The Heavenly Demon Can't Live a Normal Life

The rumors began with the merchants of Marin. As if they had heard the information from somewhere, in a hushed voice, they spoke to people who had been shopping since the morning.

“You better not have high hopes for this festival.”

“What are you talking about? Do you know how long I have been waiting for this day?”

The customer’s eyes widened.

It was about the showdown between Roman Dmitry and Barbossa. As Morales fell, people showed great interest, and people’s anticipation for it was so great that they talked all night.

If Barbossa won, it would mean protecting the honor of Valhalla, but if Roman Dmitry won, it would be an event that would remain in the history of the continent.

Just 20 years old. Roman Dmitry would lead the future by rising to the ranks of the Twelve Swords of the Continent at an age when others would consider one a genius, even if they only used a 3-star aura.

It didn’t matter if he was from a small nation. It was clear that their next move would definitely bring immense pressure on Roman Dmitry.

But what was this merchant telling him about not expecting too much from the spar?

“… I also heard this by chance through the servants of my business partners, but after the eve of the festival, there was this uproar where Roman Dmitry was staying, and I heard SOMEONE used poison. In the end, they couldn’t find the person behind it, but Roman Dmitry said he would participate in the match despite being poisoned. So do not pay much attention to it. How can the poisoned Roman Dmitry defeat Barbossa when he isn’t even in a normal state? Now his victory cannot be assured.”

“Who is that bastard who dared to poison him?”

The customer was angry. To drop the honor of Valhalla like that. The festival was a sacred stage, and it was unacceptable to poison someone from another nation.

Rumors spread. It was the truth at first, but when the day shone bright, a part of it was distorted.

“Roman Dmitry has been poisoned and is unable to fight normally. Still, in order to show the spirit of a warrior, he said he would step onto the stage even if it meant dying. This is an incident that Valhalla should be ashamed of. Serving guests poison isn’t enough, but the way Barbossa is not saying anything is too much. Maybe it is like this. I don’t know if Barbossa was scared after seeing Morales’s fight and had tampered with something there. Everyone denies it, but Barbossa isn’t a clean guy.”

The rumors spread. The words covered the city, and Roman Dmitry became a warrior who knew the honor of Valhalla.

The prejudice had long disappeared. Roman Dmitry, who had already been recognized in the fight against Morales, showed a strong desire for the festival, so the people of Valhalla couldn’t help but love him.

The merchants who first spread rumors, the travelers on the street who talked about it, and even the people who nodded their heads—all of them belonged to the Lower District sect.

It was Roman Dmitry’s intelligence organization. Just taking control of Dmitry wasn’t enough. They had even penetrated the bottom of the empire. It was the perfect Lower District sect.

The actions in the past, the facts that supported the rumors, and some seasoning.

People flocked to the site of the festival. If Roman Dmitry, who knew the honor of Valhalla, collapsed as helplessly as rumored, then they would not be able to forgive those who led the conspiracy.

They were closed and simple, but they were people who knew romance. That was the root of Valhalla.

The festival was just around the corner. In response to the rumors that spread around the world, Marquis Belfir’s expression distorted.

‘Someone intentionally spread the rumors. This is definitely the work of the conservatives.’

In his opinion, he couldn’t believe this was Roman Dmitry’s work. Since Valhalla was a land outside of Dmitry’s influence, there were only conservatives who could interfere with his intentions.

Besides, looking at the contents of the rumor, the part that praised Roman Dmitry and degraded Barbossa as if he were part of an evil group seemed to criticize the progressive sect to which Barbossa belonged.

Furthermore, before the festival, the conservative nobles spoke to the Emperor.

“Your Majesty, the Emperor. The public rumors are so vicious. Now that the people of Valhalla are questioning whether poison was used or not, the facts need to be confirmed if it means stopping the festival. Valhalla’s festival is a sacred stage. We cannot allow dirty rumors to tarnish the stage.”

“Right!”

It was the leader of the conservative faction, Count Gomez. At the words he uttered, the Valhalla Emperor looked at Marquis Belfir with a languid expression.

“Marquis Belfir, what do you think?”

At that moment, there was this eerie feeling. The Valhalla Emperor was a person who thought that entertainment was important, and he was someone who showed great expectations for what a stage would be. However, if it gets interrupted by dirty gossip, whatever the outcome, it would be difficult for those involved in this matter to keep their lives.

The showdown between Barbossa and Roman Dmitry was an event that was controlled by the progressives. Not everyone was unaware of the plan related to Kronos, but that didn’t mean everyone was responsible.

Marquis Belfir said,

“Rumors are just rumors. Your Majesty, the Emperor. The warrior representing Valhalla isn’t Roman Dmitry but Barbossa. So watch him. In the first place, he will defeat Roman Dmitry with such overwhelming force that poison isn’t even needed.”

“If you say that, then I will expect it.”

The Emperor took a step back. It wasn’t that he didn’t know about the poison’s existence. He wanted to watch Roman Dmitry’s match, and he didn’t bother canceling the match even though he knew the truth. It was at that moment when…

Thud.

There was the sound of drums. It was a signal for the start of the festival.

Thud, thud—

At the majestic sound that spread, Marquis Belfir shifted his gaze to the stage and clenched his fist tightly.

‘Barbossa, the only way to bury the truth is to defeat Roman Dmitry.’

‘Prove it in front of the people of Valhalla. How Barbossa’s existence was recognized as a member of the Twelve Swords of the Continent.’

They believed that he would win.

Just in time, the warriors of the festival appeared on the stage.

Barbossa and Roman Dmitry faced each other. Then Barbossa looked at Roman Dmitry and smiled,

“I am worried about whether your body is alright. The poison you had taken will take some time to take effect.”

He was dying. Knowing that the crowd couldn’t hear them, he openly mocked the opponent in a voice only Roman Dmitry could hear.

Using poison was a cowardly act, but Barbossa felt no shame. He was different from the normal warriors of Valhalla. The people of Valhalla believed that there was something for warriors in the afterlife, but Barbossa wanted to enjoy everything in this life.

Indeed, his method was correct. While Morales, who cried for honor, died in vain, didn’t he survive until the end, representing Valhalla? It was a world where the winner took all. In the midst of the new and changing flow, Barbossa was the most realistically developed being.

But Roman Dmitry’s reaction was calm. Even though it was clear that there must have been an adverse reaction from the poison, he looked at Barbossa and said something strange.

“When I first learned about this world, I had been curious about the existence of the Twelve Swords of the Continent and the people who were recognized as the best. How strong they are, and how long it will take for me in this life to defeat them. A lot has happened in the meantime. And I judged that the time had come, so I accepted Valhalla’s invitation.”

It wasn’t a conversation. It was a unilateral notice. Roman Dmitry drew his sword, looking at his opponent.

“I will tell you in advance. The effect of the poison you are expecting will not appear.”

This position. It was a place for verification. Just as he wanted to prove to everyone that Roman Dmitry was an existence that shouldn’t be ignored just because he was from a small nation, he hoped to gain confidence.

Barbossa would serve as a great example before he dealt with formidable enemies in the future. If he struggled against this man even a little, winning the war with the empire would be impossible.

Kronos and Valhalla. The world, which was like the Great Sea, was equipped with national power that could not be reached just with the power of a single individual. Dealing with them alone would be overwhelming. That was why, in the future war, Dmitry couldn’t back down a single step against the huge fort called the Empires.

Barbossa’s expression hardened. He knew the opponent’s force felt unusual.

Roman Dmitry said,

“From now on, I will do my best. If you block all nine of my attacks, at that point, I will admit that the walls of Valhalla are high.”

It was then, as soon as he ended his words….

Flutter.

Roman Dmitry rushed at Barbossa.

Wheik.

He was fast. Roman Dmitry instantly closed the distance from his opponent and swung his sword with a swirling aura.

‘Heavenly Demon Sword Technique First Part.’

Kwang!

Grrrng.

An intense clash happened. Barbossa took the attack as if it were nothing, and then, on the contrary, he exploded his aura and attacked Roman Dmitry’s gap.

His series of movements were natural and swift. Even though he went through dirty tricks to win, Barbossa proved that he wasn’t powerful in name alone.

‘First Form of the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique.’

Kwang!

The Heavenly Demon Sword Technique was formless. Roman Dmitry suppressed the attack of the opponent with force, and Barbossa’s expression became a little flustered.

It was unexpected. The opponent didn’t back down an inch, as if he were going to lead the attack. Actually, he was even acting like he would take the lead.

Barbossa’s pride was hurt. The Valhalla Festival was obviously the way he accepted challengers, but Roman Dmitry’s attitude looked arrogant.

Flash.

The wind was pushed out. Making Roman Dmitry evade the attack, Barbossa’s unique snake-like sword movement went for the opponent’s neck. But…

Swish.

Roman Dmitry didn’t back down. He avoided Barbossa’s attack just by moving only his upper body, and Barbossa followed Roman’s movement until the end, with his sword constantly changing directions.

His sword technique looked so tenacious. The moment he felt like it was blocked, an attack would come from his blind spot and slash his body, which represented the current sword technique that Barbossa used.

‘Third Form of the First Part of the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique.’

Kwang.

Grrrng.

Barbossa bounced back. As he was caught in the aftermath of the aura, he failed to do what he intended.

“This fucking bastard.”

It was a different situation than he had intended, and Barbossa straightened his stance.

In this fight, being equal to his opponent was shameful. Foolish crowds could be fooled, but figures like Marquis Belfir knew that they used poison. What would they think when they saw the situation here?

The fact that he couldn’t overwhelm the opponent even though poison was used, his value would go down. This was unacceptable.

Barbossa raised his mana. From now on, he intended to push the opponent.

Kwang!

Grrrrng.

Aura swayed. This time, he rushed in first, blocking Roman Dmitry’s space, and then he stamped the opponent at the front. At that moment…

‘First Form of the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique.’

‘Second Form of the….’

Kwakwakwang!

Roman made successive attacks, and the smile on Barbossa began to crack. He was pushed back. Even though he obviously raised his aura to a higher level, the clash with Roman Dmitry gave him an unbearable shock.

The opponent was just in his mid-20s, and it was only a natural result for him to win this battle. Besides the attack he just made, it wouldn’t have been easy to push back Morales, who was doing his best, yet there was no change in Roman Dmitry’s expression as he was fighting against him.

It was from then on that an ominous feeling rose. Unlike usual, the poison didn’t work, and Roman Dmitry’s form was pushing him. In a situation where the possibility of his defeat was rising, Barbossa exploded his power.

Grrrrg!

“Die!”

The world flashed at his power, and even the people who were there couldn’t see it. He was displaying his 6-star aura to its limit, so normal people couldn’t even look at it, and it was different from usual because he had lost his calmness.

He wanted to gnaw at the opponent’s physical ability with his unique snake-like attack, so he should have an advantage.

However, it didn’t matter much. This time, he was convinced that Roman Dmitry couldn’t block this next attack.

‘Third Form of the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique.’

Kwang!

Kwakwakwang!

The world turned upside down. The ground collapsed, and the situation in front couldn’t be confirmed.

Then a cloud of dust rose. When the series of events had calmed down a little, the sight in front was confirmed by the people, and Barbossa was coughing blood.

“Cough.”

His face was painted in shock. It made no sense. It was a 6-star aura. To think he was defeated in the fight between strength, and the opponent just attacked six times. Roman Dmitry had clearly warned him that he would attack nine times, and there were three more left.

Staggering back, he wanted to deny this reality. But as he looked ahead through the cloud of dust, he saw Roman charging at him.

‘First Form of the Second Half of the Heavenly Demon Sword…’

The absolute in Murim and the technique called the Heavenly Stage. When the first blow to enter the realm of the Heavenly Stage was used, Barbossa countered it by raising his aura to the limit, even if it meant burning his life.

This had gone beyond the realm of common sense, and his only hope was to block the ninth attack, but as soon as he encountered the aura, he was dumbfounded.

Annihilation.

Barbossa’s presence faded. The parts of his body that were in contact with the aura burned up in flames, and he couldn’t take his eyes off Roman Dmitry, denying it until the moment he faded. If only he had known that Roman Dmitry was such an existence, he would have never pushed for the confrontation.

Pssshh.

Dust scattered.

That was all.

The result was obvious, yet in the situation where the winner had been decided, none of the spectators were cheering.

No—they couldn’t do it.

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