Akatsuki Translations

Bodies lay strewn about, a grim tableau of the aftermath of the brutal training session. The field was littered with soldiers, making the phrase ‘carnage’ feel most appropriate. Despite the eerie scene, the rise and fall of chests told a different story – they weren’t dead, merely incapacitated, too battered to move.

Weapons – swords, axes, bows, spears – lay scattered across the training field. Here and there, large holes punctured the ground, further testament to the recent violence.

This chaos was the result of training under one of the Four Heavenly Kings, Belzebuth himself. The training was straightforward: a mock battle between Belzebuth and a hundred soldiers. But, so far, the soldiers had yet to taste victory.

The crux of the training was to withstand relentless attacks until the brink of one’s capabilities. The assumption was that they would be using enhancement magic at full power. However, it was impossible to sustain this for long periods, and when the magic ran out, it was only natural that the soldiers would be unable to move.

The objective was to push to the absolute limit and then push even further. For over a year, Mirage, who had taken up his post here the day after his arrival, had been participating in this grueling training.

“Well then… it seems you two are the only ones left,” Belzebuth straightened his askew glasses and grinned at the two officers still standing. Mirage and Astarte, the pair of deputies, stood breathing heavily, their scythes at the ready.

To rectify Mirage’s weakness in close combat, which was exposed recently, he was given a large scythe. The weapon was a signature of Belzebuth and beloved by his daughter, Astarte. It had a reputation for being wielded in the heart of enemy lines, decapitating one enemy after another.

Though essentially a melee weapon, the scythe functioned more like a halberd, leveraging its long reach. It was versatile, capable of hooking, hitting, and thrusting. Mirage had learned many uses for it over the past year. As a result, unlike the other soldiers, he and Astarte still stood, their shoulders aligned, but their limits were approaching.

“Mirage, my magical energy is almost depleted. The next attack will be the last.” -Astarte

“I’m reaching my limit too. I’ve been swinging this weapon around for a year, but I can’t seem to get used to it.” -Mirage

“…If you can handle it to that extent in just a year, I think that’s sufficient. I’ve been using this since I was a child.” -Astarte

“Well, in my case, it’s mostly because of the amount of magical power…” -Mirage

“Still, even so…” -Astarte

Astarte frowned, sweat dripping down her brow. Mirage, hidden behind a mask, confessed his limitations, even as his magical strength was clear for all to see.

The scythe, heavy and front-heavy, could easily create openings if handled improperly. Despite its versatility, it required proper judgment and experience to wield effectively. Mirage, still somewhat inexperienced, was compensating for this with his overwhelming magical energy.

Astarte probably heard Mirage’s comment as modesty. She knew he had a ridiculous amount of magical power, enough to make up for his lack of skill. No matter how much magical power Mirage had, Astarte held a position as the deputy of the Four Heavenly Kings based on her own capabilities, and she was skilled in handling magic.

That’s precisely why Astarte probably perceived that Mirage’s magical power was much greater, around twice or three times her own.

In reality, the amount of magical power that Mirage displayed as his outward strength was adjusted to be around that level, so her estimation wasn’t far off.

However, it was difficult to speculate from the outside how much magical power was being consumed by enhancement magic. Some could achieve the effects of one unit with just a single unit of magical power, while others might require ten units of magical power to achieve the same effect.

And given that Mirage predominantly engaged in long-distance magical attacks in his battles, even though he had improved since a year ago, his mastery of enhancement magic was still far from that of a true expert.

Due to these circumstances, there was a discrepancy between how Mirage’s growth rate appeared to Astarte and how Mirage himself perceived his own growth. However, neither of them seemed to have realized this fact about each other.

“No more talking, you two. Come at me. I wanna at least feel like I’m being pushed.” -Belzebuth

“I’d like to take a vacation sooner rather than later, so I don’t intend to always be in your shadow.” -Mirage

“I don’t necessarily need a vacation, but I would like to break through this stalemate despite my opponent being outnumbered two to one.” -Astarte

The mock battles with Belzebuth were intense, pushing everyone to their limits. Most soldiers couldn’t participate daily, but Mirage and Astarte, his deputies, had been training with him every day for a year. Their goal was to beat Belzebuth, two-on-one. Despite technically being a hundred and two against one, Belzebuth had yet to be defeated.

“I’m going!” -Astarte

“Roger that,” Mirage replied, and they charged at Belzebuth from opposite sides.

The weapons were designed for practice, with blunted edges, but they could still break bones with a wrong hit. Belzebuth, however, showed no signs of panic, parrying their attacks with an ease that was almost beautiful. His silver hair flew around him, adding to his allure. Demons, especially of his kind, aged slowly, and Belzebuth looked no older than a mid-twenties human.

“In sync, aren’t we?” Belzebuth’s words slipped out during the heat of their intense clash.

Neither Astarte nor Mirage had the luxury of responding, their silence thick in the air. But their coordination was unmistakable. They held their positions on the diagonal, always keeping Belzebuth between them, circling so one was always out of his sight.

Though some races could change their physical form through beastification, demons, like humans, typically had a maximum field of vision of about 200 degrees and couldn’t see behind their own ears.

Their scythes’ blades curved against the handle, creating a unique attack trajectory. While this made it a difficult weapon to receive attacks from, it was equally tricky for the attacker.

If an inexperienced fighter tried to maneuver as they did, their scythes would not only entangle but could also mistakenly strike their ally. Indeed, their first day of training had been chaotic, far from coordinated, and Mirage had borne the brunt of Astarte’s reprimands.

But now, thanks to Mirage’s improved skills and their understanding of each other’s movements, they managed to face off against Belzebuth, albeit in a haphazard way.

“But… it’s still not enough.” -Belzebuth

A lapse, a momentary slip, a flaw so small it wouldn’t even be considered by most, caused a slight misalignment in Mirage and Astarte’s cooperation.

Neither Mirage nor Astarte could match Belzebuth one-on-one. That’s why they relentlessly launched a barrage of attacks, not giving him a moment’s respite, and forcing him to focus on defense.

But either Astarte’s attack was too early, or Mirage’s follow-up was too late, they ended up providing Belzebuth a chance to counter.

Belzebuth used the blade of his scythe to scoop up and wrest away Astarte’s scythe, sending it flying high into the air. Normally, this would rob him of the chance to defend against Mirage’s attack, but now there was a slight opening.

The time it took for Astarte to retrieve her weapon and Mirage to hold Belzebuth off alone was a clear disparity.

“Checkmate.” -Belzebuth

He adjusted the trajectory of his lifted scythe to block Mirage’s attack.

Mirage knew he wouldn’t make it in time, but at the same time, a question arose in his mind: was it truly impossible?

He was using his full power to cast an enhancement spell, but that was within his control. What if he ignored the control?

Of course, Mirage’s thoughts weren’t so precisely articulated, but he acted almost reflexively on a split-second decision. He explosively increased the magic power in his right arm, which was under the enhancement spell, to shorten the time it took for his blade to reach Belzebuth.

“Wha-?!” -Belzebuth

Belzebuth’s startled exclamation echoed. His defense, which should have been timely, was too late. His scythe-bearing arms were flung upward by Mirage’s attack, causing his torso to arch backward.

Mirage, sensing an opportunity, swung his right arm again, but it only sliced through empty air.

“I see… it’s not just a double-edged sword; I don’t even know if it’s usable.” -Mirage

Mirage muttered, watching as his scythe, which he should have been holding until a moment ago, fell to the ground with a dull thud.

And with that, both Mirage and Astarte had lost their weapons. They were out of magic power too. All they could do was simply admit defeat, declaring the training over.