I raised my hand toward the sky, releasing a torrent of black flames that exploded into the air like a second sun—an inferno so vast and intense it painted the heavens with darkness. For a moment, it looked as if the sky itself had caught fire.
Gasps echoed around me.
"Those flames..." the princess whispered, sweat forming on her brow despite the distance.
"What kind of magic is that...?" the prince muttered. He gritted his teeth, unwilling to back down even as fear flickered in his eyes.
"He's not using the magicules around him," the princess continued, voice trembling. "He's... generating it with his own power. That size... that control... it's a perfect expression of his strength."
Yes, yes. Behold. Tremble before my magnificence.
I puffed out my chest and chuckled under my breath, basking in the praise—until I noticed Shizue pointing silently upward with a flat expression on her face.
Hmm?
I followed her gesture.
...Crap.
Cold sweat traced down the back of my neck. The black flames I had unleashed had twisted into a vortex—a massive, spiraling tornado of fire whose edges licked the treetops and scorched them into ash.
Okay. Don't panic.
I inhaled sharply and tried to act cool, slowly glancing toward Shizue to silently plead for assistance.
She sighed, offering me a look of affectionate exasperation before leaping back to contain the blaze. Wind swirled around her, her magic pressing the flames inward and shielding the forest.
"Right, moving on," I said quickly, clearing my throat. I raised my other arm and shifted focus, redirecting their awe.
With a thought, the earth trembled beneath us.
From deep underground, sharpened spires of raw metal burst forth in a brilliant arc—glistening, jagged pillars that erupted like dormant geysers. My magisteel project.
Buried beneath this land was a network of enchanted iron veins, infused daily with Veldora's magicules through a complex channeling system I designed with the help of the dwarves and Great Sage. Slowly, the iron had begun to evolve—changing, refining into something more.
And now?
Booming cracks split the air as bolts of black lightning rained from the heavens at my command, smashing the newly risen ore into fragments of molten light.
The ground sizzled. The sky roared.
"Hey," Shizue's voice echoed inside my mind, amused. "You're overdoing it."
Eh?
I turned to her. She wore a sly grin as she conjured focused gusts to extinguish the fires still licking the treetops and gently lifted Gobta from a smoking bush.
"Ahem. Right," I muttered, raising both hands as I dispelled the inferno. "As I was saying... do you still want to fight?"
Silence.
Only the soft footfalls of Shizue and the princess broke the stillness as they returned to the center of the clearing.
The prince lowered his weapon slightly, eyes wide, stunned.
"Majin... I admit it. You're powerful—far beyond anything we could've imagined," he said, voice hollow with reluctant awe.
"Prince," his elder advisor added, "normally, I'd say grab the princess and run. But honestly? I doubt I could buy you even a second."
"You feel it too, old man?"
"Of course I do. I'm not senile just yet."
They exchanged a rueful chuckle, but their eyes remained sharp, hiding frustration and the sting of helplessness.
I lowered my arms, waiting.
"Will you listen now?" I asked.
The prince clenched his fists. "...No."
He drew his sword once more, the blade trembling with conviction.
"I won't retreat. Even if I fall here, I'll carve a scar into you—one you'll never forget. That's the least I owe to my fallen comrades."
Tsk. Right. He's a battle maniac through and through.
The Benimaru I knew was headstrong, the kind to challenge Demon Lord Carrion even while waving a white flag. A warrior who thrived on pressure and knew there were monsters stronger than him—but that knowledge only stoked his fire.
"Brother, stop!" Shuna's voice rang out, stepping between us before he could strike.
"What are you doing?! Get out of the way!"
"Think, brother! This Majin could've annihilated us by now. And the woman with him... she's just as powerful! If they were our enemies, they wouldn't need to rely on trickery like unleashing orcs!"
"Orcs, huh..." I muttered, catching their attention.
I approached slowly, then reached into my coat and pulled out the mask.
"Anyway," I said, handing it to the princess, "here. Take a look. If this is what you're here for, feel free to study it."
The princess examined it carefully. "It looks similar to the one the masked Majin wore…"
"This one has an anti-magic aura," I explained. "The Majin that attacked your village wasn't hiding his."
They traded glances and murmured to one another. I left them to it, turning instead to heal the wounded ogres nearby.
"It's a replica I made—based on her mask," I added, nodding toward Shizue, who was now organizing the goblins and checking Gobta for burns.
The wind had died down. The smoke had cleared.
All that remained was the quiet hum of raw magic in the air—and the beginning of something new.