Chapter 61: Who is More Evil?·Half a Century Has Come in the Blink of an Eye
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It wasn't at the moment of being attacked, but when he encountered Serie that Ash had a premonition he was in big trouble.
Under the cover of the explosion and smoke, he dashed into the kitchen without a word, smearing some blood on himself to make his injuries appear worse in hopes of gaining some sympathy. However...
"Tsk... Did she actually see through it?" Even though his act had been exposed, he wasn't embarrassed in the slightest—after all, the other party was this cunning individual. Smacking his lips, he muttered, "The old ones really are the wisest. That saying makes so much sense."
"You don't have to resist so much. I won't force you," Serie tried to persuade him with a gentle tone, attempting to appeal to his better nature. But…
"Then I refuse." Without a moment's hesitation, he declined bluntly and unapologetically.
Serie's expression, which had softened a bit, immediately grew cold again. "...What do you mean by that? Rejecting me so quickly—are you not even going to give me the slightest respect?"
"Uh… Well…" After a brief pause, he looked around, then took out a scrap of paper and a pen from the rubble, scribbling a series of words before handing it over respectfully.
"What's this?" Serie took the paper, frowning after only a quick glance.
The note read:
> [As I take up my pen, my heart is filled with gratitude and admiration.
Since I began learning magic, I have been deeply grateful for Master's careful guidance. Not only have you taught me all you know about magic, but you have also given me endless inspiration on how to live with honor.
Your wisdom, patience, and noble character are like a beacon illuminating my path forward. I am beyond words in expressing my gratitude for all your efforts.
Yet, after careful reflection, when I face the precious legacy you wish to pass to me, my heart is filled with complex emotions and inner struggles…]
The entire note was basically flattery—loaded with flowery and insincere clichés that made Serie's head throb.
She glanced between the letter and his overly polite smile, her mouth twisting with irritation. In the next instant, she tore the note into pieces, threw it to the ground, and snapped, "What have you been doing these past thousand years? Learning aristocratic nonsense? Spare me this rubbish and just say it to my face!"
"Then I refuse."
"You, you...!"
Serie's face darkened dangerously. Sensing he might have pushed too far, Ash quickly rose, crouched down in front of her, and placed his hands gently on her shoulders, his expression suddenly solemn. "Actually, we can talk this out peacefully. Or… maybe take a moment to calm down first?"
"Oh? I'm listening. What else do you have to say?"
"Well... isn't it obvious?" He glanced at her. "What's the point of all this?"
"What do you mean?"
"Of course, I refused. Why should I take over this mess? That farewell note wasn't meant for me, right?" Facing Serie's warning glare, he went on, almost lecturing her. "Look, I'm not saying anything against you personally, but just handing over Flamme's legacy to someone else isn't wise! If things go south, her spirit—"
"I've already tested your strength," Serie interrupted. "An ordinary first-level magician would've been finished by now. This isn't a casual matter. You have potential—trust yourself."
"...Aren't you afraid I might still fail?" He asked, then, as if he didn't care to hear her response, sighed and continued, "Let's set this aside for now. Honestly, I have my own matters to attend to. There's really no way I can take this on."
"Then tell me—what exactly are you planning to do?"
Serie had been reluctant to go out and personally build up a force, so she had delayed fulfilling Flamme's will for just a "little" while. Now that she saw Ash as a prime candidate for free labor, she naturally had no intention of letting him slip away so easily.
But since he seemed so unwilling, she softened her stance slightly. She didn't intend to force him, but her gaze urged him to explain himself. Yet, without a solid reason, it was clear she wasn't going to let him off the hook.
Ash admitted he'd taken control of the kingdom and planned to manage it to build strength, but Serie's reaction was ambiguous, a mix of agreement and reluctance. While she didn't seem intent on pushing him further, her expectations lingered.
"You've really come a long way, haven't you? You're in control of an entire kingdom now." Serie lounged on a wooden chair amid the ruins, crossing her legs with a mischievous smile. "Then the reconstruction and expansion here can be entirely your responsibility. Show me how much you value your teacher."
"That's the people's hard-earned money! I'm not about to bleed the civilians dry."
"Civilians?" Serie scoffed. "How much money do you think they have? Why not ask the nobles to 'contribute'? You've got plenty of them under your thumb, right? This place will belong to you eventually, so why not improve it?"
"But I don't even want to take over this mess in the first place. This is just…"
"I won't force you," Serie said, though her tone carried a weight that made him sigh.
"Honestly… you really are a devil."
"Oh, coming from a demon who manipulates others?" Serie retorted with a smirk, leaving him momentarily speechless.
In terms of behavior and reputation, it was hard to deny that he might seem even more devilish.
In the end, Ash, who'd come only to deal with a few lingering issues, found himself in a bind. He was effectively roped into staying in the magical city to help organize the establishment of a branch of the Continental Magic Association.
Those he'd saved within the Magic Association began to view him as Serie's future successor and the branch leader, or even as a very generous noble "patron."
Along with his titles, he also gained access to Serie's extensive collection of magical books… Faced with the chance to read all the magical knowledge in the world, money suddenly seemed a lot less valuable.
...
...
Years slipped by as he continued his studies and managed responsibilities under Serie's watchful eye.
Ash even took over the Demon King's Castle, which had been abandoned, but in just the first year of his rule... he faced a formidable challenger—the Bloody God of War, Rivale, one of the most ancient and powerful demons in existence.
"What a great successor! No wonder they dared to take over this place!"
The demon warrior, Rivale—with slicked-back hair, prominent horns, and thick eyebrows—laughed with genuine excitement when he saw Ash. Channeling his magic power into a colossal sword, he swung it down at Ash without a word.
BANG—!!!
The massive sword clashed with Ash's own long sword, sending sparks flying. Ash, thrown backward by the impact, skidded at a frightening speed.
Yet, in the midst of his uncontrolled retreat, he managed to plant a firm step forward, stabilizing himself just in time. Behind him, the force of the collision had torn up the ground, creating a dramatic, inverted waterfall of earth and stone.
Rivale's grin widened with approval. Laughing heartily, he called out, "Not bad! You've got some real grit! That dwarf, Eisen, couldn't even stand his ground after one punch from me, but you—after taking a blow from my sword, you're still in control?"
"…I've heard of you," Ash muttered, visibly frustrated. Rivale, who seemed to live for combat, looked at Ash with eyes ablaze with anticipation.
"Come on, young man! Defeat me in a show of strength, and I—this old warrior—will recognize you as the new Demon King!"
"Wait… Are you serious? I'm a magician! You, a warrior, want me to fight you in hand-to-hand combat?"
Ash looked at Rivale, completely taken aback. He couldn't fathom how Rivale could make such a demand.
"A magician? You seem more like a warrior to me. Besides, no ordinary magician could've blocked my sword!"
"My specialty is magic. I just know a bit of martial arts, that's all," Ash replied, scratching his head. "How about this—why don't you teach me how to fight? Then I'll get better, and you'll have a real challenge."
"Hm… sounds like a plan!" Rivale didn't hesitate long before nodding with delight, muttering to himself as if he'd found a brilliant idea. "Personally train an outstanding junior, then have them surpass me in every way… that sounds perfect!"
"Uh… I only suggested it, but you actually agreed?" Ash asked, incredulous.
"Why search the world for rivals when I can train one right here? And frankly, I can't think of anyone more suited for this than you! Even if you call yourself a magician, that power you wield—no ordinary human could dream of such strength!" Rivale sized him up, then lifted his sword once more, his smile growing ever more bloodthirsty.
"—Come on, let me teach you."
"Wait, this doesn't seem like 'teaching'—"
"The fastest way to learn is in real combat!"
Rivale's giant sword came down with immense power. Ash could only smile wryly, unsure what expression to wear. All he could do was grit his teeth and dive into the fight.
Thus began the days that followed.
Ash found himself studying magic under Serie's strict guidance while training as a warrior under Rivale's brutal regimen.
With such a relentless schedule, time slipped by quickly. In the blink of an eye, the fifty-year agreement loomed ever closer.
One evening, while taking a rare break, Ash sat atop the wall of the Demon King's Castle, gazing at the distant night sky. He thought of the appointment he'd made half a century ago. His heart felt heavy, unsure if he should fulfill that promise.
After all, there were fewer friends now. And this time… he might be nearing the limits of human lifespan.