The Greatest Demon Lord Is Reborn as a Typical Nobody - Volume 7 - Chapter 88

CHAPTER 88

The Raging Champion, Slaying for Love

—It was narrow.

The wide stone space felt cramped now; the pressure was unbearable. But she wasn’t going to cower.

She would charge ahead.

Forward. Forward. Forward.

This was the Sylphy Marheaven way.

Retreat was not in her vocabulary.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!”

Sylphy held Verda’s magic sword aloft as she rushed in. Her posture prioritized offensive maneuvers, completely tossing any defense to the wayside. It was a fighting method equal parts polished and wild.

“Argh!”

As soon as she got close enough, Sylphy swung her blade down. Any average soldier would be cowed by her energy and sliced down the middle before they could dodge.

Except her current foe was anything but typical.

Her opponent used only one arm. A single hand gripping a sword was enough to halt Sylphy’s attack. It was cool and collected.

An instant later, Sylphy ducked down…and felt the weapon graze her skin. The blade passed through where her head had just been.

The enemy moved at radical speeds—impossible to spot and even more impossible to dodge. Her successful maneuver proved that Sylphy’s battle instincts were nothing short of extraordinary.

“Nraaagh!”

Rising from her crouched position, she focused her power into her bare blade and sliced sideways. Her opponent was still in a thrust position, making it difficult to block her attack with a sword. They quickly kicked off the ground to retreat backward, and Sylphy sliced through air.

…We’re far but close, Sylphy thought of the distance between them.

Anyone else might think they were out of range, but Sylphy could close in on her enemy in a single step. In other words, she couldn’t afford to lose focus for even a second.

It’s a one-on-one fight, but I feel like I’m at war.

A tingling sense of nervousness. A fiery burst of enthusiasm. Any greenhorn soldier would vomit in this extremely uncomfortable situation, but it actually brought Sylphy comfort. Plus—

There was something strangely nostalgic about it.

It was her flawless instincts. Sylphy had been honing her intuition for as long as she could remember, and it revealed the enemy’s true form to her. The very next moment, she found herself calling out a certain name.

“…Big Sis Lydie?”

She shook her head as soon as the words left her mouth.

Ridiculous. It couldn’t be. There was no way. That person was dead. She had died thousands of years ago and left Sylphy all alone. They would never meet again.

She was sure of it, and yet…

“Ah, I guess the jig is up.”

A voice as lovely as a cool breeze. The enemy lifted their hood to expose their face.

And there she was. That face. There was no doubt in her mind anymore.

Silver hair that glowed through the dim space. A radiant, mature beauty. Graceful limbs.

Everything about her was…her.

The woman standing in front of her, the gorgeous elf…

“Sis…?!”

…It was Lydia Viigensgeight. The progenitor of all who held the title of Champion. Sylphy’s teacher, mother, and big sister—right there in the flesh.

“No… That’s impossible… You’re…”

Eyes wide and jaw slack with shock, Sylphy drew closer. Lydia’s presence grew with every step. Her whole body seemed to radiate vitality, eyes sparkled with energy, and her standing figure was majestic. This was Lydia. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes. This was the leader of bygone days, the person who Sylphy loved and respected.

“Sis…! Lydie…!”

It was true. This was really her.

“Sylphy.”

The voice calling her name had a familiar gentleness. A motherly smile appeared on her lips.

Oh, it’s Lydia.

The one who had taken Sylphy in when she had nowhere else to go. The soldier who she revered and adored. Her one and only family.

How much had she yearned for her? How badly had she wished to see her again? Emotions flooded her heart and brought tears to her eyes.

“Sis…!”

Sylphy realized she was racing forward like a child reunited with her long-lost mother. She kicked up dust, prepared to fly into Lydia’s arms, when—

“I knew it. You’re hopeless.”

Sylphy instinctively jumped back, and a hairbreadth later there was the flash of a bare steel. The sword passed right in front of her. If she’d reacted even a second slower, Lydia would have ended her life.

“S-Sis…?!” Sylphy couldn’t comprehend what had just happened and stared in disbelief at her big sister.

Lydia sighed and looked sorely disappointed. “I thought maybe you grew up while I was gone, but I was wrong. You’re still part of the teeny-tiny titty committee, huh? Just a brat,” Lydia said with another heavy sigh as she brushed her bangs aside with her right hand.

Sylphy was shocked to see her icy gaze.

“Wh-why…?” she asked, gaze darting around, seeking an answer.

Her disappointment apparently growing, Lydia scratched her head.

“Don’t play dumb. Remember where you are. This is enemy territory, and you’re up against that piece of shit—Mephisto. That should be enough to clue you in.”

One can’t help but run away when faced with an uncomfortable truth. Even a person as headstrong as Sylphy was no exception.

It had slipped her mind that she was here—that she was in this situation. She should have known better.

This was exactly why Sylphy ran away, fleeing from the reality before her.

Lydia looked down on her weakness.

“I’m your enemy, duh.”

Lydia’s expression lost every trace of affection and morphed into the face of a stern soldier determined to eliminate the enemy.

“Ha, ha-ha. What are you talkin’ about? Is this another one of your mean jokes? That’s going too far, even for you—”

“Prepare to die,” replied the flat voice.

Suddenly, Lydia was there before her—and attacked.

A diagonal strike, aimed at Sylphy’s right shoulder. She managed to dodge it with only the slightest razor-thin margin to spare. Sylphy launched herself off the ground, jerking her body back.

For the first time, she’d retreated—going against her policy of rushing headfirst into any situation.

“Why…?!”

A tuft of her crimson hair fell onto the ground. If she’d been even a bit slower, Sylphy would have been halved. Lydia’s sword didn’t show any confusion or hesitation.

Now Sylphy understood.

Lydia was seriously trying to kill her.

“Why’re you doing this…?! A-are you angry…?! B-but…you don’t have to take things this far…!”

Lydia hefted her long sword against her shoulder and sighed for a third time.

“Give it a rest, Sylphy. The situation won’t change whether you like it or not.”

Lydia didn’t spare her the cruel truth. As if addressing someone who wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, she explained slowly.

“You didn’t think that douche would stage a tearjerker for you, now did you? He only restored me and allowed us to reunite…to make you suffer, Sylphy,” Lydia said. Her voice grew monotone as she continued. It was like she was reading lines from a script. “I’m being manipulated right now. I have almost no free will. Even having this conversation is pushing it…”

“I-I’m sure you could—”

“No, there’s no point. I know because I’ve gone through this before. Resisting is meaningless in this state. You’ll never get your body back. Our only choice is to fight it out until one of us dies… Just like I did back then,” Lydia stated, recalling her own end.

Sylphy had heard about her death from Olivia. She said Lydia had gone up against Mephisto by herself…and failed miserably. He took control of her mind and body, used her to commit all worldly atrocities…then had her dear friend—Varvatos—slay her by his own hand.

…Heinous in his ways, Mephisto was trying to re-create that scenario. It would be a tragedy between parent and child this time. Lydia would die in the same exact way.

“N-no…! I won’t…! Sis…!” Sylphy cried out, eyes welling with tears. She could no longer bear to stand there as a soldier. She was a young, weak girl whose heart had been broken by an unforgiving fate. In that moment, it was the only way she knew how to respond.

“…Sigh. I knew it. You really can’t do anything without me. That’s why I thought of you in my final moments.”

Warmth returned to Lydia’s face, lips forming the soft smile of a mother gazing at her child.

“I have no complaints about my death. I thought it was a fitting end. But…I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have any lingering regrets. After all, my degenerate daughter ran off somewhere and never came back.”

Sylphy yelped as Lydia’s eyes bored into her.

Now that her big sister was being gentle again, she had started to relax. Sylphy spoke to Lydia like they were back in the old days. “I—I…I’m sorry…I worried you.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Apologize more, you little dumbass. Do you know how worried I was?”

Lydia must have been dying to ruffle her daughter’s hair. She raised her right hand to her chest…only to put it back down in apparent resignation. She maintained her doting smile.

“I wanted to see how great you’d become, Sylphy. That was my one and only regret. And so—”

Lydia closed her eyes and took a breath. She opened them and turned to Sylphy. They were the eyes of a ruthless soldier.

“This time, I’m not just being controlled. Sylphy, I’ll kill you. By my own will.”

Lydia came at her, radiating murder. The Champion was gunning for her with no hesitation.

“Eek…!” Sylphy’s throat spasmed, and she retreated once again.

“Quit backing off! You’re the Raging Champion, aren’t ya?!”

Lydia and her blade were closing in. It took everything in Sylphy just to keep away. Her body trembled in fear, hardly responding to any of her commands.

“Argh…!”

Lydia’s strikes were deadly—fluid, unerring, and precise. She attacked Sylphy, willed only by herself. The truth backed her into a corner.

“Why…?! Sis…!”

Why was she doing this? Why was she accepting Mephisto’s bonds instead of fighting them? Why would she kill her own sister?

“This is a lie…! It has to be…!”

Although Sylphy desperately wished this was only a nightmare…Lydia’s energy, presence, and lust for blood were undeniable. Sylphy had stayed by Lydia’s side and watched her every move, so she understood, however unfortunate…that this was all real. And so Sylphy could do nothing else except run.

“What are you doing?! Are you really the type to retreat when the enemy is in front of you?!”

Fight me.

Lydia was egging her on, but Sylphy faltered, attempting to flee. Finally, Lydia seemed to have had enough of this.

She stopped pursuing Sylphy and bellowed at her with a face flushed in anger.

“You were better on the day I picked you off the streets! You might have been weak as all hell, but at least you had the decency to point a damn sword at me!”

The words brought Sylphy back to the past.

Sylphy Marheaven. A war orphan who had neither a home nor family. Denied both parental love and the camaraderie of friends, she’d been tossed into the cruel world alone.

At first, I cried my eyes out. It was the only thing I could do. But I was hungry and told myself I couldn’t just spend my life in tears.

She’d been three years old at the time. She did whatever it took to survive—thievery, blackmail, arson, fraud, defamation… Initially, she was only following her survival instincts. However, as time went on, her reason for living became clear.

It was hatred. Everything Sylphy had learned from her years as a street urchin came from the darkest depths of society. No one showed her warmth. The world was always out to get her.

I hated everything I saw. I told myself I would break it. I vowed to destroy this world one day.

She never realized she was making a mistake. As someone who had only ever known darkness, she thought those grim desires were her savior.

Upon hitting rock bottom, Sylphy met a certain someone.

“What’s up?

“Aren’t you that infamous little snot wreaking havoc here?”

She’s beautiful.

Such was Sylphy’s first impression. She’d never seen anyone so radiant—blindingly so. Which was why she wordlessly attacked Lydia.

—And failed to land the blow. Miserably so. She was soundly beaten and knocked out.

It was so frustrating! Sylphy hadn’t accomplished a single thing or satisfied her hatred of this world…yet she felt peace in the terrifying concept of death.

I didn’t die, though. I came to my senses and saw her broad shoulders… And once I realized she was carrying me, I attacked her again.

It was futile. No amount of strangulation, biting, and stabbing could get through to the woman.

On the contrary, she broke into a big smile.

“You really are the rowdiest in town. You’ve got energy for days.

“Hey, brat. I’ll give you a place to stay.

“You can go wild there.

“It’s a perfect place for misfits like us.”

That was how Sylphy and Lydia had met.

“You were a rabid dog back then! You’d have it out for me even in your free time!”

Even after Lydia took her in, Sylphy had hated her. She despised the woman who was brighter than the sun.

I challenged her every day—and lost each time, face bashed in. But…she always gave me a pat on the head and a smile…

No one else was like her.

A young girl attempting to kill the person raising her. A guardian beating the shit out of her adopted daughter. It was a strange relationship, to say the least. Calling it decent was challenging.

But it had healed Sylphy’s heart.

I never felt malice in her punches. I never felt disgust in the hand that touched my hair. I could sense the warmth in the eyes that looked at me.

And that was why I realized about her…

At age seven, Sylphy Marheaven had finally discovered parental love. Coincidentally, it was the first time she’d felt a sense of pride.

Sis made me human.

She turned me—a starving dog, beaten and bloodied, a weak mutt crushed by the cruelty of the world—into a soldier.

That was why… That was exactly why…

Sylphy’s only choice was to run away. How could she possibly fight Lydia? Would she truly be able to cut her down? Why did she have to turn her sword on her savior?

“Haah… Haaaah… Haaaah… Ugh… Waaaah…”

The tears came unbidden. Her fate was too sad, too horrific. Sylphy could no longer keep up her image as a soldier and instead became a weak, innocent young girl more suited to her age.

Lydia was outraged by this vulnerable display. “Dammit! Pick up your sword and come at me already! You’re supposed to be my comrade! Remember your title! You’re Sylphy Marheaven! A Champion!!” She gripped her sword and barreled down on Sylphy.

Her expression was contorted with rage, but there was nothing to be afraid of. Who would fear the face of a parent so concerned for their child? Lydia was giving final words of wisdom to her precious daughter.

“No one else would scrunch up their face like a baby and run away! They’d have the guts to charge at me! Steel Fist would throw a knockout punch! Steadfast would shut up and send that ax swinging! Great Sage’s wand would work its magic! Wild Bull would charge at me with a smile! So would Tempest! And Black Wolf! And Firestorm! And Dazzle! Even Fearless, that pushover! None of them would chicken out like you! They’d all look at you now and groan! They’d ask how such a coward could ever be the Raging Champion!!”

…What made her so confident?

They all loved Lydia—just as much as Sylphy, maybe a little more.

Thus they would act in the same way as Sylphy—and obviously scamper away, helpless in this situation…

“We’re grown fighters! The Champion isn’t titular! We’re not your ordinary fighters! Everyone under me has been a real soldier!

“It’s how we overcome! Even when reality is hard! No matter the trial! We never back down!

“Even if it means killing me! They wouldn’t hold back…and they’d kill me with a teary smile!

“They’d tell me to leave it to them! To rest easy! Those are my comrades! Those are real soldiers!

“And then—there’s you, Sylphy!! How long are you gonna stay worrying me?! Everyone else was a success story! But you! You’re the only one I still need to look after! When—when will you just give me a damn break?!” Lydia shouted. Grief poured from her soul and shook Sylphy’s heart.

—Ah, I see now. Sis is right. I messed up.

Everyone else loved her with all their hearts, which is why they could have killed her. They’d know it was the only way to return her love and set her mind at ease…!

Why did Lydia take them in? Why did she continue to lead by example? To fulfill a dream? To make sure everything went her own way?

…No, that wasn’t it. Not even close. Lydia never once said to follow her. In fact, whenever she did part ways with one of her own kids, she’d always give them a big smile.

“You’re an excellent soldier now,” she’d say. “You can go anywhere. Live proudly. And…be as happy as you can.”

…Yes, Lydia always wished for her comrades’ well-being. It was all she ever wanted. She was everyone’s leader, teacher, friend, big sister…mother. There was only one answer to her love.

I’ll prove I’ve become a true soldier. I’ll prove I’m a worthy Champion.

I can only repay her…by putting her mind at ease…!

Sylphy gritted her teeth and clenched her sword. She sniffled back tears and looked ahead.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!”

Then she charged. Forward. Flying toward the enemy.

Toward her beloved big sister.

“Aaaaaaaargh!!” She attacked, swinging with all her might. It was determination in its purest form.

“Hah! Looks like you finally get it! You never were the brightest candle!”

A smile. Lydia was smiling. At long last, she was grinning with relief.

But it wasn’t enough. Sylphy hadn’t proven anything yet, after all.

“I’m the Raging Champion! It’s my job to carry on the will of my big sister and our comrades! I’ll show you!!”

She attacked—again and again and again and again and again and again. Never going on defense. Never thinking about what was ahead. Moving ever forward.

No retreating. Just looking in front of her.

That was the Raging Champion. It was Sylphy’s ideal. And…it was the image of the hero she always admired.

“I’m all grown up, Champion Lydia!”

“Prove it, Raging Sylphy!”

She couldn’t be a child forever. She couldn’t fall into complacency and always expect others to take care of her. And so now—

It was time to leave the nest.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!”

“Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!!!”

Neither took a single step back. They went at each other full force, and—their blades clashed. The resulting force knocked both combatants backward.

“Haaaaah…”

Each took a breath, composed themselves, and readied their sword.

Sylphy and Lydia stood at the ready and stared down their foe like a mirror image. Silence fell. This next bout was likely to be their last. One would live, and the other would die. Whatever the outcome, they’d have no regrets.

“…I like the look in your eye, Sylphy. You ain’t pissed at that little shit for forcing us into this. That face says you’ve accepted your reality. You’re focusing on survival,” Lydia said, readying her sword with a grin. “I’ll share one last thing. Whatever happens, don’t let anger consume you. This is my own fault. And that’s why…I caused my friend so much pain.”

As if recalling the tragic past, Lydia sounded sad when she said, “Don’t be like me.”

Sylphy stared into her opponent’s eyes and nodded. “I won’t, Sis. After all…I’m going to surpass you.”

This seemed to be the best answer Sylphy could have given.

Lydia flashed her the biggest grin yet. “—Shall we?”

A biting air enveloped Lydia. Sylphy was ready to fight. They concentrated and honed their senses.

Their bodies and minds slackened. Then—

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!”

“Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!!!”

Their energy erupted as they kicked off the ground with extraordinary might. The floor cracked as they raced for each other. Their swords were within striking distance in a millisecond. The killing blow was a heartbeat away. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly.

Both had made their move and drawn simultaneously. All of creation gently swayed. Meanwhile, Sylphy recalled a memory of the past.

“Agh, geez! I lost again!”

From bygone days.

It was one of the thousands of mock battles against Lydia. Sylphy pounded the ground as she crawled along the bare earth. Staring down at her, Lydia hefted a wooden sword on her shoulder and smirked.

“We’re similar fighters. We act on intuition. Our bodies react to our senses before logic has a chance to get a word in— And, Sylphy, there’s no question you’ve got more intuition than me. You just lack the experience.”

“Experience?”

“Yeah. It only comes from time spent on the battlefield… Muscle memory, you know… You look confused. Well, you just haven’t figured it out yet. But I know you will someday.”

Her sigh was weary and her smile hopeful. She patted Sylphy on the head as the girl still flopped on the ground.

“When that time comes, I guess I won’t be able to treat you like a brat anymore.”

—Sylphy had been clueless at the time. Lydia’s words hadn’t made a lick of sense.

However, she’d worked hard to advance in one way or another—overcoming carnage, growing as a person. For the sake of Lydia and the others, she’d spent years locked away in a dungeon maze in search of greater strength.

And now…here in this modern era, she had met new friends who had showed her heights that she could have never imagined.

I see it now. The arc of Lydia’s blade. Her target.

It’s all crystal clear.

Here. I’ll strike from the side and clash with her blade. Then, as soon as she stops moving, I’ll feint.

She fell for it. Dodge, then…

  I’ll kill her.

Sure enough, a diagonal flash decided everything.

“Heh-heh… Ya got me…”

Lydia had been sliced from her right shoulder to her left hip. She gave a satisfied smile as bright blood splattered from her lips. Then…

“This is it,” she said in a heartbreaking yet tender tone. Lydia softly brushed Sylphy’s face.

Then…she pointed to the exit behind her.

“Well, get going.”

“…Right.” Sylphy nodded and turned her back on Lydia. Her fists trembled, and her lips quivered against her will.

—She wanted to cry. She wanted to break down right there. Choking back a whimper, Sylphy smiled. She forced her trembling mouth to twist into a grin as she said her last words to her big sister behind her.

“Don’t worry, Sis. I can walk on my own now.”

She took a step forward and never looked back, even as she heard the thud of Lydia collapsing behind her.

She never broke stride.

“That’s enough for me… Grow up strong, Sylphy…more than me…more than anyone…”

Lydia’s presence and soul grew distant, but Sylphy didn’t turn around. After all, she was a grown soldier now. Not a child who made Lydia worry.

“………”

She remained silent and continued to smile. Not a single tear fell. Then—

Sylphy Marheaven overcame the death of a beloved person and pressed onward.