“It’s impossible.”
The Golden Knights. A despairing voice leaped from Lemon’s mouth.
“What the hell!”
He was clearly a greenhorn.
Too young, a young man with a handsome face who had just dipped his body into these waters for the first time.
He was considered skilled, but there were plenty on this side who could compare with him.
S-class Hunter.
A title that only those who have been through all kinds of turmoil can reach.
The Knights of the World Tree also often challenged themselves to prove their skills, but it’s a position not easily obtained.
Lemon was also a skilled person, shoulder to shoulder with them.…But why?
Lemon trembled as he looked at the two corpses lying on the floor.
Just now, two talents equivalent to S-class had been defeated.
By that man of at least equal skill.
“Is this really a power that can come from one’s own body?”
“Surely… I cut off his arm.”
Even Lemon’s knights were losing morale.
Overwhelmed.
The more they thought they could reach him, the more desperately they clung, but no noticeable change existed.
Veterans among veterans.
Hunters who must have lived for at least thirty years killing demons and Ents.
They moved with experience, cutting off the enemy’s tendons.
Both arms’ tendons. One Achilles tendon.
Normally, one should become a puppet incapable of anything.
Yet, the man moved as if nothing happened.
Bizarre and grotesque.
Even bleeding profusely, he was fine.
The style of combat was too terrible to even mention.
Gouging out eyes with two fingers. Or piercing eardrums with a stolen sword.
There was no hesitation in these terrible acts.
Woong Woooong!
What about magic?
Whenever there was a gap, he timely found and activated the right magic.
A mysterious being that shattered the obvious common sense that martial artists cannot use magic.
Instead, he countered other magicians, breaking their spirits.
As if flaunting his power.
He did not hesitate to inflict injuries on himself, seemingly trying to induce fear forcefully.
And it worked all too well against the ragtag alliance.
“K, h. Uaaaaah!”
A hunter, half-laughing crazily, charged to stab the Young Demon.
Holding the spear at an angle, aiming to pierce through his back—
But the Young Demon was faster.
“…Hup!”
The Young Demon flipped over to the man’s back and kicked him.
The hunter lost his balance and slammed into the ground, then spikes that sprouted from the ground pierced through the man’s body.
Kwajik!
The sound of flesh being impaled on spikes.
A rose full of spikes, drenched in blood, bloomed.
The spikes were clearly a product of earth magic, a transformed form.
It’s difficult to produce impromptu magic transformations.
This must have been magic prepared before the battle.
Then, it was even more concerning.
How many tricks did that man have up his sleeve?
Despite being of equal skill, the variety of patterns he could utilize was in a different dimension.
Above all, the biggest gap between the Young Demon and them was this:
“…He doesn’t get tired.”
No matter how much they attacked him, there was no sign of him weakening, an inexhaustible stamina.
Lemon gripped her greatsword tightly.
‘I wish it were a bluff. But it doesn’t seem so at all.’
Now they understand why he’s called the Young Demon.
An incomprehensible pressure. Charisma.
A sensation that they had felt from leaders of the red knights, personal guards, great magicians, or presidents of the infinite guilds who had reached the pinnacle of power, was also emanating from the Young Demon.
…If they let things continue this way, more individuals surpassing their limits would emerge.
Beings that all the World Trees were wary of and hostile toward.
They were of the same rank as the Wood Spirit King, like the modern Heavenly Demons and the Infinite.
“Kuh.”
They must defeat him here.
Gritting her teeth, Lemon shouted until her throat was hoarse.
“I’ve called for reinforcements!”
The eyes of those who had been subdued lit up at her voice.
Even if it meant all of them dying here, they must defeat him.
Her saffron hair fluttered in the air as spirits clung to her body.
Release. Tree Transformation.
The notable tree people present drew upon the protection of the World Trees.
“…Lionheart King.”
Lemon, who had trained every bit of her strength to repay the grace after being saved by the World Tree, was often ridiculed by some as a case of nepotism. However, no one could deny her actual skills.
It was clear she possessed a fragment of genius.
Crunch!
Strength over intelligence.
Spikes sprouted from the iron armor.
Giant branches, resembling the mane of a lion, extended from her shoulders.
Righteous golden magic expanded.
‘Release is something only the chosen blood can do.’
If one could use it, their strength doubled.
Even among S-classes, there was a difference.
Lemon’s saffron eyes began to sparkle with light.
Swoosh!
The steadfast rain.
The droplets reflected a cluster of yellow light, illuminating the vicinity.
An entity that vanquished evil.
The World Tree’s sword, honed for this purpose.
Lemon, outside her lips, recited a prayer as if overcoming despair.
“…World Tree, please take him in and heal him to death.”
As the woman’s voice added, the energy strengthened.
The Young Demon’s dead eyes directed at her for the first time.
“Glory of the trees, the spirit’s request. Even if shattered, it shall not wilt.”
The greatsword, once held in both hands, was now held up with one.
“Straying from glory only becomes a cutting. Returning to a handful of earth.”
Golden Knights.
Combatants representing the order.
Dressed in white armor and setting up a flagstaff, they were God’s army spreading prosperity.
Lemon took a step.
Thump!
Her footprint embedded in the ground.
Blue energy spread out, and the surrounding magic entered her body.
Lemon’s bewitched eyes stared at the man.
“……”
The collision was momentary.
The time it took for each to move and reach right in front of each other was the blink of an eye.
Lemon’s sword, aiming to rip through the man’s throat, stretched out with a swoosh.
Magic formed waves along the sword as it moved.
Despite dodging the sword strike, the man’s body disintegrated.
Crack!
The Young Demon stepped back.
The upper half of his body, revealed by his torn shirt, bled from torn muscles.
Yet, he still stared at Lemon.
Thinking she must not stop here, Lemon pressed on him again.
The sword struck repeatedly, coming down.
“…Kaaap!”
She let out a battle cry, her voice cutting through the air.
The act of screaming, beyond the fatigue of battle, cleared her mind, as she couldn’t bear the pressure any longer.
This was the swordsmanship of a knight.
The Young Demon’s body moved.
Crack!
Penetration.
The speed of the unavoidable sword strike pierced his shoulder.
For a moment, joy appeared on Lemon’s face.
‘…Straight to the heart.’
But that joy was fleeting.
The blood that flowed down the blade dripped from her scabbard.
The sword did not move; the Young Demon was holding it.
Swish, swish.
The sound of blood oozing out between muscles as he took a step closer was audible.
He didn’t mind the blade and flesh rubbing together, widening the wound.
His grim face closed the distance.
Bang!
His fist struck Lemon’s abdomen.
The dark magic that erupted shattered her breastplate.
─ Heavenly Demon Divine Power · Two, Mancheopbaekdo (Ten Thousand Layers White Peach)
It was as if white petals were fluttering. He brutally battered her entire body.
“Khaaak…!”
Her lungs tightened, and a breath mixed with blood spurted out.
Magic swept through her entire body once more.
Magic?
Whether unconscious or conscious.
The magic core was completely blocked, and Lemon’s armor, unable to receive power, fell to the ground piece by piece.
The knight’s bravado faded with a single blow.
“…Ah, uh. Ugh.”
Her vision turned blood-red.
The man reached out to her.
Suddenly, Lemon was pushed aside, and he twisted his head to dodge an arrow coming from the surroundings.
Thud! Bang!
He was kicked to the ground.
Lemon looked down at her abdomen, feeling her insides twist.
“…What is this?”
Bloodied.
It burned to the extent that she couldn’t use magic.
Looking back at the Young Demon with disbelief, he was already engaged in a fierce battle with the hunters who had joined late.
Dodging attacks, he spun around and kicked a head.
The skull of the hunter was deeply dented.
He dodged an ambush from behind. With his feet, he broke the neck bones of another fallen enemy.
The black magic flickered several times following the ever-changing tips of the Young Demon’s fingers.
It was like looking at petals.
“…Hoo.”
A sigh escaped the man’s lips.
His gaze was directed at the numerous hunters descending from Dowon.
Thirty-three.
The number of hunters he had taken down so far.
Although called a monster, it’s not that he didn’t have accumulated injuries.
The strike from Lemon was clearly healing more slowly.
If they continued to pursue him relentlessly, they could kill him.
Hope began to blossom on the faces of the hunters and knights.
Chzzzz.
Then, the sound of a walkie-talkie.
A voice sprung from the pocket of a corpse spread throughout the battlefield of the bloody fight.
-…Support. Request.
The inevitable request for reinforcements. However, among that, another piece of information was caught in the middle.
The Young Demon, not just one.
Information was not widely shared due to the use of shared walkie-talkies among the group, and the voice was so faint that only a very few could understand the content.
“What?”
The man’s head tilted. The reaction was unusual.
The very top of Dowon.
Even that place, located in the deepest part of the mountains, could not be completely safe from the attack.
“…Please, spare my life.”
Chaos.
Fruits from the market rolled on the ground as merchants, preparing for the morning, begged for their lives with tears swallowed.
Unlike the original mission to assassinate the Young Demon, the nature of the battle had turned into a civilian massacre. A hunter muttered as he stepped on the mud mixed with rain.
“The Young Demon appeared below.”
“It’s fine, just bringing the sect leader’s head is enough.”
Each was leading a guild or was the strongest force within that guild.
It was a fight targeting the entirety of Dowon. Capturing a power figure and presenting it would surely be credited as their own achievement and career.
Cheonma attacked below?
For the separate units attacking the core, this was rather good news.
S-class with more than five powerful individuals. Monsters recognized by the era, filled with overconfidence.
“And capturing that old man’s daughter will be a jackpot. The reward will be sweet.”
Hwangdo and Baekdo.
Whether by beheading or enslaving, either way, it would bring in a lot of money.
“…I don’t think we can become friends.”
Of course, there were those who drew their swords solely for justice.
But it was a misconception to think that the majority of those who bore grudges against Cheonma were good.
“Why, disgusted? Keh. We just follow the word of God. These guys are traitors.”
Forces that turned their backs on the world.
The end of that path began to show.
But was this really right?
Some hunters truly felt sorry to see this.
Bitter laughter and resignation.
Knowing it’s not right, yet they eventually draw their swords to comply.
Because turning their swords against God would make them end up like those of Dowon.
They mingled with the scum of society, merely S-class in name.
Some of them thought of themselves in that way.
“I don’t want to do this ever again.”
Yet, they had to.
Jeong Ho-mun ultimately drew his sword.
An S-class man who was considered to be nearly at the pinnacle.
He, too, was one of those compelled to kill Cheonma, even if reluctantly.
Threatened by the grace of the World Tree or fanatically devoted to it as if under a spell.
Of course, there were also those genuinely motivated by the benevolent will of the World Tree.
History’s events were often a quagmire, intermingling good and evil.
Kwaaaang!
The roof collapsed.
The body of an A-class hunter, its neck half-crushed, rolled on the ground.
Jeong Ho-mun and the hunters catch sight of a woman in black, her eyes wide and glaring.
“…You.”
Her eyes flash like a snake’s, filled with fury.
Their bodies shrink back from the murderous intent.
Cheondo.
Vivid black magic soars into the sky.
That power, unmistakable at first glance.
It’s the ability of Cheonma.
“Why, why…”
Both sleeves were torn, revealing blood-red arms.
Cheondo’s hands, looking as though they’re wearing red gloves, and her bare feet, were drenched in blood.
“The Young Demon.”
Those words immediately escape the lips of the hunter upon seeing her.
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