The Heavenly Demon Can’t Live a Normal Life

Chris didn’t ask. Roman Dmitry was informing him of the danger that would come from this incident, but it sounded like he trusted him. It was overwhelming. It was a dangerous position, but it was worth going to.

“Chris. This trip to Valhalla has been a series of dangers from the start until the end. Valhalla will never stay still from making us stop and head back to Dmitry, but we need to be sending a clear message through this. Both on the eve and on the main stage of the festival. If we defeat the warriors of Valhalla and win, and if we go through the enemies and return alive, the value of those who follow and trust Dmitry will be unshakable.”

Someone might ask him, did he have to go that far? Even if he had refused Valhalla’s invitation from the start, Roman Dmitry had already created a bond of trust with them.

In a safe place, giving orders was enough. If Roman Dmitry’s goals could have been safe from the ambitions of the empire, there might have been other options too. But the purpose of this was different from the start.

Roman Dmitry considered the empire, which people thought was untouchable, as an ‘equal opponent,’ and therefore, he didn’t want to step back even a little. If they attacked him, he would hit them back the same way.

Their dirty conspiracies—even if he knew about them, he would trample on them. His decisions, which others called reckless, would surely become a springboard for higher goals.

And Roman Dmitry said,

“I will defeat Barbossa so that not a single person questions us. So you will also head out on stage on the eve of the festival to prove your existence. I don’t want cowardly wins. Cut the heads of all twenty-nine warriors with your own hands so that no one will doubt the sword of Roman Dmitry.”

The order fell. It was a mission for which he had to risk his life, yet Chris raised his voice, feeling excited.

“According to your order, I will raise the fame and name of Dmitry on the stage on the festival’s eve.”

Cutting the heads of twenty-nine people was a reckless order. Rationally, it was absolutely impossible, but he had no doubt about the fact that it was Roman Dmitry’s order.

Trust. Even when he first stepped out as a warrior at Lawrence, it led to victory in a match that people thought was impossible. Looking back at the steps he had taken until now, there wasn’t a single thing he did that felt possible.

When the Southern Front collapsed because of Hector, the war against the rebels led by Marquis Benedict, and the all-out war with the Kronos Empire—each of them produced a huge result that would be written down in history.

A person’s limit was determined by their experience. Even the warriors of Valhalla were trying to save themselves at the beginning, but Chris had a completely different idea.

‘To cut down all twenty-nine people, I can’t hesitate at all. I have to deal with the enemies from the start and let them be wary of me. Come to me so that I can swiftly cut your exposed necks.’

His defeat was ruled out. A strong desire rose, and Chris kicked the ground.

At the unexpected sight, the warrior who tried to respond swiftly had his neck slashed.

Flash.

‘Flash.’

Extreme Swift Sword.

The opponent couldn’t even properly check how to wield his sword. When the other warriors looked confused at the head floating in the air, Chris jumped up and cut off another warrior’s head.

It all happened in an instant. Less than 10 seconds had passed since the flag was waved, and the audience burst into cheers.

“WOAHHHHHHH!”

“INSANE!!!!!”

“Chris! Go!”

At that fleeting moment, all the warriors turned to Chris. Even though they weren’t together, they instinctively realized that they had to deal with the most prominent being.

Thirty fights—the stage on the festival’s eve was like that. They noticed each other and minimized battling with others, except for Chris.

Roarrrr.

“Come on.”

No matter how the others reacted, Chris didn’t stop. He raised his aura high, dealt with those who blocked him, and avoided the attack of the opponents with a simple step.

All of them were swordsmen, representing each family. There were various swordsmen from 2 to 4-stars, but they couldn’t respond to Chris’s attack.

Flash.

And a head was cut off. As he noticed it but wasn’t able to respond, Chris’s sword technique entered the realm of irrationality.

In the last few months, Roman Dmitry foreshadowed a special training. The soldiers showed expectations for growth even though they knew it would be difficult, but within a few minutes, their excitement was crushed.

In addition to the tight training schedule, Chris always had Roman Dmitry as a sparring partner, and when Roman Dmitry would fight against him in a one-on-one fight or one against all of them.

He coughed up blood, and his face was disfigured. Chris was proud that he had developed in his own way, but when he closed his eyes and opened them, the blue sky filled his field of vision.

It was a grueling time. He knew that Roman Dmitry was a special person, but when he faced him in person, he realized he was an opponent Chris couldn’t follow.

If the difference between them were of this level, they wouldn’t know if they would be much of a help to Roman Dmitry in the future.

That was why Roman Dmitry’s soldiers were desperate. Even if he was beaten terribly every day, he didn’t choose any means or methods to somehow become stronger with eyes full of poison.

It was a series of days when he couldn’t sleep properly. At night, after the assassination arranged by Roman Dmitry, he stayed awake all night, and the day of the decisive battle dawned before he knew it.

In the present, Chris’s sword became sharp. His senses were at their peak, and he reacted sensitively to the enemy’s attacks.

Grrrrr.

Euk.

His life was at risk from all sides. As one warrior swung his sword to decapitate him, another one attacked Chris from behind. The warriors’ simultaneous attack wasn’t intentional, but because Chris was at the front, they all chose to attack at the same time.

‘Behind.’

Flash.

He cut the first swordsman, then he turned around. As he looked at the eyes of the warrior, which were full of shock, Chris cut off his head.

Puak.

Blood fell like rain. Chris’s body heated up. The sight of an enemy killed at the hands of another warrior caught his eye more than the danger he was in.

‘Will I fail to deal with all twenty-nine warriors with my own hands?’

What could he do? Just stick to reality.

Chris kicked the ground. There were still many enemies he had to deal with.

When he had dealt with exactly eight enemies, Chris instinctively raised his sword to block an attack.

Kwang!

Krrrrrrng.

“A fucking bug, without knowing the subject, is running rampant.”

It was Gonzales. Following Viscount Jonathan, he looked at Chris and revealed his murderous intent.

“I get upset whenever I see people like you. Those born in small nations compete with one another, so they constantly think they are the best. It is like that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t dare act like this on the stage against Valhalla’s warriors.”

It was a special order. Viscount Jonathan told him to kill Chris, but he already didn’t like him even if he wasn’t given the order. It was a stage where he had to be the main character. He was genuinely angry at the spotlight that Chris was getting.

“I’ll make it impossible for you to run amok anymore.”

Wheik.

Grrrrng!

His 4-star aura exploded. It was different from the overwhelming force that the previous opponents had.

The moment the air around the aura distorted to pressure Chris, a light flashed in his eyes. He felt goosebumps rise for a moment. He instinctively turned his head, and he felt a stinging shock near his eyes.

Pak.

“…?!”

The attack just now couldn’t be seen. He expected the other warriors to collapse, but Chris’s attack was faster than he had expected. Gonzales bit his teeth and increased his speed.

As if proving that he wasn’t slow compared to Chris, he blocked the space that the opponent could use to attack, and an aura flashed. Everyone’s attention was focused on that part of the fight, and it looked like Gonzales was pushing Chris back one-sidedly.

However, Gonzales felt something strange. In terms of aura, he had the advantage, but Chris didn’t show any signs of being shaken by the swarming attacks.

Chris’s sparring partner was Roman Dmitry. He was a monster who was able to kill Morales at once. Roman Dmitry pushed Chris to the limit each time, and due to that experience, the 4-star aura wasn’t a threat.

But that didn’t mean that it wasn’t dangerous. Indeed, in a showdown of power, Gonzales had the upper hand, but Chris knew that aura wasn’t absolute. No matter how strong someone was, the winner would be the one who could cut down the other’s body first.

Chris calmly responded to the opponent’s attack, then extended his sword in a lightning-swift movement.

“What!”

Grrrng!

Gonzales’s reaction was swift. The moment he tried to block Chris’s attack and retrieve his sword, he witnessed a smile on Chris’s lips.

Kwaang!

Aura Explosion. Chris created his own technique by using Roman Dmitry’s cleverness in battle and the secret technique that Knights’ Captain Jonathan taught him.

Both were skills that pursued extreme speed, and in order to defeat enemies stronger than him in the coming chaos, he was trying to utilize both of their positive points.

At first, he would use the power to rush through space and then use mana right after. At that moment, when the enemy would react, he would change the direction of his attack and use Knight Commander Jonathan’s dodging technique.

There were two explosions. Roman Dmitry, who confirmed the technique, looked down at Chris and said,

“Wonderful.”

Chris built his own world. His sword, which drew an odd path, blew away Gonzales’s head, which was stained with shock.

Puak.

Blood splashed, and the people were shocked. Gonzales was someone whom everyone determined to be a candidate for the championship, and they never imagined his head would be cut off so easily.

‘There are nine people now.’

Yet he was feeling hungry for more. Gonzales was just one of the nine.

To Chris, defeating an opponent stronger than himself didn’t hold a special meaning.

It was something no one could imagine. It was so different from Roman Dmitry. If Roman Dmitry had been defeating Rankers all this time, the reputation of the person called Dmitry’s Flash was as insignificant as a stone on the side of the street.

3-star—it was a skill that one couldn’t hope to win with. Everyone thought so, but the way Chris showed it was thrilling to them.

“Die!”

Grrrng!

The warriors rushed from all sides. The end of the eve of the festival was always like this. The remaining warriors would join forces to defeat a potential winner, and that opponent was Chris, whom they considered a stranger.

Chris didn’t retreat a single step from the enemies’ attacks. Even if roaring auras were heading towards him, he faced them head-on, avoiding their attacks and slashing them back.

Blood splashed. Chris, who was drenched in blood before realizing it, was in a state of trance as he exchanged clashes with the enemies.

Each time his sword moved, the enemies died. Seeing him step on each of them, the people began to cheer for Chris.

“Chris! Chris!”

“Chris! Chris!”

It wasn’t because of Roman Dmitry’s background. It was because of Chris himself. He rightly deserved the recognition.

When people’s emotions reached their peak, Chris finally cut off the head of the last enemy.

Clench.

That was the end. The people went crazy. On the stage where blood had rained, the winner who survived until the end was an outsider. And everyone focused on him.

Now, it was the winner’s turn to show courtesy to the Emperor and receive honor and wealth.

However, Chris knelt down and offered his sword.

“That!”

“W-What is that?”

The people were shocked.

The one at the end of Chris’s gaze wasn’t the Emperor of Valhalla, but Roman Dmitry.