A natural disaster.

The current Deus Verdi was truly worthy of being called a natural disaster.

The only difference was that he was only striking his enemies with clear precision.

He used Horua’s flames to guide the souls and ensure they wouldn’t harm innocent civilians.

Of course, this was just a stopgap measure in case of emergency, but most of the ghosts were simply pouring out their attacks towards the soldiers of the Republic who had made them like this.

"Extermination units, assemble and advance!"

"The enemy is a Mage! It's over if he gets close!"

"Snipers, take your positions! Open fire on my signal!"

Research Director Barctos let out a hollow laugh as he watched the soldiers move in an orderly fashion.

After the First Detention Center had disappeared from the map, Deus Verdi continued advancing towards the heart of the Republic.

In just a few hours, the second and third detention centers, along with an entire brigade, had also disappeared.

"It’s really ridiculous."

Barctos had no intention of doing anything. All he did was share his sight with the other members of Dante.

Some of the aggressive members of Dante were urging Barctos to fight, but he remained indifferent.

Wasn’t it laughable?

"How can humans prevent disasters?"

Chuckling and shaking his head, Barctos was left speechless as he felt the searing heat of the inferno rising from beyond the horizon.

"How can he wield Horua’s power to such an extent?!"

It was beyond astounding.

It was simply marvelous.

Of course, it was not even half the firepower compared to when he was still the guardian deity of the Marias Great Forest. Still, Horua was now a soul, and a human was controlling him.

- Perhaps because, in the end, even Horua is just a soul.

Barctos could only agree with the judgment of the solemn voice echoing in his mind.

"Right. Indeed. Is it because you both are Necromancers?"

- …

The man who was called a Necromancer did not respond and this reaction piqued Barctos' curiosity. Once again, he posed a question.

“As someone who created an organization called Dante to save the world, what are your thoughts?”

- It's no doubt an enviable talent.

"Hm? It seems like regardless of his talent, you believe that you're not inferior to him, huh?"

- Surely. After all, he cannot be called a Necromancer.

It was a firm declaration.

Despite witnessing the current scene, his voice did not waver nor were there signs of hesitation.

Barctos subtly sounded him out with another statement.

"Indeed, for Heralhazard, who committed a massacre, this must be like a drop in the ocean."

A brief moment of silence ensued.

Without expressing any emotions, the man smoothly changed the subject.

- It would be more challenging to deal with that Dark Spiritualist woman.

"Huheehehehe, even if they are overpowering, his skills are still too mild to say that she is the one who is guiding him, right?"

- …

Even though he didn't reply, it was still as good as a positive response. Barctos simply sighed regretfully as he stroked his chin.

"My compatibility with him is poor due to the existence of Horua. So, I'll just sit back and watch for now, but I will still keep an eye to see how far Deus Verdi can go."

With that, their connection was severed, but they could still witness this scene through Barctos’ eyes.

Along with the soaring inferno like the rising sun, a tumultuous whirlwind of restless souls revealed itself.

Even though he was far away, he still could feel the ominous gusts from his spot.

It wasn’t that Deus Verdi was just stirring up the whirlwind using the souls.

The souls had gathered on their own, becoming a solitary disaster that was advancing to destroy the Republic.

"How did he obtain such talent?"

The situation was absurd, to the point of ridiculousness. Heralhazard might have claimed that he could kill Deus Verdi.

However, he didn’t say anything about being able to reproduce this scene.

Just like how different chefs could produce different flavors using the same ingredients.

This scene was something Heralhazard would never be able to create using his Necromancy.

As Barctos watched the whirlwind of the deceased, the warning of Princess Eleanor Luden Griffin suddenly came to mind.

"The weight of death, was it?"

The huge stack of deaths accumulated by the Republic had collapsed just like that. He couldn't deny that more blood than the Republic could contain had been shed on its land.

"But what can we do? After all, we have a monster that feeds on blood."

If that was truly the weight of death that would condemn the Republic…

"We're still far from it."

Huheehehehe!

Barctos tapped the ground with his staff and turned around. The soldiers surrounding him were expecting his assistance, however…

"It's already too late."

The souls that had suddenly rushed towards Barctos enveloped him and exploded.

And that wasn't all.

The extermination units, who were supposed to charge at Deus Verdi, felt something squirming inside the Protection they were wearing.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

One after the other, explosions erupted from within the protective gear. While the Protection itself remained intact, the members inside were charred black as they collapsed to the ground.

"It’s because they're souls."

Barctos, who had reappeared, clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Pardon?"

Oskov, who had already lost his Protection and was now temporarily acting as the commander, asked Barctos. However, the old man suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter upon hearing Oskov’s question.

"No matter how invincible the Protection may seem, it will have a gap somewhere. Those souls have slipped through that gap and have transformed into magic."

"W-wait, but Deus Verdi is still far away..."

Indeed, that was true.

The massive whirlwind was so far away that it appeared to be the size of a thumb from a distance, yet even from there, he was still able to exert such power?

"Well, what can we do? This is reality after all."

As Barctos shrugged, Oskov fell into contemplation.

In that case...

What would happen if that whirlwind drew closer?

As such fears arose within him…

The radio transmitted the news of the snipers being killed as they were shot by the magic of the souls from a distance that was beyond the sniping range.

[Republiccccccccccc!]

[This is hell! This place is truly hell!]

[Dictator! Such a detestable nameeeee!]

[What did we do wronggggg!]

[I’m not a traitor! I told you! I'M NOT A TRAITOR!]

The screams of souls running rampant amidst the army resounded. Unlike the Griffin Kingdom, the Clark Republic naturally had the means of defending themselves against Black Magic.

They kept trying various methods, such as casting a giant protective barrier to block the Black Magic altogether, or creating white flames to prevent souls from approaching them recklessly, and so on…

However, despite taking multiple measures…

"Ah..."

It was all futile.

The weight of death looming over the Republic was truly immense.

It was difficult to handle the overflow of souls.

"Is this... the end of the castle we've built?"

While Oskov sought an answer with a dejected voice, Barctos, who was watching the scene with a smirk, erupted with boisterous laughter.

"Hahaha! Are you trying to make me laugh to death? Haha!"

Barctos, who had laughed the loudest today, chuckled as he fiercely tapped the ground with his staff.

The insects bounced around in response to his laughter.

"Who? Us? Are you saying you and I helped build this Republic?"

"T-that's..."

Wasn't it obvious?

Oskov was a soldier.

Furthermore, he was also one of the three superhumans in the Republic.

Moreover, wasn't Barctos one of the main contributors that turned the Republic into a technological powerhouse?

The Protection used by the extermination units was a prime example of his masterpiece.

However, Barctos was laughing so uncontrollably, that he had to wipe away the tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"From the very beginning, this Republic was built by one person. What nonsense are you spouting?"

"Pardon?"

"No, perhaps, not a person?"

Barctos simply shrugged.

Wooooong!

A rough sound echoed.

Its speed was incomparable to the carriages of the Griffin Kingdom. As the vehicle was propelled forward by its internal magic engine, all the soldiers immediately stopped what they were doing, stood at attention, and saluted.

Barctos, who had a hunched back, only raised his hand. However, he could feel the presence behind the black window gazing at him.

"Huheehehehe! Here he comes~"

The only black vehicle in the Republic. It was a display of the Republic's technology, boasting of impenetrable strength against bullets and magic, and speed that was several times that of an ordinary carriage.

The only being would take such a precious object and head toward the whirlwind.

"The master of the Republic has arrived!"

Without any hesitation, the owner of the land moved forward, towards the impending disaster.

***A killing intent pressed down on my skin.

But what was important was that the killing intent wasn't focused solely on me.

It would be more accurate to say that I was coincidentally struck by this killing intent.

It was just there.

Wooooong.

The faint white light beyond the whirlwind approached me.

Then, a strange phenomenon began to unfold.

The swirling souls that were venting their resentment began to flee in fear.

I also realized early on that the emotion tingling my skin was fear.

My hand was trembling.

However, it wasn’t my body that was trembling. The tremor originated from Lemegeton in my hand.

The killing intent alone was already pushing away the whirlwind itself, and not even Horua’s inferno was able to stop it.

By the time it had arrived before me, the thing accompanying the killing intent resembled a sedan I had seen back on Earth.

The body of the vehicle was black and sleek, and it had eight wheels.

Though it was much larger, the appearance gave off the feeling of a luxurious sedan.

I could feel a slight wavering in my heart on seeing it.

Thud.

The door opened, and the silhouette of a man appeared in the back seat.

A plump belly, drawing circles like a balloon, and a wide silhouette— although his head wasn’t lowered, there were layers of chin fat, and his head was bald.

No matter how nicely I tried to put it, he did not look like someone you would see in a normal lifetime.

However, a nauseatingly vile energy seemed about to emanate. Residing within that man was something that was impossible to belong to humans.

After pondering for a while, I came up with an answer.

"Ha!"

A dumbfounded laughter almost involuntarily flowed out of my mouth.

The Clark Republic was a place that barely appeared even in the game [Retry].

So, information about the dictator was extremely scarce. Or one could say it was almost nonexistent.

"The Soul Whisperer, Deus Verdi. I’m Magan, the President of the Republic."

Unlike his external appearance, his eyes were full of intelligence and wisdom.

However, that didn't mean he looked good-natured.

Rather, he was very evil.

Meeting his gaze could induce a chilling sensation, as if one's heart were descending into corruption.

"It is quite surprising."

I was now convinced.

"Could it be… that the President is actually a Demon Lord?"

Even when my words hit the bull’s eye, Magan showed no change in expression.

Almost as if he was saying, so what?

"Can we stop here? You've already destroyed three out of five detention centers and crushed one brigade. Considering that we only attacked one territory of a Margrave, it's like we've gotten the raw deal.”

Although it seemed like he had no intention of negotiating, he still brought it up.

Trying to sound him out, I replied.

"I am just relieving the grievances of the dead."

However, his reaction was indeed violently aggressive.

"You're not leading this? You’re just performing a memorial service? Then, you will have no problem if I consume all of them, right?"

Slide.

Magan raised his fat index finger and pointed towards the whirlwind. The souls at the end of the direction he was pointing at began fleeing in terror in an orderly manner.

Gradually, the whirlwind lost its form, and even Horua's inferno was unable to inflict any harm on him.

"If you’ve brought them to my table so enticingly, it'll be troublesome. I might end up eating all of them without realizing it."

"..."

Table.

The man, no, the Demon Lord in front of me, described the Republic as a simple table.

"The guardian spirit of Marias Great Forest, two Dark Mages from Dante, the Great Warrior... And…"

Gulp.

Could the sound of saliva being swallowed be so chilling?

Suddenly, it almost felt like his huge mouth and teeth were tearing into my nape.

"The Saintess of Starlight and the Demon Lord of Deformities. Ah, how tempting! It must be delicious."

"..."

As if he could no longer hold himself back, Magan’s upper body began to lean forward.

In such a dangerously volatile situation, one that did not even allow me to relax in the slightest, the door of the sedan opened at the driver’s side.

Out came a woman.

The woman was skinny and had emerald hair. She then presented a long box to Maganas if it contained a treasured sword.

"Ah, right. It's not ripe yet. I must hold myself back."

His gaze, full of anticipation, was boring into me. Magan swallowed his saliva as he broke the seal of the box, and reached inside.

What could be inside?

The scene that unfolded was so shocking that all my concerns seemed laughable.

It was an ‘arm.’

A slender and fair one.

A beautiful left arm.

Magan kept licking it here and there, like a child with their favorite candy.

As if it was unbelievably delicious…

As if it was irresistibly tempting…

And at the same time.

My chest throbbed.

Something like a scream erupted from within and violently overwhelmed my entire body.

"Ah."

Only then did I realize who that arm belonged to.

The one who had her eyes gouged out.

The one who had her legs rot away.

The one who had her left hand severed.

"Stella."

As I unintentionally uttered her name, Magan's mouth stretched into a huge grin.

"The hand of the woman chosen by the gods is quite extraordinary, right?"

I was unable to even muster a sigh of disbelief.

In the midst of inexplicable terror, my once chilled emotions suddenly became fiery.

"Alright."

With Lemegeton and Horua in each of my hands trembling simultaneously, I unconsciously began to forcefully exert all the mana inside my body.

The spirits of the dead in the surroundings began to respond to me in that state, spewing hatred, and forming a whirlwind once again.

"Tear him apart."

The negotiation had collapsed.