The Heavenly Demon Can’t Live A Normal Life [EN]: Chapter 339

It was a bizarre scene.

Grakshar’s body twisted and swelled, bathed in crackling purple energy that smelled of ozone and something ancient. His skin turned a sickly purple, stretching as he grew larger.

His eyes bulged, bloodshot and wild, like they might burst from their sockets. Thick, black veins pulsed on his face, like ropes under his skin.

He swallowed a groan of immense pain.

When the increasingly expanding energy touched his severed right arm, it writhed like a living creature, forming a new arm.

This transformation was happening step by step.

It looked very dangerous.

Roman Dmitry felt a coldness in the air. This was not normal magic.

Roman Dmitry quietly watched the process of a monster being born.

“It’s a familiar power.”

Purple energy.

He had experienced it before.

When facing Sheffir, he had been dragged into a purple space by him.

The memory of that day was still vivid.

It was a type of power not allowed in the human world, which led him to hypothesize that there might be a non-human entity behind the Chronos Empire.

Which meant, the entity that granted Grakshar power was connected to the Chronos Empire.

Not only had they extended their reach throughout the Salamander Continent, but they were also secretly plotting something in Arcadia, hidden from the eyes of the people.

He didn’t attack on purpose.

He stood by.

He wanted to see how strong Grakshar would become after accepting the power of the devil.

‘Alexander went into seclusion after the war with Dmitry. Outwardly, they are advocating for peace and strictly adhering to the ceasefire negotiations, but everyone knows the truth is not that.’

Even during the war prisoner incident, the Chronos Empire remained silent.

They, who used to get angry over the smallest things and mention war, now wanted all situations to pass quietly.

Behind that, there was definitely a conspiracy.

It was no coincidence that Alexander went into seclusion, Isabel, who had been hindering the Chronos Empire’s plans, disappeared, and Grakshar heard the whispers of the devil.

There was something.

If it was a truth that Dmitry’s intelligence network couldn’t uncover, he intended to find out at least a part of it through Grakshar.

What if Grakshar had accepted the devil’s temptation earlier?

Before the Luna Kingdom even asked for his help, he would have destroyed Luna’s fortress and completely conquered Arcadia.

He couldn’t have resolved the situation on such a small scale as he was doing now.

If the Chronos Empire intended to form a force beyond the Endless Mountains to attack Dmitry, when war broke out again, unexpected beings would have crossed the Endless Mountains and put Dmitry in danger.

Chronos was still strong.

It was merely crouching down, biding its time, growing stronger to reveal its ambition to conquer the continent once more.

Finally.

“Kraaah!”

When Grakshar’s purple eyes locked onto Roman Dmitry, he vanished in a burst of speed. *Whoosh!* The ground shook!

Grakshar hadn’t disappeared.

To be precise, he had charged in with tremendous speed, wielding his axe with the arm that had clearly been cut off.

Wham!

Rumble!

Roman Dmitry was pushed back.

It was an immense destructive power.

Even when Roman Dmitry blocked the attacks, Grakshar’s power sent strong shocks through his body. Grakshar showed a destructive power that was incomparable to before.

“Kraak!”

Wham!

Wham! Wham! Wham!

He unleashed indiscriminate attacks.

When Roman Dmitry raised his sword to block, he swung his other hand, and as soon as he stepped back, Grakshar immediately followed, continuously slamming down his axe.

Roman Dmitry’s body shook.

Even when defending normally, Grakshar’s destructive power inflicted even greater shock.

To those watching the situation, Roman Dmitry looked to be in great danger, as if he could be defeated at any moment.

Grakshar jumped high into the air.

As he raised his massive axe with both hands, red and purple energies intertwined, exuding an immense presence.

Wham!

Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham!

People squeezed their eyes shut.

The moment he slammed down the axe, even masters like Ares were pushed back.

A chill ran down their spines.

Before accepting the power of the devil, Ares was a worthy opponent, but the being pushing back Roman Dmitry now was completely different.

Two times? Three times? The change in Grakshar couldn’t be explained simply with numbers.

This new power was incredibly destructive. It was even strong enough to push back Roman Dmitry’s powerful energy.

Crack!

The floor caved in.

The snow piled on the floor had already been blown away by the energy that had spread around, and the blizzard couldn’t invade their area due to the aura’s storm.

It was a battle beyond the heavens. The soldiers of Luna lost their words at Grakshar’s power.

If Roman Dmitry wasn’t there, there was no way Luna’s forces could defeat that monster.

“If I can just defeat this man… my people will not have to suffer anymore. I must do this, even if it costs me everything.”

His voice was no longer Grakshar’s. It was a deep, gravelly voice, like rocks grinding together, filled with a dark power that seemed to echo from somewhere far away.

Also the unique breathing of an orc.

It wasn’t Grakshar’s usual voice.

The murky, distorted voice sounded like it could only be heard from the bottom of the Abyss, and even in a state of lost ego, he showed a strong desire to save the orcs.

It was okay to die like this.

No matter what the devil did after taking his soul, what was immediately important to Grakshar was that the orcs did not prolong their lives with the flesh of their own kind.

Whack!

He swung his left hand.

As Roman Dmitry blocked it, he swung his axe again with his right arm.

Wham!

Wham! Wham! Wham!

A fatal blow.

He would definitely kill him.

His desire seethed.

He quickly swept through the space, pushing Roman Dmitry, so fast that ordinary people couldn’t even follow him with their eyes.

But something was strange.

Roman Dmitry was not someone who would be defeated like this.

No matter how many times stronger he became by borrowing the power of the devil, Roman Dmitry’s power, which had blown away his arm with one blow, had completely overwhelmed Grakshar.

But now, Grakshar was unilaterally pushing him back.

Roman Dmitry clearly had a chance to counterattack, but he responded defensively enough to feel strange.

The reason was unknown.

There was no time to think.

The moment Grakshar tried to launch an attack by raising his aura once again, Roman Dmitry’s sword flashed.

Wham!

Rumble!

“Kraak.”

Grakshar was pushed back.

A battle of strength against strength.

Even though he exploded with purple energy, Grakshar clearly showed a 모습 of being pushed back by Roman Dmitry’s attack.

His eyes shook.

He had sold his soul to the devil.

This result was impossible.

In his gaze filled with astonishment, Roman Dmitry looked at Grakshar with indifferent eyes.

“Is this your best?”

The words he spat out showed people the truth.

It was intentional.

He deliberately moved defensively, accepting Grakshar’s full power as it was.

He was strong.

He had no choice but to admit it.

Graksar was a nightmare made real. Only Roman Dmitry could stand against him. But whispers spoke of others, even more terrifying, lurking in the shadows. If those whispers were true, even Dmitry’s strength might not be enough.

Dmitry paused. A smile touched his lips. He felt a real thrill, a spark of excitement he hadn’t felt in too long.

“Do you know what I truly hate?” he asked, his voice calm but with an edge.

Graksar just breathed, heavy and fast, eyes darting, searching for a weakness. But he was frozen, trapped by Dmitry’s presence. He couldn’t find a way to attack.

“It’s a life without a real fight.”

In his past life, he had been Baek Jong-hyuk, the strongest. He had reached the top, learned everything he could. But being the strongest had become empty. Life was boring.

No one could challenge him. His power grew, but it meant nothing. People feared him. Even famous warriors bowed before the name of Baek Jong-hyuk. It was a strange twist of fate.

If young Baek Jong-hyuk had only wanted to be the best, Roman Dmitry now, with those memories inside him, wanted something different. He wanted the climb to the top to be hard, full of battles, full of strong enemies. Because only then would it mean something. Being alone at the top, with no one to fight, was a terrible loneliness.

No, not yet. It wasn’t time for it to end. Whoever Alexandre was, whoever controlled him, Dmitry hoped they were strong. He didn’t want this to be over so quickly. If he was already unmatched, even before reaching the strength of his past life, it would be truly despairing. He was young, not even thirty. His blood was hot with the desire to fight.

And now, facing Graksar, he knew it. Behind Chronos, there was someone powerful, someone he might not be able to defeat yet. If just adding energy could make Graksar this strong, then that hidden person was beyond human limits. How could he not be happy? The fact that there was still a challenge, that he still had to grow stronger, made Dmitry smile wider.

“I hope you’ve prepared more than this,” Dmitry said, his voice ringing out. “Because I’m ready to use everything I have.”

Swish. His sword flashed upwards. Graksar was frozen, unable to even twitch. Dmitry focused his inner power, the Demonic Divine Art, a force that flowed like dark fire within him.

“Witness true power,” Dmitry declared. “This is what you will face from now on.”

Thud. He took a step forward, the Eighth Step of the Heavenly Demon’s Descent. A wave of power exploded from him, like a volcano bursting open. This was the Second Stance of the Heavenly Demon Sword Art, a technique of pure destruction.

Flash. One strike. And Graksar was swallowed by a raging storm of dark energy.

Annihilation. Graksar was gone. Vaporized. For a moment, those who watched were blinded, deafened by the raw power. When their senses returned, there was nothing left where Graksar had stood. Nothing.

Everyone knew it instantly. The monster was dead. The greatest orc the Gray Waste had ever known, defeated by unstoppable force.

Silence fell. Then, a rustle. The remaining orcs. They had seen it all. They had no fight left in them. Weapons clattered to the snow as white flags appeared.

“Squeak! Mercy! Please!”

“Squeak, we will serve Dmitry! Just don’t kill us all!”

Thud, thud, thud. Weapons fell everywhere. The orcs had lost. They knew it. The war was over.

Dmitry spoke, his voice cold. “You had your reasons, I’m sure. In the cold lands of Arcadia, maybe you thought hurting others was the only way to live. But you should have thought about losing. When you started eating humans, treating them like animals, you made a choice. Humans and orcs cannot live together after that.”

“Squeak… please!”

“Squeak, forgive us! Just this once!”

Fear filled the air. The orcs knew, deep down, that they had to change Dmitry’s mind to survive.

But Dmitry showed no mercy. “I don’t hate you,” he said, his voice flat. “But I will not let others like you think they can get away with this.”

Swoosh. Thwack. His sword flashed, and the orc begging at his feet fell, head severed. Blood sprayed the snow. Eyes wide with terror, the remaining orcs stared at Dmitry as he gave the command, his voice like ice.

“Kill them. All of them.”

Extermination. The order was given, and the killing began.

At the same moment, far away, Caden and Jairo pushed themselves onward. They couldn’t just wait to hear what happened with Roman Dmitry and the orcs. Not when tens of thousands of orcs were involved.

‘This is my fault,’ Jairo thought, his breath coming in ragged gasps. ‘I can’t let Dmitry carry this burden alone. Even if I die fighting, I have to try. For Luna.’

It was Jairo who drove them forward. He was still injured, not fully healed. But he urged them to go faster. His body protested with every step, but Jairo ignored the pain, his eyes burning with fierce determination.

He remembered the day Graksar appeared. They had worked with the snowmen, trying to trap the orcs. Then Graksar had come, crushing their hopes. The soldiers had looked to Jairo for answers, for safety. But Jairo had no answers, no promises of safety.

He kept walking, pushing through the snow. Walk, walk, walk. Normally, they would avoid traveling at night in heavy snow. But now, they pushed on, most of the soldiers keeping pace, even skipping sleep to reach the elves’ lands.

Jairo’s mind raced. What was happening ahead? Were they fighting? Were they just watching each other, waiting? Thousands of soldiers against tens of thousands of orcs. This wouldn’t be over quickly. Caden told him to trust Dmitry. But Jairo’s guilt wouldn’t let him relax.

How long had they walked? Finally, they reached the edge of the elves’ lands. Jairo’s hand tightened on his sword. He was ready to fight, to join the battle. But as he stepped forward, his eyes widened.

“…W-what…?”

Before him, the snow was not smooth and flat. It was bumpy, uneven. And the bumps weren’t just snow. They were shapes under the snow, barely visible, but unmistakable. Shapes of bodies. Dead bodies. Everywhere he looked, bodies lay beneath the snow. Jairo stopped dead.