Chapter 405

Chapter 405
## Chapter 405

### Miyamoto Ken (2)

A flurry of events unfolded within a mere heartbeat.

The ceremonial hall was entirely Sodian’s realm, her personal laboratory, and an area fully subservient to her power.

Every concealed mechanism, every snare, every enchantment… each piece was saturated with her intent.

Consequently, through her link to her primary form, she was able to respond instantaneously to any unanticipated danger.

*Crackle—*

Thick masses of roots burst forth from the stone floor, weaving a defensive wall that caged the entire subterranean vault and bending the very coordinates of the air.

Heavy links of iron whipped forward, pinning the interloper down, while a virulent malediction washed over the area.

Shimmering panes of defensive magic snapped into existence, barricading the path of the brute, as a multi-layered arcane circle—its rings spinning like the internal gears of a clock—sprang to life, discharging a relentless fusillade of corrupt sorcery.

*Kaboom!*

An impeccable counter-strategy, a flawless protective reaction against a sudden raid.

It was an exhibition of raw capability fitting for a premium fiend, a scholar of the supernatural who had traveled the Path of Sorcery for millennia, her proficiency eclipsing that of conventional transcendent spellcasters by a wide margin.

“Khahaha!”

“Grrr!”

Yet, to Sodian’s misfortune,

…her adversary was anything but… conventional.

*Crunch—! Rip!*

The malicious hex was swallowed whole.

The glowing partitions impeding his forward march were shredded by jagged teeth, and the binding iron links, groaning under his titanic physical power, began to fracture and snap apart.

The bolts of corrupt magic, dripping with vile force, did little more than graze his thick, unnatural skin.

“Ugh! Ken, how could you…!”

A beast, in the absolute literal interpretation of the phrase.

He paid no heed to the obstructions placed before him.

He simply barreled ahead, his eyes locked onto his prey, Sodian.

“Purge! This domain belongs to me! Do you truly believe you can best me here?!”

“Khahaha!”

“Grrr—!”

Sodian struck back, her fury and irritation sharpening her execution… but her efforts were ultimately futile.

She was clinging on by a thread, her protective measures bolstered by the surrounding architecture… yet when faced with his unstoppable momentum, her blockades were giving way.

‘…His strength is… immense. I was aware Davidson possessed great power, but I never anticipated he would be this feral.’

Ken, observing the clash from a secure vantage point, closed his eyelids, a peculiar… thrill… stirring within his chest.

Davidson, tearing through the room like an unleashed predator, his three maws snapping and tearing, the entirety of the ceremonial hall being reduced to rubble by his sheer weight…

It brought to mind the hound he used to own back on Earth, an animal of boundless vitality with a knack for… dismantling the living room whenever it felt understimulated.

‘…There is no reason for me to step in. I will leave the fighting to him and concentrate on my own assignment.’

He exhaled deeply, settling his internal rhythm, and turned his back on the skirmish.

He had intended to enter the fray if the situation grew dire… but it appeared Davidson was more than capable of concluding the matter by himself.

“…Is this the spot?”

The magical arrays, degraded by Davidson’s destructive behavior, posed no real challenge to navigate.

Furthermore… he merely needed to trail the peculiar… tugging sensation, the identical resonance that had guided his steps to this location previously.

He cast a brief look toward the colossal Balrog, the Fighting Demon Duke Karakul, who remained pinned and immobilized, before maintaining his pace, his focus directed at the entryway situated behind the column.

He would attend to the Duke at a later time.

His immediate objective was the chamber lying beyond that threshold.

*Thump, thump—*

His pulse quickened within his ribs as he neared the portal, his exhilaration mounting alongside a wave of excitement… and a small shred of… trepidation.

*Crackle!*

He extended his fingers toward the handle, his palm sparking with unholy malice, overriding the protective wards, and shoved the heavy panel open.

And then the sight met his eyes.

An immense expanse, far grander than his calculations had suggested, a massive gallery characterized by flawless, pale walls and columns.

Monuments, detailed stonework, and a majestic tapestry painted across the elevated roof…

And bizarre inscriptions, an unfamiliar dialect rendered in shimmering gold, decorated the partitions and pillars.

Judging by the solemn aura, they most likely represented some form of… holy texts.

He knit his brows, scrutinizing the glyphs, then dismissed the thought with a turn of his head.

‘…A sanctuary? In a place like this? And it bears no resemblance to a temple raised for the Demon God… What exactly is the Dragon Marquis plotting?’

He stepped across the threshold, his strides directing him toward a particular quarter, his routing so automatic and unprompted that he remained oblivious to it until he had traveled halfway across the floor.

Yet he did not pause. He kept advancing, his eyes scanning the perimeter of the sanctuary’s great gallery.

He had intended to investigate the entire structure regardless. The exact starting point was irrelevant.

He arrived at a section occupied by… cots?

“Could this be… the place where they keep the offerings?”

No, that was incorrect. They were not sleeping quarters, but rather… elevated stone slabs.

Though, the distinction mattered very little, given that human forms were resting upon them.

‘…I anticipated as much.’

The captives represented a wide array of heritages, ages, and identities.

The solitary attribute they possessed in common was that every single one was fully grown, and every single one was… wasted away, their figures motionless and devoid of vitality, resembling… corpses.

‘…It is honestly remarkable that a handful of them still draw breath.’

A few were still inhaling faintly, kept suspended by some variety of… preservation enchantment… though the vast majority were visibly past the point of redemption, their flesh shriveled and ruined.

A number of the slabs held nothing more than… skeletal remains.

‘…This is no infirmary, it is a… morgue.’

And then, his eyes caught a specific form.

Ken, the transplant from Japan, the high-ranking fiend holding the rank of an Earl…

…finally comprehended the nature of the force that had been beckoning him to this spot.

He cast his gaze downward, his pupils dilating from sheer astonishment and skepticism.

“What? What is the meaning of this…?”

It was one of the numerous stone slabs, arranged neatly in uniform columns.

And resting upon it, entirely still, his physical form skeletal, his respirations shallow and faint…

“…How can this be…?”

…was a man whose features he knew perfectly.

A countenance that… matched the one he had possessed during his days as a mortal.

—

“Back so soon? You were free to remain for a longer duration.”

Heinz the Second, perched behind his desk, his features set in a chilly, unreadable mask, tilted his head slightly to one side.

His eyes were locked onto a adolescent male resting on the couch opposite him, who had his arms folded behind his neck while staring up at the plaster, looking entirely… disengaged.

Nevertheless, he could not simply disregard his current liege.

He gave a soft breath of resignation and straightened his posture, resting his palms flat against his thighs as he offered a courteous reply.

“Our window is narrow, Your Highness. There are numerous matters requiring our attention, and the choice for the presidency is rapidly approaching. Your mother must be overwhelmed with duties at present.”

“Hmm, is that the sole reason?”

Temiran McCleary, his mouth twisting into a subtle pout, pressed the issue.

He shifted his eyes away and muttered under his breath,

“…It feels somewhat… uncomfortable. I have reached manhood now, and it is unreasonable to simply… remain by my mother’s side indefinitely. Yet she persists in treating me as though I were a youngster…”

Consequently, he had journeyed back to this location, utilizing professional responsibilities as a convenient justification.

Heinz offered a quiet, amused breath.

Who could possibly observe this boy and conclude he was a ‘man’?

He carried the exact demeanor of… an adolescent navigating the trials of youth.

‘…Then again, considering he was confined and subjected to mental conditioning until quite recently, his behavior is entirely logical.’

Individuals did not gain emotional maturity solely through the passage of years.

The true metrics were personal background, socialization, and the process of absorbing knowledge and adapting.

In the same manner that a youth reared in the digital era possessed far more… practical awareness than an elderly person who had spent a lifetime in an isolated settlement, Temiran was only now… embarking on a conventional existence.

‘…I have provided sufficient guidance for him. He is no longer a dependent child.’

He was a former instrument of divinity, a seasoned operator within the hidden world, and currently, a formidable bloodsucker belonging to Heterosis.

The solitary individual who would look at him as a child was his own mother, Kayla McCleary.

“In that case, let us pivot to our objectives. Provide me with additional details concerning the Demon World.”

“Ah… that matter?”

“Precisely. I received the basic summary, but it is highly probable that specific nuances eluded me.”

Temiran stood upright, his countenance shifting to one of gravity, as he gave a slight nod and spoke.

“As I indicated previously, my role was confined strictly to the… post-battle operations. The vast majority of the events had concluded by the hour of my… arrival. Thus, my familiarity with the specifics is quite sparse.”

The Pioneer of Revolt had perished before he could adequately… transfer his responsibilities, and Temiran had been deployed ahead of schedule, an unpolished instrument.

Naturally, his database was flawed…

…yet he was not entirely devoid of data.

He required at least some understanding to fulfill his objectives.

“They abducted individuals from alternate realities and funneled them into the Demon World…?”

A primary component of those… schemes involved the covert abduction of awakened individuals from Earth, an enterprise conducted stealthily until a few years back.

“To what end?”

“To deploy them as… agents of reaction, naturally. I only possess second-hand accounts, but evidently, it becomes significantly less complicated to circumvent the restrictions of reality by exploiting the distinct attributes of an extra-dimensional traveler. The applications are limitless.”

This practice had been active from the period shortly following the arrival of Earthlings in Auterica, persisting until just a few winters past.

It had operated as a deeply clandestine program, meaning it had not manifested as a widespread crisis… but given the timeframe involved, the tally of casualties must be substantial.

‘…A great number of people from Earth must have been… immolated.’

And that reality was likely one of the primary catalysts for why the realm of Auterica had remained undetected for such an extended period.

It was a freshly minted realm, meaning the population of Earthlings within its borders was minor to begin with… and those who did cross over were swiftly seized and… neutralized.

‘…It is highly probable that I… alongside Hans… might have met an identical end had our coordinates of arrival been altered.’

When all was said and done, they were natives of Earth, and they held unique relics native to their birthplace. They would have drawn immediate scrutiny.

His thoughts drifted to Ken, the fiend he had crossed paths with not long ago.

He had indisputably been numbered among those captives.

If that was the case, what explained his transformation into a fiend, a permanent resident?

“What? Metamorphosis into a fiend? What exactly are you suggesting?”

His inquiry was countered by a look of confusion.

“Furthermore… completely strip away their inherent characteristics…? Wouldn’t such an action dramatically lower their utility as offerings? I have never encountered a methodology capable of entirely harvesting an extra-dimensional traveler’s traits. Even the Pioneer of Revolt lacked that capability.”

Therefore, while it was accurate that Ken had been processed into the Demon World… the remaining details did not… align.

‘…Hmm, what is the underlying reality here? Did he feed me falsehoods?’

It was a distinct possibility.

After all, the bond they shared was… superficial at best. They were merely two individuals from the same home world who chanced to cross paths.

He had employed his unique talent of 「Analysis」 to vet the statements, but the disparity between their respective tiers had been vast, rendering the diagnosis less than definitive.

‘…No, I authenticated the details at a later point through Hella. And there existed no logical incentive for him to deceive me, particularly after acknowledging our shared origin as Earthlings… ’

Heinz creased his forehead, his mental processes twisting into an intricate knot, before clearing his thoughts with a shake of his head.

He was guilty of over-analysis.

He needed to… reduce the problem to its core elements.

In the style of…

…Harley, who invariably prioritized physical action over intellectual deliberation.

‘…The environment of the Demon World proved to be far more entertaining than I predicted.’

Harley, who was currently relishing his monstrous existence under the identity of Davidson, was… experiencing the pinnacle of his life.

He had always operated on whim, but following the systematic replacement of his entire anatomy—including his neural pathways—with fiendish attributes, his… unconventional tendencies had grown far more pronounced.

‘…The confrontation has drawn to a close, meaning it is time for me to transition.’

He had detected nothing out of the ordinary during their period of cooperation, but a closer inspection might yield fresh insights.

And should that strategy fail, alternative avenues remained open.

‘…A noble-tier fiend possesses the capacity to regrow an severed digit, correct?’

A grim, terrifying curve manifested on Heinz’s facial features.

Temiran, registering the drop in the surrounding temperature, carefully increased the distance between them.

Perhaps the wisest course of action was to simply… remain within the residence and unwind.

—

A massive specimen of timber, its main column severed cleanly, rested upon the earth.

Davidson, perched atop the prone timber while his three distinct countenances crunched down on its outer growth, shifted his attention.

“Grrr!”

“Khaha!”

He extended his massive frame, his transitions executing with a fluidness that belied his immense proportions, and then advanced toward the entryway Ken had crossed through a moment prior.

He left behind the ruined remains of the ceremonial hall and the shattered fragments of Gui Mok, the previous vessel utilized by Sodian, the Marquis-ranked fiend.

However, he refrained from entering the chamber immediately.

He brought his advance to a halt in front of the threshold,

…his focus zeroing in on the immense, shackled form of Karakul, the Fighting Demon Duke.

His three pairs of eyes locked onto the fading form of the fiend, his stare entirely barren of reverence or remorse.

*Gulp—*

Only a deep, primal craving remained.

Copious fluid leaked from the corners of his three sets of jaws.

He had been restricted to… consuming plant matter a short while ago, and his appetite was ravenous.

And now, an extraordinary delicacy, an unparalleled gastronomic event, was positioned directly in front of him. How could he possibly pass it by?

To do so would be an absolute betrayal of his trait, 「Gourmand」!

‘…Correct, time is of the essence, so I shall limit myself to… a solitary mouthful.’

Or rather, a solitary mouthful per countenance.

The distinction was trivial.

His three distinct heads expanded drastically in volume, their jaw joints snapping out of alignment.

In stark contrast to his earlier conduct, where he had regulated his mass to optimize his martial effectiveness,

…he now funneled the entirety of his shape-shifting stamina into achieving the maximum possible dimensions.

*Crunch! Crack! Munch—*

And to eliminate any ambiguity,

…Harley was not the sort of individual to leave behind scraps.