"I thought we weren't going to charge in," Ian grumbled, his spear spinning lazily in his hand as the three of us soared toward the Floating Castle. Mana swirled around us, a tangible force that bent to our will, carrying us upward with effortless precision.
"Scared already?" I shot back with a smirk, the kind of grin that had earned me no shortage of groans over the years.
"It's not fear," Jin interjected, his dark eyes sharp and calculating as they scanned the massive structure ahead. "It's strategy. Something you occasionally pretend to care about."
"Pretend?" I scoffed, glancing at Luna perched invisibly near my shoulder. "Strategy is knowing when brute force is just as effective."
Luna, for her part, simply hummed in agreement, her galaxy-like eyes shimmering faintly. "The castle isn't as fortified as it looks," she murmured. "A mid Immortal-ranker, a high Ascendant-ranker, and a motley crew of Integration-rankers. Manageable."
"They're nothing to worry about," I said aloud, shaking off Jin's side-eye glare. "We've handled worse."
"You sure about this? You've been burning mana like a pyromaniac," Ian noted, a flicker of concern cutting through his usual bravado.
"Had enough rest," I assured him, activating my spatial ring with a pulse of mana as Eclipse Blade materialized in my grip. The weapon sang softly, its blade swallowing light, a dark void streaked with the glimmer of eleven elements sparking to life along its edge. The sigils of Lucent Harmony flared on my arms, casting a silvery glow that pulsed with energy. Ancient-grade artifacts hummed to life, and Luna's qilinification took hold, my form sharpening with an ethereal edge.
We arrived at the castle's imposing gate, its intricately etched runes glowing faintly with protective mana. Two guards, both mid Integration-rankers, stepped forward, their stances rigid, hands gripping crude weapons.
"Move," I ordered flatly. My words weren't a request. Before they could react, I warped the space around us. In an instant, the guards crumpled from two swift strikes to their torsos, and we appeared inside the gate.
"Right, Ian," I said, nodding toward one corridor. "Your target's down that way."
Ian hefted his spear, his dragon aura flaring around him as he nodded. "Got it."
"Jin, you know the drill," I added, gesturing toward the shadows pooling in another hallway.
Jin grinned faintly, his form flickering as he melted into the darkness. "Always."
"And you?" Ian asked, pausing to glance over his shoulder.
"I'm heading for the big fish," I replied, summoning a seven-circle wind spell in my free hand. The orb whirled with violent intensity, hungry for release.
The spell shot forward, a shrieking tempest hurtling toward the castle's heart. The defensive array flared in response, a shimmering barrier of mana snapping into place just in time to absorb the impact. It held—for a moment.
"Nice try," I muttered, stepping forward. Eclipse Blade rose in my grip, its dark surface glowing with the interplay of ten elements, layered with a void-like emptiness. The sigils on my arms flared brighter as I poured despair into the blade—raw, unrelenting, the kind of hopelessness born of starvation and longing.
"Hollow Eclipse," I whispered, unleashing the sword's second movement.
The barrier disintegrated under the weight of my strike, shattering into glittering fragments that faded into nothing. The castle's interior was laid bare before me, the residual echoes of my attack vibrating through the walls.
Behind me, Ian's laughter rang out. "You really can't resist showing off, can you?"
I turned, a faint smirk tugging at my lips. "If you're good at something…"
"Finish the job first," Jin's voice echoed from the shadows, cutting off my retort.
"Gladly," I murmured, stepping into the castle's depths. The air felt alive, heavy with mana and the distant echoes of power. Somewhere within these halls, the so-called mid Immortal-ranker waited—a man who, by his arrogance, likely believed himself untouchable. I could hardly wait to disabuse him of the notion.
A shadow moved ahead, resolving into the figure of a man. He strode forward with the exaggerated confidence of someone who had never been challenged in his life. His dark robes billowed dramatically, and atop his head rested a black crown, adorned with a jewel that pulsed faintly with mana.
"Who dares?" His voice was sharp, grating, as though it were used to commanding without question. "Who dares to trespass and attack the great me?"
'The great me?' I thought, barely suppressing a snort.
"Well," I replied, tilting my head, "that depends. Who exactly is the great you?"
His eyes burned with indignation, his mana surging outward in waves as he raised his voice to a bellow. "How dare you speak to me with such insolence! I am the Demon King, the ruler of these lands and the pinnacle of all power!"
And that's when I almost lost it. My lips twitched as I struggled to keep my composure. Demon King? This guy? He wasn't even a demon.
I took a moment to breathe, letting my amusement settle into a sharper edge of focus. My Mind's Aegis split my consciousness into streams, processing his words and the implications at an accelerated rate. The conclusion was swift and obvious.
'We're in a time before even the Slatemark Empire.'
The absurdity of the situation made more sense now. This so-called "Demon King" was a mid Immortal-ranker—a respectable strength, sure, but not even close to what the title implied.
My eyes flicked to the crown on his head, and I began to piece things together. Back in this era, the term "Demon King" wasn't what it would later come to mean—the near apex of the demonic species, a being that could wipe continents from existence. No, here it was little more than a glorified title, a claim of dominance in a world that still thought mid Immortal-rankers were near-mythical figures.
I sighed inwardly, the pieces falling into place. This man's very existence confirmed our temporal displacement. This was the era of the Empire of Void, a time long before Julius Slatemark, the first Radiant-rank human, had even been born. Julius's rise had been the catalyst for Earth to truly catch the attention of demons—the real demons. Back now, humans squabbled among themselves, their power impressive for its time but laughable compared to what would come.
"So," I said finally, "you're the Demon King. The ruler of this castle. The strongest 'evil' in the land."
The man sneered. "And yet you still dare to stand before me."
"Oh, I dare," I replied lightly, spinning Eclipse Blade in my hand. Its dark edge shimmered faintly, the eleven elements waiting to be unleashed. "It's just that I've met actual demons. You're... not it."
His mana surged again, a sharp wave that rippled outward, bending the air and causing the stones beneath us to groan. To a lesser foe, it might have been impressive. Intimidating, even.
I simply tilted my head. "So, what's the plan? Gonna monologue a bit more, or are we skipping to the part where I put you in your place?"
The so-called Demon King roared, raising his hands as an intricate spell array bloomed into existence around him. The black jewel in his crown pulsed violently, feeding into the spell. Runes flared in a chaotic dance, promising destruction.
Ah, how quaint.
I activated my own array of artifacts, the sigils of Lucent Harmony on my skin flaring to life as they amplified the power surging through me. Luna's qilinification had sharpened my senses to a razor edge, and I allowed my own mana to rise in response. The room trembled as the two forces collided, the very air between us crackling with tension.
"You're bold," I admitted, stepping forward, Eclipse Blade igniting with a shroud of elemental fury. "Bold, but not nearly enough."
And then I moved.
The man before me was undoubtedly strong by the standards of this era. His mana surged in vibrant arcs, forming a glowing array of nine mana stars above him. It was an awe-inspiring sight, a symbol of power and dominance in his time. And yet, to me, it was painfully rudimentary.
The mana stars, while impressive in quantity, lacked refinement. They shimmered erratically, wasting energy with every pulse. His casting was sluggish, his control blunt, and his understanding of mana? Well, it was like comparing a blacksmith's hammer to a surgeon's scalpel.
This wasn't arrogance—it was reality.
'No wonder he thinks he's untouchable,' I thought, the faintest flicker of amusement crossing my mind. The "Demon King" was strong in a world where Julius Slatemark, the father of modern mana techniques, hadn't yet existed. The mana core system, the foundation of precision and efficiency, was generations away from discovery.