Chapter 334: Shifting Tides of Battle

Everywhere, the slack threads snapped taut simultaneously, severing Lirinel’s head from her body.

Develania watched Lirinel’s head roll across the floor, her expression unreadable, before she spoke softly.

“A Commander of the 11th Corps who can’t use magic is as good as a Human Realm child.”

Utterly weak and useless. Even alive, she’s too pathetic to contribute anything to a battle between monsters like us.

“So the Commander of the 11th Corps is dead.”

Without a second thought, she turned away. Raising a hand to her mouth, the internal injuries inflicted by Lirinel’s magic finally caught up to her.

One might expect a violent reaction from suppressing it for so long, but all that escaped was a short, dry cough.

“Cough.”

Spitting out the blood that had pooled in her mouth, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand and glanced around. Everyone was still locked in combat with Deon Hart’s legion commanders. She sighed.

‘…So, in the end, am I the only legion commander capable of keeping Jaykar in check?’

She wanted to rest, but battlefields offered no such luxuries. Snapping her fingers, she conjured magic.

Magical stakes erupted from the air and floor in the most strategic locations, and invisible threads loosely encircled Jaykar at the center.

Threads were incredibly useful for silent attacks. By the time an opponent noticed something amiss, it was usually too late.

Especially now, with the ambush from the Commander of the 2nd Corps, even the Commander of the 1st Corps, Jaykar, who had been wrapping up the other legions, was too late to react when he sensed the impending danger.

“…Done.”

“…!”

Slash!

…Before strength, there was compatibility. Most legion commanders avoided fighting Develania precisely for this reason.

An ambush capable of even severing the 1st Corps Commander’s arm.

Yes, Jaykar’s arm was gone.

‘…I was originally aiming for all his limbs.’

She had planned to slice him into numerous pieces, but he dodged all of that and only lost an arm?

She’d thought he might have gotten rusty from holing himself up in Demon King’s castle, but sparring with Deon Hart and experiencing real combat had sharpened him up again. Annoying. Develania grimaced.

“Well, even so…”

Jaykar’s gaze snapped towards her. Meeting his eyes directly, she smirked.

“A one-eyed, one-armed 1st Corps Commander… I should be able to handle you head-on, right?”

“…”

It was a taunt, but not entirely untrue.

Losing an eye would disrupt his depth perception, and losing an arm would throw off his balance. Unless he had adapted over a long period, Develania, a legion commander with all her limbs intact, naturally had the advantage in the current situation.

“…Battles aren’t won with words.”

Instead of reacting to her blatant provocation, Jaykar quietly tightened his grip on his sword.

Meanwhile, Commander of the 9th Corps Trober, still fiercely battling the Commander of the 6th Corps…

“Damn it, damn it! What the hell is going on?”

He roared, swinging his axe with all his might.

Sir Deon, no, Deon Hart, wishing for the deaths of demons on his own side? What nonsense!

He had hoped it was just Develania’s manipulation, but even the other guys knew about it. Meaning it wasn’t a lie.

“Damn it all!”

Clang!

As if mirroring his chaotic mind, the sound of axe and fist colliding echoed ominously.

Not only was the confirmation of those words unpleasant, but the fact that he was the only one who didn’t know was also irritating. As he swung his fists irritably, Belitan, who had been staring at him during their fight, suddenly spoke.

“If you’re that angry, why not join our side?”

“Huh?”

“If you join us, you can deal with Deon Hart, can’t you?”

“Wouldn’t that be the same for Develania’s side too?”

“There’s no way you can kill a Hero without backing.”

A scornful snort escaped him.

Perhaps because they were engaged in conversation, their exchanges slowed slightly. Seizing the opportunity as if to persuade him, Belitan continued.

“Now that things have come to this, Lord Demon King will surely step in. As a Demon King, he can’t just ignore a Hero who is his enemy.”

“…”

“Meaning, he’ll move even if we aren’t causing a fuss. If you just stick with us, your revenge will naturally be fulfilled.”

“…”

“So, how about it? Will you join our side?”

Trober neither affirmed nor denied. Instead, he muttered a curse under his breath.

“Damn it, if my heart was free, I’d want to.”

“…What does that mean?”

“I can’t. I’m bound by a contract.”

“What… no, wait. Could it be…”

“I screwed up.”

When he heard the contract details, thinking it was advantageous, he hastily signed it without any special clauses, fearing Dan might change his mind. Because of that, there was no clause like, ‘Except when Deon Hart tries to kill Trober.’

Even the penalty for breaking it wasn’t specifically defined, so the penalty he had wagered when betting the initial wish tickets, promising to fulfill any request, remained.

Having wagered ‘all his magic power,’ breaking the contract would mean losing all the magic power that constituted his body. In other words, death.

“You… are you an idiot?”

“…It was a mistake, okay!”

“I wasted my breath for nothing. No, rather, I should be glad I didn’t drag in such an idiot. Having you as an ally would only give me a headache.”

“Do you want to die?”

The battle intensified again.

Nevertheless, the dumbfounded expression on Belitan’s face didn’t disappear. Even the look in his eyes, as if he were looking at a complete moron, remained unchanged, so Trober deliberately hammered at a part of the axe, growling.

“Even if I think of another way, I’ll kill you first and then think.”

“With that brain of yours, you can’t…!”

Crash!

The axe shattered. Among the sharp shards scattering in all directions, Belitan reflexively snatched the largest piece, and grunted as Trober’s hand clamped down on his neck, slamming him to the floor.

As if determined to break his neck, Trober’s thick hands gripped his throat with brute force. A vaguely irritated voice reached him.

“I’m already on the larger side, but you’re ridiculously huge and mindless.”

“Kuh-”

“Looking at your appearance, aren’t you really a magical beast?”

Just to grab one neck, I have to use both hands….

He ignored the meaningless mutterings. Belitan wildly swung the blade shard in his hand. Just before it pierced his temple, Trober grabbed his wrist, but didn’t stop there, kicking him away as if to push him off, sending him flying overhead.

“Huff, cough! Did you ever see a magical beast you could reason with? And that remark… that’s demon race discrimination.”

Demons shouldn’t be judged by appearance; the hierarchy should be based fairly on the logic of strength.

His palm stung from gripping the handle-less, sharp shard tightly, leaving a rather deep wound. But his neck seemed to hurt more, so Belitan took a few more breaths unnecessarily and then charged back at Trober.

Trober prioritized knocking away the dangerous shard by striking Belitan’s wrist. Belitan had already injured his wrist from Trober’s grip, so he couldn’t help but drop the shard even with a simple punch.

Ignoring his throbbing wrist that felt like it was cracking, he threw a punch back.

Bang! Crash!!

An explosion that was hard to believe came from mere punches. The legion commanders who glanced back at them thought,

‘A battle of pure strength.’

‘It’s a battle of pure strength.’

Devoid of special techniques, they were just exchanging brute force blows, but in fact, that was precisely why it was so spine-chilling.

They only glanced at the fight between the two beasts for a moment, before refocusing on their own battles against their immediate enemies.

Meanwhile, Trober, exchanging blows, felt the strength in his opponent’s punches waning and his eyes gleamed. Instinct told him. Victory was tipping in his favor.

‘Of course.’

Belitan relies on weapons, while I’m a pure martial artist!

Regaining composure, his lips twitched. He grinned at his opponent.

“Shall I show you some magic?”

“What nonsense are you…”

“The magic of my victory!”

Gathering his remaining strength, he slammed a fist into Belitan’s jaw. As expected, Belitan, whose strength had waned considerably, staggered without properly defending. Trober seized the opening and lunged again to choke him. His neck was too thick to break, and there were no suitable weapons around, so this was his only option.

He pretended to be fine, but his own stamina was also critically low. If he didn’t kill him now, he might be the one to die. Gritting his teeth, he tightened his grip.

“Please, just! Die already…!!”

His opponent was just as desperate, thrashing and swinging his fist with all his might. The menacing sound of air being torn apart reached him, and he saw the fist getting closer. And then,

Crack.

The sound of bones breaking echoed from his grip at the same moment the fist stopped right next to his face.

In the silence of an eternity, the fist slowly lost its strength and then dropped limply. Only then did Trober release his grip on his opponent’s neck and slump down in place.

“Ha… I thought I was going to die.”

He roughly wiped away the cold sweat streaming down his face.

When Belitan had thrown that punch, the wind it generated as it passed his face had been ominous. If it had landed, he would have definitely been knocked out, and the aftermath would have been unpredictable. An even more chaotic brawl than before would have ensued.

…Anyway.

‘Now the remaining enemies are……’

Turning away from the finished fight, he surveyed his surroundings.

He decided to leave Derniban, who was fighting well against the Commander of the 4th Corps, for now, and his eyes landed on the battle between the 1st and 2nd Corps Commanders.

“…What?”

A reflexive question escaped his lips.

“What the hell happened while I was fighting?”

What could have happened for the 1st Corps Commander to be in such a state?

To exaggerate slightly, one might say the 1st Corps Commander was gone, replaced by a tattered mess.

Why was his eye like that, and where had he sold off an arm? Yet, to be fighting evenly with the Commander of the 2nd Corps in that state, Develania was indeed formidable.

‘Anyway… the 1st Corps Commander was our ally for now.’

Deon Hart may be trying to kill them, but the immediate enemies were clear. Whether they would have to fight their former allies again later, they should first eliminate the current enemies and then think about it.

Commanders like the 2nd Corps Commander, who relied on sly ambushes and thread manipulation, were vulnerable to those who overwhelmed them with brute force like himself.

‘I’m also in a precarious state, but… even at a glance, I’m in much better shape than that one-eyed, one-armed demon.’

Rather than pointlessly waiting and dragging out time, potentially losing the 1st Corps Commander and having to step in himself, it was better to take the initiative and face the 2nd Corps Commander. Given the 1st Corps Commander’s personality, he would rejoin the battle as soon as his physical condition recovered to some extent, so he only needed to hold out, not necessarily win. Even before switching out, he could get support from the 1st Corps Commander if things got dangerous.

Therefore, Trober dragged his battered body into their fight to end this tedious battle.

“Develania! Why don’t you let the patient rest and fight me instead?”

Develania forced a smile onto her stiff face at the unwelcome arrival.

“Is there any demon here who isn’t a patient? You’re a patient yourself.”

“Patients aren’t all the same. I knew you were a bit sly, but to think you’d be cowardly enough to hold onto a seriously injured one.”

“He wasn’t seriously injured from the start, was he? And where’s cowardice in battle?”

“Shut up and fight!”

“You brainless bastard…!”

Develania’s expression finally crumpled. Jaykar’s expression wasn’t much better.

“I can handle it.”

“Who said anything? I’ll fight until you recover your stamina. My condition isn’t great either, so I can’t fight for long.”

“…Leave it to me.”

Honestly at his limit, Jaykar didn’t insist further, sheathing his sword and leaning against a nearby boulder, clutching his shoulder where blood still dripped occasionally.

Develania, alternating her gaze between Jaykar and Trober, gritted her teeth.

“Ha, switching out to fight? How cowardly…”

“Where’s cowardice in battle?”

Just hurry up and come at me.

Trober grinned.