"Bring it on, ha-ha!"
A shout, brimming with confidence.
And then, a jarring shock to the cerebral cortex.
'…What the hell is this?'
Artanis, the Witch of Melody, who had been swinging her mace at Kim Jangcheol, felt her mind blank.
Did I see that wrong?
Or maybe I heard wrong?
With a faint hope, she looked at Kim Jangcheol again. And immediately felt her confusion double.
'...'
It was real.
That confident expression.
The Four Heavenly Kings, shoved in front of him.
Like a meat shield.
Or maybe a friend shield, should we call it a "friendship shield"?
'...…'
No.
That's not it.
That's not something you can sugarcoat with such pretty words.
So then…
"...Eh? Eek? Aah!"
Asurat, one of the Four Heavenly Kings, let out a shocked cry. He had originally been pulling weeds in the nearby field. When he noticed chaos erupting nearby, he ran over immediately.
Eyes blazing with anger.
Heart full of worry.
He stood beside the Demon King and shouted,
That he would fight together.
That he would fulfill the duty of a Four Heavenly King and defend the Demon King and the Abandoned Land. That even if he were to die at the end of that battle, he would have no regrets. That he would even consider it an honor.
…That was his vow.
He had made such a resolute, heartfelt vow.
And yet…
"W-Wait a minute!"
In his flustered panic, Asurat flailed his limbs. But with his neck grabbed and body lifted into the air, his hands and feet only clawed at empty space.
And in front of him… Artanis, swinging down that absurdly painful-looking mace!
'...Aaaaaah! Wait, I really mean it, just waaaait!'
Credos, you madman!
What are you even thinking!
Why are you pushing me forward as a shield!
A tsunami of panic crashed into the frontal lobe of the Blood Flame's Four Heavenly King. He didn't want to die like this. No, he felt wronged.
That's why—
"Graaaaaah!"
With all his might, he swung his saw-bladed sword. Still with his neck in Kim Jangcheol's grasp, still being held aloft, and toward Artanis, who was swinging down her mace.
Just like a frightened cat wildly throwing out frantic paw punches.
Kwakwakwakwa—!
The saw blade released its power, crimson energy coiling like veins around it. But the desperate counterattack posed no real threat to Artanis.
Kwachaang—!
Artanis's mace struck down the sword aura with ease. And then, it came crashing down. Right toward Asurat's crown.
"...!"
Ah…
Mom…
I think this is it for me.
So when we meet soon, would you mind telling people? That your son was the best meat shield.
'Damn it!'
Sensing his final moments, Asurat instinctively clenched his eyes shut. He braced himself to be shattered into pieces.
But then something strange happened.
Fwoooooosh!
A terrifying sonic boom whooshed past his head. And then—nothing happened. His skull wasn't crushed. He wasn't dealt a fatal blow that would end his life.
"...Huh?"
Asurat opened his tightly shut eyes. And saw it. Artanis had pulled back her mace and was leaping to the side.
And from the flank, she swung again!
Fwoooosh!
A sonic boom like a typhoon tearing through the air!
That monstrous, heavy mace head was flying straight toward Kim Jangcheol's ribs.
But Kim Jangcheol wasn't about to take the hit lying down.
"Not so fast!"
Whip!
Defense?
Not needed.
Dodge?
Pointless.
The moment he sensed the flank attack, he turned his body slightly that way. And in the direction of the incoming mace, he shoved Asurat.
"...Waaaaaaugh!"
Realizing the situation, Asurat screamed in terror. Meanwhile, Artanis's expression twisted into a mixture of disbelief and disdain.
'...'
She was stunned.
At first, she had thought it was just a misstep, a farcical blunder in coordination between Credos and the Four Heavenly Kings. But looking again, she wasn't so sure.
So, this guy Credos...
'He's actually using his own subordinate… as a shield to hide behind?'
Is that even possible?
No, is that even allowed?
'...…'
She couldn't make sense of it.
Something was deeply wrong.
It felt like the collapse of ethics and decency. Like the final shred of her lifelong belief in morality—not even humanity, but demonhood—was crumbling away.
But still, this couldn't be right.
There are lines you just shouldn't cross.
…And that very line was being stomped on, over and over, by dirt-covered feet. That's what it felt like.
'Seriously… is this for real?'
Suppressing her growing sense of outrage and bewilderment, she withdrew her mace once more.
She couldn't bring herself to strike that pitiful(?) Four Heavenly King.
Because she had made a promise.
That she wouldn't harm his subordinates. That she wouldn't injure them, or even touch them.
She had made that promise with her own mouth.
'...…'
She kind of regretted it now.
With a hint of remorse, she kicked off the ground. She moved at high speed, aiming to strike Kim Jangcheol from the rear—where he couldn't use his meat shield.
But Kim Jangcheol had already seen right through her plan.
'In a situation like this, there's only a handful of responses to expect!'
Whip!
He spun around.
And promptly shoved Asurat forward.
As she trembled with fury, Artanis soared high into the air.
Asurat used him as an umbrella, shielding his head.
Enraged, she tried to kick Asurat away.
Terrified, Asurat screamed "Uwaaaagh!" and wildly swung his saw-bladed sword like a frantic cat punch.
"....."
Honestly, screw promises and everything—I want to just kill them all. Wouldn't that be fine? Just wipe out every last witness. That would probably make things easier.
'......'
No.
The disgrace of breaking even one promise would weigh on my soul for life, gnawing at me.
And that—I don't want.
Because that's not the kind of life I've lived.
In the end, unable to pierce through the Asurat-shield(?), she took several steps back. Then, with stern calligraphy, she condemned Kim Jangcheol's despicable behavior.
—To think, of all people, you'd put your own subordinate forward as a shield and hide behind them to preserve your life. Do you feel no shame?
She meant it.
She truly could not comprehend his behavior.
But Kim Jangcheol saw things a bit differently.
"Shame? No, that's not quite right. Let's think about this. When your arm got stuck in the barrier and you were in trouble, I never once harmed you. In fact, I looked after you, supported you in every way. And yet, look at this situation now."
—...…
"This, strictly speaking, is a case of returning kindness with hostility. Now isn't that shameful?"
—.....
There was no fault in his words.
She had no choice but to nod.
—You're right. I admit it. It's shameful.
"And you're still doing this?"
—I have no choice.
Artanis's gaze darkened as she wrote into the air.
—I must break the seal and reclaim the power of melody. That is my long-held wish, and also the sincere wish of my loyal followers.
And giving up that wish would be the same as betraying them. I cannot turn my back on them. They are the ones most precious to me.
So…
—I hadn't intended to use this method. But now, I have no choice.
The moment Artanis's final glyph burned into the air—
Suddenly, three silhouettes spilled out from the shadows she cast. And then, they appeared at her sides as if assembling into formation.
Her three loyal followers.
Only now, they looked different from usual. Each was already fully prepared to perform.
Largo, the elder with aged eyes, clutched a trombone against his shoulder and placed his lips on the mouthpiece. A perfect embouchure for performance.
Veloce, with sharp blue eyes, had his violin resting between his shoulder and collarbone, his left jaw pressed against it. A bow strung with the mane hair of a Hellknight's warhorse was poised, ready to strike the strings.
And Andante, youthful in appearance, had also assumed full playing posture. Supporting a massive harp against her shoulder, she gently laid her fingers across its strings as if embracing it.
Then, the performance began.
"...!"
It was a performance, yet not a performance.
A sound, yet not a sound.
It was the manifestation of colossal will.
The will of three loyal subjects, determined to see their lady's long-cherished wish fulfilled. And so, it was resolute. Mercilessly cold.
Kteong!
'…Ghk?'
It was the moment Largo's trombone slide let out its first note, played in legato.
Kim Jangcheol felt a jolt, a paralysis sweep through his body. A hallucination? No—it was real. His body stopped obeying.
And that was just the beginning.
Kagak!
Veloce's violin followed with a shattering tone using the scordatura technique, flooding Kim Jangcheol's entire body. And then Andante's harp exploded with metallic resonance through the "près de la table" technique.
Kim Jangcheol's body responded in kind.
Thud!
'Kh…!'
His body froze again.
No—he had started losing control.
He dropped Asurat by the neck. No, not dropped—he let go. His hand moved on its own. Without instruction. As if of its own will.
'What the… is this…'
He was stunned.
He tried to grab Asurat again.
But he couldn't.
With every note played by the three loyalists, with every swell and dive of melody, his body moved on its own—as though compelled by invisible threads of music.
It felt like he had become a puppet, controlled by unseen strings of melody!
'This… this is insane!'
He tried to shake it off, but couldn't. He needed to block his ears. If he just couldn't hear their performance, maybe something would change.
But he couldn't.
To block his ears, he needed to move his hands—but that was impossible!
—Resistance is meaningless. This performance is that kind of thing. One must be forewarned and prepared to escape its effects. Only by rejecting the intent embedded in the music head-on can one shake it off. This is the curse of melody.
Step, step.
Artanis approached calmly, gazing at Kim Jangcheol. And she was sure.
He was caught.
The Marionette Elegy, played for the first time in 300 years by her loyal subjects, was nearly perfect. Thanks to that, Credos—this pitiful man—was now completely entangled in the threads of melody.
—…Once caught by the curse of melody, one cannot break free on their own. Only the mercy of the performer, or death, can grant freedom from its binds.
"...Kh, ggh! Nghh!"
—I truly am sorry.
Kim Jangcheol writhed like an insect trapped in a spider's web, convulsing violently in resistance.
Artanis approached him with genuine sorrow in her heart. His strength was visibly draining.
He was being further and further bound by the curse of melody.
The more he struggled, the more he lost the ability to resist the melody. Eventually, he would go limp—and from then on, the melody would carry his body. He would lose all free will, becoming a puppet that moved as the melody directed.
And when such a person dies?
They feel no pain.
For their consciousness is already gone. They simply pass away with a blissful smile, as if dancing within a beautiful melody, as if dreaming.
'And so…'
This would be her final repayment to him, her atonement.
Swish.
Artanis slowly raised her hand. She pointed to Kim Jangcheol's chest—his heart.
And she waited.
Waited for the moment his dance, fully overtaken by melody, would begin. For the moment he entered a stage where he would feel no pain. For the moment she could deliver him a painless death.
So that she could finally, truly uphold the promise she had made him.
She waited.
But then—
Thunk!
Suddenly, Kim Jangcheol's body shuddered violently.
At the same time, the performance of the three loyalists wavered slightly.
'…What?'
Artanis furrowed her brows.
Could it be—
Was he trying to resist the will of her three loyalists, embedded in their music, with a will of his own?
It certainly seemed that way.
Which is why she felt a pang of regret.
'The will my loyalists have placed in their performance is not something an ordinary being can withstand.'
This was the will of top-tier demon race warriors, cultivated over 300 years. Sharpened like blades in the sorrow of a hellish sealed tomb.
That was not something one could overcome just by summoning some average resolve. It existed on a different plane entirely.
'Of course, you too must carry a will of your own. You've lived by it, I'm sure. But… that alone cannot cross the gulf between us.'
Artanis gazed at Kim Jangcheol with sorrow and pity.
And so, she didn't know.
The will Kim Jangcheol carried within. The will forged through living his life. The will he nurtured while pioneering a new life in this place—just how massive it had become.
She truly, not even in her dreams, could have imagined it—as she began to form a bitter smile.
Boom!
From deep within Kim Jangcheol, a will opened its eyes. A will so overwhelming in scale that it began to crush the embedded intent of the loyalists' music. It shattered the melody head-on—and began to dominate it instead.
Artanis, and her loyalists, never saw it coming—Kim Jangcheol's will, so colossal.
Its name was—Responsibility.
[T/L: I am not getting any support from webnovel platform, so please support me and read ahead chapters on my ko-fi page "RevengerScans" : https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]