Chapter 142
Chapter 142. “Hero Squad”
――Quick Run.
With legs enhanced by magical power, I dash down the slope like the wind. The footing is terrible, but even the three idiots don’t stumble in such disgrace.
Carrying the momentum, I catch the enemy off guard and break through the bushes ahead.
As I emerge from the thicket, I realize, unsurprisingly, that the group stationed at the left detour has noticed our charge and are attempting to regroup.
In a flash, arrows are released to intercept us, but they’re deflected by the magic barrier, “Prohibition of Stabbing.”
“Kneel!”
“Stand back!”
“Cripple their legs!”
In retaliation, my subordinates unleash curses and spells. Of course, the power is toned down. Albar Aoril’s curse ensnares the Beastmen, and Kuvirtar stomps heavily, sending countless stones flying as the ground erupts.
Several stones hit, producing dull sounds like “thud” and “yowl” echoing in pain. That must hurt like hell, but if it were real combat, it would likely be sharp stone pillars instead of mere pebbles.
“Take that!”
“Burn!”
Okay, the Seire Knight brothers are using fire magic, but it’s just flashy enough to prevent wildfires. If this were actually life-or-death, the flames would probably be somewhat better.
“The Beastmen squad is half-destroyed! Those hit by curses or magic are rendered unable to fight!”
I recognize the voice—it’s Platty.
There she stands at the edge of the battlefield, arms crossed like a metal-clad goddess, a megaphone in her hand. Dressed in riding attire, she sports a sash that says “Goddess of the Battlefield.” In other words, she’s acting as the referee.
“No further curses for Zilbagias’s unit! An excellent priest will protect us with divine blessings!”
Pointing toward the front—
“Gahaha! You dark folk have come!”
Four Demon Race members stand ready, full of fighting spirit.
Each clad in armor, they wear tags like “Hero” and “Priest.” Since these are just costumes of heroes, they wield swords and shields instead of spears, even raising a ragged flag from the Holy Church they found on the battlefield.
“What’s the matter, Demon Race?! Come at us!”
“I’ll make a cup out of your skulls!”
“Hey, you gods of light! Protect us!”
Clang, clang, clang, the heroes bang their shields with their swords, laughing like fools.
What the hell with these idiots… I’m going to kill them!
“You’ve got to be kidding; look how rough they are!”
While my blood starts to boil, Antende mutters with disbelief.
My allies and I are irresistibly drawn toward the hero squad at that moment—
From the shadows, a figure suddenly emerges.
“Seire, dodge!”
My warning came too late.
“Huh? Whoa!”
“Sorry!”
A glimmering flash of a sword. The Seire Knight reacts, raising his spear to defend, but with a swift “snick,” the spear gets cleanly cut in two. The man swiftly evades, the blade skimming his neck.
――Sword Saint, Virosa.
“Seire has fallen!”
Platty announces.
“My spear!!!”
The Seire Knight cries out in a heartbreaking voice as he collapses, seemingly out of strength.
“That’s the famed Sword Saint of the Night Elves…!”
Albar Aoril swallows hard, gripping his spear.
Virosa stands there, quietly wielding a slender sword, radiating an aura that surpasses ordinary demon races. In the Demon Lord Kingdom, anyone powerful earns respect. Albar Aoril looks at Virosa without disdain; rather, it’s filled with fear of strength—
Damn, encountering him shows just how formidable he is.
The hassle of dealing with a Sword Saint bolstered by magic support…!
“Kuvirtar! Hold him down!”
“Yes!”
At my command, Kuvirtar steps up. If curses are off the table, he’s the best match against a Sword Saint.
With a stomp, Kuvirtar unleashes magical energy into the ground. Thin stone pillars shoot up from below, like spears aimed at Virosa.
However, a dry sound rings out—snip!—and everything is sliced clean off. Kuvirtar and Virosa stare each other down, cautious not to get careless—
In the meantime, I move forward with my subordinates to strike the hero squad.
“Here they come!”
A large demon man, a “hero,” suddenly grins fiercely while raising his shield. Who the hell is this? Relatives of Platty?
And what’s with that stance… It looks full of gaps!
I release the magic that binds and take my sword-spear in a thrusting stance.
“Ha!”
The fake hero, who foolishly tries to cover with his shield—
The moment he blocks his view with the shield, I pull back the spear and kick the shield with all my might.
“Whoa!?”
As he loses balance, I follow up with a sweep of my spear, poking the tip against his throat as he falls.
“Hero Legorius, has fallen!”
“Gwaah, I’ve been defeated!! Gwahahaha!!”
The demon sprawls out in delight, despite losing. I feel like I’m forced to join a third-rate theater troupe.
Let’s finish this already.
“You two take care of the priest! I’ll—”
While directing my subordinates toward the two demon priests, I glare at the remaining hero.
This guy is—
“That’s quite a stance you’ve got.”
Ah. Even you, the clumsy one, can tell, Antende. “Who’s the clumsy one?!”
A robust “hero” clad in full armor—wearing a full-face helmet designed for demon races to accommodate their horns, hiding his face.
This guy… is competent.
Unlike the last hero I took down, his sword and shield stance feels well-calculated. It’s not standard human swordsmanship, but surprisingly, he knows what he’s doing!
“—”
Without any preliminary motions, the full-face hero steps forward.
I also advance, with the distance instantly closing to zero.
Then, instead of a sword, he swings at me with his shield. The air whooshes as it closes in on me.
This guy! He knows how to use it…!
I shift my grip on the sword-spear and slice in a glancing arc. The blade that slides in deflects it, but it’s too easy—
“Gah!”
I twist my hand and go over the opponent’s sword, pushing my spear tip hard into his vulnerable position—
“Haha!”
The raspy voice of the full-face hero amusedly remarks, rolling away to dodge my attack without hesitation. That voice just now… sounds familiar…
“Nice one!—Take this!”
He throws his sword at me casually. It catches me off guard, forcing me to dodge, which slows my counterattack.
While I’m distracted, the full-face hero regains his composure—
“FEAST ON THIS SACRED BLADE!”
His hand gathers dark magical energy.
It sharpens and extends, turning into an obsidian-like blade, lunging at me.
“No fing way!*”
I can’t help but let out a ridiculous yell. This—this is the bloodline magic Platty used!!
Even as surprised as I am, my body moves. I tilt my head to dodge the magical blade by a hair’s breadth, twirling my spear’s handle to strike with the blunt end—
“Hmph!”
Naturally, his shield blocks it.
But then—
A color-faded holy sword blade slips in from above.
I have the Adamas gripped firmly in my right hand, separates from the sword-spear.
Within the full-face helmet—gleaming eyes glare down at me, the shaft of Adamas pointing at the neck.
“—Ha ha ha!! I submit, I concede, this is my loss!”
He releases his stance, laughing heartily.
“Hero Squad, annihilated! The Beastmen and Forest Elf squads, demoralized and fleeing! Victory for the Demon Lord’s Prince!”
Platty announces as the battle comes to a close.
Before me, the full-face hero removes his helmet.
With a whoosh, silver hair cascades over the wind.
The eyes of a sharp, wild-faced middle-aged demon woman glare back at me. So she was a woman after all…
“Nice! I’ve heard about you. Turns out Platty wasn’t exaggerating!”
Her eyes, appraising, gleam with amusement.
…Huh?
She called me “you,” and seems quite familiar with Platty…
“I wouldn’t exaggerate.”
Platty approaches, shrugging indifferently.
“As you’re well aware, mother knows.”
Mother!? So that means, she’s my…
“Hah! But this—this one’s going to need verification firsthand!”
The woman, my grandmother, laughs snidely, glancing over.
“I’ve longed to meet you, Zilbagias. I’m your grandmother—”
She stands proudly, declaring with confidence.
“—Gorirashia Dosrothos!”
She was the mother of the magnificent Platty.
(Note: Gorillas do not exist in this fictional world.)
