The Heavenly Demon Can't Live a Normal Life

Lucas’ mouth had gone dry watching the countless applicants be defeated without much effort in the previous 60 turns.

He felt it from the moment he saw Roman for the first time—A monster—There was no other way to express it other than those words. Just by looking at him, his heart was pounding, and cold sweat formed on his forehead. It was so bad that his palms were wet with sweat even though he did not have hyperhidrosis¹.

Lucas, who realized how dangerous it was to face Roman from the beginning, did not smile as cheerfully as the other applicants when Roman mentioned he would do 120 duels by himself.

The battlefield—In the realm of life and death, where even the slightest carelessness could lead to death, Lucas’ keen senses had always saved his life. And it was the same this time—All his instincts told him that Roman was a monster he couldn’t handle even in a hundred years, and based on his past experiences, it was best to avoid a situation like this one. It was clearly a battle in which his defeat was inevitable.

Lucas—A B-class mercenary. People often said he had reached a great position, but Lucas knew he wasn’t that special.

B class is known as the limit of effort. If ordinary people risk their lives and work hard, they can also get B-class qualifications; however, unless they can use mana, they are not allowed to be promoted to A-class. From A-class onward, there were beings that could not be surpassed by mere battlefield experience. A strong force was needed to overpower them, and the essential condition for that was the flowering of mana².

Lucas had reached that limit. As he barely dodged death, he realized that no matter how hard he tried, he had now reached his limit.

Coming to Dmitry was, in reality, a desperate choice. Lucas was at a crossroads, and while longing for a break, he saw an article that Roman was recruiting enlisted men.

He clenched his fist tightly. Then, he went up to the stage, looked at Roman, and grabbed the sword he had prepared separately.

“Start.”

As soon as the start signal dropped, Lucas kicked the ground harshly.

In all of the previous 60 duels, except for the first opponent, no one had dared to advance first. Obviously, watching the giant man go forward without a hitch, everyone thought he had made a hazardous choice.

It was an instinctive decision—And of course, if you make such a decision, the execution must be drastic. A single second of hesitation on the battlefield was directly linked to death, so Lucas aimed at Roman’s head and heart simultaneously and attacked without hesitation.

Lucas’ weapon was truly unique—He used a slightly short sword in his right hand and a dagger in his left hand—Both weapons were made of wood. Roman had provided other types of wooden weapons at the applicant’s request, and Lucas was not the first one to ask for that.

However, his fighting style was unique—Roman’s head and heart—He slashed toward Roman’s head with his sword and stabbed toward his heart with his dagger.

Roman’s movements were quite simple. He stepped back to avoid the dagger from reaching him, then slashed toward the opponent’s sword with the wooden sword he was holding.

Naturally, Lucas quickly closed in. He changed the direction of his sword, swung it as if he would cut Roman’s neck, and threw the dagger in his other hand towards Roman’s solar plexus. It was truly anomalous. There hadn’t been any attempts for a ranged attack yet, but Roman swung his sword again—this time to block all attacks at once.

His breath was choked—He wanted to step back in case Roman attacked him suddenly, but he couldn’t afford to do that right now.

Lucas ran even faster. He pulled out another dagger that had been hung on his waist, and he once again drove himself forward while aiming for his opponent with a two-way attack.

At that moment,

Roman realized Lucas had good senses.

By making a definite mark on their first meeting, Roman sought to earn the blind trust of the applicants.

Literally, in an instant, Lucas’ attacks were blown away, and Roman’s combo attack broke through his defense. Moreover, he hadn’t even used the weapon with both hands—Lucas’s face was stained with astonishment, and everyone watching thought the match was as good as done.

However, just then, Lucas evaded the attack by throwing himself to the ground, and before anyone knew it, he threw the sand he had prepared pre-match on Roman’s face.

And that—was an obvious foul. Still, in this fight, there were no special rules. Roman had only told the applicants to hold on for a minute, so Lucas did everything he could.

Avoiding Roman’s attack was a lucky decision. Considering the length of the opponent’s weapon, he threw himself to the ground first and, fortunately, was able to dodge the attack in only a short amount of time. After that, he immediately sprinkled the sand he had brought in his pocket. He had thought he could never win under normal conditions, so he thought the result would be different if he could temporarily obstruct Roman’s view.

Roman was successfully hit by the sand. And as soon as Lucas fell to the ground, he got up again and ran like a bull toward Roman.

However, Lucas, who was about to reach Roman and swing his sword, looked up; then, his face became pale.

“Huh?!”

Roman was looking straight at Lucas. Naturally, Lucas was confused. He thought that Roman might have avoided the sand; however, as soon as he saw the sand in Roman’s eyes, he was speechless as if someone had sewed his mouth. Clearly, Roman was hit by the sand—The foul worked out as intended, but Roman did not close his eyes despite the stinging impact of sand hitting his eyes, and was instead looking at his opponent clearly.

The red eyes—He should have closed them tightly and complained of pain, but when Lucas saw him, he noticed Roman was only waiting for him to rush toward him.

At that moment,

“…I surrender.”

Lucas threw away his sword. Raising his hands, he announced he had no intention of fighting anymore. It was a quick abandonment—He had only done it due to his experience on the battlefield.

Lucas’ plan—Roman already knew about it. Even though Roman saw him reaching into his pocket, he wanted Lucas to show him what he was capable of. Thus, he was hit with the sand. And despite the stinging shock, he looked straight at Lucas without closing his eyes.

He remembered the past—The Demonic Cult—While learning martial arts there, the first thing the trainees trained in was to not close their eyes, no matter the situation. A martial artist was, in the end, still a human being. And being blind was equivalent to being dead, so they were told not to close their eyes under any circumstances.

Just as the trainees exhaled breaths in a sequence while training in martial arts, they would also blink through thorough calculations. The Demonic Cult’s method was extremely cruel. Throwing sand in the trainees’ eyes was just the basics. There was another way of stopping a blade just before one’s eyes, as well. Obviously, sometimes accidents occurred. However, even when a trainee with a dagger in his eye screamed while kneeling on the floor with his head down and blood dripping from his face, the people training with him did not turn their attention.—In the world of survival of the fittest, blood and screams were like everyday things. And knowing that the cost of the trainee’s slight flinching was the direct cause of the accident, everyone only clenched their teeth and struggled not to move.

Training like that—that was how the Heavenly Demon was made.

“…I surrender.”

Lucas surrendered. He threw away his sword and made it clear that he had no intention of fighting anymore. The test was now over. However, Lucas and the other volunteers only stood in place and watched, thinking that Lucas would be punished.

Lucas’ original plan was different.—He was trying pass by holding on for one minute, regardless of any means or method. However, in the end, he surrendered. Obviously, he knew how ugly this was—Even if their necks were blown away, those who were called warriors did not dare to speak of surrender. Nevertheless, Lucas was not like that. He was a realist. Recognizing his last-ditch plan had utterly failed, he was momentarily overwhelmed by his opponent and surrendered.

However,

“Next.”

At that moment, Lucas looked up at Roman with a bewildered expression. He did not get angry, nor did he ask why Lucas had committed the foul. The only word he said was ‘Next’—That meant Lucas didn’t do anything wrong and didn’t need to be punished. Thus, even a B-class mercenary who had experienced many things in the world couldn’t hide his bewildered expression due to Roman Dmitry.