There are events in the world that are better left undone. Sometimes, not all progress proves to be advantageous.

Destruction in the name of creation, annihilation to facilitate birth—it’s all equivalent. Often, people label it as an inevitable sacrifice.

It’s also seen as a crucial foundation for the forthcoming creation and rebirth. But would those who are truly subjected to destruction and annihilation share the same perspective?

‘No.’

Deep within, Raciel vehemently shook his head. He then recollected the narrative from the novel “Devil Sword Emperor.”

It was a tale of obliteration and genesis. An epic anthem recounting the world’s destruction and subsequent rebirth.

Demian stood at its epicenter.

The empire crumbled.

All semblance of order disintegrated.

In the midst of the ruins, he flourished. As he grew, he once again disrupted the world, ushering in a new beginning.

This had been his destiny from birth, and he had followed it faithfully. Only in the end did he defy that path, conquering it after enduring countless trials.

That’s why.

‘Demian. If I leave you here to face an endless crisis…’

In that crisis, he will eventually discover his true nature. At the very least, he will take the first step. If such a thing truly occurs in this world…

“Everyone will be in danger? What do you mean?”

Princess Adeline’s voice interrupted his thoughts, bringing Raciel back to reality.

Adeline stood before him, with numerous warhorses charging fiercely behind her.

They were the Royal Guard.

The elite guard of the rebels.

Both elite cavalry units from opposing sides clashed violently to obliterate each other. They collided, tangled, and chaos reigned as spears crossed, shields shattered, blood spilled, and shouts and screams echoed.

“Get on now!”

Adeline extended her hand to him. Pulled by her forceful grip, he mounted the horse. Seated in front of the saddle, she yelled.

“My arm isn’t very strong! Hold on tight! Let’s go!”

In response to her command, the horse neighed loudly. Could it be that Adeline intended to leave the battlefield with him?

It seemed likely.

He snapped back to his senses.

“Wait!”

He grasped her shoulder.

“We can’t continue like this. Seriously. If we leave Demian here… it will spell doom for everyone.”

“What are you talking about?”

Adeline looked back at him, her eyes filled with confusion. He understood. She wouldn’t comprehend. It was difficult to discern what he meant.

But he couldn’t explain. He mustn’t. Merely speaking the truth could reveal celestial secrets. If he did, the entity that had left Demian in this world might interfere.

‘That’s why… I’ve been using various excuses to bring him out of the underground arena and keep him by my side.’

He couldn’t confide in anyone.

Not even Demian.

So, he simply kept him close.

To shield him from the hardships and challenges he would encounter, similar to the “Devil Sword Emperor” novel. To ensure he didn’t face such formidable crises. He only wanted him to savor a mundane, peaceful daily existence.

He believed that would suffice.

Without challenges, there is no growth. He intentionally ensnared Demian in a tranquil daily life. Restrained him. Confined him.

Like a flower in a greenhouse.

Like a bird in a cage.

He thought it could be achieved if Demian remained by the crown prince’s side, within the serene palace.

Occasionally, he might encounter minor incidents, but with him at his side, he wouldn’t confront the same desperate pain and challenges as in the original novel.

That’s why he yearned to provide him with a calm and stable life. He sought to hinder his growth.

Without destruction for creation or annihilation for birth, he merely wished for the world to move forward peacefully.

Because then, he could live too.

His life would also be stable.

‘That’s why… even in Cremo, when he saved me and was left alone with Uruus, I went back to rescue him, disregarding everyone’s objections when he was in trouble.’

However, today, he didn’t anticipate him facing such a dire situation.

He didn’t expect him to confront an overwhelmingly powerful opponent one-on-one.

Raciel clenched his teeth.

He was resolute. It appeared that he might have to do something daring once again, just like he had in Cremo. Of course, he was afraid, even terrified.

But compared to what might happen if Demian realized his true nature, enduring a brief moment of fear and acting recklessly seemed like the better option.

“Princess, listen carefully to what I’m about to say.”

Amidst the intense battle between the Royal Guard and the rebels’ elite guard surrounding them, Raciel locked eyes with Adeline. He spoke with emphasis, each word and syllable carrying weight.

“If we want to save everyone here, you are essential. You must follow my instructions for everyone’s survival.”

“What…?”

“Can you do it?”

“…”

Raciel’s intense gaze caused Adeline to unconsciously hold her breath. She had never seen such determination in his eyes before, which might have been the reason.

She nodded slightly without thinking. It was only afterward that she realized the gravity of her agreement.

‘Am I crazy?’

She could simply leave the battlefield with the crown prince. Considering that everyone was engaged in combat, now was the perfect opportunity.

But why was she complying with this absurd and peculiar request from the crown prince?

She couldn’t comprehend herself. She even wanted to change her mind at this moment. However, the crown prince didn’t give her a chance.

“Alright, thank you. Now listen carefully. What you need to do is…”

Raciel explained rapidly.

As she listened to the explanation, gripping the reins, Adeline slowly but clearly understood Raciel’s intentions, filling her with astonishment.

It was astonishing yet awe-inspiring.

Zzzing-!

A sword sparkled. The swordsman moved as gracefully as a snake.

With a sharp and icy determination, it cleaved through the air, targeting vulnerabilities relentlessly.

Swoosh!

Another blade swung. The swordsman responded explosively, akin to a beast.

Dominating the space with an intense determination, it tore through everything, blatantly disregarding all conventions.

Boom-!

The two forces collided.

The snake-like swordplay pushed back the beastly sword, sinking its fangs into weaknesses and tearing at wounds.

In that moment, a serpent-like smile crept onto Javillon’s face. He thought, ‘It’s astonishing and awe-inspiring that such a person exists.’

His eyes, filled with curiosity, remained fixed on his opponent. Demian was there.

Revealing his contorted countenance, he unleashed his beastly swordsmanship. He was on the brink of defeat but still held on.

It was incredibly thrilling to witness.

‘Judging by his skill level… he appears to be at the intermediate level of a Sword Expert.’

It was indeed true.

The man with long, black hair in front of him was rather peculiar. At best, he seemed to possess a fair amount of minor combat experience, and his skills didn’t appear to be highly advanced.

His movements, his swordsmanship, and even his mana control all pointed to this fact.

When he initially blocked Javillon’s sword, Javillon thought it was merely a stroke of luck.

It had been a casual swing meant to slightly injure the Saint military officer. He hadn’t exerted much force into it.

Therefore, he assumed that this individual had managed to block his sword by pure chance.

He had already accomplished something nearly miraculous, but miracles could occur at any time. So, he dismissed it as such.

However, as their swordplay continued, he realized that luck wasn’t the sole factor at play.

…Swoosh!

Javillon’s sword thrust forward like lightning. Five afterimages weaved together, targeting Demian’s forehead, neck, shoulders, vital points, and lower abdomen all at once.

A typical intermediate-level Sword Expert wouldn’t have the ability to dodge or deflect such an attack.

The difference in skill was evident. It was like comparing a tiger to a child.

Yet, the outcome was unexpected.

Clang!

Demian didn’t evade or block the sword. Instead, he surged forward, absorbing all the afterimages with his body.

It appeared as if he had anticipated the afterimages from the very beginning. Furthermore, he managed to deflect the actual sword strike with his shoulder.

“…Tch!”

A scratch marked Demian’s shoulder, drawing blood. However, Demian pressed on.

Gritting his teeth, he advanced even more aggressively, his eyes gleaming. He swung his sword toward Javillon’s waist.

Screech-!

“Ha!”

A triumphant smile graced Javillon’s face. He hadn’t anticipated this response. It was a surprise that only heightened his interest.

‘He narrowly avoids my attack each time, almost getting hit but deflecting it at the last moment? Is this even possible?’

He couldn’t comprehend it.

It felt like his grasp of reality was crumbling.

The idea that a mere Sword Expert could repeatedly thwart a Sword Master like himself and even launch counterattacks seemed like a joke.

But it was also all the more stimulating.

‘He possesses an exceptional innate ability to respond to crises.’

Occasionally, individuals like this appear. True-born geniuses. Nature’s anomalies. Buds that promise future growth. And if left unchecked… they would continue to grow indefinitely.

‘Such individuals must be suppressed.’

Remarkable talents are dangerous. If they grow too much, they become threats. They should be crushed while still in their infancy, while there’s a chance.

Destruction loomed large in Javillon’s eyes, alongside his interest. After all, his target today was the Saint military Officer.

He needed to capture the man who had dared to deceive him and escape. He needed to bind him for life.

‘So, you should meet your end here.’

His playtime with this intriguing adversary had to conclude.

Suddenly, Javillon’s eyes turned cold.

Strength surged into the grip of his sword-wielding hand.

At that very moment.

…Buzz!

His sword emitted a chilling radiance.

The unique skill of a Sword Master. Only those who achieved an endless mana loop could unleash this ultimate destructive technique. The final flash.

It was an aura.

A supreme maneuver.

There was no indication of what was to come.

There wasn’t even a hint of a preparatory motion.

Javillon’s sword trembled ever so slightly. At the same time, the radiant aura before him traced a path of destruction, cutting through space and matter.

Demian’s advancing sword was enveloped by this aura.

“…!”

The moment his sword was completely severed, Demian’s eyes widened in horror. Alarms of danger blared in his heart, urging him to tilt his body to the side.

Whisk-!

The aura’s tip grazed his right cheek and shoulder, sending five strands of his hair drifting into the void.

Chills coursed down his spine, but the true crisis came next.

“The fun ends here.”

“…!”

An emotionless voice echoed right in front of him. For a split second, Demian saw Javillon, his sword infused with aura raised, aiming the tip directly at his heart.

And himself?

He hadn’t even regained his balance yet. There was no way to evade or block the attack. A distant sense of despair overwhelmed his mind.

Is this the end? Is it truly over? A rising sense of desolation made time seem sluggish. No, it created the illusion of sluggishness.

‘I never thought I’d meet my end like this.’

A bitter smile escaped his lips.

He hadn’t anticipated this.

He believed his life held more significance. There were so many things he wanted to do in the future. The idea of dying in such a place felt utterly hollow.

Screech-!

The sword thrust forward. In a mere moment, it would pierce his heart. That realization flashed in his mind.

…Thump!

As if in rebellion.

As if resisting.

His heart pounded forcefully.

Was it defiantly lashing out in the face of certain death?

That’s what he thought, but something felt different. It wasn’t just a feeling; it was more like a profound conviction.

‘…What is this?’

Time, perceived as the flickering of life’s lantern, flowed slowly. Amidst this, Demian squinted, puzzled. It was truly peculiar.

A sword strike that he couldn’t possibly dodge was heading for his heart. The remaining distance was mere inches. Not even enough time for a single breath remained.

Yet, he wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t anxious. He didn’t believe he was going to die. This realization came after his heart began to beat tumultuously.

It felt as though an unknown entity within him had awakened. Not a delusion. It was real.

Thump! Boom!

His heart beat even louder. The dormant self-awareness within him began to stir. It laughed. At him. At the world. At the approaching sword. As if mocking.

‘I am…’

Demian’s eyes involuntarily widened. Before he knew it, the whites of his eyes had turned entirely black.

In contrast, his irises had become stark white. An unintentional self-awareness attempted to erode his will. No, it tried to.

If, at that very moment, an unexpected shout hadn’t erupted, if a massive shadow hadn’t descended upon Javillon, Demian might have had to surrender his entire will to the newly awakened entity.

“Javillon-!”

“…!”

A shout that pierced eardrums.

Upon hearing it, Demian flinched, and his eyes returned to normal. Simultaneously, Javillon jerked and quickly glanced upward.

Soon, Javillon identified the source.

‘Huh?’

A deceased warhorse was hurtling toward him.

No, it was flailing its four legs as it was thrown at him.

It was as if someone with immense strength had hurled a stone or as if a projectile had been launched from a catapult, hurtling towards him as though it intended to flatten everything in its path.

‘What is this?’

Javillon was taken aback. It was vexing. Should he just ignore it? He pondered for a moment and swiftly reached a conclusion.

‘I don’t want to get flattened by something like that.’

Even if the flying horse crushed him, he wouldn’t be severely injured. After all, he was a Sword Master. But he would undoubtedly be jolted in the process.

This would likely worsen his already bothersome headache. That wasn’t appealing.

‘After dealing with that horse, immediately…’

Squeeze!

Javillon halted the thrust aimed at Demian. He retracted it. Utilizing the momentum, he swung upwards.

The aura-infused flash grazed the midsection of the incoming horse.

Swish-!

The airborne warhorse’s carcass was severed at its waist. Yet Javillon paid it no heed.

Brushing aside the splattering blood with his sword’s wind, he redirected his sword downwards, once again targeting Demian.

But at that precise moment.

During the brief lapse in Javillon’s attention, an unexpected figure emerged from behind the divided horse’s carcass.

“…Hmph!”

The man who had waited for this precise moment and taken a daring gamble was Raciel.

With the momentum of the flying horse, Raciel lunged at Javillon.

He reached out. With all his might. Channeling every ounce of his energy. Targeting the momentarily exposed back of Javillon’s head.

Vigorously.

He slapped.

Slap!

Raciel’s plump palm struck Javillon’s nape. Javillon flinched. Raciel exclaimed.

“My hand is a healing hand! Eheheeya↗!”

At that instant.

Ding dong!

[<My Hand is a Healing Hand (Lv.3)> skill has been activated.]

[Patient: Javillon’s headache has been relieved.]

A refreshing message appeared before Raciel’s eyes. Simultaneously, Javillon’s expression changed.

“Huh?”

An unexpected lapse, a feeble attempt lacking even a hint of menace, an ambush that had gone unnoticed, and the resulting slap on the back of his head.

Yet it didn’t hurt. On the contrary, the persistent headache that always seemed to irritate him swiftly vanished.

It was refreshing. Energizing. Liberating. A familiar sensation. It was the touch of the Saint military Officer.

…Yes, this is the feeling.

The moment Javillon unconsciously smiled,

Whoo…?

Suddenly, the aura from his sword vanished completely.

(To be Continued)

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