ushernet Chapter 84
Chapter 84
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Chapter 84: Poxxon (5)
Whooooosh!
The sound of the fan's wind roared incessantly in his ears.
Even the powerful gusts failed to dispel the stench and humidity, and Fran swallowed hard.
"O-Oscar. That thing... doesn’t it look a bit... off?"
"Not just a bit."
What stood before them was an abomination, a human body exuding demonic energy.
There was no doubt in Oscar’s mind—he had never encountered such a being in his past life.
‘Now that I think about it...’
He recalled a passing remark from Nebula Grime during a conversation at the imperial palace.
Simply put, they’re humans transformed into something akin to demons. They call it a blessing and cooperate with demons to achieve that state. We call them ‘Demonic-humans.’ However, it’s mostly rumors for now—no concrete cases have ever surfaced.
Perhaps this was what the demon worshippers had so fervently desired—the existence of a demonic human.
‘Back then, I thought it was just some absurd, fantastical story.’
Now, with it standing right before his eyes, denial was no longer an option.
Oscar’s gaze deepened, grappling with a dilemma—how to perceive this being.
‘Should I treat it as a human... or as a demon?’
The question brought an immediate chill, causing Fran to shiver uncontrollably.
"I-Is it the water making me cold? Suddenly I feel a chill."
"......"
Oscar failed to suppress his killing intent for a brief moment.
He glanced at Fran’s hand—bruised blue, trembling, seemingly too weak to hold a whip.
The explosive power of Dance of Steel had taken its toll.
‘He probably can’t use the whip anymore.’
Fran was no longer a viable ally in this fight.
Without taking his eyes off the demonic human, Oscar muttered,
"Fran, go back to the surface."
"What? Why?"
"Because you’ll get in the way."
The blunt yet scathing remark left Fran speechless.
It was essentially saying he couldn’t handle protecting Fran and fighting simultaneously.
"...Alright."
Clenching his lips, Fran nodded without protest.
He understood Oscar’s position, even if the words stung.
‘If only I were stronger, we could fight together until the end.’
As a Level 4 mage, he was now being protected by a Level 3 mage.
Despite recently perfecting a trump card, he could only use it three times in battle.
‘...Damn it.’
The euphoria of defeating Veronica dissipated as quickly as it had come.
He thought he had become a better mage, and it wasn’t entirely false—he had bested someone he thought far superior.
‘Next time, I won’t leave so pathetically.’
He made a firm resolve, stepping back slowly as he offered one final word of encouragement.
"Win."
"I will."
Fran turned and sprinted down one of the eight passageways.
Only when Oscar confirmed he was gone did he feel a sense of relief.
Now, he could bear whatever was to come on his own.
"Hey."
He called out to Moira Main.
If even a shred of humanity remained within him, they could communicate.
"Are you still alive?"
"......"
Oscar waited.
If Moira was still human, she would answer.
If she was a demon...
"...Kill."
He answered.
Oscar narrowed his eyes and asked again,
"What did you say?"
Oscar examined the inside of Moira's mouth for a moment before clicking his tongue.
‘Pinero powder.’
The same powder Moira had used to turn the White Tower's potions into poison.
It seemed to have been an ingredient in the strange drug she'd consumed.
‘Thorough. Utterly ruthless.’
The drug had been designed so that anyone who took it would inevitably die, no matter what measures were taken.
Such a vicious method gave Oscar a sense of who might be behind it.
‘It really does seem connected to those demon bastards...’
However, the so-called "Demonic Humans" weren't particularly threatening.
Although Moira Main's magic had grown stronger after releasing demonic energy, that was all.
‘They didn’t have the high regenerative ability of true demons or any special powers.’
What, then, was the ultimate purpose behind the demons creating these "Demonic Humans"?
Narrowing his eyes, Oscar glanced at Moira and gently closed her lifeless eyes.
* * *
[Shocking! The Hidden Power Struggle Behind the Mosque Tragedy—Is the Blue Tower the Villain?]
[Citizens Caught in the Crossfire of Magic Towers—Can This Go On?]
[(Photo) Citizens Gather in Front of the Blue Tower in Rafs—Criticism and Pointing Fingers Abound.]
[Potion Market Overcompetition—Should the Imperial Family Step In?]
After it was revealed that a Blue Tower mage had been involved in the mercenaries' deaths, public opinion turned sharply.
The startled Blue Tower rushed to declare that Moira Main had acted alone and that they were unaware, but the flames of outrage were not easily quelled.
"If they knew, they're accomplices; if they didn’t, they're incompetent."
In the end, the Blue Tower's deputy master had to step forward to offer a public apology.
Normally, Oscar would have mocked them, but he had no time to concern himself with their predicament.
"...You sensed something strange?"
"Yes. It wasn’t quite magic, but something different—tingling, almost electric."
Upon returning to the White Tower, Oscar immediately reported the incident to the deputy master.
The reason was simple.
‘This will go into the Special Task Unit's activity report anyway, but reporting it directly will get it to the Imperial Family faster.’
He was well aware of his limitations.
Attempting to investigate NewTech, track demons, or chase the Black Fingers on his own would be inefficient.
He simply wasn’t strong enough to do it all alone.
‘I need to take the more efficient and faster route.’
That meant leveraging the Imperial Family.
Even now, the mention of the Demonic Human had caused Deputy Master Hamel's expression to grow grim.
"Did you happen to notice the opponent’s eyes at the time?"
"Oh, right. They turned red. They were originally brown."
"Hmm..."
Hamel let out a heavy sigh and nodded.
"Include detailed information about this incident in your activity report."
"Understood."
"You weren’t injured, were you?"
"Fortunately, no."
Technically, Fran had been injured.
When Oscar mentioned this, the deputy master tilted his head.
"Really? Before you arrived, Fran came to see me."
"What? Why?"
"He submitted a request for closed-door training."
Fran had voluntarily requested seclusion for training?
Him?
Hearing this unexpected news, Oscar smirked.
‘...It must have really bothered him that he couldn’t fight alongside me until the end.’
But it was a good sign.
True strength lies in acknowledging and confronting one’s shortcomings.
‘You have to face it. Only then can you overcome it.’
Fran had recognized his shortcomings and chosen to seclude himself to address them.
Oscar speculated that Fran would likely emerge having improved his basic physical condition and further refined his "Steel Dance."
‘I’m looking forward to it.’
How much would the reinterpreted and advanced Steel Dance differ from what he knew?
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