‘It seemed to be a Heaven-grade artifact.’ Malphas stood over the tallest tree at the borders of Titanora, his eyes fixed on the sky.
Several dozen demons, whom he used as camouflage to hide his presence, vanished before closing the distance within a half-mile radius.
It all started to make more sense to him as he pieced together the puzzle of the range, its ability, and the particular strength which seemed to affect him.
It was clear that the artifact affecting them was of Heaven-grade level.
‘Belial seems to have not arrived yet,’ Malphas observed the presence of demonic energy throughout Titanora but found no one around with enough power to be qualified as a devil.
Being the one who left first, he had expected Belial to be the first to arrive, but the opposite was true.
Unbeknownst to him, the errand boy’s journey did not end by merely reaching Malevolia; his work would continue in the background as a messenger to several other lands.
Malphas stood elegantly, wearing a butler’s dress with a black suit that fluttered. His eyes sometimes appeared striked black and other times striked crimson, as if the moonlight was changing the hue of those abyssal eyes.
His gaze seemed to roam toward the center of the continent as his body became surrounded by several crows.
They flew around, casting the whole atmosphere into darkness for half a mile, with a small bunch of feathers scattering through the space.
The breeze blew the feathers around Titanora, as if trying to find someone in this vast landscape.
The feathers scattered from smaller kingdoms to others, yet due to everything already being reduced to rubble from previous battles, there wasn’t much interest for the feathers to spread across the continent.
Slowly, the darkness surrounding Malphas began to vanish. His body leaped forward from the peak of a tree, falling within the forest’s dense trees, and vanished among them.
rustle
Just an inch away from hitting the ground, his body levitated in the air before he started to move forward. The acceleration kept increasing and within a few seconds, his body moved as a blur.
Until feathers found the one he was searching for, his body soared towards any particular direction without prior identification of the way.
‘?!’
Suddenly halting his movement, Malphas’ eyes turned to the several blood stains and a mutilated body fallen in this farthest corner of the continent.
‘A Devereaux?’ Malphas’ eyes fell on the decaying body of a figure whose face was completely bloodied as if punched several times, though it seemed the punches were weaker, like from someone of ADEPT or weaker ranks.
Due to being a part-time Demon General, Malphas had seen several mutilated bodies on the battleground, with their remains being the only things present to identify the strength of the enemies they fought.
Leaning down, Malphas observed one severed hand with several blade cuts on bones and tendons.
The tendons and muscles were sliced so precisely that there wasn’t any clear mark where the skin was stretched.
Normally, with sharp blade cuts, there is a definite stretch on the skin which reveals the flesh within, but it appeared as if sliced by the sharpest blade.
Identifying the wounds on the face, the dissected hand, and the cuts all over the tendons, he at least understood that there were three female warriors who attacked this flag bearer.
Indeed, Malphas even recognized the gender of those who attacked this individual merely by observing the wounds.
These distinctions arise from the typical physiological differences between male and female muscle dynamics.
Women’s muscles, particularly in the upper body, often have a slightly different distribution of strength and endurance. This can lead to a different approach to wielding a weapon, resulting in more precise and controlled cuts, as opposed to the often broader and more forceful strikes characteristic of male combatants.
In conclusion, it was easier for a veteran like him to recognize who inflicted the damage.
Though never underestimating them, he used this knowledge as a precaution to adjust his own fighting style—if women, adopting a more aggressive style targeting their swift decision-making; if men, adopting a more cautious approach.
‘But, he didn’t seem to die due to it,’ Malphas thought. Observing the wounds, he found each had different time frames, meaning the hand cut and tendon cuts had a difference of more than a month, and the same with the punches to his face.
Yet, the green, popped veins on his neck and the tightened muscles of his body indicated the intense pain this man endured before death.
But the issue was, there wasn’t anything broken inside his body, which suggested the presence of a fourth attacker. There were no wounds fatal enough to kill him.
‘If he is a Flagbearer then,’ Malphas thought as he moved his hand towards the wrist of the dead body, which appeared much better preserved than a normal body due to the presence of mana-infused muscle fibers.
Taking his wrist, Malphas’ eyes fell on the insignia, which was hollowed with only a single stroke present.
This clearly signified that another Flagbearer had either killed this one or was present within a certain radius when he died.
Scrch
Malphas tore the clothes from the arms and groin area, where the veins were more centered.
‘?!’
‘Will you look at that,’ he thought, visible amusement passing through his pupils, eyes glinting as he looked at the hair-thin line on the hand and the dense spider veins around the groin area.
This all signified that whoever killed this man had erased all traces of their fighting style and even whatever left was not enough to reveal anything.
Indeed, Malphas couldn’t determine whether the attacker was a woman or a man.
The dissected hand had healed, and with his experience, he deduced it had been cut by a man.
Yet, the crushing of the groin area so mercilessly couldn’t be done by anyone other than a woman.
And even with all this, the healing had erased the essence of the evidence.
In conclusion, someone smart, already aware of anyone noticing this body, had erased their traces in a way that anyone would assume the face wound or others as the cause of death.
‘Drishti Devereaux… or,’ reminded of another name who was also a Flagbearer, Malphas slowly stood, his eyes turning towards the center of the capital city with a cold glint.
His body started to slowly turn dark black as if dissolving into the night, and he vanished towards the Central Country, arriving inside the capital city in an instant.
The scenery changed much faster than he could blink.
‘Ryuk Devereaux,’ Malphas’ eyes pierced through the obstacles in the window of a huge metallic battleship, appearing massive enough to make him look like an ant.
‘Could it be that he sent Belial—?!’ Before Malphas could complete his thoughts, the image of the young man, which appeared much smaller, instantly enlarged until he was close enough to show visible nerves within those amber eyes.
“How dare you enter Titanora without my permission!”
Suddenly, the cry caused Malphas’ body to reflexively lean back to avoid a claw aimed at his face.
His face showed the shadow formed, while his body instantly turned into mist to avoid being stabbed by the sword, whose soft sound tearing through the air could be heard by him.
screeech
Sliding up to a distance due to the instantaneous movement of retreating, Malphas lifted his gaze and looked towards the newly arrived figure who attacked him.
Moonlight seemed to shine on the amber eyes adorned in the face with hair fluttering due to the breeze. Yet instead of that sculpture, Malphas’ attention was captured by the chilling voice resonating from that man.
“How dare a demon enter my land?”
