Chapter 369: Unfair
Elion blurred through them like a phantom. A spear missed his throat and scraped across his shoulder guard instead. A scythe meant for his spine caught only the edge of his cloak.
A demon’s blade cut his side, but the armour hardened, dispersing the force until the wound was shallow.
A black fire spell hit his chest plate and exploded, but the Legendary set absorbed enough of the impact that he came out of the flames with only scorched fabric and a thin line of blood at his mouth.
It was like every time they thought they had him, the attack would miss by a minuscule margin. Once or twice, Maya had thought it was just a fluke, only for the same thing to happen five more times, then ten, and at that point, she could see that he was doing this intentionally.
Every single move he made seemed accidental, but it was all calculated in advance, to minimise damage while delivering deadly strikes.
And the few attacks that did make it to him ended up being non-fatal, and even when they managed to land one or two direct attacks, each time they hit him, he kept moving, and each time he hit them, they paid for it.
Yaana’s laughter had stopped completely. She was bleeding from her shoulder and thigh now, both wounds refusing to close, her scythe trembling slightly in her grip.
Manfred, the swordsman’s legs were cut in several places, his arm bled heavily, and the shallow wound along his neck continued dripping down into his collar, unnoticed until the blood soaked his chest.
Uta’s face had gone pale, his sleeves hanging in bloody tatters, and he was running lowest on energy reserves among all of them.
Maya’s cloak was torn, her garments were scorched along one side, even exposing a section of her moderate underboob on that side, which she didn’t seem to notice, and a line of blood ran from her torso where one of Elion’s compressed water blades had slipped past her protective barrier.
And the Archdemon was missing a hand. Its body was covered in cuts, but none of them were closing.
All seven remaining fighters stared at Elion as though they were no longer looking at a lone human, but a reaper from hell who had come to collect their lives. It was ironic, considering Yaana was the one holding a scythe, the moniker of a reaper.
They had long since left the original chamber behind.
The battlefield had become the exposed courtyard and the broken side of the castle, with crimson light from the sky spilling over the ruins and distant war thunder rolling across the horizon.
And the seven of them stood spread out around him, breathing heavily. Maya was tired, and she did not have infinite mana. That much was obvious now.
Over the course of the battle, her spells formed a fraction slower than before. Her shoulders rose and fell with each breath, blood stained her side, and though her eyes remained sharp, the calm sweetness she had worn earlier had long since been forgotten by her.
Yaana’s eyes blurred with pain, and Manfred’s legs were weakening beneath him. The Archdemon’s breath came in heavy snarls, its severed wrist pouring black blood onto the ground.
And Elion?
Elion looked just as injured as they were.
His clothes were torn, and blood ran from several wounds; one side of his armour was scorched. His cheek was cut, his lip split, and bruises were no doubt forming beneath the plates where the Archmage demon’s blows had landed.
But none of it seemed to bother him.
He stood there completely unbothered, Kurogoroshi hanging loosely in one hand, crimson ripples sliding along its edge. Cold wisps of smoke drifted from the edges of his eyes, curling upward into the sky above his head.
Maya didn’t know if her vision was failing her, but why did it look like the cuts on his cheek and lip were closing?
’It can’t be that he has a healing ability too! Right?’ The thought made her heart tremble. Just how overpowered was one person allowed to be!?
He was only supposed to be an advanced mage like her. Why was the difference so boundless then!? Why did fighting him feel like trying to climb an impossible mountain with an invisible peak?
Even with an archdemon, the equivalent of an archmage caster or warrior, they were still losing!
’Damnit! This is so unfair!’
How had the trial made such an impossible trial taker their foe! It finally made sense why there were four trial takers on their side, while there were only three on the humans’ side.
Elion’s cold gaze moved across them slowly, looking at them as if they were ants. He looked bored and almost disappointed with them.
Maya stared at him gravely, "W-what are you?" she asked. Her voice was quiet, but in the ruined, dark yard, it sounded vividly clear to all of them.
Elion did not answer immediately. He simply looked at her.
For a brief second, the distant battlefield thundered behind them, spells crashing somewhere beyond the castle walls like the world itself was breaking apart.
When he finally spoke, his voice was much deeper than normal; the vibration of his voice resonated with the crumbling surroundings, making them all shiver from words alone.
"Are you prepared to die?" The sound of it was almost unfamiliar, making them all shiver in fear.
The funniest sight was watching the Archdemon tremble like a frightened child despite its towering size, but no one there was in a state to laugh. The creature that had been grinning with such ugly confidence not long ago now stared at Elion as if it had finally understood what kind of thing it had been fighting.
And despite the fact that Elion looked almost equally beaten, his confident gait and unshaken gaze told Maya that he was not joking. If he wanted to, he would end all of them here without batting an eyelid.
She looked around frantically.
A small army of demons was already scampering toward the castle, pouring in from the lower courtyards and broken roads, their claws and weapons scraping against stone as they rushed toward the battlefield. A small seed of hope threatened to bloom in her heart, but she snuffed it out immediately.
’No.’ She thought quietly, ’They would just be cannon fodder.’
They could do nothing to help here, other than becoming bodies for him to add to the pile.
Her breath grew shallow as she tried to think of a way out, but everything she thought of led to the same conclusion.
He would cut down anything they threw his way.
She gritted her teeth so hard that more blood flowed from between her lips. She didn’t want to die. Death in this trial meant true death, and for her, that was not worth it.
This was only the first trial. Regardless of what was at stake for her back home, regardless of what kind of result she needed, she could not die here.
Even if the thought of getting a mediocre result would no doubt anger him, her death would be an even worse result. It would be better to take whatever punishment he decided to dole out to them later.
She looked at Uta, Manfred, and Yaana with a complicated gaze. They were all probably thinking the same thing.
They could not win against this monster of a human.
Elion took a slow step forward.
The simple sound of his boot pressing against the broken stone made all seven of them tense at once.
Kurogoroshi hung low at his side, but no one mistook that relaxed posture for weakness anymore. Crimson ripples slid faintly beneath the dark metal of the blade, and the cold smoke at the edges of his eyes continued drifting upward as if the air around him had become too cold to remain still.
The first wave of lesser demons finally reached the courtyard.
They poured over the broken walls and shattered stairs, snarling, screeching, and rushing toward Elion with weapons raised.
Elion did not even turn his head.
He lifted his left hand.
The ground beneath the demons split open.
Stone spikes erupted upward in a jagged line, impaling the first dozen before they could take another step.
A rolling wave of fire followed immediately after, spreading along the spikes like molten veins before exploding outward in a violent burst that swallowed the second wave. Those who survived stumbled through the smoke screaming, only for thin blades of water to cut through their throats, knees, and wrists with surgical precision.
A dozen bodies became thirty.
Thirty became more.
The courtyard entrance turned into a slaughterhouse in less than ten breaths.
Elion still hadn’t taken his eyes off Maya and the others.
Maya’s last bit of hope died completely. The sight made her body feel cold and tremble violently.
’Just how much mana does he have!’ The thought was even more ridiculous because she had always assumed he was a swordsman first, and a mage second. But he had been throwing spells wantonly this whole time.
"Stop," she said as he took another step forward.
It was unclear who the words were meant for: Elion, or the demons rushing to attack him. More rushed forward still.
Elion’s fingers twitched.
Blood magic seized the corpses scattered across the courtyard, and the spilled blood rose in thin, dark strands before snapping outward like whips. The next wave of demons was torn apart mid-charge, bodies splitting, limbs falling, screams ending before they could fully form.
Only then did the rest hesitate.
Elion finally glanced toward them; that was all it took.
The remaining lesser demons froze in place, instinct screaming louder than whatever command had driven them here. Kurogoroshi hummed once, and the creatures took a collective step back.
Maya swallowed hard as Elion looked back at her.
"Was that your backup?"
No one answered. Yaana’s lips parted, but no sound came out from her quivering lips. Uta’s eyes darted toward Maya, desperate, furious, afraid. "Maya..."
"I know," she whispered.
Elion began walking again.
