Chapter 7: The Demon vs The Saint

Her blade came down in a silver arc, too fast for most eyes to follow. I met it head-on, sparks flaring, then snap.

My sword split in half like brittle firewood.

I froze, staring at the jagged hilt in my hand. …Eh?

The Saint tilted her head, eyes narrowing as if she couldn’t believe I was actually shocked.

“You look surprised. Why?” Her tone was calm, almost pitying. “This is a legendary grade weapon. Naturally, a common blade wouldn’t withstand a clash.”

My mouth went dry. Legendary? Of course. Of course I’d be the idiot to pick a fight with someone holding an endgame weapon while I was swinging around what amounted to a training stick.

“…I didn’t know,” I admitted, scratching my cheek, trying not to sound like a complete fool.

Her brows lifted slightly. “A Demon who didn’t know? Strange. And it's even stranger you rely on a weapon at all. Aren’t your kind supposed to drown their foes in magic?”

That stung a little. She wasn’t wrong. Still, I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.

“Guess I don’t have a choice,” I muttered, tossing the broken hilt aside. “Fine then. Let’s do this your way.”

I raised my hands, threads of dark fire curling between my fingers. Lireath’s voice echoed in the back of my mind, smug and condescending as always: ‘If you can’t kill it elegantly, at least make it flashy.’

So I obliged. Black flames roared across the ground, splitting into whips and lances, darting for her from all angles. The crowd in my head went wild, me included.

But she didn’t even flinch. One clean sweep of her holy blade and the flames split apart like wet paper. She came through the fire, eyes sharp, step unbroken.

I clicked my tongue. “…Tch. Figures.”

She was stronger. Faster. My stats had been butchered inside this damn Holy Domain, halved across the board. The only thing keeping me from being a smoking corpse was the one card she couldn’t cut through: my 10,000x Thought Acceleration.

To me, her blade crawled through the air in slow motion. I could dodge. Just barely. My body lagged behind, my brain screaming move, MOVE as steel kissed skin again and again. If not for that skill, I’d be dead.

Still. I had my pride. So I straightened my back, forced a grin onto my face, and kept my voice calm.

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” I said, as if I wasn’t sweating bullets.

She arched a brow, clearly unamused. “Boast all you want. It won’t save you.”

Another clash. Sparks showered, her sword cleaving through my flames like a hot knife through butter. Every strike rattled through me, every dodge shaved a little more of my stamina.

Inside, my thoughts raced. Okay. Clearly, I can’t overpower her. The Domain’s choking my magic and my strength. I can’t dispel it either… not directly. Which means.

Out loud, though?

I smirked, flipping my blade fragments into my off-hand like it was all part of the plan. “Oh, don’t misunderstand. I’m just holding back, you know? Wouldn’t want to make this boring for you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “…You’re insufferable.”

Good. If she’s annoyed, she’s not thinking as sharply. That buys me time.

But time for what? That was the problem. Because no matter how much I postured, no matter how much I puffed up my aura for farming points, I knew the truth, inside this Domain, I was outclassed.

And unless I figured out a way around it, the only thing legendary about me would be the size of the crater she left in my skull.

Steel hissed through the air again, the Saint’s holy blade cleaving so close I felt my hair singe. I twisted back, letting the edge whistle past my nose, then retaliated with a fist cloaked in black flame.

She parried, of course. Her movements were precise, elegant and almost mechanical. Every slash and thrust pressed me tighter, forcing me on the defensive.

My regeneration lagged under the weight of this cursed Domain. Every cut she scored stayed longer than it should have. My arm stung, my side bled sluggishly. Normally, I’d shrug wounds like these off with a smirk and a stretch. Here? They lingered, mocking me.

But hey, what’s a near-death fight without a little… charm?

I grinned, leaning just a little too casually on my broken sword hilt as she raised her blade again.

“So… do all beautiful women usually try to kill me, or is this just a you thing?”

Her eyes flicked to me, expression flat. “What?”

“Because if you wanted my attention,” I continued, dodging under her strike with a half-spin, “you could’ve just… y’know, asked me out for tea. Instead of carving me up like firewood.”

She didn’t answer immediately. She just stared at me for a long, baffled second then sighed, slashing again with irritation. “That was terrible.”

I felt the sting as her blade grazed my cheek. Ouch. Not from the wound, the wound I could handle. But her words? Yeah, that hit harder.

“Terrible? Hey, that’s one of my best lines!”

“You’re worse at flirting than you are at fighting,” she deadpanned.

That one almost made me stumble. “Excuse me? That’s… unfair slander. You haven’t even seen my final form yet.”

Her lips twitched, like she was actually trying not to smile, but she pressed forward with renewed vigor. Each strike faster, sharper. My lungs burned as I kept slipping out of range by a hair’s breadth.

She was getting agitated. That much was obvious. Even with her Domain crushing me, even with a blade that outclassed mine by a continent, she couldn’t land the finishing blow.

Finally, she pulled back a fraction, her eyes narrowing. “How?”

I blinked, panting, still smirking. “How what?”

“You should be slower,” she said, her voice low, frustrated. “Your body, your reflexes, they’re suppressed. And yet you keep evading strikes you shouldn’t be able to see.”

I rolled my shoulders, casually dodging another lunge, and raised a hand to my temple.

“Trade secret,” I said with a grin. “Let’s just say… my brain’s working about ten thousand times faster than yours.”

Her eyes sharpened. For the first time since the fight began, she smiled. It wasn’t friendly. But it wasn’t cold either.

“…I see. Then you’ve earned the courtesy of my name.”

She drew back a step, lowering her sword slightly, her presence steady and commanding.

“I am Hinako. Captain of the Holy Knights.”

The name hit me like a lightning bolt. My eyes widened. “Wait… Hinako? …As in… Japanese Hinako?”

Her brow furrowed. “What are you”

“Ah, I knew it!” I laughed, a little too gleeful, pointing at her with mock accusation. “It was bugging me this whole time. The way you move, the way you carry yourself , there was no way you were some generic fantasy-world NPC.”

“…What?” she said flatly.

“Answer me straight.” I tilted my head, grin stretching wider. “Are you Japanese?”

Her blade wavered, just for a fraction of a second. “Why are you asking me that?”

I chuckled, chest heaving with both exhaustion and amusement. “Because I am. Born and raised. Tokyo. Amakusa Tengen, at your service.”

Her eyes widened. Just for an instant, her composure cracked. I saw it, recognition, hesitation, hope. She stared at me, studying my face, my name, my voice.

“…Tokyo?” she repeated, voice low.

“That’s right. The land of sushi, anime, and god-awful train schedules. And judging by your name, Hinako, you’re Tokyo stock too, aren’t you?”

Her lips parted. For a heartbeat, she looked… human. Like she wanted to believe me.

But then she steeled herself again, her grip tightening on her sword, her expression hardening.

“No. Impossible. You reek of demonic aura. There’s no way, no way someone like you could come from the same place I did.”

And before I could get another word in, she lunged again, blade whistling straight for my throat.

My lungs burned, my legs screamed, and my wounds refused to knit. Every slash she carved into me lingered, mocking my regeneration. My breathing was ragged, and for the first time since this fight started, I found myself on one knee, staring at the dirt.

Hinako didn’t even look out of breath. She stood there, blade steady, hair flowing like she was posing for a holy knight recruitment poster.

“It’s over,” she said flatly. “Give it up. You can’t win.”

I spat blood, wiped my mouth, and smiled. “Over? Nah. I was just… thinking of trying something stupid.”

Her brows knit as I pushed myself upright, rolling my shoulders like this was a warm-up and not the verge of collapse. “Tell me something,” I said, tilting my head. “This Domain of yours. It’s… absolutely unbreakable, right?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “Unless we Holy Knights release it ourselves, it cannot be undone.”

My grin stretched, sharp and feral. “Perfect.”

“…Perfect?” she repeated, clearly baffled.

“Yeah,” I chuckled, lifting my right hand. Mana prickled against my skin, the air humming as I began pulling every thread of energy around me toward my fingertips. The ground itself quivered, pebbles rattling as if gravity had hiccuped.

Hinako’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”

“Experimenting.”

“Pointless,” she shot back. “Whatever trick you’re attempting, the Domain will negate it.”

I smirked, my focus sharpening as the mana gathered tighter, denser, the world bending around the swelling point of light. “Tell me something else first. How’s your durability?”

“…What?” She blinked.

“My durability’s decent,” I said with a casual shrug, sweat dripping down my jaw as the air grew heavier. “But I need to know yours. So can you take a hit?”

Her frown deepened. “What’s the point of such a ridiculous question?”

“Answer me,” I said, voice cutting through the crackle of unstable energy.

She hesitated, then lifted her chin with knightly pride. “…I am confident in my body’s durability.”

I laughed softly, almost giddy. “Good. That means I can go crazy.”

The pressure around my fingers intensified, a sphere of condensed mana trembling violently as if reality itself rejected it. Sparks scattered. My skin stung, veins throbbing under the strain.

Hinako’s composure cracked. She took a sharp step forward, her eyes widening in recognition.

“No… You’re not actually”

“Gathering surrounding mana to a single point,” I finished for her, my grin stretching wider.

Her face drained of color. “Stop. Stop it immediately! You’ll”

“Blow everything to hell?” I laughed, wild and breathless. “Yeah, that’s the idea.”

She lunged at me, her figure blurring across the field. But she was too late.

“Zero Point.”

The words left my lips like a verdict.

The sphere collapsed in on itself with a soundless implosion then erupted outward with catastrophic force.

The explosion wasn’t fire, or lightning, or anything so tame. It was pure chaos. Space warped, air shredded, and everything within a meter radius simply ceased to exist. The ground cracked like glass, shockwaves tearing through the battlefield.

Smoke and dust swallowed the battlefield. The shockwave had uprooted trees, scattered rubble, and carved a crater where I stood.

Flat on my back, lungs burning, I realized one simple truth.

…I forgot to shield myself.

Every nerve screamed, my body refusing to move. Blood trickled from my lips. For someone who bragged about brains, I’d just detonated Zero Point at point-blank range like a moron.

Across from me, I saw her. The Saint.

She wasn’t standing tall anymore. She was hunched, swaying on her feet, using her sword like a crutch. Blood poured from her mouth, dripping onto the glowing earth, her breathing ragged and uneven.

Yet even like that she radiated danger.

Her eyes locked on mine, burning through the haze. She staggered forward, each step heavy and deliberate, like an injured beast refusing to die.

Despite my own pain, a grin tugged at my lips. “Damn… your durability really is insane.” My voice came out hoarse, broken, but the awe in it was genuine.

She spit blood onto the dirt, her jaw clenched. “…Idiot. No amount of durability can let someone survive that.”

I blinked. “Eh?”

She raised her blade slightly, pointing it at me, though her arm shook. “If I hadn’t erected a barrier and imbued it with my Unique Skill… I would be dead right now.”

Dead?

My grin faltered for the first time. Wait… dead? That wasn’t… the plan. Zero Point was supposed to be destructive, yeah, but not an instant-death card. If she hadn’t had that barrier, I would’ve.

Her gaze sharpened. “…I underestimated you, Demon. That was no trick. That was destruction itself. But” she straightened her back, forcing her body upright like her will alone kept her alive, “I know you’re finished. That Zero Point was your trump card. You have no strength left.”

Her words cut deeper than her sword ever could. I wanted to deny it, to grin, to flex like always… but I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t even respond.

Damn. Was this it? Fifteen years. Fifteen measly years of running, laughing, and doing whatever I pleased. That’s all I get?

She raised her free hand, and the air itself shifted.

Magic circles bloomed in layers, concentric rings of golden light hovering around her. The energy made my skin crawl, pure, divine, absolute. Even my dulled instincts screamed that this wasn’t a spell meant to injure. This was meant to erase.

Her voice rang out clear, steady despite the blood at her lips.

“By the authority of holy genesis, I deny your presence.

By the truth of the void, I undo your being.

Return, before the dawn of time itself”

My breath hitched. The ground cracked beneath me just from the force of her words.

She was going to wipe me out. Not kill me. Not beat me. Erase me. No body. No soul. No trace. Gone like I never existed.

“Rever...”

The circle pulsed brighter

“STOP!!”

A desperate cry tore through the chaos.

The spell faltered as a small body stumbled between us. Torn silks, blood on her cheek, but determination blazing in her young eyes. The Princess.

I blinked in disbelief. The hell is she doing here?

Hinako’s chanting broke, the circle shattering into glittering fragments that dissolved into the air. Her sword wavered in her grip as she turned toward the girl. “Princess”

“He saved us!” the Princess shouted, voice cracking. “Don’t hurt him! He’s the one who defeated those monsters! He protected me!”

The words hung heavy in the silence, louder than the explosion had been.

Hinako froze, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow. “…What?”

The Princess pointed at me, tears streaking her face. “He wasn’t trying to hurt us! If it wasn’t for him, I’d be” she choked on the words, fists trembling, “I’d be dead.”

Hinako’s sword lowered. She turned her gaze back to me, and for the first time, there was hesitation in her eyes.

I coughed, forcing out a crooked grin despite the blood in my mouth. “…See? Told you I wasn’t the bad guy.”

Her expression twisted, anger, confusion, shame all warring inside her. Her grip on the hilt trembled. Could I have been wrong? her eyes seemed to ask.

And then, softly, under her breath: “Japanese… He really might be…”

She clenched her teeth, staring at me with a storm in her gaze. “…But why… Why do you reek of demonic aura?” She said as she stared back at me.

But I was gone. My vision was already dimming, and I had used what little strength I had left to roll onto my side, force my battered body up, and limp away into the forest.

One step at a time.

Slip away while they’re distracted.

"Where did he go??" She asked looking around.