What I, Balter, demanded to stop the assassins was twofold.
Firstly, choosing beings who would follow my orders unto death.
And secondly, retrieving Jade, who had been locked away in the underground prison.
Naturally, this was to crush the assassins by force.
The moment I brought this up with Jade, retrieved from there—
Jade, who had been vigorously traversing the world even after I died, spoke thus.
“My liege. If that is the case, I dare say, they will certainly use Blood Demon Magic.”
“Blood Demon Magic….”
I was inwardly surprised.
The reason I repeated those three words was truly quite simple.
Blood Demon Magic was a unique magic that only I could use in my previous life.
Because it was an “exclusive patent” that I had released into the world by distorting, with my personal skill alone, the existing demonic energy that the evil spirit possessed.
So it was laughable enough that they were using it.
But to think the ones using it were demon bastards.
“You must find it both surprising and absurd. However, the effects were quite excellent. It has been 300 years since my lord briefly stepped away. The Demon King took note of your power and made it his royal guard’s own.”
“Ahh, so that means the assassins close to him are also highly likely to use Blood Demon Magic. …That cowardly bastard. Still as capable as ever.”
“It is not merely a hunch. I have constantly seen those assassin bastards using Blood Demon Magic. But they are all merely crude imitations. You need not be too wary.”
It felt like just yesterday that I had been helplessly fleeing, tail between my legs, from the magic I had created to kill them.
The passage of 300 years seemed to have been enough time for the enemy to coldly evaluate me and take my methods for his own.
Therefore.
I knew all too well how they would ruin this festival using Blood Demon Magic.
Because there was only one method.
Using the most fundamental of fundamentals of Blood Demon Magic, “Blood Transference,” making many people explode was hardly a difficult task.
Of course, there might be various other area-wide approaches.
But even those ultimately did not deviate from the fundamental core of Blood Transference.
Thus, I could easily find a way to identify them.
“Come to think of it, Jade, I don’t think I asked. You can use Blood Demon Magic as well, can’t you?”
“O Sword Demon. From the moment you called me the Blood Curved Jade, my existence has been for that very purpose.”
And the Blood Apostles raised through battles alongside me could naturally use Blood Demon Magic.
“No wonder. I had a feeling from the moment I saw you. Then you must naturally be able to sense the flow of mana in those who use it.”
“Of course. Those bastards feel similar to us, yet give off a degraded and crude flow.”
“Then do not reveal yourself to people. Climb the bell tower overlooking the entire city and identify all those emitting such a flow.”
“And I shall send a signal to my lord.”
And so Jade, who had said he would aid me,
truly hid and climbed the bell tower, accurately pinpointing their positions.
And then.
Ziiiiing—!!
“…A resonance heading east. So he really is that Jade bastard.”
As befitting his original name—the “Blood Curved Jade.”
He informed me of the enemy’s location with the howling of the jade that only I could hear.
At first, I had slightly doubted whether he was an ally,
but to this extent, it seemed Jade truly followed me.
And sure enough.
At the place I arrived at thusly.
“I can see traces of trying to hide, but can that fool my nose? Seeing as his aura pressure alone is traveling on a different trajectory, that’s the one.”
In the heart of the festival disguised as the venue for my appearance,
there was a cruel hulk of a man trying to unleash a massacre by killing an innocent child from behind.
Creak—.
“—Who goes there?!”
Thus.
Showing no mercy, I snatched the sword thrust behind him.
“Who else but the master of the magic you were trying to use.”
Swoosh…!
Just as I had done to Yeret, I struck down on his wrist and snatched it,
grasping that sword in my hand.
And what I naturally saw upon the sword was a fang tattoo.
The very thing that had been engraved on my hand when I harbored the evil spirit in my body,
and that was said to be engraved on all the Blood Apostles.
And the moment I gripped it tight in my hand.
“…So this is it? No wonder they said it was crude. They can’t even follow at my heels.”
Even though I had never handled such a replica before.
I instinctively realized how to control its power.
Why, you ask?
After all, Blood Demon Magic is no different from something I created myself, is it not?
A conclusion drawn without insight or contemplation
is merely imitation, and its level is shoddy.
To me, who had the experience of forging something from nothing in the past, an object that only sought to imitate me like this was something I could easily understand with a laugh.
Then.
Though he had been unable to hide his momentum even when I looked behind, seeing him from the front, he was clearly someone quite powerful even among assassins.
“………!!”
The moment his identity was exposed to me,
without changing a single expression, he tried to kill me as if crushing a bug.
Bwoong—!!
And what flew at me was not even a weapon,
but fingernails cruelly sharpened to a razor edge.
As they flew at me,
the thought that I would die helplessly if even one blow landed on this body made me flinch.
Bones and all, anything overlapping with the trajectory created by that arm would be sliced without form and crushed.
However.
I had long since carved away any emotion of hesitation from my mind.
Without any particular worry, just as I had always done.
Yes.
Just as I had always fought as the Sword Demon.
I firmly slashed my wrist.
Fwoosh—!!
Then.
An artery tore, and red blood jetted out around me.
The agony was tremendous, but I endured it.
“Wha…?!”
The moment I did so.
Bewilderment flickered across the bastard’s face, who had been launching dry, emotionless attacks brimming with killing intent.
The surging wave of fresh blood halted in mid-air, matching his confusion.
Yes.
Literally, it stopped in mid-air.
The momentum my heart had pumped out had nearly vanished.
All due to the flow of highly refined mana.
Ziiiiik—!
Soon, that dark red blood instantly accelerated and boiled up like lava.
Before his arm could reach me, it surged and crashed into him.
Then.
An unpleasant stench of dissolving protein filled the air.
“K-kuaaaaaaaack—!!!”
The assassin, whose very existence seemed dry, let out a bizarre scream as though it were his first time ever.
“How does the taste of Blood Transference you were trying to use feel? It does not merely require another’s blood. It is perfectly possible with your own.”
“Hot, h-hot—!!”
“Well, if you cannot control blood. Tearing your own artery would be no different from suicide.”
Then.
When I spun the sword a couple of times to refine the mana flow,
my blood, which had instantly boiled and melted his skin, instantly lowered its temperature and returned to me following my command.
And it burrowed back into the torn artery as if diving inside,
cauterizing the wound to close it and staunching the bleeding.
Then the assassin, who had become scorched as if thrown into a blast furnace, writhed in agony from the burning heat that even melted the lenses of his eyes, and yet—
for a moment, he suddenly made an expression of doubt.
That was surely
wondering how I knew
that Blood Transference could be used like this.
But it was not something I couldn’t answer.
“I am the very master of this magic. What I am doing now is merely collecting a usage fee.”
“Captain…!”
And then, at some point,
among the citizens trying to flee this bizarre spectacle,
unable to bear seeing one of their own in such agony, one of the assassins hurriedly rushed out to rescue him.
Fwoooosh—.
“Ugh, aaaaaack!!”
I roasted him to a crisp in a similar manner as well.
This seemed like quite useful information.
“To think the first one I dealt with was the captain. What luck.”
Then surely, among his belongings, there must be an item to contact the other assassins.
And so, at the bastard’s waist that I searched—
sure enough, there was an old magical communicator that seemed to have been used by those demon army bastards for 300 years.
I roughly pulled it out, tapped it, and brought it to my mouth.
“Desert.”
From beyond the crackling transmission, something like a passphrase came through.
Well, it wasn’t as if I could know such things anyway.
“…Now, prove your use.”
“Hoooot!! Hoooot, aaaaaack—.”
Other than the already dead captain,
I brought the communicator to the mouth of the assassin burning beside me, letting all who listened hear the screams.
Then I brought it to my own mouth,
shouting in a voice that sounded completely desperate.
“Mission failed—!! Everyone, retreat to the West Gate!!”
After letting them hear such terrible screams of a person burning at the very start,
if anyone hearing this suspects that the one who seized the communicator is bluffing, I’ll give them credit.
And.
To the citizens watching all of this around me,
I gestured roughly and spoke.
“Thank you for coming to enjoy the festival. I am Balter, and I am putting down the chaos in the estate. You citizens need not worry and may go about your business.”
More nonchalant than anyone.