Chapter 21: Fighting the Demon General
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They quietly poured into the village from all directions. But when they noticed the two magicians standing in the center, the group of demons became bolder, no longer bothering to conceal their presence or aura.
The leader was not a wizard, but a warrior wielding a giant sword, clad in heavy armor, with two massive demon horns sprouting from his head.
Suddenly surrounded by this horde of demons, Ash and Frieren were instantly on high alert. Even the elves who had been sleeping peacefully in the village stirred, sensing the dangerous presence of these intruders who made no attempt to hide their power.
"Oh no... should I run?" Ash muttered, feeling the immense power radiating from the demon warrior leading them. He started to calculate how best to make a swift escape.
Hearing him, Frieren turned to glare at him sharply. "So this is your fault, isn't it?!"
"No, no, I don't think so... there shouldn't be any reason..." Ash stammered, genuinely confused. After all, he had spent most of his time in the southern countries, rarely encountering demons.
But if anyone had been offended, it certainly wasn't the elves. Could humans have hired demons to kill someone? Or perhaps the demons had learned of his refusal to join their ranks and decided to eliminate him? But then again, how many demons were actually interested in joining the demon king in the first place?
His puzzled expression made Frieren even more suspicious. "It was you, wasn't it?!"
"Huh? No, it shouldn't be... should it?" Ash was now uncertain himself.
Meanwhile, the massive demon warrior, who stood over five meters tall and brandished an enormous sword, spoke with a low, booming voice. This was Bazalt, a general of the Demon King's Throne.
"Human magician... this has nothing to do with you."
"Huh? It's not my problem?" Ash was surprised to hear that.
Bazalt, growing impatient, clarified, "The Demon King has ordered the extermination of all elves. Your life is irrelevant."
"Really? Thanks!" Ash grinned, turning to Frieren with a cheerful expression. "See? It's not about me—it's your problem."
"...Coward," Frieren muttered, not even bothering to look at him. Her focus remained on Bazalt. "If you want to flee, go ahead. Stop embarrassing yourself here."
"That's harsh. Do I really seem like that kind of person to you?"
"How would I know what kind of person you are? How long have I even known you?"
"We've known each other for two years."
"Only two years?"
"...Maybe I should just leave." Ash rubbed his face in frustration, casting a glance back at the demon general Bazalt, who stood with his sword at the ready.
Bazalt, clearly growing more irritable, grumbled, "I've told you already, it's your choice—leave or stay."
If it weren't for his current mission and the need to conserve his strength, Bazalt would have preferred to kill them both right then and there.
"Oh, forget it," Ash sighed. "I'm not like these cold-hearted elves. I've been living here for two years, so I've grown attached to the place."
"Is that so? Then—kill them all!" Bazalt's eyes gleamed with a chilling light, and without hesitation, he raised his giant sword high.
The demons instantly sprang into action, casting spells or charging forward with their weapons raised. Meanwhile, the villagers, jolted awake by the commotion, scrambled to organize their weapons or quickly prepared to cast defensive magic.
At that moment, Ash unsheathed the saber he always carried and stepped forward. "I'll take care of the big guy. You handle the rest."
"Really? That would help a lot," Frieren replied, a little surprised, but she raised her hand without hesitation. Instantly, lights of various colors began to illuminate the entire village as her magic took effect.
.....
"Pathetic, truly pathetic," Bazalt muttered as he observed Ash approaching with the saber in hand. Beneath his helmet, a sneer formed on his face. "A magician thinking he can fight a warrior with a sword? Are you begging for death?"
"No, you've misunderstood," Ash said calmly. "This is just for making it easier to harvest lives after using magic. I call it 'Reaper No. 7.'"
"...What nonsense is that?"
"Don't worry, it'll be over soon."
"You—you're mocking me, aren't you?!" Although Bazalt wasn't among the most famous or powerful generals, he was still a demon general. Being treated with such indifference in this small village enraged him.
"That's not it at all, I'm just—"
"——Die!!"
Bazalt, too angry to listen further, let his rage take over and raised his enormous sword, swinging it down with full force, aiming to crush Ash beneath its weight.
The massive blade sliced through the air with a deafening whistle.
Yet Ash didn't flinch, standing firm despite the sheer size difference between them. He swung his saber up to meet Bazalt's attack, intending to counter the blow.
BANG! The two weapons collided, sending a shower of sparks into the air.
Unable to resist Bazalt's overwhelming strength, Ash's body was forced backward, his feet digging two long trenches into the ground as he struggled to hold his ground.
"...The transformation worked, but even turning myself into a warrior, fighting a monster like this head-on isn't smart," Ash muttered, glancing at his hand gripping the saber.
Blood dripped from his thumb where the pressure had torn the skin.
In this world, the difference between a magician and a warrior lies in how magic is used to enhance one's body and attacks. The transformation spell, which Ash called "Reaper Mode," was supposed to make him a warrior. Yet, even with the transformation, he was still no match for this opponent.
But Bazalt, unaware of Ash's internal thoughts, instinctively took half a step back but felt deeply insulted when he saw Ash still standing.
"A mere human... a mere magician—!!"
With a roar, Bazalt swung his massive sword once more, creating a powerful wind as he aimed to cleave Ash in half.
But this time, Ash didn't dodge or flinch. He suddenly stomped on the ground with force.
The earth trembled violently, and purple lightning sparked around him, crackling with the force of gravity.
The ground within a six-meter radius around Ash began to fracture as if struck by an immense invisible force.
Bazalt's massive sword, entering the affected zone, was forced off course, missing Ash's head by mere millimeters. The blade only grazed his clothes before slamming into the ground like a thunderous cannon.
——BOOM!!!!
The ground, already weakened by Bazalt's immense weight and strength, finally crumbled, splitting apart from the force of the blow.