Chapter 215: Moving Natural Disaster
Why does that Demon King possess such terrifying dark power within her body?
Why does that force feel so familiar to me?
Could it be that the power within the other party's body is the result of fusing with the corrupting divine power from the Land of Fallen Gods?
Once the idea takes hold, the possibility becomes increasingly strong.
This means that the threat level of that Demon King has reached an unprecedented level.
"Grandma, how many of these stones do you have left?"
Although he was old enough to be the ancestor of the stall owner in front of him, Kurtz still asked in a gentle tone.
The old woman's eyes lit up as she noticed his interest: "Not much, just this small box. I got them from those reckless young adventurers. They're always active in the Western Regions, and they're foolishly bold."
According to her, the adventurers had ventured to the outer edge of the Land of Fallen Gods, about a dozen miles away.
They discovered that the central black mist had dissipated considerably, and the ground was scattered with broken stones and strangely shaped monster bones worn by erosion. They brought back some samples; the bone fragments sold for a high price, but the stones found no buyers.
"Are they in town now?" Kurtz pressed.
The old woman paused in thought. "They usually stay at the hotel for quite a while. But young man, I advise you not to ask too many questions. That's where the Godslayer and the gods fought their final battle; it's a forbidden zone for life. Those adventurers were lucky; otherwise, just getting close would drive anyone mad."
"Thank you," Kurtz said with a smile, placing a gem on the stall. It was enough to buy the materials Serie had selected and the small box of black stones. "We'll take them all."
He pocketed the box and turned toward the street. After leaving the stall, the atmosphere between the two became noticeably heavy.
"What are you thinking about?" Serie asked coldly.
Judging from Kurtz's series of questions and his purchase of the stones, she had guessed that he must have figured something out.
"Do you remember, I told you that the Demon Kin..Queen had a familiar aura, and she possessed strong, corrupting magic?"
Serie nodded. "Yes. That's why you didn't choose to kill her back then."
"I suspect that the corrupting magic in her body is the eroding divine power left over from the Goddess of Fertility in the Land of Fallen Gods."
Serie's breath stopped for a moment. She had personally experienced just how terrifying the corrosive divine power there was. Even Athos's barrier couldn't withstand this power. How could anyone in this world possibly contain such power within their own body?
"How is that possible?" she retorted instinctively. "How did she do that?"
"I don't know." Kurtz shook his head.
"Is it possible that they used the Schlacht method?" Serie offered carefully. She was referring to magic that allowed a person's body to temporarily bear the power of faith and strengthen them, even overriding the attribute conflict between dark magic and faith within a demon's body.
"It's different," Kurtz explained. "The power of faith is a passive form of destruction. As long as you don't try to bear it with your body, it generally won't cause too much damage."
"Otherwise, I wouldn't dare to use the Light of El to bear this power."
The Light of El was currently located in the secluded cabin they shared. The main reason for not returning it to the Kingdom of El was to guard against that mysterious and unpredictable Demon King.
When the moment came that he had no choice but to kill that Demon King, he would need to use the power of the three holy swords, Athos, Org, and El Light, simultaneously to seal the corrupting forces within him.
Kurtz had even begun to consider searching for the legendary sword of the hero.
After all, that Demon King had clearly affected the existence of the entire world. Theoretically, the conditions for the other party to pull out should have been met.
He continued, "The power of erosion is completely different. It is an active form of destruction. Not to mention using the body to bear it, even a holy sword will be eroded in reverse and collapse."
"Then how did she manage to do it?" Serie asked, frowning.
Kurtz hesitated. "Unless... she herself is the embodiment of these powers... No, never mind what I said."
Miss Elf pouted. She hated it most when this man would only say half of what he meant.
Kurtz's gaze remained distant. "If it really was her who did it, then she is probably close to completely merging with the power of the Fallen God Land."
"Hmm." He didn't look up, his eyes distant. "That's troublesome. It means that she is now a true moving natural disaster."
He weighed the wooden box in his hand, feeling the negligible traces of erosion. "These fragments are remnants left after divine power polluted the earth, like ashes after a fire."
"What do you think she'll do next?" A sharp glint flashed in Serie's eyes. "Will she come for revenge?"
"I don't know." Kurtz's gaze fixed on the west, toward the Land of Fallen Gods.
"Then now...." Serie looked at him expectantly.
"Let's wait and see," Kurtz said, his gaze sweeping across the market before settling on a specific direction within the city. "Let's go to the inn the stall owner mentioned and ask those adventurers what they saw."
Serie nodded in approval of his approach.
...
The northern part of the mainland.
In stark contrast to the bustling magic city, this place was filled with the tranquility of a primeval forest, where even life was scarce.
An elven village sat peacefully in the forest, a settlement that had existed here for thousands of years, living free from worldly strife.
But at this moment, that tranquility shattered completely.
Demonic flames crashed into the village like meteorites, instantly igniting several treehouses. Thick smoke billowed upward, and flames shot into the sky. The defensive magic hastily erected by the elves was teetering on the brink of collapse under the onslaught of attacks, threatening to shatter at any moment.
On an open space not far from the village, a tall figure stood watching silently as his men launched their assault.
Balzac, the most bloodthirsty general in the Demon King's army.
His body, covered in black armor, exuded a nauseating stench of blood. He grinned maliciously, and with each spell he cast, the elves' defensive magic shattered effortlessly. Some elves who hadn't even had time to erect a defense were blasted away, their fates unknown.
"Weak! Too weak!" Balzac's voice dripped with disdain. "This so-called legendary race, most skilled in magic? They're utterly pathetic!"
He glanced at the white-haired elf slumped helplessly beneath a nearby tree.
"You're strong. You actually forced me to use the Demon King's blessing! But that's enough for now. Now, just watch how I destroy this village!"
He opened his mouth and took a deep breath. The surrounding magic gathered within it, forming a continuously compressing dark purple energy ball.
This was clearly some innate magic of his.
[End of Chapter]