"Counterattack! Counterattack! Hurry and counterattack!"
The captain of the third squad of the gate-guard unit roared orders at his men, pushing the line outward bit by bit.
The struggle at the gate had reached its final phase.
Even though the insider blowing open the gate really did catch these gate guards off guard, under Mr. Funalâs command and steadying presence, that panic was quickly suppressed.
And the Empireâs elite soldiers werenât pushovers either. If you only compared raw strength and physical toughness, they might not match these demonmen tempered in the Abyssâs harsh environment, but whether it was the quality of their equipment or their tacit coordination with each other, it wasnât something these low-ranking demonmenâwhose intelligence was so low they were no different from beastsâcould compare to.
So, under the formationâs step-by-step pressure, even though they still paid no small price in casualties, those demonmen that had crowded inâcharging without fear of deathâwere gradually driven back out through the gap.
...It looked like everything was turning in a good direction.
But...
"It shouldnât be that simple."
Someone said it softly.
And at that exact moment, as if answering that sentence, along with a thunderous boom, fierce light and heat erupted from that gap again.
"Damn it! Who just jinxed us! Take cover on the spot! Form up!"
In truth, there was no need to command. These Imperial soldiers had already, almost by instinct, quickly ducked behind solid shields, expertly using their formation to resist the blastâs impact. So aside from the first few who were swept into the explosion, there were no major losses.
Instead, those low-ranking demonmen were blown apart by the sudden explosion without warning, and countless fragments of demonman flesh and blood rained down in a pattering shower.
Blood and stench became the baseline of this land.
But nobody cared, because that baseline was far too common on this battlefield.
Everyoneâs eyes were locked tightly on the gap that had been torn open again.
Even the squad captainâalready someone who had seen countless battlesâcouldnât help swallowing.
"What a bunch of trash..."
Someone stepped on those chunks of flesh and slowly walked in.
It was a figure even shorter than ordinary low-ranking demonmen, but above his head, massive horns spread into thick branching tines, like they belonged to a male stag.
But a stagâs antlers would not have this kind of ferocious beauty.
A faint crimson glow flickered through the dust. It was only a single figure, yet the pressure it brought was more terrifying than an entire demonman army.
A demon general.
"Canât even grind out opening one gap without dragging your feet. These low-ranking dregs really are unreliable."
He seemed to not care at all that the flesh under his feet came from his own kind. His steps were steady and casual, as if after dinner he had come to a place of spring warmth and flowers to take a leisurely stroll.
But facing this demonman who was strolling leisurely, the soldiers holding formation nonetheless began to retreat involuntarily.
"Good afternoon, you human trash. My name is Chiheniro. I am a demon general under the Youyan Grand Duke, and by the Grand Dukeâs order, I have come to put a period at the end of your ant-like, pitiful lives."
The demon general stepped out of the smoke and dust just like that, the corners of his mouth curling into a teasing smile. Like a human noble, he carried himself with elegant ease as he pressed a hand to his chest and bowed.
"Everyone, raise shields!"
But no one applauded his graceful gesture.
The squad captain shouted, snapping the soldiers awake from the instinctive fear that had made them back up. Solid great shields were raised in unison again, forming a crude wall.
"Mount the crossbows!"
Click-click.
Bowstrings locked into mechanisms.
Powerful magic repeating crossbows were braced in the V-shaped gaps between shields. The sharp bolts aimed at Demon General Chiheniro not far away. Even with fear, the hands lifting the crossbows did not tremble in the slightest.
These Imperial soldiers had clearly been trained for this. They knew very well how to face an enemy at the level of a demon general, so they abandoned that close-quarters, blade-to-blade fighting style they had used against low-ranking demonmen and switched immediately.
Magic bolts were already a very scarce supply for the Imperial army right now, but everyone knew that when facing a demon general, there could be not even the slightest room for holding back.
"Readyâ"
The squad leader directing them raised his hand expressionlessly.
"Ah, ah."
Chiheniro smiled with a rather troubled look.
"When greeting someone, you wait for them to finish speaking. Isnât that your human rule?"
"Fire!"
Twangâ
Bolts engraved with powerful magic erupted with dazzling streams of light in an instant.
These were bolts that represented destruction. As long as they hit their target, even a terrifying demon general would absolutely pay a painful price.
But...
"Too slow."
Chiheniro let out a light sigh. A pale hand extended from his robe, and he swung it hard.
Even if these magic boltsâcrafted with care by Imperial artisansâhad a speed after firing that was almost like piercing through space...
The one pulling the trigger was still only an ordinary human.
Ripâ
Like sheets of ordinary white paper being torn open by a sharp paper cutter.
Those shieldsâsturdy enough to withstand explosionsâwere torn apart by Chiheniroâs casual strike. The violent shock from the shields shattering made the crossbows unsteady, and the streams of destruction didnât even graze the edge of Chiheniroâs clothing.
Next, Chiheniro took another step forward, lifted his hand toward the soldiers who had been knocked into disarray, and pressed down in the air...
Even if it was only a casual blow, it should still be enough to crush these humans into flesh-and-blood scraps, letting this land turn even more vividly red.
I like red.
Chiheniro thought silently.
...But at that moment.
Before the red he imagined could spill, a faint tremor suddenly sounded.
Humm.
Like, beneath a boundless clear sky that would never appear in the Abyss, the vague echo of a muffled... thunderclap.
A dazzling blade-light and the sound of thunder appeared almost at the same time, using the point where Chiheniroâs hand came down as a line to divide all things.
Chiheniro withdrew his hand abruptly.
But that blade-light refused to let up, following along his sleeve and carving out a blood-red stream.
Chiheniro retreated several steps and finally avoided the keen blade aura. He casually shook the blood from his hand, lifted his eyes, and in the crimson reflection of his gaze was a brilliance of gold that almost completely overwhelmed the surrounding red.
That gold was so unpleasant.
...
"You alright?"
Muen flicked a glance at the squad captain behind him.
"Cam... Campbell Young Master!"
A few days were enough for Muenâs appearance to spread throughout the entire fortress, especially after he had given that speech earlier.
Many soldiers had already fully treated Muen as the Dukeâs successor, so even the usually steady squad captain, realizing he had been saved by Muen, could not help struggling to contain his excitement.
"We... weâre fine."
"Good. Then fall back for now."
"Fall back... th-this..."
"Be good."
"Yes!"
Even though Muen was not issuing some harsh order, and there was not the slightest severity in his tone, the squad captain still instinctively drew himself up and answered.
...
"Fast retreat."
After temporarily pulling away the ordinary soldiers who couldnât handle the opponent in front of them, Muen twirled his blade in a flourish and looked at the demon general he was seeing with his own eyes for the first time, with a hint of regret.
"Chiheniro, right? I thought Iâd be able to cut your head off directly."
"Yellow-hair..."
Chiheniroâs crimson pupils brightened. He didnât care about those ants retreating from the stage at all. Instead, he bared an excited grin.
"Youâre Muen Campbell?"
"...Could you not use hair color as your way of identifying people? Thatâs the kind of method that easily causes misunderstandings."
Muen smiled back.
"For example, you could identify me by my handsomeness, my grace, my damned charm, and decide whether Iâm Muen Campbell that wayârather than by âyellow-hair.â There are way too many yellow-haired people in this world, but not every yellow-haired person is like me."
"You do have charm. Even though Iâm demonfolk, I have to admit that."
Chiheniro nodded in full agreement, then suddenly said,
"Thatâs exactly why I like you."
"Huh?"
Muen, who had been about to crush the demon general in terms of presence, froze, thinking he had misheardâor that he had somehow been hit by someoneâs illusion again.
Otherwise, in broad daylight, under open skies, with a battlefield right next to them where people were smashing each otherâs brains out at any moment, how could he possibly hear something this absurd?
"What did you say?"
"I said, I love you."
Chiheniroâs gaze grew even hotter.
"I can say it as many times as you want. I like you. I love you. I truly love you, Muen Campbell."
"..."
Muenâs cheek twitched hard, and his gaze dropped.
Even though demonfolk and humans did have some physiological differences, those differences werenât so large â NĐŸvĐ”lŃgÒ»t â (Only on NĐŸvĐ”lŃgÒ»t) that they created a barrier between species, especially for these high-ranking demonmen who were very close to humanâso with just one look...
Muen could tell this guy was one hundred percent male.
Is this another one of those creepy types?
The horrifying thought surfaced naturally in Muenâs mindâafter he had once been harassed by dozens upon dozens of creepy men.
But this one was demonfolk. That was far more outrageous than any of the shaved-headed brutes from before.
And...
"This is... our first time meeting, right?"
"Yes, but what does that matter?"
Chiheniroâs expression, not just his eyes, became eager.
"I love you, Muen Campbell."
"..."
"So whatâs your answer?"
"Damn you..."
Watching Chiheniro take another step forward, looking like he would rather die than not get an answer for this taboo love so taboo it couldnât be more taboo, Muen finally couldnât suppress the disgust boiling in his gut. His face darkened, and he cursed,
"Get lost, you sick bastard!"
"Your answer?"
"I refuse!"
"Very good."
"Huh?"
"You refused. Thatâs very good."
Chiheniro suddenly took out a cube-shaped crystal, exquisitely crafted and polished from some kind of crystal material.
In the center of the crystal, a vivid red heart floated.
And in the instant Muen was completely confused... as if influenced by the words of his refusal, that red heart suddenly shattered.
ăYou actually... actually rejected me...ă
In a haze, Muen seemed to hear some kind of low roar filled with resentment.
But before he could move, Muen felt the light around him suddenly dim.
The entire world seemed to be filtered through a lens. Everything he saw became warped and blurry.
"Somethingâs wrong..."
What was wrong was not the world.
It was him.
Muen jolted awake and abruptly realized that at some unknown moment, he was already inside a proportionally enlarged cubic crystal, and his body could not move at all.
"This is... what?"
Muen asked.
"An ancient relic."
Outside the giant cubic crystal, Chiheniro held that small, delicate crystal in his hands. His gaze was still burning hot as he answered,
"Itâs an ancient relic called ăHeart of True Loveă. Its ruleâor rather, its trigger conditionâis very simple. As you can see, once you reject the confession of me, its owner... you will be imprisoned by it."