I can’t believe it.
Or rather, I don’t want to believe it.
This was the collective thought of the higher-ups gathered by the Demon Lord, solely to witness this scene.
The screen in the large hall displayed a live feed of the current selection process, as seen through the eyes of the familiars.
Every single person present was a powerful individual who had sent their chosen participants, individuals they believed would one day become generals.
“Impossible.”
That was probably why the words spilled out unintentionally.
This year’s selection had a total of 435 participants.
Compared to previous selection ceremonies, this number was undeniably the highest ever.
These participants were undoubtedly capable individuals, possessing both literary and martial prowess, fit to bear the future of the nation.
In other words, they were the cream of the crop, the rising stars of the Demon Lord’s Army.
They were the so-called elites, or the veterans.
To think that such beings were being mercilessly trampled by a single human… was this some kind of joke? A laugh?
Multiple candidates sent flying with a single stroke.
Candidates who had temporarily cooperated and unleashed a combined magic, only for him to break through it not by evading or cutting it down, but by relying on his own durability and magic resistance. Could anyone imagine such a thing?
Those who confronted him with their lives on the line, desperately trying to parry his blade, were met with the flash of his weapon before they could even strike, incinerated in an instant.
If this wasn’t a nightmare, what else could it be?
“…”
The overwhelming situation was such that no one even dared to scold the higher-up who accidentally let out a gasp, unable to accept reality.
While everyone present remained silent, only the Demon Lord smiled happily, and Evia, who stood behind him, simply remained motionless. Though their thoughts were unknown, it was clear that the higher-ups were not feeling good, whereas the Demon Lord and Evia harbored no ill feelings, at least.
“Well, it’s turning into quite a one-sided match, isn’t it?”
The Demon Lord spoke, his voice clearly audible to everyone present, unfazed by the stark difference in the atmosphere surrounding their emotions.
“No, it’s only just begun. We don’t know what will happen next.”
One of the higher-ups responded, doing his best to maintain a calm demeanor. No one questioned whether this was a pretense or genuine confidence.
“You’re right. Currently, he’s running wild alone. I don’t expect this to continue either.”
The Demon Lord shared the same opinion. Whether it was bravado or confidence, it didn’t matter. The fact was that it was convenient for the Demon Lord if Jiro Tanaka, who was favorably inclined towards him, emerged victorious.
However, that didn’t mean others couldn’t win. If he were to end up harboring a viper in his bosom, the Demon Lord possessed the capability to turn it to his advantage.
Simply put, it was a matter of convenience. If Jiro won, it would be less trouble. If someone else advanced, it would mean more work. That was all there was to it.
“However, I can’t predict what will happen if that expectation is overturned.”
That was why the Demon Lord could watch this spectacle with enjoyment. Regardless of the outcome, the only thing that remained was the effort required to obtain the resulting profit, so there was no loss for the Demon Lord. This was a reasonable interpretation for a leader of an organization. However, if it were a matter of personal preference, the situation would change.
Therefore, the Demon Lord watched the scene unfolding before him with a hint of anticipation. Currently, Jiro Tanaka was rampaging, plotting to lure out the Oni King or the Dragon King. If one thought about it normally, it was unlikely that such a spectacular display of power, involving the overuse of stamina, spirit, and magic, could be sustained. He seemed to be indiscriminately using powerful magic, engaging all opponents who came his way.
Even though the Demon Lord thought to himself that he would likely act similarly if he were in that situation, for an individual of ordinary talent, this was an utterly reckless act. If one were to set a standard for what was possible and impossible based on this footage, more than half of those present would surely declare it impossible.
“With all due respect, do you truly believe a human who acts so recklessly will win, my Lord?”
Jiro’s fighting style was clearly incredibly taxing, making it plausible for someone to question the Demon Lord’s optimistic outlook. The Demon Lord smiled gently and empathetically at one of his executives who, in his attempt to subtly voice his doubt, indirectly implied that it was impossible.
“I do. After all, he is the only General Candidate I personally prepared. I must place my expectations on him, mustn’t I?”
However, his expression and words were contradictory. To those present, and even to those in the distant territories who were awaiting the results, the Demon Lord, who had assessed the abilities of everyone sent, clearly declared his expectations. This Demon Lord, while favoring someone, would not lie. Everyone present knew for a fact that he would never favor someone lacking in ability. This, in turn, implied that this human possessed considerable talent.
The scene on the screen flickered as an explosion engulfed the venue once more. For a moment, the familiar’s view was obscured by dust, but what followed was the sight of a single human, who had just been surrounded by a large group in the forest, standing boldly amidst the wreckage.
As if affirming the Demon Lord’s words, he showcased his prowess with impeccable timing. While there were visible signs of dirt on him through the footage, there were no apparent physical injuries. He breathed steadily and had caused numerous participants to drop out.
“Hey, how many have dropped out from that?”
“I have no idea…”
The hall erupted in murmurs. Less than three hours had passed since the start, and by a rough estimate, it appeared more than half had been eliminated by this man. The three-day duration had been deemed short by some of the higher-ups, but at this pace, it could potentially end in just one day.
“What about you, Evia? Can you tell us the number of survivors?”
Joining the clamor, the Demon Lord asked Evia, who was standing by. She seemingly sent a telepathic message somewhere, making gestures as if confirming details.
“Currently, we have confirmed 118 survivors. This count does not include those who may be hiding, as the search is being conducted by familiars.”
“I see. So, ladies and gentlemen. Well, things seem to be progressing at a rather swift pace.”
“Also, it appears Raidou and Pascal are slowly making their way to the battle zone.”
The Demon Lord nodded with satisfaction at Evia’s response and then glanced at a new image appearing beside the central screen. The Oni King and the Dragon King, who had started at the northeastern and southwestern ends respectively, were slowly moving. The Oni King was walking slowly, while the Dragon King was methodically eliminating nearby participants. Despite the difference in their approach, their direction was towards the location shown in the central image.
“I see. Pascal seems to be closer, but he’s enjoying the battle, so he’ll be delayed. That means Raidou will likely engage him first?”
With a map displayed to indicate their approximate locations, the estimated travel times could also be grasped. Thus, the Demon Lord speculated that the battle between the Oni King and Jiro might commence sooner than he thought.
“No, that might not be the case.”
Evia denied this.
“Currently, the Oni King Raidou seems to be engaging in fewer battles, but there are signs that he is setting up a formation ahead to take down Raidou.”
As if to point out the reason, she displayed something in Raidou’s path.
“Oh! What a magnificent Golem!”
“No, and the dragon summoned next to it is quite impressive as well.”
“Even more so, the formation constructed using the advantageous terrain is truly remarkable!”
Several people in the hall began to exclaim upon seeing the scene. These were likely the sponsors of the individuals responsible. They were likely powerful individuals sent out with the confidence that they could defeat the Oni King Raidou. Indeed, what was displayed were ten colossal Golems, each exceeding twenty meters in total length, twelve colossal dragons of comparable size, and, on top of that, a robust fortress that seemed to disregard the possibility of being conquered. It was an excessive amount of force against what was essentially a single individual. Therefore, their confident pronouncements were understandable.
“I see, then let’s see their skill.”
However, from the Demon Lord’s perspective, this was merely that, and it was undeniably insufficient. He acknowledged that it was a considerable force for an individual to assemble, in terms of both quality and quantity. Yet, if asked whether someone who could create such a force on the fly was fit to be a general, the Demon Lord would definitively say no. At most, thirty minutes. If he were to hypothetically fight, even holding back, that would be about how long it would take to break through. No, he could annihilate them, he thought to himself, but he outwardly declared it with a false sense of enjoyment.
“Yes, please do watch.”
How many, he wondered, as he surveyed his surroundings without being noticed, would turn pale with dismay within an hour due to the excitement of one of the higher-ups? About thirty percent, he could tell from their expressions. Most of that thirty percent had taken Jiro Tanaka’s existence seriously and had been preparing countermeasures. The remaining seventy percent were complacent. As he had received prior reports indicating that the majority underestimated Jiro’s strength, the Demon Lord considered the necessity of a mental shift for the higher-ups. Praying that this selection ceremony would serve as a potent catalyst, the Demon Lord then quietly prompted the viewing to continue.
With the Demon Lord, the leader, watching silently, the surrounding murmurs seemed to subside. However, while everyone was focused on the Oni King’s location, did anyone notice the subtle change that occurred on Jiro’s screen? Jiro’s gaze was fixed intently in one direction. After confirming that he had cleared out the surrounding enemies, the Demon Lord noticed that Jiro continued to stare in the same direction without averting his gaze. Slowly, he raised his weapon and began to condense magic power of a density so high that it was perceptible even through the screen. Some of the higher-ups, noticing Jiro’s movement, wore expressions of suspicion, wondering what he was doing, while others, perhaps anticipating what was to come, questioned if it was even possible. The Demon Lord, however, was not concerned with possibility; he was waiting to see what Jiro would do, exclaiming internally with joy.
It took one minute. But how difficult was it to imagine the power of a strike that a capable individual had “charged” for a full minute? It was difficult to imagine the power of a strike accumulated and released by a being capable of wounding even the Demon Lord. It couldn’t be used in close combat. But what about as a long-range attack? The gradually swelling magic power affected the surrounding environment, and the released magic caused the very earth to groan. The Demon Lord, intently watching the scene, deciphered the name Jiro chanted through lip-reading, utilizing his astonishing physical perception.
“Amaterasu.”
It was the same name Jiro had unleashed upon the Demon Lord when they sparred previously. At that time, it was a close-quarters, single-stroke technique. But in an environment devoid of enemies, what was the meaning of such an attack? The Demon Lord did not question it.
“Sunrise!!”
Indeed, the strike, which shone like the sunrise, was swung down towards the Oni King’s location. It was an attack that obliterated all obstacles in its path, a light that ravaged the earth with the momentum of its descent. No one in the hall could ignore the roar that followed. By the time everyone looked at the screen to see what had happened, the attack, which had traveled an immeasurable distance without diminishing, had entered each of their eyes. The higher-ups who had just praised the participants were no exception; they were left with their mouths agape in disbelief as the impressive formation of their favored participants was instantly devastated by the attack. Not only that, but the colossal strike continued its path, reaching the Oni King and nearly striking him down. However, he met Jiro’s unleashed attack head-on with his fist. A single blow. As if to inform the onlookers of the power of his fist, the Oni King’s blow, unleashed in a wide arc, not only avoided being swallowed by the light but also repelled and nullified the attack. A strike that had ravaged the earth. A strike that had nullified it. Despite being a single exchange, it silenced everyone present. The moment the Demon Lord understood the meaning of that exchange, he let out a loud laugh, which was uncharacteristic of him.
“What a flashy invitation!!”
Jiro had said that to the Oni King Raidou. *I’ve found you. I’m here.* The Demon Lord, for the first time in a long time, laughed wholeheartedly, thinking that this was his greeting.
Today’s Word:
What comes before and after the result, only time will tell.
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I am currently serializing another work: Pandora Pandemic Panic. The box of Pandora has been opened again, but we are fighting back with various means from our secret base! Please check it out as well!
