Chapter 163: Do You Wish To See My Power?

“They’re here,” Granuel announced as I cuddled with Moonwash and sat around the living room hellfire with the rest of my family. I looked up at him, and away from Mom, who was just talking about how her and Dad had spent a lot more time with friends in the whole decade I’d been away. Mainly the Piss Hunters, because it was hard to make new friends at their age… and power and influence. They shared way too many differences with… pretty much everyone else.“Is it urgent?” I asked Granuel.

“No… not really. They’ve asked for a meeting, and we still have to schedule it.”

“Oh. Well, do it for tomorrow then. I leave the details up to you.”

“Got it.” He nodded, and then found a place in our circle.

The council’s agents could wait.

I and Granuel entered the private booth of a restaurant. Inside, a whole 5-person party of adventurers was waiting for us, along with an ishkawtan councillor, and some more guards standing at attention along the walls. It would not be enough to save them if I were to condemn them to death.

“Ah, you’re here,” the ishkawtan man said. “Please, take a seat. I am Kronus Abelguard, high councillor of New Grandera.”

“And I am Haell Zharignan, a demon, but you already know that,” I took the offered seat, and Granuel did the same.

“Naturally,” he said from the head of the table. I did know what these stupid seating arrangements meant and what he was trying to convey, but I was confident I would not really have given a shit were it not for my curse. Such subtle and convoluted social maneuvering was beneath me. “You took out an entire manor by yourself, with multiple people who should’ve been higher level than you. I’m still curious about how you’ve done it. Especially since we were the ones trying to rescue you at the time. We never expected you to land the fatal blow yourself.”

“I see,” I replied. “I too am glad to have killed them all.” I did not reveal anything more.

Kronos frowned, but eventually moved the conversation along. Our meals arrived shortly after, and Granuel negotiated with them as we ate. , New Grandera was not yet ready to cede an entire city to me. They were more than willing to have me or anyone I wanted rule it as mayor, but not as an territory. Truth be told, ruling was a pain in the ass and I wouldn’t rule it myself anyway, so I had floated the idea of having Pandemonium be treated as a sort of embassy, therefore my territory, but not including the whole city, as a compromise. And with a mayor of our choosing, of course. But Granuel was actually more invested than I was in making this territory independent now. Even Moonwash cared a little bit more than me because of all the money, and therefore materials, this deal could bring. In the end, I decided to just let them try to get the whole city if they could. I would certainly prefer that anyway because who wouldn’t want to own and seize as much as they possibly could? This world was ripe for the taking, and I shall be the first to seize it all!

not

The Revolutioneers. They were an entirely gold-ranked party of four people. The only adventurer party like that in all of New Grandera. And now they were here as my enemies in a bout to be held in the training grounds of this barracks under the watchful eye of the entire army of soldiers stationed here. All of them wore their fancy adventurer garb, made to be both stylish and highly functional. Meanwhile, I had my off-white armor, now fully repaired by Moonwash from the dregs that remained before, and certainly just as beautiful as any piece of theirs.

Not a single one of the four adventurers were pleased, because Kronus had asked me to prove my prowess by defeating the adventuring party he had brought with him from the capital, and I had implied that it was an easy ask. The Revolutioneers could not accept that truth, and so they stood before me now, thinking that they had a chance. I would quickly disabuse them of that notion.

The crowd around us cheered as we began to take our places. My teeth gnashed as I winced. I liked the crowd, I liked the spectacle, I liked showing off, but this was just stressing me out. It All the shouting and the people, it felt uncharacteristically constraining. Like I was in the dungeon again. Surrounded by enemies. Surrounded by tons of rock.

I took a deep subtle breath. My expression twisted, and my enemies were intimidated. I channeled all that energy into the coming fight.

I charged. I started the duel in much the same way as I always did. My massive greatsword crashed against the towering shield of a heavily armored ogre, and the woman who stood taller than me stumbled and fell from the sheer force I’d produced. It took a second longer for the Revolutioneers to react because of just how fast I had moved. In that time, I’d already positioned myself for another strike, and hit the human archer behind the struggling ogre with the flat of my sword. He was tossed away in a deluge of broken bone, and their human healer quickly rushed to his rescue. The ogre got up, and a crustecar man dashed and zig-zagged around me rapidly while looking for an opening. A massive shield shoved at me from the front, while my crustecar enemy stabbed simultaneously stabbed at me with three rapiers at once, while his big claw tried to close on my legs. I was still much faster than them, in both reflexes and sheer speed, so I stepped away from the shield bash, avoided the rapiers with a quick turn, and then slammed my greatsword on the big claw that swept low.

I ran my blade just a little through the carapace of his head and said, “You’re down.”

The crustecar obediently stepped away from the battle, and then I dodged the arrow that flew from behind my body. I glared at the human man, for I would’ve split his body in half with my earlier strike had I not severely held myself back. He should already be down.

My aura and my evil eyes unleashed their fury upon the ignition of my own. The healer ran back forward to support the ogre. I released a deluge of hellflames upon their heavily armored tank to distract her, and it worked way too easily. The pain left her reeling, and by the time she looked again, I was already gone. I had reached their healer, and stabbed forward, only missing her head by a little. The woman’s helm was still dented, and her head spun from the sheer force of that glancing blow.

“Down.”

“Y-yes…”

Their archer was next, and I smashed my sword heavily in the ground right next to him.

Or do you need me to do it for real?”

He shook his head profusely.

I heard the sound of crashing footsteps behind me, for the ogre had fruitlessly given chase in an attempt to save her one remaining teammate who could still be saved. She narrowed her eyes upon realizing that she was the only one left. She braced her shield and raised her hammer in an attempt to ram me.

I stood there for a single moment, and then willed the blood inside my body to melt as I met her unstoppable momentum with the immovable force of my greatsword.

The ogre woman’s charge stopped. She wobbled on her feet as the layers of metal she wore rang. And then she fell on her ass, in the same way that this fight had begun.

My sword was pressing forcefully right on her helm by the time she realized, and she wisely decided to surrender before I allowed myself to push a little harder and break that metal shell.

“That was very impressive!” Kronus said upon our celebration table. We had agreed to eat in the barracks, and received… about what I’d expected. Massive portions of bread, some meat, and lots of soup, all of a middling quality from what I’d come to expect. But it would probably still be considered good by Earth standards, so I considered myself fine with it.

“It was,” I agreed easily. “So. Has that aptly demonstrated my prowess? Do we have a deal?”

Kronus looked around, and then placed a sound dampener on the center of our table. “Please be mindful of what you say. The people do not yet know we are in talks about this.”

“I see,” I shrugged. “So?”

Kronus paused for a moment. “No… It’s… it’s a lot. It would be enough for me. But it’s already crazy that the council is even considering it. You’ve really made an impression. But it’s still only a small minority who are actually in favor.”

I took a big bite of sandwich. “What do we do about it then?”

“Well…” he searched around. “I think it would be wise to gather more proof of your obviously boundless powers. We don’t currently have a hero of our own, and you… might be on par with one?”

“How did that happen anyway?” The ogre from the earlier party asked. They had no set party leader, for New Grandera didn’t actually require one to form an official party to begin with. “You come off as only being at our level. Maybe even a little below. But it’s almost like we’re fighting something an evolution above us. Hell, the few times I’ve seen level 80s… I think I’d prefer to face them instead of you.”

“Yeah! You’re way too strong!” The archer from their group agreed. “What gives?”

I pointed a bun of bread at him. “ By the way. You should’ve already been down with my first hit. If this were a real fight, then that would’ve killed you. You get that, right?”

“A-ah… well…”

“You won anyway, right?” The crustecar of the group interjected, both sharply but placatingly. “Does it matter?”

I shrugged. “I suppose not. It just… rankled me a bit. Felt like cheating, you know? When I’m already doing my absolute best to hold back and not kill anyone.”

They all had complicated expressions at that. From sour, to insult, acceptance, and even admiration.

“Are you hiding your level?” the crustecar man asked another question. “It’s the only thing I can think of.”

I shrugged again, allowing the change of subject. “Who knows? You’ll have to figure that out on your own.”

“We were insulted to come here, you know?” the healer of The Revolutioneers finally spoke after she’d finished her meal. “Us. The Revolutioneers. A gold-ranked party. Issued a personal quest by the council to test the famous Haell Zharignan. Did they think a single person, no matter how strong, could actually give all four of us a challenge all by themself? It’s ridiculous.”

“Clara…” the crustecar facepalmed. “Why would you tell her that?”

“Oh.” She blushed a little. “I’m just… still incredulous.”

And I felt so good about that. A little annoyed that they hadn’t believed in me, but why the fuck would they? I should only take pride in how I had absolutely wiped the floor, and along with it, the arrogance, of those who stood at the top of New Grandera.

They discussed it among themselves a little more, and I rarely interjected as I allowed their words to only feed my ego more. It was a dangerous thing they were doing. They should really stop.

“Can you take out an entire goblin nest?” Kronus asked eventually. We had already moved venues to a more suitable private restaurant booth. “Your offer is to be instrumental in entire engagements, yes? So I believe that seeing you take on an army, would be most persuasive to my peers.”

I considered the ishkawtan man for a few long seconds.

“Well. I haven’t taken a quest in a long time. How about an official personal quest from the guild?”

“Ah. That can certainly be arranged,” he nodded knowingly.

“Nice. Granuel, you cool if I take it solo? But can you still negotiate things? I’ll, uh, give you a cut.”

“Oh, of course.” He rubbed his palms together. The money for this quest would come straight from the government, and they had the deepest pockets of all.

An entire section of rainforest had been scoured from the earth, a scar larger than any city I’d seen in this life. And yet the lands below me remained a sea of green, for the goblins had claimed it for their own. They spilled well past the border of forestation that remained, and even that plantlife was very quickly beginning to wither and die. This was the largest single goblin horde I’d ever seen. Their shamans were many and powerful, and already they were preparing their spells to shoot me down from the sky. All the other goblins clamored, looking for all the world like ants from up here. The first projectile to reach for me was not a spell, but an arrow shot by one of the ugly creatures. It would’ve been easy to dodge for the distance and the actual speed of the projectile, but I didn’t even have to do that for the aim was completely off.

More arrows followed in its wake, but still I needed only to shift a bit for a small few. The number of archers they had was pathetic, and I’d reasoned that their bows just weren’t good enough for what they wanted to do, likely all stolen from the dead. The arrows they could make also paled in comparison to anything made by a proper civilization. And yet these creatures were supposed to be sapient. I’d sooner say that of the orcs, who shared their coloration but nothing else.

It rained of hellfire. I had gathered as much of the mana as I could hold at once while we probed each other, and then I let it all drop upon my countless enemies. The projectiles from the shamans also came up at the same time, but some were held back by the flame as those embers too dissipated, while the rest were summarily dodged by me. It came with the resulting crack of thunder, for I had used a mini-ritual to move faster, and then another one to heal the damage that did to my wings. The hellfire reached the ground, and the screaming goblins shrieked even louder in a wave of sound that shook the very air. Their piles of differing bodies were good kindling, and several spots on the battlefield blazed like starved beacons. I was forming another spell already, and I finished mine far faster than most of the shamans, save for those who were too slow to make it for the first volley anyway. The next rain of death that came from the sky was not of fire, but of curse. It bore one command, and one they were eager to obey. A relic from my impish past, the manifestation of a mind overtaken by menace, now adapted to work with the unlimited facets of curse itself for there was no need for cohesion. Only the opposite.

The burning goblins were hit by this wave, and instantly, more than half of them turned against their fellow green. The goblins had way too much friendly fire to start with, and now what little care they had left evaporated as claws and weapons desperately dug into whoever was in reach. Even some of their level 40s began tearing into their own allies with wild abandon. Those who could keep their wits about them, namely the shamans, were forced to fend off their fellow gob, thereby giving me even more leeway. A great gift for me, and a terrible one for them. I basked in the chaos they deserved as I pulled out my bow.

An arrow was sent forth from it… and it killed a weaker goblin who was about to die in seconds anyway.

I had missed.

I was a bit higher than normal, my physique was different, and the bow I held was stronger than any I’d held before. Made from only the best treant wood and the toughest sinews I’d been able to harvest myself. It was another one of my old weapons that Moonwash had been able to greatly improve upon since my evolution. It had a draw weight that could actually utilize my enormous strength.

And so more arrows flew down as I aimed for the shamans, who were the only ones that could properly reach me from all the way up here anyway. I began to hit my actual targets more and more as I worked through the arrows I did have with prodigious pace. I always managed to hit and the goblins died, as arrow shafts punched through their bodies and destroyed them from within. Through decimation, dessication, rot, and anything else I had mastered. The shamans retaliated with what projectiles they could, but they also had to spare so much of their magic to twist and turn and dessicate the vast swarms of their brethren around them. Eventually, with the draw of a bow that copied the perfected form newly stored in my memory core, I had enough leeway to begin casting magic again. Smaller incoherent fireballs, fogs and energy balls of curses, they all added to the sick rainbow of colors that rained death from above while the goblins could do naught to resist. And then, when my arrows finally ran out, I dove down into the fray and waded through the muck.

Bodies. Bodies around me everywhere. A sea of green turned red by the sheer amount of blood. Blood magic took hold of the liquid of death, and shoved so much of it into my mouth that I nearly drowned. It was but a trickle compared to the red already soaked into the soil. I grimaced, from a taste that was even worse than normal. Like the goblins were already rotting even as they still moved. My reserves of blood magic were still replenished, no matter how putrid. I drew my sword, and heaved a great cleave that splattered the many smaller bodies that had thought it wise to jump me. I slammed my sword down and released all the anger that had built up the entire way here. A wave of curse lashed out upon my anamotic mastery, and all who were unlucky enough to be in its path were torn apart. I screamed and my voice was somehow not drowned out.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!”

These… these were the same creatures. They were the ones Therick had used. That Edengar had used. Zazarian, the duke, the fucking queen Eden! The goblins had once distracted me at a critical moment, and for that I was captured. They were the reason I was tortured. I would make them pay a thousand times over. I would not rest until every horde had been wiped off the face of this planet. I would hunt them down forever.

My body twisted and moved through the motions as I became a dervish that decimated anyone who came even remotely close. I moved from my static position and scythed through the horde that tried to collapse in on me, but was never quite fast enough. Blood flew through the air, body parts and gore. I drank what I could, but it was hard to latch onto anything with how fast I was going. I resorted to just sucking in whatever mist of red was in front of me, and it was enough to offset my losses in blood mana. The miasma was thick in the air, but mine was somehow stronger. It was overpowered. Aura exploded out of me, and terror dripped from my eyes. Even the goblins staggered upon being gazed upon by the abyss. Even the insane could do naught but freeze upon my fury. And for that weakness they died screaming. Magic exploded out of my skin in any and all directions, for there were so many enemies clustered everywhere I looked. The smell of blood, decay, and burning flesh continuously forced itself into my nose. The world was a wash of chaos through my spatial senses. The cacophony of endless loud noises attracted even more of the goblins in the area, and so the fight lasted longer and longer. Multiple lords attacked me at once, and shamans brought down the targeted miasma of a whole civilization over my head. They sacrificed themselves to delay me just an instant longer. I was prevented from taking flight by a whole wave of the green fuckers crashing into me from everywhere at once despite the magic in the air. They broke their bodies as they latched on, lords leading the fray before being burned, peeled, and having their blood forcibly pulled out of them, or into many otherwise wrong directions. It did not take long for me to free myself, and I dashed out of there like an unstoppable train mowing down people, but it was too late. The wicked bombardment was here, and a good few managed to get a direct hit on me. My armor warped, possessing a greater weakness to this kind of thing. Some of the magic got through, and I felt my body do the same. It was desiccated. It was twisted. Blood ruptured out of me as flesh was malformed in all the wrong ways. My body lost cohesion.

The blood eater drank of my own blood. My red liquid was sacrificed for more power. Healing energy soon flooded me, shoring up my defenses and healing what damage had been dealt. My body regained cohesion, and I charged forward into the massing goblins. I outright rammed them, and those who didn’t let go were smeared against their fellows.

I’d escaped the original blast zone. I’d gotten out of the encirclement. Now it was my turn to circle. I picked off the scattered shamans. A sea of magic followed in my wake that left only death. They understood my aim somehow, and the shamans tried to flee, but just as I once failed to elude the forces of Edengar because of them, so too did they fail against my speed. And then, once the mages were dead, I turned back to the surviving lords and goblins, who had been partially hit by their side’s own myriad wicked spells. I tightened the noose, and they were not able to survive the squeeze.

“IS THAT ALL YOU’VE FUCKING GOT!? WHY DIDN’T I JUST BREAK YOU LIKE THIS BEFORE!! WHY DID I ALLOW MYSELF TO BE TAKEN AND TORTURED AND BROKEN!?? YOU ARE NOTHING!!!”

I roared another challenge. The bodies piled high into separate mounds of corpseflesh. There was way more blood than I could possibly consume now. My hooves squelched, and I achieved even less speed as the soft flesh provided me no traction. I unleashed my hellfire to burn it all, taking with it the squads of enemies that still waded through the thick muck of their once-allies.

The sun had set. I was nearly alone now. In a broken land, steeped in blood, covered in flesh, burnt in hell, cursed in too many different ways, and pockmarked with raw and physical force. My reserves of hellfire and curses were depleted, but I was otherwise good to go for ages more.

Individual goblins, or perhaps small parties, still slowly trickled in from outside, but they were only a nuisance now. A pest that should be squashed wherever I might find them. A monotony that made even my unceasing bloodlust give way to boredom. This should be enough to prove that an army was nothing in the face of me.