A comet fallen to earth. The worst genius born from the Military Nation.
Despite the grandiose epithets attached, Erzebüt was indifferent.
The reason was simple. It was her first time hearing the name Rankart.
"A name I've never heard before. You must be some famous figure from a certain region? Unfortunately, I don't bother storing worthless people in my memory."
Even if he was a historic genius born from the Military Nation with its meager thirty-odd years of history, compared to the cast of characters Erzebüt had encountered, it was a drop in the ocean. Authority comes from history. Regional representatives and such weren't even in Erzebüt's sight. For Erzebüt, who occasionally appeared even in history books, there was no reason to remember some vagabond magician.
Ignored right before his eyes, Rankart was more bewildered than angry.
"Worthless person? Are you talking about me?"
"Of course. Magicians may believe they're special... but in the end, you're just one among the many magicians underfoot. Your self-important attitude is laughable."
Arrogant, but an Elder is a being worthy of such. Erzebüt thoroughly mocked the self-important magician, but... Rankart tilted his head and asked back.
"Even so, you're just a 'right-hander' who submitted to the Progenitor and rode that flow, aren't you?"
Right-hander?
Erzebüt tilted her head at the title she heard for the first time in her life. As he said, Erzebüt was right-handed. Just looking at the hand holding the fan proved it was her right hand. But the right-hander the magician spoke of likely didn't mean the dominant hand. Erzebüt asked.
"What does right-hander mean?"
"The trend. The flow. The atmosphere. Or power. Whatever you think of it doesn't matter. In the end, you're a person who 'follows.' Whether you were born a right-hander, or were made into one, it doesn't matter."
It was nonsensical talk. Then again, magicians were eccentrics who delved to the extremes of their own mental worlds. Erzebüt had no reason to understand such an eccentric's thoughts, nor any need to. Erzebüt decided to kill him and reached out her right hand. The hand holding the red folding fan touched the domain of the Inherent Demon Path.
At that moment, Erzebüt vaguely recalled the past.
She was once a noble of a certain country. As a noble, one must properly learn etiquette and conduct. Parents with children even hired tutors to strictly educate them in etiquette.
'Erzebüt. You are truly perfect.'
'There's nothing left to teach.'
'If only my children could follow even half of you...'
Erzebüt was the model student among model students. Everyone praised and envied her. Among them were left-handers too.
'Child! How many times must I tell you not to use the wrong hand!'
'I should just tie up your hand!'
Inferior students who were particularly clumsy with the right hand they should mainly use, and thus couldn't keep up with classes properly. Existences misaligned from the start.
Just because the left hand is more dexterous, one cannot live using the left hand. Using the left hand at the dining table would cause collisions with right-handers, and difficulties would arise in writing and reading.
Above all, being different from others was in itself a massive disqualification. Rather than living like that, it was better to properly correct it and present them to the world.
Like that, one by one, left-handers disappeared and created right-handers filled their places. Erzebüt sympathized with and despised those who, after much time and effort, finally stood at the starting point. From a place far ahead of them.
Erzebüt was a born right-hander. Always a right-hander. Rather than going against the trend, she rode at the very front and took the profit, and she was proud of that fact.
"In a world you cannot understand, the world turns to the right."
As she suddenly reminisced about the past, the magician's voice reached her ears.
"The universe looked down upon by inept sages. The sapling that grew the tree of sin. Or just the masses of humans who use their right hands. They set the 'superior right' and make everything turn only that way. Why is that? Because it's superior? No, that can't be. Left and right are completely the same, only different in direction."
"Livestock daring to..."
Inside Rankart's Inherent Demon Path, blood and wind were swirling. Erzebüt shot out blood energy to swallow the swirl whole. The blood energy rising from the folding fan went against the Inherent Demon Path and tried to devour Rankart.
"But, if they're clearly equal, why did all the left disappear and only the right remain? The reason is simple."
Whether the Elder was aiming for his life, or the blood energy was trying to consume his body, Rankart didn't care and continued his explanation.
"Because there are more right-handers."
Erzebüt's figure was slammed into the windmill wall. The blood flow that deflected in an arc destroyed one wall of the windmill and brought it crumbling down.
The windmill, having lost its support, crashed down. The gears misaligned, and the giant mechanical device fell over Rankart's head.
Even during all this, Rankart was calm.
"Right-handers and left-handers collide and disappear. When they pair up and annihilate one by one over a long time, eventually only right-handers remain. Why? Because there are more of them. It's a phenomenal survival of the fittest. Even nature, which appears great, ultimately only passes down the rules that survived."
Thud, thud, thud. Even the falling debris brushed past Rankart's body. The swirl surrounding him protected Rankart from all attacks, whether from above or below. Rankart leisurely clenched his right hand and looked down at Erzebüt.
"My Inherent Demon Path, the world of right-handers destroys and annihilates all left according to that rule. The swirl is merely the result. In the world of right-handers, I am god. Something like you who rode the flow can't even dare to touch my collar."
Rankart and his Inherent Demon Path were thoroughly mocking Erzebüt as a coward who followed the trend and clung to the strong. It was such a piercing truth that Erzebüt, her pride wounded, spread her blood energy again and shouted.
"Throwing your weight around with just one Inherent Demon Path! Let's see if you can still spout the same nonsense when you're drenched in blood from head to toe!"
Erzebüt noisily folded her fan and grabbed it with both hands, twisting it. From the fan twisted like a dry towel, blood gushed out. If her power couldn't reach, she intended to fill the space itself with blood energy.
Rankart clicked his tongue seeing the gradually rising blood energy.
"Tsk. I kindly explained because you're an Elder.... But you're behind the times and don't even try to understand. This is why the ignorant masses don't work. Even an Elder, the ignorant masses are still the ignorant masses. No, worse. Ignorant masses who weren't eliminated and still survived."
There are two ways to deal with a magician who has constructed their own absolute ideology. Surprise attack, or overwhelming power.
Historically, magicians were often killed vainly by surprise attacks, but the Elder was one of the few beings who could kill magicians with overwhelming power. Erzebüt, possessing overflowing blood energy, was the Elder who could most easily kill magicians, excluding Valdmir and Muri.
The problem was that the opponent was also not an ordinary magician.
"Disqualified. Ignorant masses."
Rankart, who had been standing still until now, took a step - a light yet heavy step toward Erzebüt.
Rankart's Inherent Demon Path centered on him. He was the core of the swirl, the eye of the storm. The eye of the storm, which should have moved as heavily as its majesty and weight, turned toward Erzebüt.
How grateful that a mere magician would approach first. Erzebüt reached out her arm toward the approaching Rankart. Erzebüt was also a vampire who had learned blood energy techniques. A frail magician could be crushed the moment she touched them.
If she could reach them, that is.
Crack. Erzebüt's arm was bent roundly. From the eye of the storm, Rankart's vortex was impossibly powerful.
"There's no value in conversing with outdated losers, so go call your Progenitor. Since I've come this far, I should see the face of the newly born Demon God."
"You...!"
All power directed at Rankart brushed past him. Conversely, if Rankart moved toward something, he could deflect that something. Even if that something was an Elder.
Rankart didn't directly strike Erzebüt. He merely made a gesture of picking her up and throwing her with an invisible arm.
It was impossible, but his Inherent Demon Path made illusion into reality. The swirl winding around his arm swept across the ground.
"Right Arm of the Giant."
Erzebüt and her blood energy, grazed by the swirl, surged up as if sucked into the void. Movement closer to being launched than flying. Because the extreme point of the vortex came to her on its own, Erzebüt flew away fiercely without even a gap to respond.
Erzebüt, who disappeared in an instant, now looked like a red cloud. Rankart watched Erzebüt disappearing in the distance from within the ruined windmill.
"It'll take a while for her to return. Now then, shall we have a conversation, just the two of us?"
Despite having repelled an Elder alone, Rankart turned his body without any particular excitement.
"Where is Hui?"