The Heavenly Demon Can’t Live A Normal Life [EN]: Chapter 349

Schneider’s eyes widened. Alvarez was on the ground, unmoving. He looked broken. Schneider couldn’t believe it. He stared at Ares.

“…No way…” Schneider whispered.

This was Ares. The Ares he remembered.

People called Ares a genius. He had become famous incredibly fast. He reached the level of a 5-star warrior when he was still very young. He had even defeated Schneider himself. People said Ares was Valhalla’s best, maybe even the best in the whole Salamander Continent.

Schneider remembered that fight. He had knelt before Ares, feeling like a child facing a giant. He had felt deep despair then. That despair came back to him now, even stronger.

But even back then, Ares’s growth was called amazing.

Now, Ares stood tall, and a powerful aura surrounded him. It glowed with a bright, intense light, like a star burning in the sky. Schneider could feel the heat of it even from a distance. A 6-star aura. It was too much to believe.

“What on earth happened in Dimitri!” He shouted, as if screaming.

If he didn’t, he couldn’t accept reality.

The Valhalla rankers laughed at Ares’s choice, yet Ares returned having achieved the clear result of a 6-star aura in a short time.

And that wasn’t all.

His swordsmanship, which drove Alvarez into a corner, clearly showed improvement from before.

Schneider knew people from Roman Dimitri became strong very quickly. It was clear Ares had become much stronger since going to Dimitri.

Other rankers gasped. Some whispered to each other, pointing at Alvarez and then at Ares. They shook their heads in disbelief. They showed similar reactions to Schneider.

As those who were in shock alternated between looking at Alvarez’s corpse and Ares, Count Gomes stopped walking.

“…How could this happen.”

He, too, wanted to deny reality.

In the final scene where Ares cut down Alvarez, he had an ominous feeling.

‘Roman Dimitri. Could they be trying to help the rebel forces in this way?’

Duke Vieto’s rebellion was reckless.

The difference in simple military strength alone was more than tenfold, and the difference in top-tier powerhouses was also overwhelmingly in favor of the other side.

So he couldn’t understand.

In a situation where he would lose the justification for war by receiving help from Roman Dimitri, what on earth was he thinking when he declared a rebellion?

The Valhalla leaders thought they could wipe out the opposition forces in one fell swoop with this opportunity, but now they knew that was not the case.

Roman Dimitri sent troops to the northern front.

This had the effect of initially dispersing the Emperor’s forces, and this time, Ares was sent to deal with Alvarez.

Roman Dimitri’s plan was smart. They knew they were weaker in soldiers and strong fighters. Sending troops north and Ares to fight Alvarez solved both problems at once.

The more Count Gomes thought about Dimitri’s plan, the more worried he became.

‘…If I judge based on common sense, I will surely be swayed by that fellow’s plan. Therefore, a decision is needed.’

His eyes turned vicious.

Dimitri’s strategy had one weakness.

It was the belief that Valhalla would uphold the tradition of warriors.

“ARREST HIM! NOW!” Count Gomes roared, his face red with anger. “He is a traitor! Seize him!”

“…Excuse me?”

“Didn’t you hear me? Don’t look at me with such a blank face, arrest the traitor Ares!”

Instantly, the rankers exchanged glances with bewildered expressions.

No matter how corrupt Valhalla had become, arresting the winner of the finals was too cowardly an act.

Ares was not a traitor.

Just because he had abandoned Valhalla’s nationality, there was not enough justification to punish him, and the only wrong he had committed was defeating a person of the Valhalla Emperor.

Everyone hesitated.

However, Count Gomes judged that he had to deal with Ares at all costs.

“You sons of bitches. Let me make it clear. If there is anyone here who does not carry out this order, I will remember their faces clearly and report them to His Majesty the Valhalla Emperor to receive due punishment.”

It was an extreme choice.

The leader of the conservatives had also long lost his sense of romance.

Facing the madness of the Valhalla Emperor, he, too, had compromised with reality.

It was then.

“Just like my lord told me… you are completely rotten.”

As if he had expected it, Ares showed a cold gaze.

Before leaving for Valhalla, Roman Dimitri had said, “Valhalla has completely lost the pride of warriors. Even if you win the finals, they may try to kill you instead of acknowledging the rights of the victor. No, they will. What you need then is to acknowledge that Valhalla is rotten and reveal that ugly truth to the world.”

People once called the era when Valhalla’s warriors competed at the risk of their lives the Age of Romance.

Valhalla was great back then.

With the desire to become stronger, warriors constantly honed themselves, and solved all problems by exchanging swords rather than words.

It’s not that Valhalla is not like that now.

The difference between then, when it was called the Age of Romance, and now, was the attitude of the warriors who accepted defeat.

No matter how great a power they had, if they lost, they cleanly acknowledged reality.

Bowing their heads and handing over all their power to the victor was not criticized as foolish back then.

It was natural.

Winner takes all.

The strong conquered everything.

The people of Valhalla respected Valhalla’s romance.

Ares, too, was born in Valhalla.

So, he had a glimmer of hope that perhaps it might be different from what Roman Dimitri had said.

“Count Gomes,” Ares said, his voice clear and cold. “I truly hoped Valhalla would accept defeat with honor. If you had, we wouldn’t need to show everyone how ugly things have become here. I was born in Valhalla. I was raised as a warrior of Valhalla. Valhalla’s blood still flows in me. I wanted to protect Valhalla’s honor.”

He sneered.

He raised his hand and signaled.

Then, people flocked in.

The Haomun’s agents incited the people, and they all moved at once upon hearing the news that the finals were being held at the Valhalla Temple.

There, they saw Alvarez’s corpse. The people buzzed.

To those who didn’t even know the finals had started yet, Ares’s victory was a shocking result.

“…Ares won.”

“What happens now? Is Ares ranked 2nd?”

“Already 2nd.”

The appearance of the people made Count Gomes’s expression harden.

He immediately realized Ares’s intention.

‘That cunning fellow.’

People were watching.

If he arrested the victor Ares in a situation where they were watching, the people would naturally be furious.

The public sentiment was already wavering.

Ares stood on a raised platform in the city square, making sure everyone could see and hear him. He wanted to make the people angry, to stir them up.

The rebels might want to hurt him. To do that, they would risk their lives. But attacking him now would be a mistake. The people would turn against the rebels if they tried to harm Ares. They would lose all support.

Count Gomes felt trapped. He didn’t know what to do.

Even some of the Rankers, soldiers who were supposed to follow orders, were unsure. They watched Count Gomes closely, waiting for his command.

Ares looked at the crowd. They seemed lost and without hope. *This* was laughable, he thought. Valhalla was once a proud nation, full of spirit.

Ares raised his voice, speaking loudly so everyone could hear. “People of Valhalla! I remember a time when Valhalla was strong and full of hope! I want to bring back that time!”

This challenge.

Ares agreed with it completely.

He knew it was very dangerous. But he was angry and determined. He was ready to risk everything.

The people stared at him.

The Rankers of Valhalla watched him.

And Count Gomes looked on, frozen.

Ares announced something shocking. “I will use my power as Rank 2 of Valhalla to challenge Caesar, Rank 1 of Valhalla!”

The Valhalla Emperor was unpredictable. Sometimes he cared deeply about running the country. Other times, he acted like he didn’t care at all about being Emperor.

Just like now.

“Do what you want,” he mumbled.

Ares’ challenge.

It was a huge event.

If Caesar lost the duel, it would be a terrible blow to Valhalla’s pride. But the Emperor just waved his hand, looking bored. It was as if he couldn’t be bothered.

Because of this, Count Gomes met with Marquis Belphegor in private.

They needed to solve this problem together. These two nobles were like the pillars holding up Valhalla. They had to work together.

Marquis Belphegor asked, his voice serious, “Count Gomes, who do you think will win? Caesar or Ares?”

“Well…” Count Gomes hesitated. He cleared his throat.

Caesar and Ares.

Caesar was definitely the best swordsman in Valhalla.

Even Alvarez, a powerful warrior, had lost to Caesar many times. But Ares had shown incredible power.

He beat Alvarez using only 5-star aura.

Then, Ares showed he could use 6-star aura! This made people think Ares might actually be the strongest in Valhalla.

“I honestly don’t know who will win,” Count Gomes admitted. “Logically, Caesar *should* win. But Ares has become much stronger since following Roman Dmitry. Marquis Belphegor, if you had seen Ares fight, you would understand. The way Ares crushed Alvarez… it was beyond anything we thought even a genius from Valhalla could do.”

Marquis Belphegor leaned back, thoughtful. “This is interesting. Caesar, and even *he* might not win.”

Castro was known as the best swordsman on the continent.

Caesar was the only one who could truly rival him.

Even though Caesar hadn’t been active lately, both Gomes and Belphegor knew how strong he was.

People often called Caesar “the eternal runner-up.”

They said he could never beat Castro. But everyone agreed he was still Valhalla’s best swordsman.

Marquis Belphegor spoke, his voice firm. “We cannot stop Ares’ challenge now. Too many people know about it. Roman Dmitry’s plan is clear. He wants to divide our forces. He wants to weaken the Imperial Family by dealing with Alvarez and now Caesar. We must trust in the strength of the Valhalla Imperial Family.”

“Are you saying we should just let the duel happen?” Count Gomes asked, surprised.

“Yes.”

Marquis Belphegor explained, “Roman Dmitry wants us to panic. He wants us to focus on this duel and forget about the rebels. He wants us to react angrily and make mistakes.”

Marquis Belphegor understood Roman Dmitry’s strategy.

“Remember, Roman Dmitry also has the Chronos Empire to worry about. Trust Caesar. Trust our soldiers in the north. Valhalla’s warriors are strong. Roman Dmitry cannot use his full power here. He won’t win quickly. This is our chance. Send troops to Hernard now and take it back!”

“Understood,” Count Gomes said.

He accepted the order.

Like Marquis Belphegor, he now believed time was on Valhalla’s side.

But then, before Count Gomes could finish preparing, shocking news arrived for him and Marquis Belphegor.

“Roman Dmitry is attacking the northern border!”

It was much faster than they expected, and a bolder move than anyone had thought possible.

Roman Dmitry stood in Northern Valhalla. The wind was cold, and the land was barren and rocky. In the distance, he could see the high walls of Valhalla’s defenses. He listened to Chris’ report.

“About 100,000 Valhalla soldiers are guarding the northern border defenses. It seems the Valhalla Empire thinks dealing with Duke Vieto’s rebels is more important than the north.”

“As expected,” Roman Dmitry said.

Valhalla saw it as a simple choice: deal with the rebels inside the country first, then worry about the threat from Dmitry outside. Internal enemy first, then external enemy.

For the Valhalla Empire, stopping Duke Vieto and his 200,000 rebels was more urgent than preparing for Dmitry, who might attack at any time. This made sense to Valhalla.

Ares stirring up the people and challenging Caesar also made sense. It was all logical, from Valhalla’s point of view.

‘Valhalla is different from Chronos,’ Roman Dmitry thought. ‘Valhalla is still ruled by what the people think. They can’t ignore public opinion.’

If the people started to riot, things would become very dangerous for Valhalla. If the people joined the 200,000 rebels, and the Imperial Family was attacked from inside and outside, even they might not survive. So, Valhalla was trying hard not to anger the people.

The rebels knew this weakness and were using traditions to gain support.

All these events were part of Roman Dmitry’s larger plan.

‘The Valhalla Imperial Family still thinks they are in a good position,’ he thought. ‘They believe they have a week to deal with the rebels. They think they can use warp gates – magical portals for fast travel – to quickly take back Hernard. But in the end, only the rebels can truly overthrow the Emperor. I need to make sure Valhalla doesn’t get any breathing room.’

Probably, Valhalla wasn’t sending more troops north because they thought 100,000 soldiers were enough.

Dmitry and Hector together had about 100,000 soldiers.

Not a huge army.

Valhalla knew this and thought they didn’t need to send more troops.

Usually, to attack a walled city, you need at least twice as many soldiers as the defenders to have a good chance of winning. Valhalla had strong magic defenses and 100,000 soldiers. They were confident they could hold out for a week and crush the rebels.

But that was exactly what Roman Dmitry wanted them to think. It was the final piece of his plan.

Dmitry always prepared carefully for war. Even in peaceful times, he invested heavily in powerful magic.

“Felix,” Roman Dmitry said, a hint of daring in his voice.

“Yes,” Felix replied instantly.

“How long will it take you to break down Valhalla’s walls?”

It was a reckless question. Most people would ask *if* it was possible, not *how long*.

But Felix answered firmly, without hesitation.

“One hour is enough.”

At that moment, Ares was on his way to find Caesar.

And Roman Dmitry’s army began to cross the northern border into Valhalla.