Reborn As A Maid

Chapter 162: Chapter 162 - Draven’s Fear ( Part 1 )

A crimson moon shone in the sky above the Demon Continent.

It was not populated by peaceful forestlands or fertile fields like most other continents on the world. There was nothing here but the endless wastelands stretching for kilometers ahead, broken only by mountains of black stone and rivers of molten lava and clouds of poison constantly covering the sky.

In the center of this accursed land there was Pandemonium – the Fortress of the Seven Demon Generals.

Its high walls of black stone reached to heaven, while thousands of demon banners fluttered around.

Thousands of demons waited in the fortress court.

Not a sound was uttered.

Today, the Third Demon General returned.

Defeated.

The heavy wooden gate squeaked loudly.

Footsteps resounded across the stone passage.

Draven, the Black Warlord, entered the Hall of Generals.

His black armor was cracked and bloody, his crimson cape was shredded and torn to pieces.

The most astonishing thing was that his right arm was missing.

Dark demonic power constantly flowed from his wound, stopping the bleeding but being unable to regenerate the lost limb.

Any demon seeing him instantly bowed their head.

Not out of respect.

Out of shock.

The Black Warlord was never humiliated before.

The Hall of Generals was capable of housing entire armies.

Seven giant thrones made of obsidian formed a ring.

Some of them were occupied.

Others were empty.

In one of them sat a tall woman in deep violet robes. Long black hair was falling on her back, and emerald eyes of the lady observed Draven.

The Fourth Demon General.

Morgatha, the Witch of Eternal Curses.

She smirked. "My... you look terrible."

"You know why I am here," growled Draven.

"I know. I am here for entertainment."

Opposite to her sat a man with silver hair and calm golden eyes. Unlike all the others he did not wear fancy armor but simple black robes. A teacup was in his hand.

The Second Demon General.

Azrael, the Silent Observer.

He calmly drank his tea. "I warned you."

"About her growth," said Draven and clenched the fist which was left to him.

"And you did not take it seriously," nodded Azrael.

Laughter echoed in the hall.

It was coming from the Fifth Throne. In it was sitting a handsome man, leaning against the throne and lazily turning a dagger in his hands.

The Fifth Demon General.

Lokiar, the Lord of Illusions.

"Draven... you really lost? Hard to believe."

Draven’s demonic power flared. "I will kill you."

"Try. With one arm," said Lokiar and laughed.

Several demons tried to restrain their nervous laughter.

The glare of Draven silenced them.

The Sixth Throne suddenly shook as its owner rose.

An enormous giant, covered in scars towered over everyone.

Backward-curved horns made him resemble some kind of beast.

The Sixth Demon General.

Grom, the Beast King.

He crossed his huge arms. "I smell..." He inhaled deeply. "...three Divine Swords."

Draven looked at him. "You noticed."

"Yes," he nodded. "Excalibur. Leviathan. And..." His expression changed. "...Tempest."

Dead silence fell in the hall.

The smile of Morgatha slowly faded. "Impossible. Tempest disappeared centuries ago."

"I saw it myself," said Draven quietly. "It woke up. And it was chosen by..." He hesitated. "...Jennie Queens."

Shock swept through the hall.

Even Azrael stopped drinking his tea. For the first time since Draven entered his calm expression changed.

"So. It happened."

Draven moved towards the middle of the hall.

Each of his steps echoed in the hall.

He did not like admitting his defeat, but lies could make the situation only worse.

"I fought with the Sword King. I witnessed the waking of Tempest. The resonance of the three Divine Swords."

Silence.

"A merger," frowned Lokiar.

Draven nodded slowly. "With my own eyes."

Silence fell again.

Even the flames dancing on the walls of the hall seemed uneasy.

Morgatha muttered. "No... the legend turned out to be true."

Quietly Azrael set down his teacup. "So Astraeus has started his waking."

Draven looked at him. "You knew?"

"I suspected."

Draven closed his eyes.

The image of that strike appeared in front of him.

Gold. Ocean. Wind.

Three forces combined in one perfect strike.

His arm dropping to the floor before he even noticed it.

His eyes opened.

His voice carried something which the Seven Demon Generals never heard before.

Fear.

"I could not track her movement."

No interruptions.

"Not even for an instant. I have faced heroes. I have faced dragons. I have faced kingdoms."

Slowly he looked each of the Seven Generals in the eyes.

"I could not see her strike."

It was much more powerful blow then any battle report.

Draven was the best commander on the battlefield among the Seven. His physical power was comparable to ancient monsters, and his instincts helped him survive many wars.

But even he...

Then the threat was much larger than they supposed.

Finally Azrael said. "I warned you. The Sword King was not the same. She has companions. She has hope. And now..." He glanced at the empty Seventh Throne. "...she has begun to revive the Divine Blade."

Confident smile of Lokiar faded. "What do we do now?"

For several moments no one said anything.

Suddenly the hall grew colder. Heavier.

As though the fortress itself felt the coming storm.

Draven lowered his head.

His pride was smashed in Rosario. He failed. Not only he has lost Tempest, but he has strengthened the Sword King.

"I take the blame. I underestimated her."

Morgatha was really shocked. "The great Black Warlord... admitting mistake?"

Draven ignored her. "This is no longer war against the human."

He looked at the center of the hall.

"This is a new Great Demon War. And if Jennie Queens will get the rest Divine Swords..." He clenched his fist slowly. "...even the resurrection of the Demon Emperor will not guarantee us victory."

These words echoed in the hall of Generals.

For the first time in a thousand years the Seven Generals understood that resurrected Sword King was not only the surviving hero anymore.

She became the greatest threat for all plans of the Demon Continent prepared after the last Great Demon War.

Somewhere beyond the black fortress an ancient entity awakened, listening to everything silently.

The real ruler of the Seven Generals was going to speak.

Absolute silence hung in the air inside the Hall of the Seven.

No one moved, no one spoke.

They were still hearing the words of the Third Demon General in their ears.

Three Divine Swords. The Sword King had managed to reunite three pieces of the legendary weapon.

Even ancient Demon Generals knew what it meant.

But—

The ground beneath the whole fortress started trembling with deep rumbles.

The obsidian floor started cracking under the feet of the Demon Generals and their subjects.

The torches inside the hall started flashing in an attempt to fight against the darkness which suddenly engulfed the hall.

The air grew incredibly heavy, and breathing became hard.

Ordinary demons standing outside the hall fainted almost instantly—before they could even understand what happened with them.

Grom frowned. "...He’s awake."

Morgatha stood up from her throne. "It looks like the time came."

Lokiar’s smile disappeared completely.

Even Azrael silently put his teacup on the table. His golden eyes became hard.

Far under Pandemonium—in the depths behind thousands of ancient seals—red eyes slowly opened.

For one thousand years, they were shut.

But now, they were looking on the world again.

A voice rang in the underground chamber. Deep. Cold. Ancient.

"I can smell... the Sword King."

Chains, keeping the enormous creature bound, broke one after another. The amount of demonic energy unleashed by each of them was enough to shake the mountains.

The ancient prison was unable to keep its prisoner.

The final seal was shattered.

*Crack!*

A column of black light erupted from under the fortress.

Sky turned dark.

Inside the Hall of the Seven, the huge figure slowly appeared out of the darkness.

Two meters and more in height, his armor was made from black metal which absorbed any light that met it. Long black cloak followed him like shadows. Silver-black hair fell down to his waist. Two curved black horns decorated his head.

The most horrible thing about him was his red eyes, which didn’t have any signs of anger or excitement. They only had the signs of total certainty.

This was the one who led every Demon General during the Great Demon War.

The undefeated commander.

The strongest among the Seven.

Seventh Demon General—

Noctis.

The Lord of the Seven Generals.

Without a word, every Demon General stood up.

Even Draven.

They lowered their heads one by one.

Not because of friendship or loyalty.

Because instinct forced them to do it.

Before the overwhelming power, even monsters bow down.

Noctis slowly approached the middle of the hall.

Each of his steps sounded like thunder.

The atmosphere around him kept growing denser. Cracks appeared on the obsidian pillars. Some of the lesser demons outside the hall started coughing blood.

The very presence of Noctis was distorting mana in the air.

Then he stopped before Draven.

Third Demon General raised his head.

Noctis looked at him from above.

There was no sign of anger in his look. There was only disappointment.

"You lost."

The sound of his voice was calm. And this made it even scarier.

Draven lowered his head. "...Yes."

Noctis pointed one finger.

He lightly touched Draven’s forehead.

It seemed nothing special had happened.

But then—

*Boom!*

The invisible power hit him like a mountain falling from sky.

The Third Demon General dropped on his knees. The stone under his feet broke instantly. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. His right hand trembled desperately.

He tried to stand up.

He couldn’t.

The pressure grew and grew. His muscles were screaming in agony.

Draven gritted his teeth. "...My lord Noctis... I..."

The pressure increased twice.

The head of Draven was pushed down to the stone, so that his forehead touched the stone.

Even Grom involuntarily stepped back.

Lokiar nervously swallowed.

Morgatha silently turned away.

Only Azrael stayed calm.

He was expecting this.

Noctis calmly looked at the fallen warlord.

"You are proud."

Draven didn’t say anything.

"You think you are undefeated."

Silence.

"You thought that you were worthy of leading my armies."

Silence.

Then Noctis uttered words that destroyed Draven’s pride.

"You lost... to the Sword King with only three Divine Swords."

The whole hall became absolutely silent.

Red eyes of Noctis narrowed.

"Pathetic."

The single word hit harder than any blade.

Draven closed his eyes.

He wanted to protest, wanted to say anything.

But he couldn’t.

Everything Noctis said was true.

Noctis turned from him.

"You fought the Sword King who wasn’t completed. You fought the Sword King whose Divine Blade wasn’t completed. And still, you were returned here defeated."

He turned to other Demon Generals.

"If she had all Seven Divine Swords..." He paused. "...not one of you was alive."

These words chilled the hall.

Even Morgatha lost her temper.

Grom tightly clenched his fists.

Lokiar stopped smiling.

Only Azrael silently nodded. "I came to the same conclusions."

Noctis turned to Azrael. "You fought Leonis before."

"I did."

"Then answer me. Is the Sword King became weaker?"

Azrael faintly smiled. "No." Pause. "But she became kinder." Pause. "And that makes her far more dangerous."

Noctis closed his eyes for a moment. "As I supposed."

He approached the huge map of the continent depicted on the wall. Little lights marked the locations of ancient ruins. Hidden shrines. Sleeping relics.

And somewhere—the rest Divine Swords.

Noctis put one hand on the map.

"The Great Demon War has changed."

He turned to every Demon General.

"Our enemy isn’t humanity anymore."

"Our enemy... is time."

Draven slowly forced himself to stand up despite the pain.

His pride was broken, but his determination was still there.

"What are your orders?"

Noctis instantly answered.

"Recover the remaining Divine Swords."

"If Jennie Queens will gather all seven of them..." He clenched his fist slowly. "...even Demon Emperor will fall."

These words shocked everybody present in the hall.

The Demon Emperor, supreme ruler of all demons, could fall?

Only Noctis was able to say something like this aloud.

The Seventh Demon General turned to the huge window with the view of Demon Continent.

Millions of fortresses stretched into infinity. Millions of demons waited for orders.

The wind brought the scent of war.

Noctis’ voice echoed through the hall.

"Call every legion. Wake up every ancient beast. Open every forgotten gate."

His red eyes shone brightly.

"We move."

Far below, war drums started sounding on the Demon Continent.

One fortress answered another. Another. Then another hundred.

The Earth was shaking because of movements of countless armies.

The greatest army that was ever gathered by the demons started moving.

Not because of any prophecies.

Not because of vengeance.

Because of one sixteen years old girl with three Divine Swords, which made the mightiest of demons lose their confidence.

Noctis stood before the crimson moon and addressed to the darkness beyond the horizon.

"Leonis... no, Jennie Queens."

Faint smile appeared on his lips.

"I won’t underestimate you. And when we will meet—I will show you why I was undefeated even during the age of Sword King."

Crimson moon shone silently over Demon Continent while the greatest commander of demon kind took first steps toward war.