I'm fighting Kal'tsit? Really?

Gerald was unrestrained, and it didn't matter to him whether the other party was a demon lord of Sarkaz or not. If someone were to teach him a lesson, it would make him happier. Theresa herself had almost never met anyone, apart from the Lord of the Royal Court and her brother, who had actively contradicted her ideas.

Everything is quite fresh.

Therefore, Ramalyn's initial mindset of simply taking a stroll turned into considering the two men's proposal—at least she couldn't be excluded from the role of an outsider.

But Gerald on the other side frowned.

During their conversation, he didn't detect any anxiety from Theresa about the situation. On the contrary, she seemed to want the banshees to slow down and recuperate.

The only thing that could come to his mind was the description of the Sarkaz in the book.

Internal strife.

The Sarkaz were notorious for their internal chaos. After the fall of Kazdel, some Sarkaz migrated to Gaul and Letania, eventually settling in Colombia. A portion of the mercenaries were sent to Ursus and the Eastern Kingdoms, rejoining the new war.

Kazdel, the home of the Sarkaz, is already lacking in resources. Considering the existence of other royal courts, it is not surprising that a situation similar to warlord separatism and resource struggle would occur... This explains why Theresa was willing to let the banshees leave Kazdel and come to the valley.

After all, if there were one more pair of chopsticks, the Demon King would have to think twice about how to divide the food.

Now the logic makes sense.

"In any case, I'm willing to believe your opinion."

As he pondered, Theresa abandoned her earlier attempt to persuade Gerald. However, she didn't appear particularly frustrated, and calmly stated:

"Sometimes I feel trapped, and my thinking is often limited. For a demon king, the greatest help is to have rational dissenting voices from time to time."

"In that case, I have a suggestion."

she continued.

“I spoke with Ramalen about the growing decline of the Banshees in Kazdel… Many people are baffled by the departure of the Banshee Royal Court. But clearly, the Banshee Queen must remain in the valley to prevent any unforeseen events from befalling the already unstable race.”

“But I think that all the royal courts that have seen you fight on the battlefield should not refuse to let a hero who has a close relationship with the Banshee Queen appear in Kazdel on behalf of the Banshee.”

Theresa, somewhat guiltily avoiding Ramalen's death stare, coughed lightly and said, "Therefore, since Ramalen has no intention of going to Kazdel with me... could you temporarily take the place of the Banshee Queen and be invited to our city?"

"Naturally, in exchange, I will try my best to meet your requirements."

That's what they said, but all three people present knew that Gerald's so-called request was actually only one thing.

Upon hearing this, Gerald, the protagonist of the story, seemed to have his cerebral cortex smoothed out and stretched instantly, experiencing a moment of relaxation, as if he were strolling through the Norwegian Wood.

All the sweet words he had spoken that morning were now forgotten; only instinct drove him to accept the reply.

Wow, I get to fight the Demon King of Sarkaz!

It's cool to think about.

So, before the siren queen beside him could truly unleash her anger, he subconsciously said the following:

"Alright, let's have a match."

Chapter Seventy-Eight: Battles, Part One

"Pfft."

Seeing Gerald so impatient that he placed his hand directly on the sword at his waist, Theresa couldn't help but laugh.

The smile on her face appeared especially gentle in the glow of the morning light over the valley, forming a stark contrast with the expression of the siren queen hidden behind her veil.

Lamarle is now clearly very angry.

This anger wasn't just directed at the Pegasus who had agreed to the conditions without hesitation, but more surprisingly, it mostly fell on the outspoken prince.

"Please consider this: if the Demon Lord of Sarkaz were to engage in battle and carnage in the valley, how would your guards and brother view this matter?"

However, the angrier she got, the calmer her tone became, quite unlike her usual self: "Besides, I think I've made my intentions very clear: he shouldn't get involved in Sarkaz matters."

“I see, I understand.” Theresa smiled and nodded to Lamaren, then looked at Gerald. “It seems I’ve made another mistake. However, if you just want to fight me, you don’t need to make any demands.”

"The Demon Lord of Sarkaz has not yet reached the point where he would choose not to accept challenges from others."

A very clever tactic of retreating to advance.

Gerald gradually calmed down and began to re-examine the demon king before him.

In fact, the request made by Theresa was entirely beneficial to both him and the banshee.

As she said, the sensitivity surrounding his identity seemed insignificant compared to what he had done. Once his strong connection with the Queen of the Demons was revealed to the royal court, coupled with some tests of strength, most of the royal court would likely acknowledge his existence.

A hero who once helped them in the war, an outsider who was destined not to receive the support of the Sarkaz, and a powerful figure associated with the Banshee, a tribe that had been severely weakened.

These descriptions combined are like accidentally leaving a powerful character in your account due to a bug in a game—a complete windfall. The only worry is that this bug might be fixed and disappear someday.

As for Gerald, he didn't care about these things. It was simply a matter of each getting what they needed, and naturally, the more tests the better.

But for Theresa... she now seems to have ulterior motives.

Should she bring this outsider along to show her stance and create an opening for her future actions? Or should she use him as bait to lure out the unstable elements in Kazdel? Should she test his relationship with Ramalen to gauge the Banshee Queen's intentions?

Perhaps it is all of them.

"Then let's just leave it at that, shall we?"

With a thought, Gerald removed his right hand from the sword at his waist, letting the wind fill his hand and mold it into an invisible sword that landed in his palm.

“Hmm,” Theresa nodded gently, smiling as she said to the Banshee Queen beside her, “The battle may affect the surrounding area, so we’ll need to trouble you and me to cover up the traces, Ramalen.”

"...Please be sure not to go too far."

Lamarian coldly uttered those words.

Before she finished speaking, the fluctuations of the incantation appeared around her, like layers of overlapping mist, instantly separating her figure from the space.

Countless intricate runes intertwined in the air, forming a barrier that hovered silently a few hundred meters away from the two. The Banshee Queen had clearly given up on interfering with what was about to happen, leaving it to them to resolve on their own.

Theresa watched silently as Ramalen's figure disappeared into the void, then refocused her gaze on Gerald: "Are you ready?"

“It always has been,” Gerald said calmly. “Come, Demon Lord of Sarkaz, I’m here to learn your skills.”

The air grew thin, and everything around seemed to slowly freeze under this quiet yet deadly oppressive atmosphere.

Gerald always strikes first.

The invisible blade in his hand shot forward, pushing the speed to its limit from the very beginning—since the exchange was only a few moves, he had to offer up all his skills without reservation from the start to show his respect for the demon king whose strength far surpassed his own.

The air was suddenly sliced ​​apart, and the sharp blades of wind broke free of their restraints in an instant, striking Theresa with invisible sharpness.

Pegasus's sword never faltered; his wind didn't dissipate in the air, but rather followed his movements like a shadow, leaving shattered wind streaks with each swing. Those unseen flows began to become traceable, swirling around him like another body, illusory yet undeniably real.

Theresa's steps remained light as she dodged, and even though her fighting spirit was obvious, her aura was still like a gentle breeze.

The slash was blocked by an invisible object and dissolved. With a slight flick of her finger, the previously tranquil air suddenly trembled, and the dust particles that should not have been noticed seemed to be given life, slowly gathering, swirling, and finally rising between her fingers.

"Dust".

It is subtle yet pervasive, trivial yet incredibly deadly.

With just a gentle flick, the dust particles sliced ​​through the air like threads, silently slipping into the air around Gerald, lurking with every breath and every muscle movement, waiting for the next tightening.

Gerald keenly sensed the danger; he could feel those substances, finer than a hair, surrounding him and gradually forming an inescapable cage.

There was no room for carelessness; the storm instantly gathered around him, and his body followed the direction of the wind into the air, attempting to isolate himself from these terrifying particles.

A raging wind swept through the area, indiscriminately ravaging everything in its path, attempting to completely dispel the encroaching dust. The powerful airflow, like sharp blades, ripped through the air, seemingly creating an absolute barrier.

So the Demon King gently tapped the air with his hand.

The ten rings on her fingers remained silent even as the light was slicing into tiny fragments. Only the dust particles beside her, used for attack, kept moving, overcoming the storm's obstacles to reach Pegasus.

The skill of a tailor lies in precision, in cutting, and in having every minute detail under control.

As the tailor of the previous Demon Lord, Kazdel's sharpest pair of scissors, Theresa has not forgotten her past. Even with the power of the Demon Lord, she still uses her old habits.

Her dust can be the gentlest caress, or the deadliest noose.

If everything made of dust is woven into a single thread, the body will become as fragile as a sheet of paper and break in two.

The almost invisible dust particles had now intertwined into a binding force, like an invisible veil, gently yet inescapably wrapping around Pegasus's right foot, pulling him downwards. The remaining dust particles would also settle on his arms, gradually binding his limbs.

Thus, the deadly trap has been set.

Phew.

A barely audible soft sound came from Gerald's lower body.

"……Eh?"

Theresa stared in disbelief at the scene of the Pegasus falling through the air and then taking off again in the next moment.

Her dazed state was not without reason.

To escape the constraints imposed by the dust, Gerald almost instantly severed his right leg with his sword.

Before the severed leg could even bleed, a gust of wind bleed it away, protecting it. Gerald's movements were no longer affected by the dust; he used the wind to trap the blood at the cut, preventing fainting from blood loss. Adrenaline surged through his body, urging him to accelerate through the air.

Unconventional situations naturally require unconventional solutions. In the valley, such a broken leg is merely a minor injury. Once it's over, the banshee's spell will naturally reattach his severed leg.

The problem now is how to deal with Theresa's dust.

Gerald accelerated through the air, leaving the dust behind him as he pondered.

The other party was holding back quite a bit, but he didn't really care. Based on his experience of gradually becoming familiar with Ramalen, the Demon King would reveal more and more of her strength to him over time. But even now, he wasn't sure he could truly touch her like he had with Ramalen that time.

His fighting style when facing strong opponents seemed to have become a fixed pattern. He almost always needed to rely on a quick battle to find a glimmer of hope. But this type of situation was the first time he had seen it. Theresa's skills were able to ignore his wind, and his wind was blocked by the dust.

It's yet another attack method targeting the soul and concepts, and he currently has no way to counter it.

It cannot be defended against, it cannot be attacked, and it cannot be escaped.

Then the only option is a full-scale offensive, gambling on a slim chance.

Then, in the next second, the storm suddenly expanded.

Gerald's figure blurred for a moment. His sword intent reached its limit at this moment. Even the fine dust in the air was swept and swirled by the violent wind. The dust behind him seemed to have a sense of self and hurriedly stopped behind him, rushing back to the Demon King's side.

Theresa's previously dazed gaze darkened slightly.

Her premonition was triggered at that moment.

It's not just the Pegasus right in front of us.

The wind was no longer just wind; it was transforming into something more flexible and unpredictable. In that empty air, a threat suddenly seemed to appear, flashing a red warning light in the Demon King's mind.

The fighting spirit constantly reminded her to dodge a... void?

In an instant, sharp blades suddenly attacked from three directions.

Dust swirls, battle intent clashes.

Theresa's gaze sharpened, and with a slight movement of her fingers, the dust scattered in the wind instantly condensed into threads, forming incomparably sharp barriers that met the blades coming from three directions without hesitation.

The side blades seemed to have truly inherited Pegasus's skills, attempting to deviate from their downward angle with a feint at the moment the dust obstructed them, but unfortunately, they were still a little too slow and were instantly entangled and annihilated. The downward blades, on the other hand, encountered no obstacles along their path, but were shredded by the surrounding ambushes just as they were about to strike Theresa's head.

Meanwhile, the attacks from Pegasus were blocked by the dust particles that caught up from behind.

A soft hissing sound filled the air, like the sound of a tiny flame burning paper. Those sharp edges that should have been invisible were precisely captured by the dust particles and shredded the moment they made contact.

However, simply blocking the attack was not enough to put her at ease.

Out of the Demon King's peripheral vision, the several sword shadows that were attacking her swayed slightly in the storm. The next moment, the outline of the sword shadow directly in front of her faded and disappeared in the interplay of light and shadow, but the Pegasus's movements did not slow down at all. It was not hindered by the dust and continued to rush towards her.

She instinctively realized something—that wasn't Pegasus's true form.

Gerald's true form remained hidden in the void, overlapping with the wind blades as they approached her. She finally reached the Demon King through visual deception, bypassing the obstruction of the dust in her hand.

This time, however, Pegasus's sword truly fell upon her.

In the blink of an eye, the Demon King simply raised her hand, and the dust instantly condensed into a shape, gathering like coiled threads, transforming into a slender and sharp sword in her hand.

boom--!

The dull thud of impact burst forth from the storm, echoing throughout the entire space.

The invisible sword tip hovered in mid-air, the swirling currents on its blade seemingly still roaring, while the Demon King's sword steadily blocked this final attack.

When the wind stops, people stop, and even the will to fight stops.

Pegasus's sword strike ultimately halted at the last moment, but the sword blade formed from dust was a step faster than his withdrawal, landing precisely where his sword blade would meet. The almost invisible dust collided with the invisible wind, intercepting the final step that was about to completely pierce her defense.

The Demon Queen stood still, her expression unwavering. Only the dust at her fingertips trembled slightly and slowly dispersed, as if responding to the sword intent of the person before her.

"Are you good at swordsmanship?"

Gerald could only put one foot on the ground, but the wind lifted his body well, somewhat concealing his disheveled appearance.