The Heavenly Demon Can’t Live a Normal Life

The world was bright. As the lightning fell from the sky, Morales raised his head and swung his sword upwards.

Kwang!

Kwakwakwang!

It was a huge shock. His muscles were being pushed to an extent, and the hair on his body was standing up. Morales was pushed all the way, with his form collapsing.

The people were shocked. Since Morales was a monster in Valhalla, he was the symbol of strength, but the scene before them showed Morales getting pushed back.

Kwak!

The ground collapsed. The land that was softened by the impact collapsed, but Roman Dmitry wasn’t constrained by the terrain.

Tak.

Tak.

It was a strange move. He was like a person who had no weight, and even when he was stepping on the ground or running, nothing felt odd. The people in this world only knew how to use aura to explode and kill.

Roman Dmitry’s strength was a martial art that pursued ‘Lightness,’ and his appearance of gaining force even with the falling stones added more shock.

Flash.

Kwang!

He moved to the side. It was a place where there was nothing to step on, but Roman Dmitry swung his sword while stepping on a stone the size of a fist.

Morales had a quick reaction. He boldly tilted his head and let go of the opponent’s attack, but Roman Dmitry once again gained force, jumped, and slashed him down with his sword.

Rumble!

Kwang!

Morales’s expression went stiff. Just looking at how the attack flowed from Roman, his face was red, and the others were the same.

Even though he considered Roman Dmitry to be of the same kind as himself, he didn’t think a swordsman in his 20s would be stronger than himself.

It wasn’t a decision based on common sense. The memories he had experienced while wandering numerous battlefields made him unable to accept that Roman was stronger than himself.

However, not anymore. It was a fierce fight, and Roman had the advantage. It wasn’t just the land around them, but he was also pressing down on Morales.

After all, the world was wide, and Roman Dmitry’s movements were too bizarre for Morales to understand, even considering that a being with all these skills was still in his 20s. In a normal sense, it made no sense, so Morales accepted the reality that he might be defeated in this confrontation.

Kwang!

They rushed at each other. Morales, who pushed Roman Dmitry back with his aura, smiled.

“This is so fun!”

He always wanted to have fun fighting someone like Roman Dmitry and exist as a warrior under the blessing of Valhalla. His open chest showed his scars and proved he was truly happy.

“From now on, I won’t think about the future. This Morales will do everything in his power to defeat Roman Dmitry.”

Kwang!

Mana raged, and a change began to spread all throughout his body. His bones twisted. His huge body swelled to a larger size than before, and his hair grew out of his pores and began to move wildly, covering his entire body to the extent that no tattoos could be found.

Morales’s face contorted. As he looked ahead, he groaned while looking at his opponent. A being in the shape of a bear—he was a descendant of a Beast Man.

The empire’s top Rankers—before reaching that spot, they would have to fight constantly, and having a strong aura wasn’t all that they needed.

The criterion for determining one’s strength was how one could handle power, and Morales was not able to occupy the 12th place with only bold attacks. He had the ability to change that was only allowed for the Beast Men, and as he developed it, Morales reached the stage of assimilation.

“Grrr.”

The blood of a beast circulated in his head. His senses expanded, and he accepted the odd sensations that were transmitted through his surroundings. Then he threw away his great sword. His nails grew from both hands, and they were enveloped in aura, which made it look like he was holding ten swords in each hand.

Tak.

Rumble!

The moment he hit the ground, there was a shock, as if the ground would collapse. Morales and his huge body, which was over 3 meters tall, rushed to Roman Dmitry and swung both hands straight with aura.

It was an attack that made one shudder at the sight of it. Roman Dmitry’s existence seemed to be reduced to that of the beast’s prey. However, Roman faced his opponent. He didn’t back down, and he confronted him head-on.

Kwakwakwang!

Rumble!

From then on, it was a realm of transcendence. As if expecting Roman Dmitry to block the attack, Morales pushed ahead, not even caring about defense. Roman Dmitry’s counterattack didn’t appear to be easy to stop.

The senses of the beast, which were now ten or twenty times greater, rapidly heated up and recognized the intention of the opponent from the start.

The moment he moved his right finger, Roman had already moved to avoid his attack. Then, when he twisted his body and lowered his sword, Morales reacted quickly and slashed the opponent’s attack.

Kwang!

The shock was strong. Morales began to bleed from the corner of his mouth, and his expression had contorted into a happy one as he accepted it.

“Let’s see this until the end!”

Bang!

Ba-Bang!

Whether he died here or whether it was Roman Dmitry who would die, there was only going to be one winner. Even though they had never come across each other before, beings born as warriors of Valhalla meant that they were destined to accept death at any time.

At least Roman Dmitry was nice, and he was better suited to fight Barbossa in Valhalla’s festival. Facing his own attacks head-on, it was the battle of warriors that Morales had hoped to see.

His life was burning. Each time his aura rose, and each time Roman Dmitry ran, his body was screaming. It was warning him that he was using excessive power beyond his human limits, and he would have to pay the price for it. However…

‘I will win.’

Even if he accepted defeat, he wasn’t going to give up easily. Morales frantically raised his aura. As if he had lost control of his body, Morales began to spread all the aura in his body to the ground and pushed himself at Roman Dmitry.

The aura was intensely burning. The 10-level Aura that was expressed through his nails proved to the observers how Morales had risen to 12th place.

He was a broad-minded warrior. Even Rankers in the top ten would avoid him. Everyone hated dealing with him because of his difficult nature, as he was a descendant of the Beast Men, and his attacks neglected defense. So, it was said that Barbossa was reluctant to confront him.

Barbossa was a 6-star swordsman and had the Twelve Swords title on the continent, but that didn’t mean he could defeat Morales without getting wounded.

An opponent who left the realm of aura and took damage—that was what Morales was known for, and he was a true warrior of Valhalla.

Kwak!

He made the ground collapse once again. He knew his opponent wouldn’t back off. His bizarre movement wouldn’t be halted by the terrain, but he tried to explode his aura by predicting his opponent’s direction.

At that moment, Morales’s eyes twitched. Before even exploding his aura, a flashing sword cut through his chest.

Morales was strong. The beings that he had fought with in the past. Even though they were on a different level, there was something that the people of Valhalla overlooked.

The public rumors. The achievement that shocked people wasn’t the result of Roman Dmitry’s efforts.

‘Morales. You are a true warrior.’

Valhalla was said to be a nation of warriors. However, Roman Dmitry’s experience in Vahalla was different from the rumors, as he faced extreme racial discrimination and surrendered to overwhelming violence.

It was a series of disappointments. The only opponent of the Kronos Empire wasn’t a nation that had enough dignity to rule the continent.

And in the meantime, Morales proved Valhalla’s roots. How Valhalla was born, how the empire formed, and his existence said everything.

The struggle that Valhalla spoke about was similar to the methods of the Demonic Sect. Even though the law of the wild was desperate, with life as collateral, throughout the continent, Valhalla was a nation that pursued a method similar to what Roman Dmitry was accustomed to.

His confrontation with Morales wasn’t about mercy. If Valhalla was similar to the Demonic Sect, it was time for him to prove what was right through force.

Roman Dmitry—the swordsman of a weak nation whom people criticized. Against Barbossa, they thought he was someone who was lacking a lot and was worried about.

The battle of strength and power—he enjoyed the fight. He wanted to witness his presence with his own eyes, and the public wanted to see their victory.

In that sense, Morales was someone who genuinely made Roman happy. His attack by turning into a beast showed that the Salamander Continent had places built on effort.

Puak!

The sword cut through his chest. His skin was rough, and even though it was as hard as steel, it cracked. However, Morales pressed on without a groan.

“Ack!”

Bang!

Babang!

Despite knowing that his defeat was coming, no fear of death could be seen in him. And going against Morales, whose presence was burning, Roman Dmitry was willing to fight him.

He cut his arm, blocked his attack, and cut his leg. Then he threw him to the ground as he was rushing to tackle him.

Kwak!

Blood splattered. His face was crushed to the ground, making it shatter. The blood that flowed from Morales was too much, but he raised his head and showed the people his bloody face.

Screams were heard everywhere. Even though people couldn’t accept the truth about Morales, whom they trusted and followed, being crushed one-sidedly like this, the scene in front of them was forcing them to face reality.

Drop.

The ground was stained with blood. Morales smiled and chuckled.

The pain was familiar. He knew he was on the verge of death.

It was clear. He was going to die here today.

The transformation ended. Returning to his human form, Morales screamed with a face filled with madness.

“People of Valhalla! Remember today. Dmitry’s successor, Roman Dmitry, accepted the invitation even after knowing the cowardly plot of Valhalla. He is someone who is born with the pride of a warrior. When all of us doubted his existence, even before the fight against Barbossa, he accepted our challenge without any shame!”

It was a desperate shout. His desperate voice proved that Morales wouldn’t stay alive for long.

“This was such a joy. Valhalla lost its roots as it leaped into an empire, and the nation became large, but we have a narrower mind than a small nation. There are no longer any warriors who want strength. It has become an era in which those who respond to political interests gain power. So, welcome Roman Dmitry’s presence. Enjoy his fight. Keep your eyes open so no one can interfere in the battle between Barbossa and Roman Dmitry.”

The imperial family of Valhalla—Barbossa was their dog. The imperial family would surely be planning for a perfect victory and would try to do anything to make Barbossa win.

Upon Roman Dmitry’s arrival in Paulo, seeing how he wasn’t guided by the officials and suffered racial discrimination proved how narrow-minded these people were.

“Cough.”

He coughed up blood and gripped his sword. As he raised his aura with his sharpened sword, he rushed towards Roman. He was already dead inside.

From the intense clash, his life appeared as precarious as a candle that had all melted away. In that situation, Roman Dmitry showed a ‘part’ of his power in the appearance of a life force and rushed forward.

Step.

There was an intense light, and no one could see the truth. Before they could even recognize that something had happened, Roman Dmitry’s sword cut through Morales’s broad chest once again.

Puak.

Pain rose. Feeling the burning pain spread throughout his entire body, Morales smiled brightly at Roman. He was convinced that, with the attack he just made, he strongly believed that Roman could surely defeat Barbossa.

‘Barbossa. The messenger of death, who will release me, will visit you soon.’

Morales collapsed. After that, everyone, including Sanchez, had their eyes wide open in shock at the sight.