Akatsuki Translations

Mirage floated in the sky, a scythe larger than his own height in his grasp, fixing his gaze on the Wicked Dragon far below.

The rapid appearance and disappearance of gates beneath his feet indicated his use of teleportation magic to stay afloat.

Although the Wicked Dragon had invaded the demon territory, it had attacked several areas not under the control of the Demon Lord’s army after crossing the border, and after causing considerable havoc, it seemed to be resting motionlessly.

Mirage was certain it would start moving again soon, but he hoped to find a solution before that happened.

“Anyway, this place looks almost like a desolate wasteland. In the words of the East, it’s a manifestation of the principle ‘all that’s fair must fade,’ isn’t it?” -Mirage

The residents of the land where the Wicked Dragon was currently perched were members of the Black-fur Tribe, a cat demon clan that had been discussed in the recent bandit disturbance.

The proverb from the East that Mirage mentioned meant that even those who boast of their power must eventually decline. However, in reality, rather than a decline, it was an overnight annihilation. But such minor discrepancies were irrelevant to Mirage.

If the Wicked Dragon hadn’t arrived, it was likely that the Demon Lord’s army would have gone to annihilate them, considering them a dangerous race.

Mostly likely, there was only a single fate of such a race, which destroys other races and turns them into slaves.

“Well then, let’s start with a greeting.” -Mirage

Saying this, Mirage opened a gigantic gate, from which a massive amount of rock began to fall.

He then swiftly closed the first gate and opened a second one where the rocks were falling, creating a corresponding gate slightly above the second one.

The rocks emerged from the upper gate and disappeared into the lower one. By allowing the rocks to fall freely in this way, it was possible to attack with the rocks falling at speeds that would otherwise be impossible.

While this might sound like an incredibly powerful attack, it had several drawbacks.

Firstly, it could only be launched in a downward motion towards the enemy.

The final speed of the falling rocks could be accelerated to the speed of sound, but the activation speed of Mirage’s teleportation magic was not that fast.

Therefore, when attacking, he could only close the gates connected above and below, limiting its use to targeting from far above the enemy.

The next problem was the high consumption of magical power. The consumption of teleportation magic was proportional to the distance traveled, the mass of the object, and the connection time.

In this case, the mass was simply treated as its weight, because when using teleportation magic, it was usually in a stationary or nearly stationary state.

If some force is applied to the object being teleported, the consumption of Mirage’s magic power would literally skyrocket.

Moreover, when the weight increases tenfold and the speed increases tenfold, the weight is treated as tenfold, but the speed is squared, that is, it becomes a hundredfold.

However, the handling of magical power greatly varies depending on the caster’s mental state, physical condition, and technique, so it is impossible to give an exact number. But even so, Mirage had a rough idea of how much it would be.

Though he said it was a casual greeting, this was the way of Mirage—effortlessly accomplishing extraordinary feats.

“Phew, I’ve prepared this much, so I hope I can do some damage… Amas d’ētoiles!” -Mirage

As Mirage excitedly uttered the name of the magic, a massive amount of rock began to fall at a speed that was too fast for the eye to follow.

Needless to say, the only magic Mirage was using was teleportation magic, and there was no need to chant or utter a magic name.

Chants and magic names only serve to assist in activation, and in extreme cases, magic can be handled without uttering anything.

However, it was unthinkable for Mirage, a magic specialist, to not give a name to this attack, which consumed a vast amount of magical power.

And when magical power is consumed too much, one feels fatigue and lethargy, but until then, one feels a unique sense of exhilaration. In other words, Mirage’s psychological state was no different from a child swinging a wooden stick while uttering a special move.

There is a saying that a magician should always be calm, and it may have been the words of a great predecessor who was concerned about such a state.

Soon, a large amount of rocks began to rain down on the ground like a rain, and dust rose, covering the body of the Wicked Dragon.

“Well, I can’t stay here for long. Gate!” -Mirage

The attack from the sky should be noticed immediately, and Mirage was not so foolish as to stand idly by in such a place.

The previous attack was just to gauge the strength of the enemy, and he didn’t think he could defeat it with just that.

He hid in the shadow of a rock a little distance away on the ground, drinking a mana potion and watching the situation. From the dust, a pitch-black spear shot up into the sky.

And a roar of rage echoed across the wilderness.

Feeling an absurdly large amount of magical power, Mirage felt something cold in his spine.

“No, no, no, that’s impossible. If I fight that thing head-on, I’ll be wiped out in no time.” -Mirage

Mirage uttered a monologue, without any intention of being heard by anyone.

Black smoke-like substance was billowing from the body of the Wicked Dragon, and the magical power he could feel from it was so enormous, evil, and ominous that he wanted to think it was a joke.

The pitch-black spear he had shown earlier, and the amount of magical power that exceeded Mirage’s understanding, made him want to admit that it was a natural disaster or something of the sort.

At the same time, Mirage, feeling a strange sense of discomfort, tried to create a small gate near the Wicked Dragon in his field of vision.

However, the teleportation magic that Mirage could handle like his limbs failed to fire, leading to a certain inference.

“…As I thought, it seems to be absorbing magical power from its surroundings, although I don’t know why.” -Mirage

The truth that only Mirage, who excels in magic perception, could notice.

The Wicked Dragon was probably activating magic like the one he showed earlier by absorbing and storing the magical power around him.

The activation of magic is basically done by consuming the magical power inside the body, but there are small amounts of magicules, the origin of magical power, floating in the air.

The consumed magical power naturally recovers by taking in magicules into the body, but the Wicked Dragon had even absorbed the magical power that Mirage had released to activate the magic.

“I guess I’ll investigate a few more things. ‘If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles,’ right?” -Mirage

The proverb uttered by Mirage means that if you know the information of your enemy and your allies, you will not lose even if you fight a hundred times, a saying left by a famous strategist from the East.

How far away he needs to be to activate magic, whether the strength of the magic matters, what the Wicked Dragon’s search ability is like, what his basic behavior principles are, etc.

There were many things he wanted to find out before the military council, and Mirage was devoted to gathering information from the Wicked Dragon.

And victory is not limited to defeating the enemy head-on.

If it’s a defensive battle, it’s a win if you make the enemy retreat, and even if you’re at a disadvantage with a force difference of more than ten times, if you can defeat the enemy’s commander, the rest will become a rabble.

Unlike the demons or humans who have similar intelligence, the Wicked Dragon is a monster that acts on instinct.

And Mirage knew very well that the amount of magical power and the difference in the magic that can be used is not a decisive difference in strength.

He had been made to realize all too well that even with his vast magical power and teleportation magic, a uniquely unfair inherent magic, there were opponents he couldn’t beat, especially since he had come to the East.

“Where is Mirage? What could he possibly be doing at such a critical time?” Astarte’s booming voice echoed through the conference room, followed by the thunderous sound of her hand slamming the table. Twenty officers, all ranking high within their ranks, had already gathered. Only Mirage was missing.

The meeting was already fifteen minutes past the scheduled time, an unthinkable tardiness given the imminent threat of the Wicked Dragon. However, Mirage’s unique teleportation magic was highly suited for military actions, and he held a position similar to Astarte’s as one of the Four Heavenly Kings’ deputies. Thus, they reluctantly waited for him.

“Now, now, Astarte-sama, please calm down. It won’t do to be so agitated. In times of emergency, maintaining composure is crucial. It’s the fundamental principle that has upheld the strength of our army.”

A silver-horned, white-haired old man said, chiding Astarte with a kindly smile on his face. This old man was essentially an influential advisor who had supported Belzebuth for many years and was respected by all as an elder. Belzebuth himself was said to have learned much from him in his youth, and even Astarte, as a child, had affectionately called him ‘Granpa.’ Although his combat abilities were inferior to the other officers, he was a seasoned soldier who never lost his calm and provided a sense of security like a towering tree, thus earning the trust of his subordinates.

“Elder…I apologize to everyone for my unsightly behavior.” -Astarte

“No, no. It’s only natural for young people like you, Astarte-sama, to be hotheaded. You remind me of Belzebuth-sama in his younger years.” -Elder

“Is that so? I’m not sure if that’s… something to be pleased about or not,” Astarte responded, her voice clearly trembling despite her attempt to hide it in his facial expression. The tense atmosphere that had gripped the room due to Astarte’s anger eased somewhat thanks to the elder’s calming presence.

“Ahem. Considering the time, we should start the meeting without further delay,” Astarte declared, clearing her throat. She then proceeded to start the meeting without waiting for Mirage.

“First, the current location of the reported Wicked Dragon is here, moving southwest from the border with the Germania Empire,” Astarte began, sharing the current information with everyone present. As she marked a map of the demon realm on the wall, she explained the situation to the officers. There was a wide array of information, including the Wicked Dragon’s movements over the past three days, the specific damages caused, the evacuation status of the surrounding residents, and more. However, the atmosphere in the meeting room turned tense again when a particular piece of information was revealed.

“Magic attacks are ineffective…? That’s hard to believe. Or rather, it’s something I don’t want to believe,” the elder said, stroking his white beard, his face grim.

The rest of the officers also wore similar expressions, indicating they shared the elder’s sentiments.

“But… I can’t imagine the report is wrong. That guy isn’t the type to make mistakes.” -Officer

“Indeed. That gentleman possessed excellent analytical and judgmental skills,” another officer chimed in. The officers were probably referring to the commander of the unit that had fought the Wicked Dragon.

The report detailed every attack they had made, but none of them had managed to harm the Wicked Dragon. Furthermore, all the soldiers, except for the messenger who had been entrusted with the report, had been killed by the Wicked Dragon and were no longer in this world. What they could do now was to defeat the Wicked Dragon as soon as possible, instead of praying for the souls of the deceased.

“At the very least, it implies that the enemy is not something that can be defeated by half-hearted attacks. The skin of dragonkind is as hard as steel, and it’s not unusual for them to have resistance to certain types of attacks. It seems advisable to focus on a strategy that primarily involves close-quarters physical attacks,” Astarte concluded, but there was an important piece of information missing: getting too close to the Wicked Dragon would result in one’s magic being absorbed, making it impossible to use magic properly.

“Even so, who can inflict a fatal blow on the Wicked Dragon in the absence of Belzebuth-sama? At least, the annihilated unit must have adopted a similar strategy, and I think the same goes for other demons and humans. Still, the fact that it appears unscathed means it has a considerable defense power, doesn’t it?” a female officer voiced her thoughts.

Although not entirely accurate, her words were not far from the truth.

To be precise, their defensive strength was such that they could withstand even rocks hurtling at the speed of sound.

However, even without knowing such facts, it was possible to make educated guesses, and while there might be some variance in the abilities of the officers and units, it wasn’t overwhelmingly substantial.

Considering another unit facing an unscathed opponent, it would be an impossible tale to believe that they could deliver a fatal blow.

“I… I will lead the charge. It’s not arrogance to say that I, as a deputy, am the best at close-quarters combat here. I have been entrusted with the extermination of the Wicked Dragon by Belzebuth-sama, and I will surely accomplish it,” Astarte declared, her eyes reflecting a strong determination. However, the officers who heard this wore indescribable expressions.

Undoubtedly, Astarte was stronger than anyone present, and considering her age, one could say it was the remarkable outcome of immense talent and effort. In mock battles against Belzebuth, she and Mirage could hold their own, and as deputy, there was nothing to complain about.

However, the veteran officers and soldiers knew the man who had once been a tyrant, engaging in brutal battles against the Golden Horned demons on the battlefield. When the demon realm was even more devastated than it was now, he relentlessly hunted down heinous monsters that threatened the populace, without resting for three days and three nights, his return covered in fresh blood.

Everyone present knew of this extraordinary and monstrous figure, someone they could hardly defeat even if they all attacked at once. He was both an ally and a presence more precious than anything else, the Heavenly King, Belzebuth of Purgatory.

“Indeed, I recognize the young lady’s strength, but isn’t this perhaps a bit too severe?” -Officer

This is precisely why such opinions arise, and it’s unavoidable to say so.

Astarte is strong, undeniably strong, but it’s a discussion within the limits of what can be understood. When considering matters of a strength slightly surpassing their own, it’s natural to feel that the extermination of the Wicked Dragon this time is exceedingly difficult due to the many uncertainties.

“Y-yes, you’re right. Besides, even in terms of magic, Belzebuth-sama’s trump card and Astarte-sama’s approach differ. Considering the possibility of attacking from a distance, it might be better to get Belzebuth-sama to return somehow…” -Officer

“Hey, that’s—” -Officer

“—Are you saying that I, as I am now, am unsuitable as the commander?” -Astarte

The conference room fell silent as if water had been splashed upon it.

Although everyone harbored that thought somewhere in their minds, no one voiced those words. The adjutants, avoiding eye contact with Astarte, remained in silence, and this very stance starkly revealed the answer.

Astarte clenched her fists, bowed their head, holding her tears, likely due to being in front of their subordinates, her quivering shoulders gave away the turmoil within her.

“Sorry for the delay. Has the meeting already started?” Suddenly, a man wearing a mask appeared in the seat opposite Astarte, a desk separating them. The gazes in the conference room immediately converged on him.

With a nonchalant tone and casual apology, the man was none other than Mirage, who, like Astarte, served as deputy.