[Translator - Clara]
[Proofreader - Lucky ]
Chapter 484: The Marquis of Discord (2)
Andras, the first corpse was also known by another name: 'The Marquis of Discord'.
His wings, adorned with white feathers, appeared almost holy at first glance. He had the head of a crow, the eyes of an owl, and the lower body of a wolf. In his hand, he held a flaming sword, burning intensely.
A destroyer, perpetually filled with discontent. He loathed anything in a state of harmony, loved discord, and thrived in chaos.
Clang!
Vikir immediately drew Beelzebub.
However,
[Hahaha— Why are you so wary? There's no need for that.]
Andras still had that ever-present smiling face.
[I’ve just revealed my true form to have a genuine conversation. We can't talk if we're hiding things from each other, can we?]
"......"
[We both have our own goals, and they don’t necessarily conflict. So, why not put down the sword for now?]
At this point, Vikir couldn't help but feel a sense of disbelief.
This was the first time a demon had revealed its true form without engaging in a fight.
‘...If it were any ordinary demon hunter, they might have been deceived.’
But despite Andras' courteous demeanor, Vikir wasn’t fooled.
The reason was simple: his memories from before his regression.
The Marquis of Discord.
A fearsome demon that had roamed the battlefield, decapitating countless great heroes of the Human Alliance with terrifying force.
Even though he stood before him with a kind smile, the creature was still fundamentally a demon—a monstrously vile one, at that.
As Vikir pondered these thoughts, Andras sighed as if he were genuinely tired and began to speak.
[This is the first time I’ve revealed my true form and refrained from fighting. But, since I want to talk, I have no choice. I'm at a disadvantage, after all.]
"......"
[So, can we continue our conversation from earlier?]
Andras' eyes gleamed.
[As I said before... After your death, your past world has become much more stable. I can return you to your original world and even revive some of the people from your memories.]
However,
"There’s no way to revive the dead. Even demons can't defy the laws of nature."
Vikir’s demeanor remained resolute.
“Demons are meant to be slain. That is the law.”
A hound hunts; it doesn’t converse with its prey. That was what he had been taught.
“So the conversation ends here, and from now on, only swords would speak.”
Flash!
Vikir unleashed his full strength from the start, launching a barrage of sword strikes.
The 8th technique of Baskerville. The fangs of Thunder converged into a black sun.
Crash!
The solid throne shattered like crushed tofu.
For a place where a supreme being had resided for decades, it was a rather anticlimactic end.
[Oh dear. If you’re going this far, I guess there’s no other choice.]
Andras swung his flaming sword.
A slash as fierce as the blazing flames came rushing toward Vikir.
Slash—
Where Vikir dodged, a deep crack formed, soon melting and oozing away.
[The vast majority of humans suffer from poverty and starvation, dying before they reach the age of 30, or even 10. Wouldn’t it be better for humans to fall under the care of demons, living as their livestock? Wouldn’t that be a happier existence?]
“Utter nonsense.”
[That’s what you might think. But what about the children suffering in orphanages? Or the ones who never even made it to an orphanage and died in the back alleys? Would they feel the same?]
Andras continued speaking as he parried Vikir’s strikes.
[If humans became livestock for demons, they could enjoy healthy lives that last over a century. They could freely mate with whomever they choose, live well-fed and warm lives, free from disease, war, or hunger. They would achieve self-fulfillment in a world where they could be happy. And when they reach a hundred years old, they would offer their souls to the demons, with their bodies being harvested, just like how chickens are categorized by their growth stages. How is this any different from the ‘salvation’ you humans speak of, or what your gods promise?]
In the thickening darkness, Vikir could feel Andras' gaze fixed on him, observing.
A red grin split Andras' face in the shadows.
[Long ago, there was someone who first made this proposal to humans.]
“......”
[That was ‘God’.]
Andras chuckled as he spoke.
[Of course, that so-called god was far more wicked than I am. It performed the slaughter while giving none of the promised happiness and peace. It even took humans before they had fully grown. I understand that the harvest has been abundant, so it feels free to do as it pleases. But what I don’t understand is why you humans continue to uphold a one-sided contract that has been violated repeatedly.]
“What do you want me to do about it?”
[What do I want? I want you to recognize that I’m offering a better deal for humanity. And to make this offer possible, I need to find my sibling.]
With those words, Andras’ face morphed into that of the First Crown Prince.
The Emperor’s eldest son, the legitimate heir.
He was desperately searching for his illegitimate half-sibling.
[If you help me, I could make you the head of the entire system—an Emperor, just like the Golding family once was...]
But once again, Vikir firmly rejected Andras’ proposal.
“You’ve picked up some nasty ideas.”
[...What?]
“I’m talking about your twisted logic. It’s reminiscent of the philosophies that were popular during the ancient Warring States period. Ideas that might have made sense in the now-defunct ‘Magical Dominion,’ but no longer hold any weight.”
Vikir raised his sword, pointing it directly at Andras.
“The human desire for progress and the instinct to rise above cannot be confined within a system of livestock. No matter how tightly you try to contain it, it will eventually break free, like a needle piercing through a pocket. That’s what it means to be human.”
The demonic sword, Beelzebub, unleashed a piercing aura from its needle-like tip.
...Boom!
The throne crumbled completely under the impact.
Through the thick cloud of dust, Andras emerged, spreading his wings wide.
"Demons must be slain."
[You're hopeless. You just don’t get it, do you?]
Vikir's sword and Andras' blade clashed fiercely in mid-air.
As Vikir deflected the sparks and flames erupting from Andras' sword, he thought to himself.
‘...It’s fortunate that he doesn’t have Asmodeus with him.’
He remembered how shocked he had been when he first encountered the demonic sword at Nouvellebag.
The demonic sword Asmodeus was currently in the hands of Kirko, which gave him some relief.
Vikir focused all his aura into the tip of Beelzebub.
And at the same time, Andras began gathering a dense, dark energy into his grasp, powerful enough to consume Vikir's aura entirely.
[Very well. If you won’t willingly make a contract... I’ll make you beg for one.]
At those words, Vikir tensed up.
Even without a sword, the innate supernatural abilities of a demon were more than enough to pose a significant threat.
And now, Andras, the First Cropse, was preparing to use his unique ability.
[Soon, you’ll be the one begging for a contract.]
It was a moment when the true power of a being that had once stood at the pinnacle among the demons leading the era of destruction was about to be unleashed.
[Translator - Clara]
[Proofreader - Lucky ]