Charles didn't bother with Meliodas's side; Hendrickson's current magic wasn't enough to defeat Meliodas.
If not for the disgusting rapid regeneration after demonization, Meliodas would've finished the fight already.
Charles stepped onto the battlefield, his flames turning into countless slender threads that extended outward. Under his control, they pierced the bodies of the monsters surrounding Stella and the others.
When the fiery filaments withdrew, each was skewering a grotesque creature—the demon seeds inside the New Generation.
The New Generation knights here had been eroded far less than Del; the demon seeds were merely parasitic, not fused.
So after Charles precisely extracted the demon seeds and burned them to ash, those New Generation knights began returning to normal.
Nodding to Stella, Charles went to Ban's side and yanked him out of the melee.
"Your ability's better suited to dealing with the rampaging New Generation. Leave this side to me!"
Ban nodded in agreement. His magic could yank the demon seeds straight out of their bodies—much more efficient than Charles.
Hendrickson didn't care that his opponent had changed. Empowered by the Demon Clan, he'd swollen with arrogance enough to look down on everyone.
Charles clenched his fist. "All that's left is to take this guy down and our objective's done, right?"
Meliodas nodded. "Yeah. But Hendrickson as he is now won't be easy."
Charles glanced at Meliodas. "He should only have the power of a Red Demon—the lowest rung of the Demon Clan."
Meliodas fell silent. At his peak, he wouldn't even have spared a glance for a Red Demon treated like a servant. But as he was now, a Red Demon was a bona fide formidable foe. And he could hear Charles's subtext—the prophesied Holy War was about to begin. Since he'd decided to end the battle that had dragged on for three thousand years, facing the Ten Commandments was inevitable. Yet with his strength as it was, never mind the Ten Commandments—even a Red Demon was this hard. How was he supposed to sever the chain of war, let alone undo the curse on himself and Elizabeth?
Just as the two lapsed into silence, someone got mad!
"You two are underestimating me way too much!" Hendrickson roared, charging straight at Charles and throwing a punch.
Charles lifted his eyelids impatiently. "Why should I take you seriously?"
With that, he simply lifted his hand and slapped.
Crack!
The sound of snapping bone was so clear even Meliodas heard it. Charles's palm landed on Hendrickson's fist, and his entire arm bent at a grotesque angle.
Hendrickson staggered back. The black markings flowed to his arm; after a few spasms, the broken limb reset and healed.
Even with the arm healed, Hendrickson's expression stayed dark. "What are you, exactly?"
Charles dug a finger in his ear; it felt like others had asked him this a dozen times. His answer was… "Just a traveler passing through."
Hendrickson said coldly, "Then get off the stage, outsider!"
As he spoke, he drew a dagger and unleashed his magic.
Hendrickson's magic was \[Corrosion], a terrifying power that could erase even the soul.
Once magic flooded in, the dagger transformed into a whip of violet-black energy.
It wriggled like a living tentacle.
Without even a swing, the magic whip lashed for Charles and Meliodas.
They dodged in unison, but in midair the whip turned of its own accord, the sharp tip driving straight at Meliodas.
Meliodas crossed his short sword and scabbard to block the thrusting magic whip.
His arms buckled and he was blasted away, while the whip, momentum unspent, stabbed on toward Charles.
Charles raised a hand and caught the whip. The magic that could corrode anything had no effect on him.
A surge of flame poured from his palm and set the entire whip ablaze.
Faced with the spreading fire, Hendrickson hurriedly cut off his magic. At that moment Meliodas also pressed the attack, swinging his short sword down.
Hendrickson was hacked flying, crashing back into the castle behind him.
The outer wall collapsed, revealing the corpse of that grotesque creature inside.
The monster's skin was crimson, its body bloated, two short horns jutting from its head. Even as a corpse hung by iron chains, it still exuded an ominous magical aura.
This should be the Red Demon that attacked the Fairy King's Forest and was killed by Ban. And this was Hendrickson's magic research facility.
Charles took a closer look. No wonder the Demon Clan were shunned by other races. Even leaving aside the nature of their power, just the look was enough to make people uncomfortable.
"Hendrickson, what the hell have you been doing?"
It wasn't Charles or Meliodas who said it, but Dreyfus, popping out from who knew where.
He put on a look of "shock" at Hendrickson and the demon's corpse, as if realizing he'd been deceived only now, and said, "So this is the preparation for the Holy War you talked about?"
Hendrickson sneered. "Don't act like you're so righteous. Don't forget—it was you who killed Zaratras!"
Dreyfus swayed, then said, "Yes, killing my elder brother is a sin I cannot shirk. But you—you're the one I must stop here!"
Charles watched the two of them act and wanted to see just how far they planned to take it.
Dreyfus, looking determined to atone with his all, unleashed the "Heaven-River Prison-Breaking Sword" again. Hendrickson didn't dodge, taking it head-on—and the blow sent him down into the ground.
Not that the slash had cleaved the earth; the ground below was hollow to begin with.
Dreyfus caught his breath, then trudged to the king.
Dropping to one knee, he said in a voice heavy with remorse, "Your Majesty, I was wrong! It wasn't the Seven Deadly Sins who killed the former Great Holy Knight Zaratras—it was I!
"The sin of slaying my brother, the sin of framing others, the sin of rebelling against my king—they are unforgivable. No matter what punishment you mete out, I will accept it."
King Bartra patted Slader's shoulder in front of him, then left Elizabeth's support and walked up to Dreyfus.
"Dreyfus, as you said, your crimes are unforgivable. But Liones still needs you.
I will not pardon you. Atone in the coming war with your merits."
Tears streamed down Dreyfus's face; he really did look sincerely repentant!
Charles really couldn't stand it anymore—but luckily, the next second he sensed a surge of magic behind him.
A figure shot up from the hole in the ground, headed straight for the king and Dreyfus.
"Your Majesty, look out!"
The newly "reformed" Dreyfus moved to shield the king, stopping the shadow—which then revealed itself.
It was surely Hendrickson, but he scarcely looked human now.
His clothes were gone, his lower body wrapped in black energy; his upper body showed gray skin, short horns sprouted from his head, and a pair of small black wings jutted from his back.
Dreyfus looked at Hendrickson, about to speak—when he saw the man flying away. Off to the side stood Charles, leg still extended.
Charles really couldn't stand it. Dreyfus—as piloted by Fraudrin—had excellent acting skills, but knowing the truth, there was no way Charles could appreciate it.
(End of Chapter)
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