"I'm just a humble wanderer passing through," Leon said with a faint smile. "Remember that when they ask you in hell who killed you."
Leon had learned very early on — chuunibyou was perfectly acceptable in this world.
Probably because things like magic, blessings, and curses actually existed here, those lines and actions that would've been called chuuni back in his previous life were genuinely admired now.
For example, wrap a bandage around your arm, cover one eye with a blindfold, say something dramatic and meaningless that sounds cool — and people will treat you like some mysterious, awe-inspiring being.
All Leon could say was — this really was a chuunibyou world.
"There's no mistaking it! It's exactly as the ancient texts say! That sword is the legendary blade that slew the Demon King! I see now — you're the successor of that damned saint!!"
The mad believer in the Demon King stared at Leon, then at Terminus Est.
Thousands of years ago, the Demon King had been defeated by a saint wielding that very sword. For a fanatic who worshipped the Demon King, seeing it again was blasphemy — and his fury ignited instantly.
"It's true this sword is that sword," Leon admitted, "but I have no interest in being anyone's 'successor.'"
He added that casually while glancing toward the beautiful girl with black hair and blue eyes standing on the altar. She was holding a strange, black-and-violet sword.
With the treasure-appraisal skills Leon had honed over the years, he recognized it instantly — the very reason he'd come here. The Sword of the Demon King.
As a swordsman, his heart began to race.
Leon's eyes narrowed unconsciously, and he licked his lower lip.
This sword… it can make my heart pound.
You have to understand — for Leon, a sword like that was more than a weapon; it was a calling.
At the same time, the old man across from him looked stunned. He raised his thin arms toward the ceiling and cried out ecstatically:
"Destiny! Yes! This is destiny! In this era where the two legendary swords appear at once, the battle between the Saint and the Demon King shall be fought anew! Ahhh! To witness such glory — what an honor!"
"Wow. Seems even your brain's infected," Leon said flatly.
"This time, the Demon King will not lose!" the man shouted. "Successor of the Saint, your defeat is inevitable! Do you want to know why? Because this newly reborn Demon King is a prodigy — trained by us since childhood!"
"Ohh~~ really?"
Leon clapped weakly, almost yawning.
"Hmph! You act so calm — befitting the Saint's heir! But let's see if you can keep that smug face when they appear! Come forth!"
In the next instant, four beautiful women materialized.
Each one had cold, emotionless eyes — just like the assassin girls Leon had rescued before — but the murderous intent radiating from them was far stronger. Their magic power was several times greater than that of ordinary people, almost comparable to the members of Night Raid.
"What a lovely group of girls," Leon said with mild admiration.
"Hmph! They've all been carefully trained by us. They shall serve as the right and left hands of the future Demon King! You may have a skilled subordinate of your own, but we still outnumber you!"
The man burst into manic laughter.
Those four assassin girls exuded an aura rivaling mid-level Night Raid members — polished into perfect killing machines.
And finally, there was the girl holding the magic sword.
"Ren Ashbell," said the brunette with blue eyes.
"Hahaha! Behold! This is the new Demon King we raised — and her four guardians! Are you afraid? If you beg for mercy now—"
"You talk too much. Shut up," Leon said expressionlessly.
Boom!
Tired of hearing the man's deranged monologue, Leon raised his hand and shot him in the abdomen before he could finish.
His eyes were cold — deathly cold.
What beautiful, pitiful creatures these five girls were.
Each of them had been kidnapped from somewhere in the world by these beasts who didn't even deserve to be called human — their emotions, childhood, and sense of self completely destroyed.
All for the sake of an absurd belief in a so-called Demon King, they'd been molded into weapons since birth.
What a vile man.
"!!!" ×5
The five elite assassins widened their eyes. Before they could react, they saw their "Headmaster" collapse, grievously wounded.
Acting on instinct, they attacked Leon from all sides — front, back, left, and right — a simultaneous strike that could kill even a high-level expert instantly.
But Leon was no ordinary man. He wasn't just "first-class."
He was a King — standing at the peak of humanity's power.
"Spatial Confinement."
Leon's voice was calm.
In the next second, everything around him — even the air molecules — froze completely.
[I can't move!]
[What kind of power is this?!]
[How did he do that?!]
[What's happening?!]
The girls were utterly paralyzed.
They realized in horror they couldn't even blink or move their mouths. It was as though every part of their bodies was bound by invisible chains.
The only thing they could still do — was think.
In this sealed space, only Leon could move freely.
He looked at each of them gently, almost pityingly, and then reached out, placing his hand on their heads one by one.
"It's alright. From now on, you're free again. I'll cut away the chains that bind you."
"In my name, I command you — forget all sorrow, return to your pure and unblemished selves, and embrace a new future."
"!!!" ×5
Leon met each of their eyes in turn — his gaze both kind and absolute.
He distorted and erased their grief.
In that moment, they changed — from beautiful, tragic assassins and a false Demon King into what they once were: pure, untainted girls.
When their memories vanished, they collapsed to the floor unconscious — still clutching their weapons even as they slept: sword, bow, daggers, and that black-violet magic blade.
"What… what have you done?!" the fanatic roared.
"Huh? You're still alive?" Leon asked, frowning.
"Impossible! Not even the Saint from a thousand years ago could wield such power!"
The Demon King's believer stared in horror, realizing that his so-called future Demon King and her four assassins — his life's work — had all been erased in an instant.
Defeated by a single sentence… was this not a nightmare?
Leon brought him back to reality by driving his hand through the man's chest — silencing the disgusting heartbeat that offended his ears.
"As I said, I'm not the successor of any saint. I am who I am — neither saint nor demon… but a man who commands both."
As he spoke, Leon drew the Vorpal Sword and poured his magic into it.
The contract was completed in seconds, and a purple crest appeared on the back of his left hand.
"No… it can't be…"
A second before death, the fanatic's eyes widened in disbelief.
That boy was holding both legendary swords!
Something far beyond the existence of either the Saint or the Demon King.
(End of Chapter)
Merry Christmas everyone!! I'm a few days late but it still counts haha