novelraw Chapter 250: Abyssal Holy War – Finale (2)
Chapter 250: Abyssal Holy War – Finale (2)
Chapter 250. Abyssal Holy War – Finale (2)
“Waaaaaaaaah!”
“Charge!”
The sudden arrival of reinforcements from the Dwarves and the Revolutionary Army blocked the Drones' offensive.
Although they had been overwhelming the Allied Forces, their losses were not small.
Countless Drones had been destroyed during the long battle, and now the number of Drones connected to his mind was less than half of the initial force.
In that situation, when enemy reinforcements they never expected appeared fresh and ready, the collapsing Allied Forces bought time to reorganize their stance.
“This can’t, be.”
Paimon groaned with a dumbfounded face.
He couldn't understand.The Allied Forces had already dispatched all their so-called elite troops.
At least, until the last moment the succubi had checked, there was no sign of the Revolutionary Army requesting additional reinforcements.
Without even being requested, with the gate open, they sent additional reinforcements from the Francia Homeland without even leaving behind Homeland Defense Forces?
And adding the Dwarves on top of that?
The number of Drones connected to him decreased at a rapid rate.
Paimon staggered back, overcome by a sense of futility.
And feeling the mana twist, he blankly raised his gaze and looked at the sky.
More precisely, at the Huge Blue Mana Sphere that looked like it would cover him from above.
“Like this, so futilely.”
The liberation he had awaited for 400 years, the ambition that led him to rebel against Baal.
Not because of Baal, not because of Pierre de Lafayette, but because of inferior races he thought he didn't need to understand, it all fizzles out like this?
“Isn’t it futile? I just went through it myself, and I know it's gonna feel awful.”
Paimon lowered his gaze at the sarcastic voice.
Despite not having the strength to even hold a sword properly, Pierre de Lafayette was looking at him and smiling.
Flames rose in Paimon’s chest.
Arrogance. Jealousy. Rage. Lust. Greed. Gluttony. Craving. Sloth.
With those sticky, black sins.
A mess of jumbled emotions, be it love-hate, possessiveness, or something he couldn't even name.
“Pierre-!”
Paimon charged at him.
If he was going to fail anyway, he would possess him forever.
“Keuk?!”
However, before he could achieve his goal, Paimon clutched his chest and collapsed on the spot.
“Cough, keuk...!”
Mana rapidly drained from his body.
“What, is this.”
The effect of the enemy's Grand Magic?
Already?
No, that's not it.
This is.
“Keuk?!”
“Ugh?!”
Only when the storm of mana began to swirl and those who were confronting Baal were swept back by the gust did Paimon realize what had happened.
The mana being transferred from Pandemonium.
The mana extracted from the Reserve Drones slumbering in dreams, which was supposed to be transferred through his horn to each Drone, had been cut off.
No, it was intercepted.
Paimon’s eyes grew bloodshot as he saw the Mana Script glowing on Baal’s horn.
That, damn bastard!
He should have realized sooner.
Paimon had the initiative, but that man also had control over the Drones.
In other words, that man could also receive the mana transferred from Pandemonium.
When it came to mana control, that man was several levels above him; if he wanted to intercept it, he could do so at any time.
Even in that moment, Paimon felt countless Drones sucking away his mana in an instant and spewed out his resentment.
“Damn it! What are you doing, Baal! Do you intend to lose all the Drones here!”
Once those Drones sucked all of Paimon's mana dry, they would lose the power to sustain themselves and just crumble into dust!
But Baal replied arrogantly.
“Aren't there Reserve Drones in Pandemonium? It's meaningless if we all die here.”
As the fatal wound on his back healed rapidly with overflowing mana, Baal raised both his hands to the sky—
And held up the Huge Blue Mana Sphere that was falling toward the ground.
“Uwoooooooh......!”
Even Baal, using the immense mana transferred through Pandemonium, struggled as his feet dug into the earth, but the Blue Calamity stopped its descent before his overwhelming power.
“Wh-what!”
“Insane!”
Paimon had no leeway to leisurely enjoy the enemies' astonishment.
“Keuk!”
He coughed up blue blood.
With all the mana in his body being sucked out, his internal organs and everything else were becoming a mess.
He was dying.
By none other than his own inventions.
How long was that muscle-brained idiot Baal planning to withstand the Grand Magic? Was he going to keep sucking Pandemonium's mana dry while holding it back and turn the Drones and him to dust?
Should he just cut the connection here and abandon all the Drones?
So futilely like this?
But that would mean Paimon's defeat.
Even if he survived here, if he, who had rebelled against Baal, were to give up the Drones, he would only be purged later.
Paimon gnashed his teeth and sent a command to Pandemonium.
He could not die like this.
Even if it meant ruining all the Reserve Drones left in the homeland by extracting mana beyond their limits, he had to survive first.
That muscle-brained idiot would block the Grand Magic, so he had to protect his life and the Drones.
Not long after Paimon's command was sent, additionally squeezed-out mana from Pandemonium began to be transferred to his horn.
As if the harsh extraction had shattered even the illusion of a happy dream.
The sensation of mana, distorted and steeped in despair and pain, filled Paimon with ecstasy and was distributed to the Drones once more.
“Haaaah, I think I'll live.”
Paimon barely managed to catch his breath and raised his head.
Because of the storm of mana raging from the clash between Baal, who had gathered the Magic Tower Master's Grand Magic and the mana from Pandemonium, the inferior races with little mana couldn't even dare to approach.
For now, Baal would somehow manage to neutralize the Grand Magic.
That damn bastard would be exhausted after nullifying such a massive spell, so should he deal with him here?
Damn it, how long could Pandemonium’s Reserve Drones withstand this kind of mana extraction?
The next move for victory is—
Paimon's brilliant brain was spinning rapidly when—
It came to a sudden halt.
“Keuk?”
The mana transfer had stopped.
“Uh, uwoooooooh!?”
As the storm of mana that had been raging around his body stopped, startling even Baal, Paimon blankly harbored a question.
Why?
Did all the Reserve Drones in Pandemonium die at once?
No matter how harshly he extracted it, it was only for a moment.
Most of the remaining Reserve Drones in Pandemonium now are from the Demon Race, so how could they, who aren't an inferior race, not withstand it for even a moment?
What in the world happened?
Paimon urgently sent a command.
But what came back was a refusal.
Not silence, not anything else, but a refusal.
Who on earth could refuse his authority, he who had been involved since the Drone development stage?
Tuduk- Blue blood dripped from Paimon's mouth.
......There is someone.
Just like Paimon's management authority, which could ignore the later-inserted management authority.
The demon who participated in the design of the process where Reserve Drones, sleeping in dreams, had their energy extracted while seeing happy illusions.
“Gre, mory...... Keuk!”
Paimon spewed a clump of blue blood.
His mana was rapidly depleting.
The Drones were simply, as programmed, mercilessly drawing the mana necessary for their maintenance.
As if ruining his body wasn't enough.
“Ah, aah, aaaaah......”
His once beautiful and vivid blood-red hair instantly turned stark white.
His skin began to wrinkle, like a human who ages miserably after just a few decades.
“No, no, no!”
Before his very last life force was drained, Paimon kicked off the earth—
and lunged at Pierre de Lafayette.
“Keuk?!”
“Get off, get off, get off!”
Paimon frantically struck down with his fists, hammering at Pierre's sword.
There was no sin, no love-hate, no emotion, nothing.
The bloodshot-eyed Paimon had simply, instinctively, rushed at the one with the strongest source of mana and life force in this place.
“Mana, give me your mana!”
His brain, lacking sufficient mana, had already devolved to that of a beast, unable to even conceive the idea of cutting the connection with the Drones.
And at that moment.
Swish-
His two hands, weakened by mana depletion, were severed.
“Ah?”
Paimon stared blankly at his two arms spewing blue blood, then looked at the one who had cut off his hands.
“This is for Jack, for my brother. Demon.”
What is he saying?
Paimon, completely drained of mana and unable to even think properly, did not recognize José Vachet.
Even if he could think properly, he wouldn't have recognized him.
“Even from you... mana......”
The moment Paimon, with only his survival instinct remaining and craving only that, reached out with his severed arm.
“Kraaaaaaak!”
Baal, unable to hold on, finally collapsed, and the Blue Sun fell—
Liberating the demon and his puppets from their madness.
The Blue Sun fell—
Liberating the demon and his puppets from their madness.
Forever.
*
The capital of Abyss Corporation, Pandemonium.
Underground at the Abyss Corporation Headquarters.
Tap- tat-tap- tap-
Delicate, slender fingers tap on a panel.
Then, words appear on the monitor.
A phrase she had input a very, very long time ago, but never expected to see with her own two eyes.
-Administrator Authority Confirmed.
-Life Support System Shutdown.
-Mana Extraction System Shutdown.
Clank-
Confirming the system shutdown, she pulls a lever, cutting off the mana supply.
With just that simple procedure, thousands of lives, whose biological functions had already been mostly neutered and could not live without maintenance, were snuffed out at once.
Gremory turned her back without any lingering attachment, moved to the next panel, and tapped it in the same way.
Confirming the phrase appearing on the monitor again.
Clank-
The last lever was pulled down.
With just a few cold, light touches of her fingers, countless lives are erased.
Absurdly simply.
Unbelievably easily.
......Just futile, and futile, and again, futilely.
Gremory laughed with self-mockery.
To think I couldn't do this simple thing, for hundreds of years.
And at that moment.
“Gremory----!”
A beast's roar, filled with hatred and rage, echoed through the corridor.
Gremory slowly turned her body, directing her cold, golden eyes towards the beast.
“......You're in a terrible state, Baal.”
The once-great Hero of the Demon Race.
The man who was the ruler of Abyss Corporation and the pride of the Demon Race was in a wretched state.
He was dripping blue blood from all over his body, and his two arms were twisted and broken, having lost their function.
Baal looked at the 'coffins' beside them with eyes gleaming with rage and madness.
The glass capsules, which should have had purple mana flowing through their circuits to extract and send mana, had lost all their light and were merely holding the victims.
Like the coffins humans put corpses in before burial for a funeral.
Baal exuded a ferocious momentum and walked towards Gremory with long strides.
Gremory was not afraid.
From the beginning, she had known.
That Baal, and only he, had an Emergency Return System linked to him for emergencies.
However.
If he had just admitted defeat earlier and retreated, he wouldn't have ended up like that.
She only felt that small bit of regret.
Thud!
“Ugh......”
Shoved by Baal, Gremory hit her shoulder against the wall and let out a small groan.
If his arms had been a little more intact, he would have grabbed Gremory by the neck.
“You bitch, you bitch, in the end, in the end......”
Gremory was looking at the emotions painted on Baal's face.
Broken self-esteem.
A sense of defeat.
Revulsion, and...... a sense of betrayal.
Gremory found comfort in the fact that Baal felt betrayed by her—
“In the end, you betrayed the Demon Race and indulged in this human Saintess game!”
“A human Saintess?!”
She shoved Baal away in fury.
Just from being pushed by Gremory, Baal staggered and was pushed back.
Because that was laughable, infuriating, and also sad.
Gremory pointed a hand at the coffins filling the space beside them and laughed.
“Where are the humans here? Baal. O Hero of the Demon Race. Here, look. Where are the humans?”
Gremory's smile was so beautiful and yet so sorrowful that even Baal, filled with rage to the tips of his hair, flinched.
Humans? There are none here anymore.
The humans, inferior in mana, had long since had their very foundations extracted before being sent to the battlefield as Drones.
Only the Demon Races could sustain the over one million Drones accumulated like that.
“Can't you see this state? There's no one but the Demon Races here, Baal. Yes, all of them are Demon Races. Once, you executed the Demon King to save them. Once, they praised you as a hero and fought for you!”
“They rebelled against me! They are traitors!”
Gremory replied with a cold smile.
“The Demon King whose head you severed told us the same thing, Baal.”
-How dare you rebel against me, you traitorous bastards!
A voice that came back clearly even after 400 years.
Recalling it, Baal could not answer.
In front of such a Baal.
“Did you call me a human Saintess? You're wrong, Baal.”
Gremory spread her arms and smiled.
“I gave up on the humans I could have saved long ago, it's already too late. Right now, I saved the Demon Races, Baal. To those who were suffering and slowly dying at the hands of our own kind, I gave them rest.”
At the same time.
The building began to shake.
“......Is this your doing?”
“Yes, this is my doing, Baal. The Demon Races that needed protecting are all dead, and all that's left here are two incomplete people who couldn't become a Hero or a Saintess, so I thought being buried with the building would be a fitting end.”
Gremory, having answered coolly, added with a fresh smile.
“Ah, don't worry. I used my authority to have all the returned succubus children and administrative staff escape.”
Pshh-
Blue blood spewed from Baal's legs, and his body collapsed onto the cold corridor floor.
The building shakes.
With inverted vision, Baal blankly stared up at the ceiling.
He had lost his strength.
His pride was broken.
“...My Abyss Corporation was supposed to be different from the Demon King's Pandemonium.”
Even his anger had lost its place.
And only then.
“It had to be greater than that.”
Having lost all the subordinates who followed him to the end.
Seeing it only with his vision inverted.
“...And in the process, I'd become the monster I killed.”
Baal quietly admitted.
Gremory slowly approached him, knelt down, and sat beside him.
Baal slowly looked into her golden eyes and asked.
“......Saintess. Will your God embrace the kin who died because of me?”
Gremory smiled through her tears.
“I don't know. I don't know either.”
Whether God gave her the power to end the fate of these miserable Demon Races.
Or just for an incomplete person.
Whether He gave her power just to mock her, who could become neither a human Saintess nor one of the Demon Race.
Gremory could not know.
Still, there was one thing she did know.
The scene she saw in the dream of the man connected to the Saintess who succeeded her.
Even if everything Gremory did as a Saintess was a fake riddled with lies.
That it had meaning to someone.
Therefore.
As the building shook more violently and fragments began to fall.
Gremory slowly extended her arms, lifted Baal's ruined body into an embrace, and whispered.
“Them, and you. He would surely grant permission for me to take you to God's side.”
Baal captured the golden demon in his hazy eyes.
The moment the Tower of False Prosperity, built upon despair, came crumbling down.
Baal let out a faint laugh and said.
“That's terrifying.”