Inside a certain fortress along the front line.
Within a massive, sealed chamber under constant surveillance, guarded around the clock by layers of watchful sentries.
"Boom!"
As the sigil before him suddenly exploded, the man tasked with guarding this place stiffened and quickly turned his gaze to the plaque beside the shattered sigil.
---
[Faction: Earth Church – Aruna Diocese]
[Name (Age/Gender/Race): Kermuth Bront (239 years old / Male / Human)]
[Rank: Legendary Priest, Legendary Mage]
[Assignment: 75th Front Line, 15th Support Squad]
---
With a heavy sigh, he gently rubbed the emerald ring on his finger and murmured,
"A legendary priest of the Earth Church has fallen. I'll send over his details immediately—get someone to fill his post as soon as possible. He's the first legendary rank casualty of this demon tide."
Before long, a calm female voice responded from the ring:
"Understood. I'll coordinate with the Earth Church."
This chamber's primary function was to monitor the status of every elite combatant stationed across the front lines. It ensured accurate tracking of personnel and prevented enemy infiltration through assassinations and impersonation.
One of the man's key responsibilities was to report these deaths to the higher command, who would then redistribute forces based on regional combat conditions to plug any gaps in the defense.
---
After stumbling out of the portal, the Beastman's expression was grim. His friend had just died before his very eyes—and he had been powerless to stop it.
When Orsaga's fist tore through the earth, sending foes flying into the sky, he had known immediately: even if he and Kermuth fought side-by-side, they stood no chance. The gap in strength and technique was just too vast.
They weren't even playing in the same league.
He had tried to grab Kermuth and flee, but Orsaga hadn't given them the chance. His fist had been faster than the Beastman's reaction, shattering every one of Kermuth's defenses and killing him instantly—no dodging, no struggle.
Gritting his teeth, the Beastman had been forced to escape alone. He knew that staying would only mean another death. Unless a demigod stepped in, no one else could hope to stop Orsaga.
Now standing at his pre-designated return point within the front lines, the Beastman's face darkened. Without wasting a second, he rushed toward the command center. He had to report Orsaga's abnormal power immediately. If the others mistook him for a typical High Rank Demon, the cost would be catastrophic.
---
Orsaga paid no mind to the fleeing Beastman. Although he could roughly guess what the survivor would do next, it didn't concern him in the slightest.
After such a workout, both body and mind felt invigorated.
His battle-hardened frame, long dormant for decades, was now itching to let loose.
Narrowing his eyes, Orsaga picked out every enemy within a radius of dozens of kilometers.
It didn't take long to locate a suitable target.
He casually caught a massive falling boulder—about fifteen meters tall and ten meters wide—plummeting from the sky. With the aid of his magic, he compressed its size to one-thousandth of its original volume, polishing its jagged surface until it gleamed like crystal.
Then, with the motion of hurling a cannonball—
The projectile ignited as it sped through the air, trailing a bright crimson tail like a meteor, scorching the sky and leaving the acrid scent of burning rock in its wake.
The air around it twisted into a spiraling tornado, roaring with an earsplitting shriek.
Anything caught in its path—whether an abyssal demon or native lifeform—was shredded into a storm of blood and flesh. Even the earth itself was carved into a deep trench by the wind's razor-edged force, as if a giant drill had torn through it.
---
Flicking blood from his still-wet blade, the dark elf Emosen gave the demons surrounding him a sneer of disdain. He knew these high Rank Demons, though threatening in a group, were doomed by their very nature.
Their instincts made true cooperation impossible. The idea of sharing victory or loss? Laughable.
In situations like this, against a powerful foe, they'd likely scatter before long.
So while it looked like he was outnumbered, in reality, the odds weren't so bad. As long as he could endure the initial rush, the rest would be easy.
As a seasoned Demigod, Emosen—whether due to his race's nature or his own preference—tended to avoid duels with greater Rank Demons, who were at least equal to him in power.
He much preferred bullying those weaker than himself.
It was safer, more comfortable, and still allowed him to earn solid combat merit. And no one could say he wasn't doing his duty.
---
"Rumble..."
Just as he was about to casually mock the demons around him, a thunderous roar erupted from the sky.
He turned to look—and was stunned to see a massive, semi-circular chunk of land had somehow been hurled into the air.
In the next second, before he could fully process it, the enormous mass shattered like a fragile sandcastle, breaking into countless fragments and raining down in a storm of debris.
Hesitating for a moment, debating whether to investigate, Emosen suddenly felt a wave of naked malice radiate from the heart of that destroyed landmass.
With it came an overwhelming sense of danger, as if someone had pressed a blade to his throat—his hairs stood on end.
Without hesitation, driven by instinct, he swung his weapon with full force. A hundred-meter-long blade of energy extended outward, slicing through a molten boulder—already glowing red-hot from atmospheric friction.
"Sizzle..."
Like red-hot steel plunging into ice, an immense cloud of steam exploded where the two collided.
Although the boulder was split in two, the impact had triggered the magic within, dispersing it into a swarm of burning droplets that rained across hundreds of meters.
Anything they touched—flesh, earth, or stone—was equally devoured by Orsaga's incredibly corrosive magic.
Reacting instantly, Emosen used a secret technique of the dark elves to dive into the Shadow Realm, narrowly avoiding the blast and reappearing over a kilometer away.
One thing was certain: he was being targeted by an immensely powerful enemy.
Returning to the physical world and bracing himself—
He froze.
Just a few meters ahead stood a figure that shouldn't be there.
Though far smaller than most large-bodied monsters, the sheer presence and malice emanating from the stranger was suffocating.
Cold sweat beaded on Emosen's dark brow.
He couldn't even clearly gauge the stranger's power level—but he recognized the face.
This was the very high Rank Demon he had just dismissed.
__
T/N:
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