Now that Eri had a moment to breathe, he was able to properly analyse the strangers he was with.

  A young noble lady barely older than him, and an enormous giant of a brigand.

  The brigand was obviously of greater concern. Eri remembered his name to be Gunther, though he was not familiar with his reputation.

  Had Eri not been near one of the six stronghold capitals of the Empire, the Gold-Core Chosen would have had his infamy known far and wide.

  As it was, however, Kaldreach alone was home to thousands of Gold-Core Chosens, with many hundreds simply passing by to access the demonic front for expeditions. Eri lacked any prior knowledge of who this ‘Gunther’ was or what weakness he might have.

  A good thing, then, that he still had the System to provide him with information.

  \-\

  Gunther Stormcaller

  Lvl 86 Half-blooded Berserker

  A half-Giant, half-human warrior. One of the last bearers of Elder blood, hailing from the destroyed Gigantomachy. Born under strange stars and heretical sciences, this abandoned half-blood is a product of wild magic and madness. A creature of great power, nonetheless, he is capable of wielding both ancient Artes and pure strength to destructive effect. Leads a group of brigands (*Used to lead, until you killed them all.)

  Due to his Elder bloodline granting him superhuman regeneration, he cannot be killed by mundane means.

  \-\

  It was just unfortunate that none of it was comforting information.

  Barring a miracle, Lvl 86 was beyond Eri’s means of overcoming. Killing a dying Silver Demon while he was Coreless was one thing; this was quite another.

  Eri might be stronger now than he was in the Trial, but the opponent facing him now was neither weak, wounded, nor even bloody mortal.

  A half-Giant. Eri’s mind swirled. Even when I was a Demon King, Giants were already thought to be extinct. The Third Demon King had wiped out most of the Elderkin Races in their time.

  It would explain the size of the man, but where did a half-blooded Giant even come from?!

  Snow churned under Gunther’s massive boots as he strode ever closer, twin axes hanging loose in his enormous hands like toys meant for children. His grin was wide and wild, teeth bared with glimmering blood that reflected the pale moonlight. The wind tore at his long hair and fur-lined cloak, revealing the battered brigandine and chainmail beneath.

  His excited blue eyes never left them; his gait unhurried, almost playful. Face framed by a wild mane of wheat gold and an untamed beard, the man’s savagery was apparent to see, made worse by the inhuman smile on his face.

  “It’s been a long time since someone made me take up a weapon,” Gunther spoke first, his voice now calm from rage, instead replaced with excitement. “People always die too fast when I use my steel; Too little time to enjoy the fight. To savour blood, to drink in their screams… You understand, don’t you, little monster? We are alike in that way.”

  “You are a battle-addicted lunatic,” Eri coldly said. Discreetly, he injected a healing ampoule into his arm, praying for the effects to mend his broken wrist in time as he stalled for precious seconds. “We are nothing alike.”

  “No?” Gunther questioningly tilted his head. He scratched his beard. “Hmm, I think we are pretty similar, though, little monster. After all…”

  The half-giant pointed at him. “Why else would you hold back your true power, if not to play around with your prey a little longer?”

  Eri stiffened.

  He… knows?

  Gunther chuckled knowingly. “Like recognises like. It’s nice, finally finding someone who understands me.”

  “You’re delusional,” Eri mocked. “Is this your way of coping with the humiliation? Calling me a monster to justify losing your entire gang to a kid?”

  Gunther's grin widened. “If a kid slaughtered dozens of grown men on his own, he can’t really be called just a kid anymore, right? What else would you call something like that… except a monster?”

  … Shit, he’s right.

  He really needed to increase his charisma at some point. His ‘heroic’ speechcraft was still pitiful.

  “It’s fine. I get it.” Gunther nodded, his crazed eyes almost sympathetic. “You are so powerful, it would be boring if you used your full ability in every fight, right? That's why you hide your abilities, so that you get a true fight, right?”

  That’s correct for all the wrong reasons, Eri sourly frowned.

  Gunther’s voice grew more excited. “So, see. That’s why I only use my fists most of the time. Arts and blades make killing too easy. I see you doing the same, too! Using only those little daggers, when you have so much more hiding under your skin… But, you know…”

  Gunther’s Gold Core began pulsating harder, mana surging as his body readied itself for battle.

  “You don’t have to hide your true self from me,” he whispered, muscles twitching. “I’m not like everyone else. I’m not like those useless sheep, all weakling meat just begging to be slaughtered. No… I’m the real deal. A genuine, bona fide monster. So that’s why…”

  Gunther brought his axes to bear, forming a cross. His lips peel back to reveal a bloodcrazed smile. “There’s no need to hold back when you’re with me, little monster! Come, fight me! Strike me with everything you have! Use your Arts, your magic, whatever! I promise, I won’t disappoint you! I’m not like those worthless meatbags that follow me around! FIGHT ME! KILL ME! GIVE ME A PROPER DUEL, MONSTER TO MONSTER!”

  Eri was taken aback at his madness. Even Dulcina could not resist the urge to speak. “You’re insane.”

  Gunther jolted, his eyes slowly turning to the noblewoman. “Ah, you. Yeah, forget you’re here too, princess. Here.”

  Gunther straightened up and looked down at his chest, where a rapier was still embedded within. He gripped the handle and, in one moment, pulled the entire blade out from his heart.

  He tossed it to them. “You left this. I don’t want to play with you anymore. You can go.”

  Wait, just like that?!

  “What?” Dulcina’s voice was sharp. “What about those who command you? What about the orders and payment you spoke of earlier?”

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  “You lost all your men as well, trying to capture her,” Eri couldn’t resist saying. “You are just going to let her go?”

  “What about them? What about any of it?!” Gunther giggled. “I don’t care about those people, or my men, or even my damn money! I have everything I want right here! A proper fight, at last!”

  “I want names!” Dulcina snarled. “Who ordered this? Which organisation funded this operation? Where are the traitors hiding in my House?!”

  “Not telling~” Gunther childishly stuck his tongue out — a horrifying look upon the bloodthirsty man. “But that would be boring, won’t it? Tell you what, let’s up the stakes: That little monster wins, I’ll talk. If I win, well… I’ll just kill you both. Or maybe I’ll take you both alive and sell you to the Slaver Isles. How’s that?”

  “We would be stupid to trust you,” Eri pointed out.

  The half-blood bristled, as if insulted. When he looked at them again, the madness in his eyes momentarily gave way to solemnity.

  “I give you my word, one monster to another,” Gunther declared. “The Sky Mountains be my witness, upon my Ancient Blood, I will honour this duel and its promises. If you win, I shall reveal all I know, with no lies or sophistry coating my tongue. But if I win…”

  The feral depravity in his eyes returned. “I will take that girl, have her honour broken beyond repair, before I sell her to the same men that bought her older sister years ago.”

  Dulcina recoiled in horror. “What did you… Justinia is alive? You were the ones who took her? Where is she?! TELL ME, YOU BASTARD!”

  The noblewoman practically lunged at the man. Eri cursed and held her down as she screamed in feral hate.

  Gunther laughed, haunting and shrill. “Now you are properly motivated! What say you, little monster? Will you fight?!”

  “Calm down!” Eri hissed at the girl struggling beneath him. “I understand your feelings, but you are going to get yourself killed!”

  The young woman suddenly stilled.

  “Understand?” she whispered, the venom in her tone causing Eri to flinch. “Do you really? To just learn that a loved one you thought dead was instead captured by beasts? To know that the person you admire most had suffered for years, and that there was nothing you had done about it during all that time? Do you have the slightest understanding of what that feels like?!”

  Eri hesitated. “I understand enough that whoever she is, she doesn’t want you to die a needless death. I need you to stay calm. Please.”

  The boy couldn’t see her expression, but the girl let out a desperate snarl, then stilled.

  Gunther sighed. “Ah, that’s not good. Just when I thought I got you both riled up. Hurry up and decide. Otherwise, I’ll just butcher you both before I sell what’s left of you to the highest bidder.”

  Damned monster. He made demons look virtuous.

  How could a human like this exist? Eri struggled to understand. He’s a Chosen as well. He’s supposed to be a hero. Why would he do this to his own kind?

  Eri felt movement beneath him. He looked down and saw silver eyes peering into his.

  There was now a semblance of calm present in Dulcina’s gaze. He let her go. After a moment’s hesitation, she leaned up and whispered, “Can you win?”

  The boy looked at her incredulously. “Are— Are you serious? He’s a Gold Core! I’m just a 12-year-old with a Copper Core!”

  “You also just killed nearly everyone in this field,” Dulcina urgently countered. “I don’t know who you are, and I cannot apologise enough for dragging you into this, but I need to know that information he has. I swear, House Elathion will repay you for this a hundredfold!”

  “I don’t care about payment! I just want you to live!” Eri hissed, taking the girl aback as he pulled her off the ground. “If I lose, he’ll kill you as well! Just go now, while that idiot allows it!”

  “... What about you?” the girl quietly asked.

  “I’ll hold him off. Probably die in the process.” Eri admitted. “But if you make it, that’s good enough for me.”

  “... If that’s the case, then I’d rather die here with you.”

  Eri turned to shout at her, but the noble’s expression killed his words.

  He hadn’t noticed before, but the girl was lovely. Framed by lunar light, with her silver-blonde hair reflecting the same paleness as the snow and the moon, the haunting grief in her eyes was magnified tenfold, until it commanded Eri’s gaze with unshakable intensity.

  “Anything you want, everything I have, I’ll give it to you,” she whispered, her tone almost begging. “These traitors… They are killing my family. They… They have already taken my mother. My sister. This information could save the ones I love. I don’t want to lose anyone anymore. Please.”

  For some reason, at that moment…

  He was reminded of Saint Ariane’s final smile, right before the Heroine had ended his past life as a Demon King.

  “At long last… I have reached you.”

  Why was he remembering this now?

  … If someone like her were in his place, facing impossible odds in the face of injustice, what would she do?

  What would a true hero do?

  … Not give up, apparently.

  Eri exhaled. “One condition.”

  “Name it,” Dulcina said immediately.

  “Whatever happens during the fight… The way that I fight… You will never tell anyone.” He glared at her. “Ever.”

  Dulcina nodded, her pale eyes so sincere and grateful that Eri was taken aback. “I swear. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” he grunted, standing unsteadily. His ribs still hurt, but they were no longer broken. His wrist was fixed as well. “I might still lose. But I’ll do my best to kill him.”

  “I… I need him alive to tell me who the traitors are.”

  Fuuuuuu— “You ask for a lot, you know.”

  On top of everything, he had to make sure he didn’t accidentally kill the brigand captain as well?

  Dulcina bowed her head, ashamed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be,” Eri tiredly replied. “You’re doing this for your family, right? Then you have nothing to be sorry about.”

  If it were his family at stake… If Elen’s life was in danger…

  He would do anything to save her, even if he had to beg.

  Gunther noticed their little conversation was over. The half-blood smiled. “Have you found your resolve, little monster?”

  “I have,” Eri called out. “Congratulations. You will get your fight.”

  The boy checked his Core. It was out of mana.

  That was fine. It would not matter.

  “But… I think…” Eri sucked in a breath. “You will come to sorely regret that.”

  [Bloodflame Demonic Arts, Second Form: Sanguine Immolation]

  Power rolled from somewhere deep within, older and crueller than his oath to a distant Goddess, bound by Core or Tithe. A deep thrum answered from within his chest, and the snow beneath him shuddered. Heat surged through his veins — violent, searing, hateful — until his very heartbeat became a drum that roared for the damnation of all life.

  Erizen, Fourth Demon King, exhaled.

  And Hell breathed out with him.

  “Boil, my Blood.”

  Then, with a sound like flesh tearing, he erupted.

  The expanse of frost-white, carrying the touch of snow and silence, was instantly destroyed as the grounds became engulfed in blood-drenched flames. A detonation of dark, sanguine-coloured fire consumed the field, the inferno swallowing the corpses in the snow and turning them into shades of crimson and shadow.

  Dark flames clung to the boy like a loving parasite, licking along his arms and shoulders, writhing in shapes that hinted at curling limbs and horns. Steam hissed from the ground where molten flesh droplets fell, the air bending with the heat.

  There was a sound behind him — a mix of awe, horror, and disbelief. Erizen did not dare turn to face the noblewoman’s expression.

  Instead, his eyes were forward, solely placed on the half-blood, whose ecstatic grin had transformed into a truly wide and grotesque thing.

  “I knew it. I knew it!” Gunther howled with undisguised jubilation. “You… You are a monster! A true monster, like me! Thank you! Thank you!”

  Erizen glared at him, purple eyes the colour of Hell. “Not a monster. Not for you. To you, I’m something far worse.”

  Gunther brought his axes to bear, wide-eyed with frenzied joy. “And what would that be?”

  The ex-Demon King slashed across his own wrist, dragging a sharp fingertip across his forearm. Blood welled up, boiling thick and dark. Before it could spill to the snow, it caught fire, igniting in a hiss of crimson flame.

  The bubbling liquid writhed in the air, pulled from the opened vein by his will. Twisting and condensing, it hardened into the shape of his chosen weapon.

  Sanguine fires shimmering along its edge, the bloody pair of searing crimson daggers hissed in his hands.

  Erizen pointed his bloodflame dagger at the brigand and announced, “I am a proper Hero.”