Hehe, so this is what one of the seventeen high-ranking demons looks like? Rikel steadied his breath, a grim smile tugging at his lips. So what? In the end, he's just another demon begging to be slaughtered.
His jaw tightened, molars grinding as he glared at the fiend before him—Dikargo Retrakes.
"Oh? So there are some decent humans in this era," Dikargo mused, tilting his chin as his gaze swept over Rikel.
"Watch your tongue, demon," Rikel spat, his voice sharp with disdain. "There are thousands on this continent who could crush you like the bug you are."
"Oho… rude." Dikargo's lips curled into a playful smile, though his eyes glimmered with a cruel amusement. "I didn't expect the humans of this age to have such sharp tongues."
"....." Rikel didn't answer. He only tightened his grip around his sword's hilt, knuckles whitening as his silence spoke louder than words.
"Well then," Dikargo drawled, lifting his hand. Sparks crackled at his fingertips before bursting into arcs of lightning. "Shall we see who the real bug is?"
The lightning gathered, condensed, and twisted—until it took form. A blade of pure thunder materialized in his grasp, humming with lethal energy.
The air trembled as the thunderblade fully took shape, its arcs splitting the ground beneath Dikargo's feet. Each crack of lightning seared the earth, and yet the demon's expression was calm—almost playful, as though he were holding back laughter.
Rikel's heartbeat pounded in his ears, but his eyes didn't waver. He raised his own sword, its steel gleaming faintly under the flashes of electricity.
Without warning, Dikargo swung.
The thunderblade howled through the air, splitting the ground in its path. Rikel barely caught the strike, steel clashing against condensed lightning. The impact sent a shockwave bursting outward, hurling dust and debris into the sky.
Rikel's arms shook from the force. His boots slid back across the stone until he dug his heels in, sparks dancing along the edge of his blade.
"Heh…" Dikargo tilted his head, amused. "Not bad for an insect."
Rikel gritted his teeth, forcing the weight back. "If that's all you've got, you'll die disappointed."
He pushed off, twisting his blade to redirect the thunder strike. In the same motion, he lunged, slashing toward Dikargo's throat.
But the demon was gone.
A mocking laugh echoed in the air just before a boot slammed into Rikel's ribs, launching him across the battlefield.
Cough! Cough!
Blood splattered onto the frozen earth as Rikel staggered upright, clutching his ribs. His vision blurred for a heartbeat, but he forced himself to focus.
I can't take him lightly. If I don't give everything I have… he'll kill me in an instant.
Dikargo stood a short distance away, thunderblade resting lazily at his side, his mocking grin never fading.
"Oh? You're still standing?" he said, voice dripping with contempt. He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with cruel delight. "As expected of a cockroach."
Rikel said nothing. Instead, he raised his trembling hand toward the heavens. His lips moved, whispering words that carried both resolve and fury.
"Eternal Sword Art…"
The air around him shifted violently, the temperature plummeting in an instant. White mist burst from the ground as frost spread across the battlefield like a living tide.
"Form Seven—Ice Field!"
With a deafening crack, jagged glaciers erupted upward, engulfing the earth in a prison of frost. The biting cold pressed against the skin, so sharp it felt like blades carving flesh. The battlefield itself had turned into a frozen wasteland, every breath misting into the air.
Dikargo blinked, raising an eyebrow as frost began to creep toward his feet. His grin widened.
"Oh… interesting." He tightened his grip on the thunderblade as lightning hissed against the cold. "Show me, human… whether your little trick can bury a demon."
With a sharp swing, Dikargo brought his thunderblade down. The strike ripped through the air, splitting the ground beneath him with a deafening crack. Frost shattered instantly, the entire Ice Field melting away under the sheer force of his power.
But Rikel didn't falter. His eyes narrowed, and his body flickered.
Mistfoot Art—Third Form: Illusion Steps!
His figure blurred into mist, darting across the battlefield. In the blink of an eye, he appeared behind Dikargo, his sword already arcing horizontally toward the demon's neck.
Clang!
Sparks exploded as steel met thunder. Dikargo had blocked the strike without even turning his head, his blade humming with condensed lightning.
"Too slow," the demon sneered.
His knee shot forward, then his foot slammed into Rikel's abdomen with monstrous force.
"Guh—!"
The blow launched Rikel like a ragdoll, his body crashing into the stone platform behind him. The structure cracked under the impact, dust and shards of rock raining down.
Yet, through the haze of pain, Rikel pushed himself up again. His hand pressed to his chest, blood dripping from his lips—but his back remained straight, his grip on his sword unbroken.
"Oh?" Dikargo muttered, tilting his head with mild curiosity. A faint smirk lingered on his lips. "You're not bad… for a cockroach."
"Let's see how long you can keep that smile," Rikel growled, steadying his ragged breath. Planting his sword into the ground, he closed his eyes for a heartbeat, letting his will flow through the steel.
"Soul Sword—Ice Cage!"
Rumble… rumble…
The earth trembled violently. Shards of frost burst upward, surging into jagged walls that stretched into the sky. Within moments, a towering cage of ice sealed off the battlefield, its crystalline walls glittering ominously as it locked both swordsmen inside.
Yet Dikargo didn't move. He simply stood there, thunderblade in hand, eyes half-lidded with boredom as the prison closed around him.
"So this is your Soul Sword?" he said at last, voice calm, almost amused. "Not bad… for a human. You are quite good."
His smirk widened. "Which is why I have a proposal."
Lightning hissed as his sword flared, arcs of azure energy dancing wildly across its edge. Raising it high, Dikargo's voice boomed like a storm.
"Thunder Sword—Fourth Form: Azure Sky."
The blade descended like a thunderbolt cleaving the heavens.
CRAAASH!
The ice cage shattered instantly, collapsing into shards that scattered across the ground like broken glass. A violent shockwave ripped through the air, and Rikel's body was hurled backward as if struck by the sky itself.
"Guh—!" Blood sprayed from his lips. His vision blurred, his body trembling. The backlash was merciless—his left arm severed, blood gushing freely as he dropped to one knee, barely able to hold his sword.
Dikargo lowered his crackling blade, his expression softening into something almost gentle. No malice, no mockery—only a calm smile.
"The proposal is simple," he said, voice smooth, almost tender. "Come under me. Serve me… and I will leave your comrades unharmed."
"...."
Rikel said nothing. His breathing was ragged, sweat and blood mixing on his face, but his gaze never wavered. With his remaining hand, he tore the belt from his waist and wrapped it tightly around the stump of his severed arm. His movements were steady, deliberate—making sure the bleeding wouldn't claim him before the demon did.
Dikargo watched with mild intrigue, lightning still crackling along his blade. "Although you are human, your talent surpasses even some of the high-ranking demons… including myself. If you come under—"
"Shut. The fuck. Up."
Rikel's voice cut through the air like steel, hoarse but unyielding. His eyes burned with defiance, a fire that even blood loss couldn't snuff out.
"From earlier, you've been babbling about this and that. Just shut up." Rikel's voice was heavy with annoyance.
"….." Dikargo's jaw went slack. For a moment, the mighty demon looked almost human—flabbergasted at the words of a man on the verge of death.
"You were saying I should serve you, right?" Rikel asked, his expression flat, almost mocking.
"Yes." Dikargo recovered, his voice firm, though a trace of irritation leaked through.
"Do you even know who I am?" Rikel tilted his chin upward, eyes burning. He didn't wait for a reply.
"I am Rikel Kael, son of Richeal Kael, and a dependent of the Fifth Sword Saint."
His lips curled into a cold smile.
"You think I'll serve some mere demon?
He raised his hand and extended his middle finger, defiance blazing even as his life bled away.
Go fuck yourself."
"You insolent brat! Do you even know who you're talking to?" Dikargo spat, his eyes bloodshot with rage.
"Who the fuck cares who you are?" Rikel sneered, his smirk cutting through the suffocating air. "Demon king, high-ranking lord—it doesn't matter. In my eyes, you're nothing more than a bug waiting to be crushed."
For a moment, Dikargo froze, dumbstruck. Then his lips curled, and a thunderous laughter erupted from his chest.
"Hahahahaha! A mere human dares to mouth off like this? You are bold, I'll grant you that. But now… you've crossed the line of no return. I'll personally carve that insolent tongue from your mouth."
Rikel tilted his head, the smirk never leaving his face. "You think it's over? Nah… I've still got one last trick."
With deliberate calm, he rose to his feet, gripping his sword tightly. The oppressive weight that Dikargo exuded moments ago had vanished. Instead, a crushing aura began radiating from Rikel—so sharp and heavy it clashed head-on with the demon's.
Rikel's smile widened. "It's just the beginning."