Chapter 2: CHAPTER 2. The Demon King

‘Holy and darkness.’

Such were the widely used terms to differentiate between the good and the bad.

In all actuality, such concepts didn’t exist in the realm of magic.

From the very start, angels and devils didn’t exist. As evidenced by the fact that the Church of Magnolia worshiped Fenrir—a demigod that slayed another god.

Magic itself came upon the land after the war among gods, which took place centuries ago. The moment a god had fallen, his remains—which were fully constructed of magic—would disperse into the air—more often than not after causing a massive destruction. Afterwards, the surrounding vicinity would be imbued with magic. The Forest of Helleborus was one of such cases.

Not everyone was born with magic. The moment someone with an affinity for magic was born, he’d be baptized in the church to awaken his innate talent. Usually, they’d be enrolled into an academy of magic to later become either a mage, acolyte, or a knight.

Titles like "sorcerer", "priest", and "templar" were given to those who had been sanctified by the church. As of present, church was the most powerful authority in the world, while Fenrir was the most commonly worshiped god. Merely being allied with the church would grant someone with vast arrays of privileges.

As for those who weren’t born with any magical prowess, it wasn’t the end of the road. Magic could be acquired—be it from natural sources, or by wielding artifacts left by the gods. However, wielding magic—something fickle in nature—often led to loss of one’s sanity due to the pursuit of greater power.

Those who succumbed to their lust for power would then be branded as ‘witch’; immoral beings whose only aim was to fulfill their own selfish desires, often at the expense of others.

What differentiated those who were linked to the church with the witches was the existence of ‘restriction’.

Born from the gods’ desire to be the strongest, the nature of magic forced someone to desire for greater strength. The greater the magic, the stronger that desire—often eroding the mind.

After years of extensive research, the church had invented a way of retaining one’s humanity while continuously wielding magic—it was the ‘Oracle Seal’.

Oracle Seal was a manmade seal created for the purpose of regulating magical flow. The seal would prevent one’s magic from going out of control—and most importantly, from eroding its wielder.

Depending on the amount of magic, multiple seals could exist at once. However, not only applying one seal caused searing pain, it also placed great strain on the body. Therefore, a capable physique was also needed.

Restricting one’s magic through the use of ‘Oracle Seal’ was the basic requirement of joining the church. Considering the strenuous process of renewing the seals every certain period of time, and also the excruciating pain it yielded, those of the church were indeed the most devoted ones.

‘Blessing, peace, protection’—those were the words commonly used to describe the church’s followers.

On the other hand, ‘calamity, chaos, curse’ were mostly linked to those who had strayed from the church—namely, the witches.

Those who restricted their power, and those who didn’t—

—in the end, it all came down to which side was perceived as right.

Inside the forest where a god had once perished, such forces were currently colliding—

—the knight templar; the good, and the witch, the bad.

 ***

“Resistance is futile.”

There was a shift in the air—both metaphorically, and also literally.

The main reason was because the knight templar, Julius, had channeled his magic to his entire body. A slight burning sensation engulfed his body. All the seals on his body were lighting up, constraining the flow of said magic.

Years of perseverance had not only enabled him to withstand both the pain and the physical burden, but also to maximize his magical flow.

That was right, without proper training, the seal itself could become a hindrance. Someone who was safe from magical erosion could be facing the reality that his magical output was being halved after receiving the Oracle Seal.

However, as of the present, all he did was imbue his limbs with magic to increase agility.

Meanwhile, the witch...

“...The forest sure is quiet.”

...was visibly unperturbed. She wasn’t even looking his way.

The trees were swaying. The leaves were rustling.

“—It is. What were you expecting?”

Is she stalling for time?

The witch didn’t answer, and instead moved her right arm—

—in a flash, Julius unsheathed his sword. However, even faster than that, was the gush of wind swirling from the tip of his blade.

The object which was once held by the witch was obliterated.

“My mushrooms—!!” The witch hurriedly went towards the shambles that was once her basket.

The remnants of the basket, along with the shredded pieces of mushrooms pitifully laid on the ground.

He paid it no mind, concluding it was probably the witch’s hidden contraption.

 “—If you dare make another suspicious movement, that will be your fate.”

Julius pointed the tip of his blade towards her basket. The witch, who was busy gathering the scattered chunks of mushrooms, froze.

It seemed that he had made his point after all.

—or not.

"How dare you—!! I was just about to put it down—!!"

The furious witch stormed towards him. She looked even more annoyed than before. There was genuine fury in her eyes.

"What have I ever done to you—!?"

Even though his sword was in clear display, the witch didn't even acknowledge its existence, and instead began to poke his chest.

Julius doubted he'd actually proceed with his previous threat.

He also doubted the 'witch' before him was as evil as the calamity which had befallen those bewitched men. Especially after seeing her recent behaviors.

...However, regarding whether or not said witch was innocent—he doubted that as well. Hence why, further assessment was needed.

"You'll be in for a questioning. For now, you'll be coming with me to the town."

"I absolutely refuse."

"It's an order. Besides, you don't have any choice."

As he spoke, a golden light was emitted from the back of the witch. The witch noticed it as well.

"Since when—!?" The witch immediately tried to reach for her back.

"I put a special talisman on you right before we began to delve into the forest. One that will prevent you from getting into contact with magic—or, casting one, for that matter."

To be precise, it was a means of protection. Giving her the benefit of the doubt, he decided it was the best course of action—after all, it was still the witch's domain. By special, he meant that the moment the talisman was applied, the paper would vanish into thin air as the magical seal inside got absorbed into the wearer's body.

Unlike low-grade talismans, it wouldn't cause any adverse effect, nor would it make the user feel any less different than usual. At the same time, the talisman bore extraordinary protection. It just so happened to prevent magical release from the inside, as well—

—and it just so happened that the wearer was a witch.

The outcome of that battle—if it could be considered that—was already set in stone.

"Now, without further ado, raise both of your hands as you turn around and start walking towards the forest's opening. Again, suspicious behaviors will—"

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—the witch raised her hand.

At the same time, her eyes bore straight into his.

He noticed the glint within her eyes—

—defiance.

Instinct kicked in as Julius readied his stance and poised his sword.

However, instead of anything, the witch's hand casually went towards his naked blade.

"—!!!"

Julius tried to withdraw his sword, only to be met with resistance. The witch had successfully grabbed his sword.

Still, nothing happened. Other than the witch's palm getting sliced open because she adamantly held on to his blade, of course.

Blood began to ooze from the wound and trailed down his sword.

"What are you...—"

—then he realized what the witch had intended—

—what the witch wanted him to see. Even though droplets of red were still falling from the blade of his sword, the instance the witch removed her hand—

—none.

The wound had vanished. Just like that. As if it had never existed.

"It seems that your talisman has failed you."

Chill went down his spine.

High-speed regeneration. Not to mention, immunity to high-tier talisman.

The magic contained within the high-grade talisman bore purity of the highest order—it was quite close to the magic of the ancient gods themselves. Said purity was achieved after countless stages of enhancement—and even then, the talisman was limited to single use only.

To negate such purity—it'd require impurity of the same level.

Julius was well-trained in masking his true emotions. Towards the terrifying being before him, he said nonchalantly;

"I have also scattered other talismans inside this forest. You may have been able to destroy one, but can the same be said about the others?"

He concluded the previous phenomenon occurred because the witch had made a breakthrough using her magic. Next time, it wouldn’t happen again.

Because the person before him was still human. The previous sight of her bleeding had confirmed that—and humans could run out of magic.

“Hmm. If I were to make a run for it...” The witch showed a contemplating look.

“I won’t recommend that. The other talismans are designed to explode when triggered. Besides, I won’t let you.”

It was because the human before him had also confirmed the fact that she was a witch—again, with the previous phenomenon.

As such, there was no way he’d let her out of his sight.

“I see.” Cheery smile rose to the witch’s face, as her silvery laughter got carried by the wind.

When he was busy contemplating whether or not she was planning something—

“—Well then, let’s have a change of scenery.”

Before he could register anything, darkness had engulfed his entire surroundings.

He could faintly smell the drizzle of rain.

 ***

The darkness lasted for only a second.

The moment he blinked his eyes, his vicinity had changed into red.

Before anything else, dizziness assaulted his mind as a strong, familiar, scent pervaded his nostrils.

Stabbing his sword to the ground, Julius tried to regain his bearings—

“—Oh, I’m sorry. I tried my best to adjust the teleportation spell, but it seems to be slightly off-mark.” The nonchalant voice of the witch echoed in his eardrums. It was tinted with remorse.

...Teleportation... spell!

It was a high-ranking spell not even the strongest templar could cast—!

Despite so, there was something more pressing—

—The heady aroma, which was assailing his head as of the present—

—it was the smell of roses. Even though in the place which seemingly was a living room, none was present.

The answer was simple—because it belonged to no roses, but the witch.

Indeed, it was the unique scent of the witch’s magic—‘the essence of magic’, as one might call it—

—and also the scent which was always found in the crime scenes involving those crazed men.

The scent which led to the witch’s investigation in the first place.

“—You’re the culprit!”

Although he was still faltering, in the next second, he had managed to point his sword at the witch. Almost touching the witch’s nose, his sharp blade emanated a cold, merciless, glint.

Nevertheless, the witch only lowered her gaze—towards his still trembling legs.

“How about some rest?”

In the next moment, he was propelled backwards as his surroundings transitioned once again. The suddenness made him release his sword—a fatal mistake when being in the presence of one’s enemy.

However, instead of being met with a quick death, his back was caught by a soft, fluffy, sensation. The creaking made him register that he was being flung onto a bed.

At that moment, he could barely mind his surroundings. He had blanked, while his eyes stayed at the figure of the witch, who stood still at the foot of the bed. Due to the shock, he couldn’t even move.

Regeneration, teleportation, force magic—...

Not to mention, her ability to cast multiple high-ranking spells at once without chanting...

His ashen face was reflected in the witch’s eyes.

Before him, stood a being that could distort both reality and space. That being had transcended the title of a witch.

“...You, are not a witch... you’re a demon king—!!!”

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