Barbarian's Adventure in a Fantasy World-Chapter 258: The Demon of the Flower (4)

“Come on, let’s keep fighting!” Ketal shouted.

His laughter echoed across the ruined battlefield, wild and gleaming with madness. Even now, as the dust of battle still whirled and the scent of crushed flowers and scorched earth hung in the air, he wanted more. He wanted to savor every moment, to test the limits of his strength and his opponent’s.

“Let’s make it even more fun!”

With a crazed grin, Ketal charged at Floris once more, each step heavy with intent and impossible power.

“Bloom!” Floris cried. She threw out her hand, panic flickering across her face.

At her command, flowers erupted between them, not just a single blossom but a whole host—dozens bursting into being at once, forming a barrier of vivid petals and jagged stems. The wall of flowers tried to shield her, to keep Ketal at bay.

However, Ketal only laughed, swinging his fist with all his might. One after another, the flowers shattered. His fists smashed through the tangled growth, splintering stems and pulverizing petals until nothing was left to stand in his way. He moved relentlessly forward, breaking through every obstacle Floris conjured, until at last he stood right before her.

Floris brought up her arms in a desperate attempt to block him. A tremendous blow crashed into her guard, the sound of impact splitting the air.

“Urgh!” Floris yelled. She was driven back, her feet dragging furrows in the blood-soaked earth. She could not fully absorb the shock as her entire body trembled from the force. In her eyes was a mixture of terror and denial.

How could this be? she thought.

She knew Ketal should not be able to use Myst for offense, and without it, there was no way to further strengthen his body. At this moment, Ketal was fighting with nothing but raw, unadulterated physical power. Yet, even without Myst, he was overpowering Floris.

She refused to accept it. She was strong, so strong that she had achieved the rank of a demon with a title, standing among the elite as a true Hero demon. Her power was below only that of the Elder Dragon Ignisia.

The Mercenary King, when he had witnessed her strength, had assumed she was on par with the Elder Dragon. However, he had been mistaken; with his limited perspective, he could not truly measure the difference in their power. If compared accurately, Floris was closer in strength to High Elf Queen Karin, a champion among her kind, but still a step beneath the highest echelon.

However, Ketal had faced and even overwhelmed Ignisia in battle, without using Myst at all. He had done the same when confronting Ferderica’s incarnation. With nothing but his body, he had gained an undeniable advantage. Karin, for all her own strength, was clearly below both Ketal and Ignisia in this regard. There was never any real chance for Floris to win.

Ketal spoke, sounding almost regretful. “You’re right. I can’t use body enhancement right now.”

However, it made no difference. His pure strength alone was more than enough for this fight. Ketal darted in once again, and Floris, frantic, spread her hand to conjure another spear of twisted flower stalks. With a mighty swing, Ketal’s fist shattered the spear as if it were glass. Floris tumbled across the battlefield, rolling through the dirt and broken petals.

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself up and called forth another bloom. However, even her magic seemed to be weakening now; the flower she conjured was wilted and dull, its energy faded compared to before. She had given everything to kill Ketal in her last attack, and now the cost was clear; her power was waning.

Meanwhile, Ketal stood at ease, barely showing any sign of exhaustion. Though his reserves of Myst were running low, he had more than enough left to see this battle through to the end.

Floris’s desperation became clear on her face. The word defeat flashed across her mind. For the first time, she understood that victory was slipping from her grasp. For his part, Ketal looked at her with something almost like pity.

“You’re not enough,” he said quietly.

Inside him, the beast of Myst, the deeper, primal presence he sometimes felt, remained utterly silent. It yawned as if nothing here held any meaning, not even stirring at the violence or the demon’s power.

“I haven’t accomplished my other purpose either. It’s a shame,” Ketal muttered.

Floris spat back, her voice raw and trembling, “Don’t be ridiculous...!”

“Even so, you’ve given me a wonderful fight. I’m grateful. This was everything I ever wanted from a battle: facing a Hero-level foe, wagering our lives, feeling the clash of fantastic powers. It’s been truly enjoyable,” Ketal said as he smiled again, a genuine, almost gentle smile.

However, even as he admitted his joy, he knew it was coming to an end. Floris had nothing left to show him.

“I’ll face you with everything I have, right to the very end,” Ketal promised.

He set his jaw, his gaze sharpening, and lunged forward. He grabbed Floris’s arms as she tried to resist and snapped them. With brutal precision, he slammed her head down into the earth. Then, lifting his foot, he stomped down on her again and again.

With every blow, her body caved in, forming deep craters in her flesh. Despite her regenerative power, the damage was adding up. Floris barely managed to knit herself back together, but it was clear that her recovery was slowing, her vitality flagging with every passing second.

“Stop...!” she muttered.

In a frenzy, Floris unleashed a last burst of power. Flowers sprang up in every direction, trying to consume Ketal once more. However, this time, the blooms failed to even open fully. Ketal ignored them, kicking Floris away with a casual motion.

Floris rolled across the earth, battered and broken. She staggered back to her feet, but now even healing herself had become nearly impossible. At this rate, she would be banished from the world, forcefully exiled by the backlash of her defeat.

Floris bit down, refusing to give in.

No. Not like this, she thought. I can’t disappear before staining this world with demonic energy. I cannot be stopped by a mere barbarian...!

She gathered every last scrap of her strength for one final attack. The energy she amassed was so dense, so dark, that even Ketal could not ignore it.

He laughed softly, watching her. “One last resistance, is it? I’ll accept it.”

Floris concentrated, pouring all her remaining power into her hand. There, a single, tiny flower bloomed, yet the power within it eclipsed any she had ever summoned before. Ketal tensed, focusing every muscle and channeling what little Myst he could muster to defend himself.

Floris’s voice was icy, filled with hatred and resolve. “Bloo—”

“That’s enough,” a voice rang out.

Ketal’s expression changed immediately. The voice was female, echoing through the air. It seemed to come from Floris, but it was not her own.

“That’s enough, my child. You did very well. But you look so tired now,” the voice continued, clear and calm. Floris’s eyes widened in shock, as if she too was blindsided by the intrusion. “Let me handle things from here.”

A look of pure terror washed over Floris’s face.

“Wait, Mother—” she cried.

A sickening sound echoed across the battlefield as a hand punched through her abdomen from within.

***

Even from a distance, the survivors could feel the change in the air. The Mercenary King watched with wide eyes.

“It seems he’s won,” he muttered.

The Archbishop could only gasp in horror. “To think... a demon with a title and a rank, a Hero demon, is losing to him...”

What kind of power is Ketal wielding, to defeat such a foe? the Archbishop wondered.

Even among Heroes, there were differences in strength, but Ketal was operating on a level far above any of them. The survivors did not understand the extent of his power, but they were grateful that he fought on their side.

They had done it. They had cast out the demon from the world above. For the first time, they felt hope.

Just then, a wave of dread swept over them. The Archbishop’s face went white. He struggled to breathe, and the Mercenary King, too, was struck speechless. Even Kain felt a chill run through him so deep he could hardly breathe.

“Wait...!” the Mercenary King muttered.

Something was wrong. Something monstrous was appearing where Ketal stood. The feeling was like a god descending to the Mortal Realm, but even more dreadful and alien than that. The evil they felt now was so thick, so potent, that it made Floris seem insignificant by comparison.

“What... what is this?” the Archbishop gasped, his voice trembling as he spoke.

He knew deep in his bones that something had arrived, something that should never have been able to enter this world. It was a presence that should not exist in the Mortal Realm, yet it was now here.

***

Floris convulsed, then went limp. She could not withstand the power overtaking her body and died on the spot. From inside her ruined abdomen, a hand emerged, gripping her slack body and pulling it upright.

A woman stepped forth, revealing herself to the world. She was dazzlingly beautiful, with an alluring, voluptuous figure clad in a dress so ornate it almost seemed woven of living silk. She gazed out at the world with eyes full of ecstasy.

“Ah... This clean air. I have missed it so much,” she murmured.

She trembled with delight as she set her foot on the ground. However, even that simple act began to corrupt the earth itself. Wherever she touched, the ground blackened and withered, as if blighted by an unspeakable evil.

“An uninvited guest, I see,” Ketal said, breaking the silence.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your fight with my child. But I couldn’t hold back any longer,” the woman said, smiling radiantly.

If the Mercenary King or Archbishop had still been present, that smile would have been their undoing. They would have been bewitched in an instant, their willpower stripped away, pledging their love and loyalty to her without a thought. Her presence was overwhelming, suffused with a charisma that could break the will of mortals.

Of course, Ketal was unaffected. The woman seemed to have expected this; she offered him a graceful, almost regal bow.

“It’s my first time seeing you in person. You’re called Ketal, aren’t you?”

“So you know me,” Ketal replied, intrigued.

“I have a great interest in you,” the woman purred, licking her lips. “I know all about you. But you know nothing about me. That hardly seems fair, does it? So, allow me to introduce myself.”

She performed a courtly bow, as if she were a noble queen receiving a guest.

“I am Materia, Mother of All Demons. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Oldest One.”

***

“Oh?” Ketal’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. The title Mother of All Demons stirred a thought in his mind. “Are you the Demon King’s consort?”

“No. He is a being so great, so powerful, that I cannot compare. I am only a mother. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I don’t think you need to humble yourself like that,” Ketal said. He began to withdraw his Myst, saving his strength. Materia did not seem eager for battle—at least, not immediately.

The being who stood before him now, the self-proclaimed Mother of All Demons, was terrifyingly powerful. Her presence alone confirmed it. Ever since he left the White Snowfield, Ketal had only felt this kind of sensation once before, when he stood before Ferderica.

No, she is something more horrific and twisted than that, Ketal thought.

“Is it so easy for something like you to descend into this world?” Ketal said, still smiling.

“Normally, it would be impossible,” Materia replied with a light laugh. “But thanks to the fool on your side, I was given a window. I’m able to intervene, for just a short while.”

Ketal understood what she meant. When Ferderica opened the way to intervene on the Mortal Realm, they had to have crossed a boundary never meant to be crossed. That breach had created a crack, an imbalance—one that now allowed the demon side to send in beings that should never have been able to descend.

“Ferderica is useless to the very end,” Ketal muttered.

“To us, they have been very helpful,” Materia replied, giggling.

Just as Ketal had been sizing up Materia’s power, she was also analyzing him, her eyes narrow and focused.

“You are strong. And... you can use Myst, can’t you?” she asked him. Her gaze lingered on the subtle aura that still wrapped around Ketal’s entire body.

“That surprises you?” he asked her.

“Of course it does. You are one of the Oldest Ones. You are not supposed to be like us, and we are not supposed to be like you. But now you’re becoming more like us, and that is confusing.”

Her words echoed what the Wandering Merchant had once told him.

“You know about me, don’t you?” Ketal said, his interest deepening.

“I don’t know everything,” Materia replied. “But I know where you came from. I know what kind of place it is. And I know that you are a traitor.”

“A traitor?”

“That’s right. You do not belong in this world, and yet you are still fascinated by the Mortal Realm. You came here of your own will. If that isn’t betrayal, what is?”

Ketal laughed at her words. “How foolish my ancestors were. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Absolutely,” Materia replied with a mischievous grin.

The air between them was unexpectedly calm, almost peaceful. Despite everything, there was no tension, only curiosity and a strange kinship.

“May I ask you something?” Ketal asked her quietly.

“I’m in a good mood. If I feel like it, I might answer,” Materia said, smiling.

“What exactly are the Demon Realms?”

“They are seals that we created,” she answered without hesitation.

That answer left Ketal momentarily puzzled.

Seals that we created? Ketal wondered.

He remembered what Ignisia had told him: that in the distant past, there was a conflict between the gods and the Demon Realms—a clash that predated the Divine-Demonic War. Ferderica, too, had told him that those like him should be sealed away, that they were the losers of that ancient struggle.

From that, Ketal had always assumed that the gods had imprisoned the Demon Realms, that the gods had sealed the beings from the Demon Realms away. However, now Materia’s answer, seals that we created, suggested something different.

Materia continued, “To those who once held dominion, the Demonic Realms are the proof of our victory—earned after a war that left half the world in ruin. We couldn’t kill them, so we sealed them away. But recently, that seal broke. Even we didn’t expect that.”

She looked genuinely mystified. With a laugh, she asked Ketal, “By the way, do you know why the seal was broken?”