The New Hero (4)
"!"
Lirinel shot to her feet as if burned, just as she had been watching the monsters pounding on the barrier of the third city with bored eyes.
Her eyes were wide open, trembling uncontrollably.
"Lady Lirinel? What is it? Is there some sort of trouble in the fourth city—?"
"It broke."
"Pardon? You mean—the barrier broke?!"
"No! The necklace I gave to Lord Daemon—it shattered!"
"...What?"
Her adjutant's thoughts came to a screeching halt.
Lord Daemon? If she meant that Daemon... yes, Daemon Arut. The commander of the Demon King's 0th Legion.
A being so far above his own standing that even thinking carelessly about him felt like blasphemy. No wonder it took him a moment to process.
Wait—she gave him something? When? Why? And it broke? How?
"What do I do?! I specifically enchanted it to only react to attacks strong enough to cause instant death!"
"Ah... so that really means…"
…He was in danger?
The adjutant's expression twisted into something awkward.
He wanted to empathize, really—but how could he? The idea that the commander of the 0th Legion was in danger? At death's door? No matter how he tried, he just couldn't imagine it.
But if what she was saying was true, then this was serious—very serious.
Someone strong enough to nearly kill him... didn't that mean even the Demon King could be at risk?
"I have to go!"
"Wait, please! Calm down, let's think this through—ah, gods."
Lirinel flailed her arm dramatically toward the horizon.
As if ordering the legion—who were already busy clearing out the monsters—to hurry up even more!
Then she immediately tried to teleport somewhere, forcing the adjutant to grab her in a panic. He let out a deep sigh from the bottom of his soul.
"Unbelievable…"
There were no orders from the Demon King. The legion hadn't been wiped out. The mission wasn't complete yet. By all logic, she should finish her job, follow protocol, and return in proper order. That was common sense.
But whether she didn't know that, or just chose to ignore it—who could say?
One thing was certain, though…
Either way, it's completely absurd.
"I want to quit being an adjutant…"
Someone's silent, soul-weary sigh scattered into the wind.
"I meant to kill you in one blow."
A voice as cold as frost seeped out from behind the helmet.
Despite the clear provocation, Daon simply stood still, watching the shards still drifting through the air.
Even he hadn't expected this.
When it came to survival, Daon was calm—and clever enough to think through the situation.
So rather than rushing in blindly at those words, he focused on analyzing what had just happened to him.
Let's rewind a bit.
Just a moment ago, a transparent barrier had suddenly formed around him—and just as suddenly, shattered. At the same time, the magic-stone necklace Lirinel had given him crumbled to dust, scattering like snow in the air.
That could only mean one thing.
"It fulfilled its purpose."
The magic contained in the stone had activated.
In other words, that barrier had been a powerful defensive spell—strong enough to block a deadly sneak attack. And having done its job, the stone disintegrated.
…She did say it could save him once from an instant death strike.
"So I almost died in a single hit."
His gaze rose from the broken necklace to the attacker.
Though the man's face was hidden behind a helmet, it was likely him—the one the soldiers had been gossiping about so excitedly.
The new hero.
That thought drew a twisted smile from beneath Daon's black hood.
"So you're the new hero."
"I've been called that, though I hardly deserve it."
"…Hmm."
The dagger in Daon's hand spun lazily.
Unlike before, he now pointed it directly at the hero, a slight frown forming between his brows.
His displeasure was obvious in his posture.
"Your voice… it's weirdly familiar. Annoying, even."
"The feeling is mutual. I've never once met a demon until now."
"Take off your helmet."
"You're seriously telling your enemy to take off his helmet, here and now?"
A flat refusal.
Clang! Sparks flew before Cruel's eyes.
Clack, clack-clack.
The dagger and longsword clashed, creating a grating, high-pitched sound.
Then Daon leaned in, his face nearly touching Cruel's, and spoke in a voice laced with laughter.
It was an eerie, unnatural kind of laugh—thick with clear and unmistakable madness.
"You said that title of 'hero' is too much for you?"
"Let me be the judge of whether that title is truly undeserved."
A storm of attacks rained down on Cruel.
Clang! Clang! Claaaang!
A rapid exchange followed.
Without a moment's pause to catch his breath, Cruel calmly deflected every blow coming his way.
He was only blocking them.
The commander of the 0th Legion gave him no chance to counterattack.
That didn't mean Cruel was at a disadvantage, however.
"His attacks are light."
Was it because he prioritized speed, or was that just his usual strength level? Either way, the strikes were far too light.
So light, in fact, that even regular soldiers' attacks felt heavier in comparison. The speed was tough to deal with, yes—but blocking them wasn't too difficult.
Claaang!
Timing it just right, Cruel struck a flying dagger with force, sending it spinning out of the commander's hand and clattering to the ground in the distance.
Yet even weaponless, the 0th Legion commander didn't falter. Instead, he casually swung the dagger in his other hand to create space, then tucked his empty hand into his robe—and pulled out another identical dagger.
A practiced and natural motion. Clearly, he knew his own limitations.
"So if I push him with brute strength and stamina, this might end quickly."
Just as Cruel reached that conclusion, Daon made his own decision.
"Time to pull back."
That damn voice had annoyed him more than expected, making him linger too long. If the enemy had half a brain, he'd have figured out Daon's weakness by now.
He never intended to win this fight.
Daon knew his body too well. He had to know it, precisely because it was weak. Only then could he use it efficiently.
And right now, his body was not doing well.
His breath was starting to come in ragged gasps. His hands were trembling from the repeated collisions.
He could keep fighting, sure—but there was no reason to risk himself on something so pointless. Without hesitation, he kicked Cruel in the stomach to create distance and leapt back.
"Unfortunately, that's it for today."
"...Says who."
"If you want, we can continue tomorrow. Don't you think?"
"..."
But continuing would be too costly.
Whatever the true skill of the 0th Legion commander, what mattered on the battlefield was the weight of his name.
And now that they'd tasted his power firsthand, if he showed up again, morale would plummet even further.
But chasing him down to finish the fight? Cruel wasn't confident in that either.
After their exchange, he had come to understand the man's speed. He knew well enough—Daon could escape faster than he himself could close the distance.
Sensing Cruel's hesitation, Daon gave a mockingly cheerful smile.
He slid the dagger back into his robe and murmured just loud enough for Cruel to hear.
"Honestly, I only showed up because we were losing ground. I'll go back once we reclaim the Demon Realm's territory. It's not like I want to stay here—violence isn't exactly my thing."
Yeah, right.
Cruel's brow furrowed.
"Wasn't it your side that provoked all this in the first place? If that Ninth Legion commander or whatever hadn't been crossing the border, this war wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't even be here."
"Ah…"
He had heard rumors that the 9th Legion commander had been stirring up trouble from boredom—but crossing the border?
Chances were, he'd been dipping in and out of human territory just to taunt them. And the Empire, already on edge about demon activity, would never sit back and let that go.
Understanding the situation that must have unfolded before the hero's arrival, Daon hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"If you give back the Demon Realm's territory, I'll personally make sure our side doesn't pursue any further."
"…An apology would've been enough. It worked out in my favor anyway. Still—I'll gladly accept the gesture."
"Good. Then we're done here."
The conversation ended.
Cruel quietly watched the man in the black robe disappear beyond sight, then turned away and spoke.
"We're pulling back too."
Back to the border.
The Imperial Army was retreating.
It was a deeply satisfying sight.
How much had they suffered to reach this point? Considering all they had endured, this alone didn't even come close to feeling like enough.
The soldiers felt the same—cheering with elation as they chased after the retreating Imperial troops.
1st Legion Commander Jaekar, who had been planning to press the attack, suddenly spotted something and swiftly changed his orders.
"All units, fall back."
There was only one reason for it.
Daemon Arut, commander of the 0th Legion, was off in the distance signaling no with a clear gesture.
He was the one who had cracked open this suffocating situation. His wishes naturally deserved respect.
Besides, if he had walked away from a fight where he had the upper hand against a hero—there had to be a reason.
More than anything:
"There's no need to create problems by offending him."
Jaekar turned his head to see the 0th Legion commander staggering toward them.
"Well done."
No answer came.
Jaekar raised a brow in confusion and opened his mouth to speak again—when the 0th Legion commander's lips parted slowly.
"…Ah…"
…Ah?
Before he could question it, the commander's legs gave out beneath him and he collapsed forward.
Startled, Jaekar rushed to catch him—but someone else was faster.
A hand reached out smoothly, almost as if it had been waiting for this.
It was the 0th Legion commander's adjutant—Ed, was it? Judging by how naturally he supported the falling man, this wasn't the first time. With practiced ease, he caught his crumbling commander and gently spoke.
"Are you all right, sir?"
"…Damn this… useless body…"
A faint tremor passed through the point of contact—a sign that nearly all his strength had been drained.
Ed gazed down at him in silence for a moment, then adjusted his hold to make him more comfortable and whispered kindly.
"You've overexerted yourself again in poor condition. Please rest."
Only then did the tension finally release from the commander's body. He went limp in Ed's arms.
Lifting him almost entirely off the ground, Ed gave a slight nod toward someone. As if on cue, the legion's physician, Ben, stepped in and began his examination.
The whole sequence happened so smoothly that Jaekar forgot to reorganize his scattered forces. He could only stand and blankly watch the scene unfold.
"He's simply fainted from accumulated fatigue after pushing himself too hard in a weakened state," Ben reported calmly.
It took Jaekar about three seconds to realize that the diagnosis was meant for him.
He let out a soft sigh and rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture filled with sheepishness at having been so distracted.
"Take proper care of the 0th Legion commander."
"Understood."
He had planned to ask something, but it didn't seem right to question someone who had collapsed. Besides, he already had the answer.
Why had the 0th Legion commander signaled not to pursue?
Because he knew his body was at its limit.
If he had pushed on and collapsed in front of the enemy, the tide of battle could have turned again in an instant.
And not just that—what would the Imperial Army think, seeing such a scene?
They'd start to believe that the 0th Legion commander wasn't all that formidable after all.
And once that seed of doubt was planted, his presence would no longer be enough to shake the enemy.
Choosing not to pursue was a completely rational judgment. And obeying that signal had been the right call.
What might've happened if he hadn't listened?
Jaekar didn't even want to imagine it. He shook his head and looked again at Daemon Arut, now slumped in Ed's arms.
"Respecting him was definitely the right choice."
The 0th Legion commander had appeared suddenly and taken his place among them.
Many of the other commanders had wrestled with the same question:
[Should we acknowledge and respect him—or try to push him out?]
Jaekar had never voiced it, but he had wondered the same.
Especially since he had previously held the highest number—Commander of the 1st Legion—it had been even harder not to think about.
But in the end, he had come to a conclusion:
[Acknowledge him.]
He'd never really had a choice.
Even without the feats—like stopping the hero's self-destruction or killing the former 7th Legion commander—he was personally brought in by the Demon King. How could one not acknowledge him?
And that decision had proven to be the right one.
The 0th Legion commander wasn't some reckless brute who chased enemies blindly. He was a leader who could assess the situation calmly and restrain his own desires.
"He must've wanted to fight longer."
If he had pushed himself just a little harder, he probably could've continued.
But he stopped—because he understood the risk was too great.
A loss for the 0th Legion commander wouldn't be his loss alone. It would deal a blow to the morale of the entire Demon King's army.
Watching Daemon anew with a fresh sense of respect, Jaekar let out a small chuckle and turned away.
There was still work to be done.