with doubt.

“Alright, I get it. If you insist that much, I won’t ask further. But isn’t this rather rude?” she claimed.

“What aspect of this do you find rude?” inquired Balzac.

“You suddenly appeared before me and took away my prey,” said Melkith, pointing to Harpeuron.

The demon was held in Balzac’s grasp. Harpeuron frantically looked around with his four eyes. He attempted to assess the situation but was unable to recognize who was holding him.

“Who… who is this?” asked Harpeuron.

This question felt odd. As a demon, Harpeuron should have been able to sense the dark power of a black wizard. Moreover, Balzac was contracted with the Demon King of Incarceration. It was implausible that Harpeuron had failed to detect Balzac’s magic even now after he had revealed himself.

“Indeed. I have committed a great act of disrespect,” Balzac nodded while descending to the ground. He gently placed Harpeuron’s head down and bowed deeply to Melkith. “Lady Melkith, I did not emerge from hiding to belittle, insult, or intimidate you. Nor did I take Harpeuron away to satisfy my own desires.”

“Then why?” asked Melkith.

“I wanted to share my thoughts first, but I was too concerned with my own safety and neglected the possibility of your distress. Had I not intervened, this head would have turned to ash,” responded Balzac.

“What’s your thought, then?” asked Melkith.

“If you want to interrogate him, I can be of assistance,” responded Balzac.

As Balzac slightly raised his gaze, Melkith scrutinized the eyes behind his glasses. She couldn’t discern his true intentions, but his offer to help with the interrogation seemed genuine.

“How exactly can you help?” asked Melkith.

“With magic,” responded Balzac.

“Obviously! But what kind of magic!?” Melkith probed.

“A Signature I developed here in the desert. Since you are also an Archwizard—” But Balzac was interrupted here.

“Are you telling me not to ask? You suspicious guy. Fine, whatever. I don’t know what tricks you might pull, so why should I trust you? I’ll deal with this ugly elephant myself, so just scram!” shouted Melkith.

“If you cannot trust me, how about this?” said Balzac with a sly smile. “I will swear on magic and mana. I will not mix any lies in the answers I get from Harpeuron, and I will pose no threat to you or anyone else.”

“But you’re a black wizard. Do oaths on magic and mana even hold any weight for you? Won’t you later say that being a black wizard allows you to ignore such vows?” Melkith voiced her doubts.

“That’s nonsensical. A vow is no joke, and it can’t be dismissed or evaded with such petty wordplay,” retorted Balzac.

“You seem like you could do it…” muttered Melkith under her breath.

“I’m flattered… that you think so highly of me, but I cannot perform such feats,” Balzac shot down her suspicion.

Melkith stared at Balzac with a skeptical expression. Harpeuron still hadn’t recognized him. The demon was rolling his eyes in every direction, showcasing his unease.

“Why are you so keen on helping, to the extent of making a vow?” Melkith asked finally.

“I’m interested in what I can learn through the interrogation. Plus, I’m eager to test if my new Signature functions correctly,” answered Balzac.

“…Fine, go ahead.” Melkith could relate to the desire to try out new magic. In her youth, she, too, had often caused mishaps because she had failed to suppress such urges. Of course, she did not agree to Balzac’s suggestion solely out of sympathy and respect.

‘A Signature is worth observing,’ Melkith thought.

She realized that the information she could gain by observing Balzac’s new Signature might be even more valuable than what she could gain from interrogating Harpeuron.

His existing Signature, Blind, afflicted a large area and deprived the senses of those held within before they were finally killed. It was a spell ideal for mass slaughter but ineffective against an equal or stronger opponent.

If she ever had to confront Balzac… she was confident of an overwhelming victory, even under the effects of Blind.

‘Someday, he might become an enemy,’ Melkith told herself.

She didn’t just consider the possibility; she was convinced this suspicious man could never be an ally and would inevitably turn into a deadly adversary.

But she couldn’t turn against him based on mere speculation. For now, she planned to use this opportunity to study his new Signature. It would allow her to prepare for a potential confrontation in the future. Melkith admired her own strategic foresight as she focused intently on Balzac.

“Then….” Unperturbed by her glaring scrutiny, Balzac extended his left hand. He raised Harpeuron’s head and turned it to face him.

“You are… Balzac Ludbeth…. No…. Impossible,” muttered Harpeuron.

“Which part do you find impossible?” Balzac asked with a slight smile.

Harpeuron’s cheeks trembled at the sight of his smile. “How can you, a black wizard….”

Harpeuron’s shock was understandable as he couldn’t sense any dark power from Balzac. .

It was unthinkable. How could a black wizard contracted with the Demon King be devoid of any dark power? Was it possible that his senses had dulled after being reduced to just a head?

Soon, Harpeuron realized something more startling.

It wasn’t just the absence of dark power. He couldn’t even sense the life-force and soul that existed in humans. Balzac was standing right in front of him, but Harpeuron couldn’t be sure if he indeed was there.

“I’m pleased to see the reaction I wanted,” Balzac said.

He raised his right arm while maintaining his smile. His sleeve slid down and revealed an arm densely covered in black inscriptions.

The intricate and tightly woven spellwork made his arm look as though it was stained black with ink.

“What… what are you planning to do to me?” Harpeuron asked uncertainly.

The formulas wrapped around Balzac’s forearm began to move. Tiny characters, like grains of sand, shifted and spread towards his fingers and palm. Soon, his arm and fingers were completely black, as if stained with ink. The black pattern writhed and transformed into a pitch-black snake.

“Aaah!” Harpeuron instinctively knew what was to come. Though toothless, the gaping maw of the snake showed an abyss of unending darkness. Being swallowed by it meant an existence trapped in eternal darkness. It would be impossible for him to reincarnate or cease to exist. He would be tortured forever until Balzac permitted otherwise.

“Please, please….” Harpeuron whimpered.

But the snake did not heed his pleas. It grew abnormally in size before engulfing Harpeuron’s head in a single bite. Melkith watched, her face a mix of revulsion and shock.

“What… what did you do?” she asked.

“I devoured him.” Balzac’s response was calm. The snake’s head returned to his hand. He brushed off his arm and turned to Melkith. “It’s overwhelmingly quicker and more convenient than torture and interrogation. Don’t worry, though. All of Harpeuron’s memories remain intact. Think of it as a book,” he assured.

“A book…?” asked Melkith.

“Yes. I’ve turned all of Harpeuron’s memories into a book and… stored it in a mental cabinet within me. This way, there’s no confusion with my own memories and self,” Balzac explained.

“And his power?” asked Melkith.

“His dark power has been added to mine,” came the response. Balzac’s face remained composed, while Melkith’s eyes flared with anger.

“You deceived me!” Melkith shouted.

“How? I have not, not at all. I have not violated my oath,” Balzac stressed on his innocence.

It was a valid point, but who would have imagined he’d devour Harpeuron like that? Melkith wanted to force Balzac to regurgitate the elephant’s head, but before she could act, he spoke softly.

“Calm down, Lady Melkith. For now, we should leave this place,” he said.

“You’re coming with me?” she asked.

“If I leave now, you and Sir Eugene might misunderstand my intentions,” Balzac responded.

“Why… are you bringing up Eugene? I have nothing to do with him,” said Melkith.

“Yes, I understand. But we should still move,” Balzac said. He seemed unconcerned about Melkith’s sorry attempt at her show of loyalty towards Eugene.

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