We live at the foothills of Dragon Peak.
Sorcery
The silver world until then was instantly dyed purgatory red.
Snow, atmosphere, sky. Everything in the Heavenly Mountain Range was burning.
I stopped the Dragon Sword Dance and stood in a world dominated by flames.
When the storm of dragon energy subsided, the flames that had been violently blowing sideways extended their fiery reach directly above.
The sparks that danced and rose burned away the clouds, ascending to the heavens.
“Fairy Demon Lord Kusharilla. This battle is our victory!”
Looking up at the sky, I uttered a declaration of victory.
However, Kusharilla, even while engulfed in flames, seemed amused and denied my words.
“What gibberish. You think I would die by burning from mere flames? Rather, shouldn’t you be worried about yourself? If this continues, it will be you who burns to death.”
Yes, I know.
No matter how high the temperature, no matter how brightly they burn, I cannot burn Kusharilla.
However, Kusharilla’s words contain an error.
While regulating my ragged breathing, I, in turn, denied Kusharilla’s words.
“No, I won’t burn. Don’t you know? The flames of sorcery burn what they wish to burn and protect what they wish to protect.”
I know without looking back.
I can feel it without being conscious of it.
These sorcery flames that burn the Heavenly Mountain Range are from the Eastern Magician.
“I’ll say it again. This battle is our victory!”
Kusharilla’s presence, which had been purring like a rattling throat until now, changed.
Perhaps irritated by my strong words, she expanded her killing intent more than ever before.
In response to Kusharilla’s killing intent, miasma brewed.
However, the miasma, too, was burned by the sorcery flames and ascended to the heavens.
“I, lose to you?”
“No. It’s not you who will lose. It’s the Demon Race that will lose.”
Kusharilla must have realized it too.
These flames are burning everything in the Heavenly Mountain Range.
Yes, the demons who are not present here, as well.
“Even if you fight valiantly, you cannot do more if you lack subordinates or an army to lead. You might win against me, but you will lose the larger war.”
Well, I wouldn’t lose so easily myself, I thought, gripping the Spirit Tree Wooden Sword in my left hand.
Kusharilla, accepting my words, turned her attention back to the battlefield.
The rising flames dyed everything in sight crimson, turning the Heavenly Mountain Range into a burning hell.
In the distance, battles were still raging.
Demons in black attire, who appeared by leaping through shadows, were screaming as they were burned by the sorcery flames.
This was truly a scene of utter chaos.
Surely, in other parts of the Heavenly Mountain Range, over a hundred thousand demons must be fleeing and burning in these flames.
However, there were indeed higher demons who continued to exist, unfazed by the fierce flames.
The Black Ogres, who called themselves the Black Ogre Squad, were fiercely fighting Slaton and his forces, seemingly unaffected by the burning flames.
But, their movements had become sluggish.
They were wasting enormous amounts of magic power to reject the flames.
Their attention could not be focused solely on Slaton and his forces, their coordination broke down, and their attacks became fewer.
Conversely, Slaton and his forces, protected by the flames, began to show a sense of ease.
A demon wielding a great black staff unleashed magic. However, before reaching the intended target, Duranel, the magic was engulfed by the flames and disappeared.
An ogre wielding a great battle axe closed the distance. Just then, Louvent approached, hidden by the flames that had ascended to the sky, and caught him by surprise.
The flames roared like thunder, making Louvent’s divine pronouncements inaudible.
Writhing in frustration, the ogre with the great battle axe shifted to a defensive stance.
A Black Ogre who fell into Toris’s trap and became a cursed magic sword user was slashing at his comrades while his entire body burned.
An already troublesome opponent had become even more of a nuisance.
Among the wicked and strongest survive demons, was there a sense of camaraderie?
The other Black Ogres stood by, unable to act against the rampaging magic sword user.
“How hateful. To be hindered by mere humans again.”
Hmph.
As long as you look down on us humans, you will continue to be tripped up from below.
Kusharilla shifted her attention from the Black Ogre Squad to the edge of the cliff.
There stood the Eastern Magician, supported by Listea.
His presence was weak, as if he could fade away at any moment.
Surely, without Listea’s support, he wouldn’t even be able to stand.
That, dying Eastern Magician, was cornering the demons.
With terrifying sorcery, he was attempting to burn away the over a hundred thousand demons who had invaded the Heavenly Mountain Range.
“Is a supporting character who has finished their role, once again appearing on stage? A dying struggle from a failure to die is not fitting for the stage.”
Perhaps he used telepathy.
One of the Black Ogres left the battlefield. And then, he ran up the narrow rocky path extending to the cliff.
“He’s going to aim for the Eastern Magician!”
I wonder if my voice reached the Eastern Magician and Listea.
I hope it reaches them, carried by the flames.
Even if not, if the danger is conveyed through Nimia…
Perhaps my thoughts were conveyed, as there was movement in front of the cave.
Listea raised her Holy Sword, which was broken and its gem removed.
You don’t mean, you’re going to confront him with that Holy Sword!?
I began to gather dragon energy to provide assistance.
However, my help was not needed.
The Holy Sword shone redder than the crimson flames burning the Heavenly Mountain Range.
The Holy Sword, shining hotter than the midsummer sun, was imbued with power from the Eastern Magician standing beside it.
Even from a distance, I could feel the heat on my skin.
Kusharilla, too, forgot to attack me and turned her attention to the cliff edge.
That’s how extraordinary the power that was being activated was.
The Holy Sword, emitting the radiance of the sun, gradually began to regain its outline.
The thick blade, a bit too large to wield with one hand, possessed both the sturdiness to withstand the Hero’s power and the sharpness to cleave through iron.
Beyond the radiance of the sun, the Holy Sword’s blade was being revived.
I could no longer tell where it had been broken.
It should have been broken in the middle of the blade, but my eyes clearly reflected the Holy Sword all the way to the tip.
Ah, I see. Only now do I understand the origin of the Eastern Magician’s name.
That is no longer sorcery.
It has reached a new level beyond the realm of sorcery, a level that touches the principles of the world.
Sorcery that interferes with the world.
Dragon Arts that reproduce imagined visions.
Magic that turns natural phenomena into destruction.
Divine Arts that make words reality.
The Eastern Magician’s art has reached a domain that surpasses such arts.
Through the incantation sung and hummed, he reproduced destruction that burns even snow into reality.
This is no longer sorcery.
It can no longer be called sorcery.
And if the sorcery, a fragment of the Goddess’s power, is “holy,” then her art, which rewrites the world created by the Goddess, is “demonic.”
In other words, demonic magic.
Demonic magic is a new art that transcends the unique arts of each race.
No, that’s not quite right.
It is a high-dimensional art that encompasses all of the race-specific arts.
But isn’t this stepping into the realm of forbidden techniques!?
After all, the horrors of demonic magic are not limited to this.
As seen in the revival of the Holy Sword, one can materialize what they desire through demonic magic.
Like the great eagle that carried us.
Like the iron cage created to prevent escape.
The Holy Sword has now been revived.
Listea wields the revived Holy Sword without hesitation.
With a whoosh, the flames swirled.
The demon running up the narrow rocky path opened his eyes in astonishment.
Even though he was far from reach. Even though the revived Holy Sword’s tip should not be able to reach him.
The Black Ogre, with a look of astonishment on his face, vanished, burned by the sun’s flames.
Listea, who had cleaved the demon in two, gazed again at the Holy Sword in her right hand.
The Holy Sword’s blade existed all the way to the tip, without any chips.
“You did well, Listea.”
I smiled.
And with one worry resolved, I turned my attention back to my own stage.
“Now, let’s bring this stage to a conclusion. Of course, with our victory as the finale.”
At my words, Kusharilla also turned her attention back to me.
For Kusharilla, the revival of the Holy Sword must have been unexpected. No, not just that. She probably didn’t expect her subordinate, a high-ranking demon, to be defeated so easily.
With the full support of demonic magic, Listea could now fight even high-ranking demons.
On the cliff edge, the Hero shone brilliantly like the sun.
However, for Kusharilla, the revival of the Holy Sword was none of her concern.
But, if she couldn’t eliminate the Eastern Magician who was burning the Heavenly Mountain Range, the Demon Race Army would truly be defeated by demonic magic.
Finally realizing the direness of the situation, Kusharilla unleashed her magic power.
The sheer release of her magic power scattered the flames that colored the world.
“Kch. To think he still had this much power hidden!”
My heart sank with fear at Kusharilla’s magic power, which sought to surpass even magic that surpassed magic.
But I can’t just be pushed back like this!
If Kusharilla and the demons regain their strength here, all the effort and hardship so far will have been meaningless.
Besides, I had found a countermeasure.
No, I’m sorry.
I remembered.
I hadn’t forgotten.
But I had convinced myself that it was an option unavailable to me at the moment, and hadn’t considered it.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Took you long enough.”
“Well then, here we go!”
At my muttering, Ares-chan nodded approvingly from within me.
The leaves of the Spirit Tree Wooden Sword’s guard shook energetically, raising a cheer.
“Now, I’ll show you the real Dragon Sword Dance!”
I poured all my dragon energy into the Spirit Tree Wooden Sword gripped in my left hand.
At the same time, I deeply focused my consciousness into my right hand.
The Eastern Magician had already shown me the answer.
I had seen a similar phenomenon during the Dragon Peak turmoil.
I had learned in the depths of the Dragon Forest that it was a special event, but not an exceptional one.
And, unconsciously, I had reproduced it several times in the past.
My clenched right hand.
As if my closed palm was being pushed open, “it” revealed its presence.
With the same mass as the White Sword, a heavy load settled onto my right hand.
“What, a human calling forth a Spirit Sword?”
It was no wonder Kusharilla was surprised.
In my right hand, I held the Spirit Tree Spirit Sword, shining brilliantly green.
The White Sword is not here.
The Soul Spirit Seat cannot be drawn.
But I had one more sword.
A Spirit Sword materialized with the aid of the Spirit Tree’s power.
The treasure sword that the Spirit King wielded, releasing the power of the spirits.
“Everyone, sorry to keep you waiting! Now, let’s dance!”
I danced the Dragon Sword Dance.
I wasn’t just dancing the Dragon Sword Dance idly until now.
This is the Heavenly Mountain Range.
Even though it was before mid-winter, snow was carried by the cold wave blowing from the northwest, dyeing the land a silver world in this frigid region.
Because of that, not many spirits resided here.
Do spirits feel the cold too?
Or is the influence of the snow and ice spirits so strong that other spirits cannot approach?
If so, I just need to call them!
First, I will offer the Dragon Sword Dance to the native snow and ice spirits and obtain permission to call other elemental spirits.
Once I have permission, I just need to dance happily and draw the spirits.
Performing the Dragon Sword Dance on a grand scale to get the attention of distant spirits.
No matter how desperately we fight, it will appear enjoyable to the spirits.
The world of spirits was now bustling with the spirits gathered by my Dragon Sword Dance.
Especially the Fire Spirits.
Stirred up by the Eastern Magician’s flames, the Fire Spirits were running around energetically.
The resident snow and ice spirits also joined in, cheering to burn and freeze.
But they looked a little dissatisfied.
After all the trouble of gathering, the organizer, me, was not moving well.
The Dragon Sword Dance performed with only the Spirit Tree Wooden Sword was halfway done.
But that’s different now.
With the Spirit Sword in my right hand, I danced the Dragon Sword Dance with perfect movements.
The Spirit Tree Spirit Sword invigorates the spirits.
“Hateful, human brat!”
Kusharilla attacked me, filled with killing intent.
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