Ficool

Chapter 12 - Chapter: 12

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Translator: Ryuma

Chapter: 12

Chapter Title: Get Out of the Way, Sheep of the Pantheon!

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[Run away, you worm! I prefer hunting!]

"Then how about this?"

Fernandez dodged the Demidraco's thick forearm and dove into its bosom. Its yellow eyes widened.

-Petrification incantation. Careful...

"I know!"

Fernandez avoided its gaze and slipped past its side. It was a dash lighter than he could have imagined. While the Demidraco hesitated, he thrust his dagger into its cervical vertebrae.

"Guh!"

[Graaaaaah!]

-Splatter!

The dagger caught between its scales and wouldn't come free. It sank deep into the gap in the demon's thick spine. Fernandez shook his wrist and retreated.

[You worm!]

Fernandez picked up a fallen arrow from the ground and snapped it. He clamped the arrowhead between his knuckles and charged straight at it.

[You bastard!]

-Petrification!

"Shh!"

Fernandez's forearm began to stiffen. He twisted his numb elbow by force and swung his fist straight into the demon's face.

-Thud!

[Grahhh!]

The arrowhead plunged deep into its eyeball. The Demidraco staggered back. Fernandez pressed in deeper and swung his intact left arm.

-Boom!

"This thing's lethal?!"

-You're getting into it.

The Demidraco's long, hard lizard head sprayed green blood repeatedly as it whipped around. Fernandez swung his petrified right arm and left arm without stopping.

[W-Wait! S-Stop!]

-Boom!!

The Demidraco's gaping maw was crushed by the rock-hard fist. No matter how tough a demon's hide, for a young specimen like this, it was just tender flesh compared to a fist baptized in Demonica rites.

[Who the hell are you!]

"Do you need to know?"

-Boom!

With its face swollen and bleeding, the Demidraco trembled and backed away. Impressive durability. Fernandez felt his knuckles throbbing.

A normal person's head would have burst after three hits from that iron fist. Just from training in basic martial arts and survival skills, this miraculous body could output this much power.

For the first time, Fernandez thought it was a blessing to be Demonica as he dove into the Demidraco's bosom again.

[D-Don't come!]

"Got it!"

Fernandez circled behind the Demidraco and gripped the dagger embedded in its cervical area. With his left arm half-recovered from petrification, he seized the handle firmly, twisted, and yanked it out.

[Graaaaaah!]

-Splatter!

Green, sticky blood gushed out. Fernandez, drenched in green blood, shook off the dagger. The Demidraco panted and knelt.

-Thud!

"Urk!"

"All right, demon. How old are you?"

"I-I've lived 150 years. Time you humans can't even dream of..."

"Yep, young indeed."

-Crack!

[Kraaaah!]

Fernandez stabbed the dagger into the Demidraco's chest. The short blade scraped against its sternum, making an odd noise. The Demidraco convulsed and collapsed.

Fernandez placed his foot on the hilt buried in the demon's chest. The demon twitched and foamed at the mouth.

"Say hi to Sadarkelia for me."

"...Urk...?"

"Tell her I'll be visiting soon!"

Fernandez stomped down on the dagger in the Demidraco's chest and laughed heartily. He felt like a proper martial artist from a righteous fist school! He knew the thrill of crushing the weak, of course.

'Even for a young one, this is impressive against a demon.'

The Demidraco convulsed briefly, then faded while vomiting blood. Phase out. The forced return of a critically wounded demon. It seeped back into the depths of Hell's Sixth Layer.

Fernandez cackled and sat down heavily. Fatigue flooded his body. From the tension of battle and the lingering hellish mana.

"Walking three days and nights is less exhausting than this?"

-Capturing a demon? Obviously.

"See? This choice works just fine."

-A mage would've torn you to shreds before you blinked.

"At this age?"

-...

Fair enough. Fernandez was currently in the body of a 16-year-old boy. Defeating a hellish demon alone at this age would make him a budding great hero in any epic tale.

"Up we go. Let's move."

He had no idea what Zephys had done at the baron's house to summon demons. But seeing young specimens like this, it didn't seem too dangerous.

Heretica's terror lay in persistence, will, and official influence. Demonica, however, were the Inquisition's secret weapons, with no public sway.

Religiosa Demonica had one strength.

Raw power.

Zephys, the most veteran among veterans, wouldn't struggle against mere young demons.

That left Fernandez with other tasks.

*

Gloridein was a great city, with well-built sewers typical of such places. As old as the city itself, the tangled underground sewers were ignored by all.

Except demon cults.

In one tunnel of the toxic, sewage-filled sewers, men in long robes gathered.

"Another one dead? That monster knight?"

"No, seems like his squire..."

"Damn, where the hell did these bastards come from?"

"Maybe from some knight order?"

"Why would a knight order suddenly hit us? We haven't done anything yet. You, what did you do?"

"Killed a slave or two...?"

As the men muttered and stared at the crystal orb, blood-red runes covering the sewer walls flashed.

[Enough. Silence, you incompetents.]

"Eek!"

A sharp voice, evoking instinctive revulsion like hundreds of snakes hissing, filled the sewer.

[Inquisitors.]

"Y-Yes? But we killed that one!"

[Do you think there was only that fool? I've heard rumors. Of humans who aren't quite human.]

"W-What should we do, Lady Sadarkelia...?"

Red lightning flashed.

[They're far from finding this place. Mobilize human armies. Guard it! Hasten the ritual. We still need more hearts.]

"Y-Yes!"

[Those who oppose me aren't the first, nor the last. Summon me. Quickly!]

The robed men scattered in panic. The light filling the sewer gradually dimmed.

-Drip.

Blood from human corpses strung up like laundry dripped one drop at a time into a wide brass bowl on the altar. With each filling, the altar's glow intensified slightly.

[It won't be long... This body shall rise again and bring ruin to this world.]

Lizards and snakes hissed as they dispersed into the tunnels.

*

"Demon summoning? What demon? Do you know how many sacrifices it takes to call a proper one?"

"R-Right! I was shocked too! To think anyone would actually try that—as a law-abiding citizen and neighbor, how could I believe it!!"

Fernandez lifted and shook the thoroughly beaten man with one arm, deep in thought.

"No beastkin women? Freshly twenty? Blue fur, I heard. Green eyes."

"U-Uh... You into furry girls? A-Among the dancers I keep, there are some hot ones..."

-Thud!

"Argh! Th-There were about three!!!"

Fernandez poked the man's bloated belly. It jiggled, and the man's pants grew wet. Fernandez grimaced and sat him back in the chair.

"Hey, help me gear up."

"Y-Yes, sir knight!"

The innkeeper, missing a finger, trembled as he armed Fernandez with armor and weapons. Every time Fernandez's muscles twitched, the innkeeper shook harder.

"Damn it. Try any funny business again?"

"S-Sorry!"

Fernandez had arrived at the [Running Horsehoof] inn and immediately severed the innkeeper's finger.

Not because he was some blood-mad lunatic, but because his luggage and weapons were gone from his room.

The finely honed gear would fetch a fortune. And the innkeeper apparently wanted payback for the evening's humiliations.

In exchange for sparing his life, Fernandez took his gear and the man's index finger.

Slipping the hefty two-handed sword onto his back felt reassuring. He knew nothing of proper swordsmanship, but technique was meant to overcome raw power anyway.

'Demonica output means no need for fancy tricks.'

He counted his daggers in the shoulder bag. Then, frantic footsteps sounded outside.

-Bang!

"Hm?"

"Oh, Balthazar. Any results?"

"Some, but what the hell have you been up to, Sir Arcangelo?"

"Sliced some demons."

Zephys kicked open the door, covered in green and red blood. Massive noise came from outside—at least thirty men.

"Quite the tail you've got."

"Cut as many as I could, but still plenty left."

"Planning to kill them all?"

"Do I look like some blood-crazed demon worshiper? Most don't even know demons or heresies exist."

Zephys crossed the room, pulling a shield and mace from the luggage. The thick steel mace gleamed ominously. He glanced at the beaten man.

"Who's this?"

"Oh, introduce yourself, Jason."

"Eek! H-Hello, sir!!!"

"New friend?"

"Would've been great if he weren't a demon worshiper."

Zephys slung the mace over his shoulder and approached Jason, who trembled.

"What'd you learn?"

"Culthood of Demdrizad. Buying up slaves or kidnapping vagrants for sacrifices. Sir Carterio probably fell to them."

"Location?"

"Was thinking of checking Baron Sebastian's mansion at least..."

"No need."

Zephys smirked. Footsteps of guards rose from the inn's first floor.

"Baron Sebastian knew nothing useful. Didn't talk much before dying."

"Jason, my friend. Got any real info? Time for goodbyes?"

"Sp-Spare me! Please! I know! I know!!"

"Yeah? You do?"

As Fernandez rested a dagger on Jason's thigh and began scraping, Jason shrieked while shaking.

"Underground! They're doing something underground!"

"Of course an underground cult's underground. Which underground?"

"Market center!! Block thirty! Fourth house down the alley—the door leads straight to the sewers!"

"You guys really excel at making things complicated."

Fernandez stood, looking at Zephys, who smirked.

"You should've gone Heretica instead of Demonica."

"Huh? Can say that now?"

"No point hiding anymore, Brother Balthazar. No sense in it. Demonica don't hide anyway."

-Boom!

Zephys suddenly hurled the mace at the door. The wooden door shattered, smashing the city guard behind it.

"I'll hold them off. Meet underground."

"Yes, Brother Arcangelo."

"Beitasser's glory, Brother Balthazar. Go!"

"Glory."

Fernandez shattered the window and leaped out. The city center burned. The city was in uproar like street fighting. No single man could cause this.

'What the hell did you do, Zephys!'

Fernandez snickered, eyeing the crowd charging toward him.

"Inquisitor Balthazar! Get out of the way, sheep of the Pantheon!"

He'd always wanted to say that as an inquisitor. Demonica or Heretica—they all said it in moments like this.

-Embarrassing.

'Why? It's tradition.'

Fernandez spotted a man on horseback among the guards, glaring at him. Nobly dressed. And reeking of a familiar scent.

The smell of demons.

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