The Heavenly Demon Can’t Live A Normal Life [EN]: Chapter 249

Cairo was in chaos. The streets buzzed with worried whispers and hurried footsteps. Fernando, like many others, felt lost in the sudden changes that had gripped the city.

When Fernando met Roman Dmitri, Dmitri looked him straight in the eye and said, in a voice that was both calm and commanding, “Fernando, I see your potential. I want you to dedicate your life to my service.”

That day, listening to Dmitri’s words, a feeling of hope sparked within Fernando. It was like a ray of sunlight breaking through dark clouds.

People had always looked down on Fernando. They sneered, calling him ‘the gatekeeper of the 30th rank’ – a cruel nickname for someone stuck at a low level of skill, unable to improve. But Roman Dmitri was different. He saw something in Fernando that others missed, a hidden strength. Dmitri spoke of a future for Fernando, a future where his talents would finally be recognized.

Maybe Dmitri was just skilled at using words, Fernando thought for a moment. But deep down, Fernando felt something real in Dmitri’s presence, a power and wisdom that convinced him. He decided then and there that Dmitri was a man worth following, worth giving his all to.

Filled with this newfound purpose, Fernando traveled to Dmitri. As he arrived, he was amazed. It was like stepping into a completely different world.

He had never imagined a city like Dmitri could exist in this region. It was a place bursting with life and wealth, a stark contrast to the struggling lands he knew. But even more astonishing than the city itself was the way Dmitri’s soldiers trained. It was unlike anything Fernando had ever seen.

Fernando had spent years searching for ways to overcome his limitations. He had studied techniques from across the land, even those praised in powerful empires like Valhalla. But nothing he learned had offered the dramatic breakthrough he desperately needed.

Then, Roman Dmitri introduced him to a different path, a new kind of martial art. It was unlike anything Fernando had ever encountered.

The moment Dmitri showed him how to channel mana in this new way, Fernando felt everything he thought he knew about fighting shatter. “This… this is possible?” he thought, his mind reeling. A wave of pure excitement washed over him.

He had always been frustrated with how inefficiently he used mana, the magical energy that flowed within him. When he tried to create an ‘aura’ – a powerful energy field used by warriors – the mana would spread unevenly, much of it wasted and lost before it could be effective.

But this clumsy, inefficient way of using mana was considered normal. It was how all aura swordsmen were taught, a tradition passed down through generations. Fernando had always felt a nagging doubt, but who was he to question centuries of established practice?

Now, all those doubts and frustrations vanished. Dmitri’s technique completely shattered his old way of thinking.

Fernando threw himself into learning Dmitri’s techniques, studying every detail with intense focus. He saw this as his chance to finally overcome the weaknesses that had held him back for so long.

Learning this new method wasn’t easy at first. Fernando had a natural disadvantage – his ‘mana pathways,’ the channels within his body that carried magical energy, were naturally narrow. This made it harder for him to control the flow of mana, and his progress was slower compared to others when building up power in his core, what was called the ‘dantian’.

But Fernando didn’t lose heart. He had always refused to give up hope, even when others mocked him as the ‘gatekeeper of the 30th rank.’ This new opportunity, this chance to improve, was more than enough to keep him going. He faced the challenges with a determined smile.

The progress was slow at first, almost invisible. But Fernando persevered, and gradually, he started to see results. He trained day and night in Dmitri, pushing himself harder than anyone else. People whispered that he was obsessed, even mad, with his training.

Then, after months of relentless effort, it happened. Suddenly, it was as if a dam had broken within him. *Boom!* A new pathway for mana surged open inside his body.

In that instant, Fernando felt transformed. It was like stepping into a completely new world of power. His senses sharpened, his control over mana became effortless, and a surge of strength coursed through him.

People started to talk about Fernando in a different way. “Poor Fernando,” some would say. “Imagine, he can now use a 4-star aura, even with his weak body! If he had been born with normal talent, he could have been incredible.” They finally understood the nickname ‘gatekeeper of the 30th rank’ wasn’t just an insult. It showed both his limits and his amazing effort to reach that level despite everything.

Roman Dmitri, that man, had changed everything for him. He had given Fernando the key to unlock his potential, to finally overcome his limitations.

The day Fernando went to Dmitri to express his deepest gratitude, Dmitri smiled and bestowed upon him a great honor. “From this day forward,” Dmitri declared, “you will be the sword that guards the Dmitri royal family.”

Time passed. Suddenly, without warning, shadows poured into the area.

Like a dark tide, the shadows surged forward. Fernando roared, his own aura flaring to life around him, a brilliant white light against the encroaching darkness. “Stop them!” he yelled, drawing his sword with a *clang* of steel. A deep *rumble* echoed as the two forces clashed.

This was not the hesitant, uncertain aura he had struggled with before. Now, his aura blazed with power, a fiercely burning energy that seemed to warp the very air around him. It slammed into the wave of shadows rushing towards him.

The shadows swarmed him, attacking from all sides at once. Their combined dark auras pressed down on him, a suffocating weight of malice. But the moment Fernando’s sword struck, his newly empowered aura sliced through their darkness like a hot knife through butter.

*Bzzzt!* Sparks of dark mana flew as their attacks were deflected. The shadows, momentarily thrown back, faltered. Fernando seized the opportunity, charging into their ranks, his sword a blur of motion, slicing through their shadowy forms.

*Flash!* Dark, crimson liquid sprayed from the wounded shadows as they recoiled. Fernando pressed his attack, unleashing a wave of pure aura that blasted outwards. He plunged into the heart of the shadow swarm, a whirlwind of motion surrounded by a sea of darkness. Shadows clawed and lashed at him from every direction, a truly desperate and dangerous fight.

Shadows lunged at him from the left, from the right, from above. Each one aimed to kill. But Fernando’s sword danced and weaved, deflecting every blow. It wasn’t just defense; in the same breath, he would block an attack and then, with a lightning-fast counter-strike, cut down his attacker.

*Thwack!* His sword struck true, an unstoppable blow. Before the shadows could react, their heads were severed, falling to the ground even as the *rumble* of his aura’s power echoed around him.

*Pop! Pop! Pop!* The shadows dissolved into wisps of smoke, scattering in panic. Realizing Fernando was far more dangerous than they anticipated, some tried to ensnare him with tendrils of shadow, while others, abandoning their attack on him, desperately tried to slip past and reach the inner castle.

Fernando realized then that he wasn’t the primary target. These shadows weren’t here to kill *him*. Their real goal was someone else, someone inside the inner castle – someone on a list, someone they were determined to eliminate.

For a split second, the shadows’ tendrils tightened around him, trying to hold him in place. *Boom!* Fernando slammed his foot into the ground, unleashing a shockwave of mana. The shadowy bindings shattered instantly, and the force of his mana blast threw the remaining shadows off balance.

Before the shadows could recover, Fernando was upon them. “Where do you think you’re going?” he snarled, his voice filled with fury. *Flash!* His sword moved again, and more shadowy heads were sent flying.

Fernando stood firm, a wall of steel and aura. He would not let a single shadow pass. Any shadow that even looked like it was trying to get past him, he hunted down and struck without mercy.

Fernando’s power was growing with every swing of his sword, his presence becoming terrifying to the shadows. It was hard to believe this was the same man who had once been dismissed as a ‘colorless and odorless swordsman’ – a fighter with no defining skill, easily overlooked. But now, thanks to Roman Dmitri, he had found his strength, his ‘wings,’ and he was soaring.

In this moment of intense battle, Fernando understood. He had found his purpose.

This fight, this defense of Dmitri, gave his sword meaning. *A swordsman’s life is only worthwhile when his sword serves a purpose,* he thought fiercely. *For so long, I was trapped, weak and useless, unable to overcome my limitations. But Dmitri changed everything. Now, fighting for him, I finally understand what it means to be a swordsman. This is my life now, until my last breath.*

Joy surged through him. All his hard work, all his training, all his swordsmanship – it all had meaning now. It was truly exhilarating.

Like a lost traveler finally finding his path, Fernando had been guided out of darkness by Roman Dmitri.

*Crack!* He crushed a shadow under his heel, his movements now brutal and efficient. He fought without restraint, unleashing the full force of his newfound power. He fought with such ferocity, such unwavering loyalty to Roman Dmitri, that he felt unworthy to even meet his master’s gaze.

Perhaps Roman Dmitri had seen this potential in Fernando all along – this fierce loyalty, this unwavering dedication. That must be why Dmitri had chosen him, given him the title ‘the sword that guards the Dmitri royal family.’ From that day forward, Fernando was no longer the ‘colorless and odorless’ swordsman. He had found his true strength, his true purpose, and his colors were finally shining brightly.

Orange flames roared, licking at the stone walls. Fernando stood firm, and his very presence seemed to burn away the shadows. The Chronos Empire’s perfect plan was failing, thanks to Dmitry’s people. A final, scraping sound echoed as the last shadow lost its grip and fell. Fernando had kept his word: not one shadow escaped. The shadows were gone, completely destroyed.

Outside the castle walls, Mystic’s eyes widened. He stared at the castle, disbelief etched on his face. Using the mental link that connected him to his forces, he confirmed the impossible: the shadows inside the castle were rapidly disappearing.

“Even the shadows have failed?” Mystic murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

It wasn’t just astonishment anymore; it was bordering on the absurd. These were not common killers, but shadows – creatures of darkness, almost impossible to detect, let alone stop. Yet, Dmitry’s people had somehow known their movements and dealt with them swiftly.

Mystic admitted to himself, *Dmitry is cleverer than we thought.* They had people who could fight shadows, and they worked together perfectly to handle the threat inside the castle.

And there was more.

Mystic stared at the castle walls, still standing strong. Suddenly, a subordinate rushed towards him, face pale and out of breath.

“Mystic, sir!” he gasped, “Emergency alert! The northeastern region is mobilizing. Lords loyal to Dmitry are sending soldiers, and even the Cairo Kingdom is moving troops to the border! If we stay here, we’ll be surrounded within twelve hours, maybe less!”

The response from Dmitry’s allies was immediate and united. As soon as they heard Dmitry was attacked, they sent help without hesitation. This showed how deeply they trusted Dmitry. They wouldn’t react so quickly just because they were part of the same Duchy; they truly believed in Dmitry. Even the nobles in the northeast seemed ready for this, and the Cairo Kingdom was joining in.

Just a few years ago, Dmitry was a small noble family. Now, they were powerful and respected by everyone.

“Dmitry,” Mystic murmured, “The more I see, the more dangerous they become.”

He knew Chronos was right. It wasn’t just about reacting to a minor threat. They had to stop Dmitry completely before they grew too strong. Chronos and Valhalla had also started small once.

The Chronos Empire understood the danger of letting Dmitry grow. That’s why the order came to Mystic, delivered with cold certainty:

“Failure is not an option. Even without Roman Dmitry, we must destroy Dmitry completely. If we think one unit of force is enough, we will send ten. We will leave nothing to chance.”

Chronos was like a predator, putting in maximum effort even for a small target.

That was the order. Mystic’s current force was just a fraction of Chronos’s total power, and the shadows were the same. Mystic looked at Dmitry’s castle, his face calm despite the news.

This attack, the shadows and his army, it was all just a beginning, a way to hide their real, much bigger plan.

Inside Dmitry Royal Palace, everyone *thought* they were safe. The outer walls might have fallen, but the inner castle, where Duke Dmitry lived, was still untouched. Surely, they were secure here.

But then, the sound of shattering stone echoed through the halls.

*Thud! Crack!*

A Dmitry soldier, who had been guarding the corridor, was thrown against the wall with brutal force. He’d barely had time to shout a warning before something dark and fast had overwhelmed him.

“You pathetic insects,” a voice hissed.

A figure emerged from the shadows, a man almost made of darkness himself. He sneered at the fallen soldier. Chronos wanted to make an example of Dmitry. They wanted to show everyone what happened to those who dared to stand against the Empire. Their goal was simple: destroy Dmitry, crush them completely, or kill their leader, Duke Dmitry himself.

For this purpose, Sven, a shadow of immense power, stepped forward. Aura swordsmen rushed to block his path, but their swords were useless. Sven moved like a storm, each strike sending trained soldiers flying.

*Rumble!* A wave of dark energy exploded from him – the power of a 6-star warrior. Sven was not just a shadow; he was a force of nature.

He walked confidently down the long corridor, the sounds of fighting echoing from outside. He knew Duke Dmitry was somewhere ahead, and he was certain nothing could stop him now.

How long had he been walking? Suddenly, Sven stopped.

A man stood in the corridor, blocking the way to the massive doors at the end. Sven studied him. He was young, but his face was hard, like a wildcat ready to fight. *Ah, yes,* Sven thought, *I heard about this one. Someone under Roman Dmitry, they said. Madness in his eyes, a dangerous edge.*

“Kevin, wasn’t it?” Sven said, a cruel smile spreading across his face.

Slowly, deliberately, Kevin stood up. He hadn’t moved from this spot during the entire attack.

Sven’s smile widened. “Excellent. To kill you and Duke Dmitry at the same time? Perfect. I will end you here.”

*Clang! Rumble!* Dark aura surged around Sven, a terrifying display of 6-star power. It was a force that no ordinary swordsman in Dmitry, except perhaps Roman Dmitry himself, could possibly withstand.