The Extra Prince Sets Out To Conquer The World

Thousands of jade-green sword strikes covered the sky.

Facing an attack that was not an exaggeration to call a torrential downpour of swords, Frost exhaled roughly once and heightened his senses.

More than half of those countless sword strikes were illusions created by magic.

He knew from experience that if he believed everything he saw, his stamina would not hold up.

He raised his transcendent instincts to the extreme rather than relying on his eyes and swung his sword.

The moment a brilliant, gold-like vivid yellow sword energy settled on the blade, Frost’s sword was brandished, leaving hundreds of afterimages.

Kwaaaaa-!!

Sword energy collided with sword energy, triggering a chain reaction of magical storms.

Many of the jade sword strikes were swept away and disappeared in the storm, but a few reached Frost without being erased.

However, Frost did not flinch at all and controlled his breathing, and the sword strikes passed right through his body.

“As expected of the Vice-Captain. You precisely parried only the sword strikes that had substance.”

The sword strikes disappeared like smoke, as if they had never attacked Frost.

Frost spoke softly to the green-haired man’s exclamation.

“I told you, I’m not the Vice-Captain, Aiomaier.”

“Yeah, you did say that. Wayben.”

Aiomaier smiled bitterly and looked around the barren land they were standing on.

“What a desolate landscape. We’ve done a terrible thing to the living beings residing here.”

This place was originally a lush forest where small animals lived.

But due to the battle between the two transcendents, all life had been reduced to dust.

If it weren’t for the barrier trapping them, the impact would have already reached the city.

“It’s been about three days since I started fighting you in this barrier, right?”

Wayben nodded to Aiomaier’s question.

“It was around then when you smelled that rotten bastard starting his ritual and returned to the city.”

Aiomaier laughed cheerfully at Wayben’s answer.

“Ahahaha! Well, he stinks so much that it vibrates. How foul must the smell be to be noticeable from so far away? Tell him to take a bath.”

In fact, it was not his ability that allowed him to detect the start of the ritual.

He had simply moved according to a prophecy he had heard about when the ritual would begin.

“Yes, I will certainly pass that along.”

Laughing and conversing like this made them feel as if they had returned to the past.

The two men thought this and made a bitter expression.

“Give way before it becomes irreversible, Wayben.”

“You know it’s already irreversible, Aiomaier. You must be aware that an enormous amount of life force needs to be prepared for a ritual of this scale.”

“Even so, I know there were no deaths from black magic in that city.”

Performing a massive black magic ritual required a tremendous amount of life force, but it was not a difficult quantity to obtain from a city with the population of a small territory.

Nevertheless, the fact that there were no deaths due to life force extraction meant that it had been collected little by little over a very long time.

“That’s…”

“Don’t tell me it was for the sake of secrecy. For those hasty black magicians, secrecy means completing the ritual and fleeing as quickly as possible.”

Black magic power touches the brain, causing various personality disorders.

For them, patience was an extremely difficult hardship.

The fact that they had prepared for the ritual for so long meant that Frost’s will was strongly reflected.

The Dawn Star Cult coveted his son, Vermilion, and Frost had the strength to sufficiently protect his son from their grasp.

Even if he didn’t protect him directly, it would not be difficult for him to join a group that could avoid the Dawn Star Cult’s reach with his skills and connections.

That’s why the black magicians of the Dawn Star Cult endured with deadly patience and waited for the right time.

“The stains on the soul cannot be erased. No matter how much I try to wash them, I am a villain who sacrificed innocent people to save my son.”

“From my perspective, your soul still remains white. Please!”

“I told you it’s too late!”

Frost raised his sword again, assuming a rider’s stance, and prepared to charge.

Seeing his old friend like that, Aiomaier gritted his teeth.

“Do you think Vermilion would truly want what you’re trying to do? Isn’t he the child who always said he would wield his sword for justice and wanted to become a knight like Frost Wayben?”

“He has to live! Only if he lives can he become such a knight!”

“You call being toyed with by demons living? Wayben!”

“…If it’s my son, he will overcome it.”

At Frost’s answer, Aiomaier lamented and readied his sword.

“Then I will stop you even if I have to kill you.”

“Yes, that’s the captain I respected and followed.”

The two transcendents swung their swords at each other once again.

********

Seeing the black magicians of the Dawn Star Cult running towards us by leaping over buildings, Vermilion asked.

“What do you mean my father summoned those guys?”

The murderous eyes slowly turning towards me were quite terrifying.

Indeed, it was a killing intent befitting the future Sword Demon, the worst villain of this century.

Did he take it as an insult to his father?

I raised my hand to stop Precia, who was on guard against Vermilion, and answered.

“What I mean is exactly as I said. There’s only one way to treat Putrid Meridian Syndrome at this point.”

“…And what’s that?”

“A black magician who has made a direct contract with a high-ranking demon performs a body modification ritual.”

There are largely two types of contracts with demons.

A temporary contract where a price is paid to temporarily employ a demon, and a direct contract where the soul is mortgaged to the demon in exchange for power.

If you want to be precise, there are many types such as thrall contracts and possession contracts, but they are all subcategories of temporary and direct contracts.

“And not just a simple body modification, but a ritual that turns you into a ‘Demonic Body’, which black magicians and dark knights consider a dream come true. Only those with Severed or Putrid Meridian Syndrome can become Demonic Bodies.”

If a Demonic Body becomes a knight, they can become the legendary ‘Hell Knight’, and if they become a magician, they can become a ‘Hell Sorcerer’.

To be precise, those suffering from Severed or Putrid Meridian Syndrome possess an innate talent for manipulating magical power.

The ritual that enveloped this city was magic that specialized that talent for handling black magic power and fixed the state of the body.

No wonder Vermilion looked a bit youthful and ordinary now, it must have been because of the Demonic Body ritual.

“Then… I can live?”

I smiled at his question.

“You can live. If you can call that living, that is.”

In the novel, the Hell Sorcerer was a being that was a half subordinate to the 1st Apostle of the Dawn Star Cult.

Recalling how the 1st Apostle was particularly meticulous in handling the Hell Sorcerer, it seemed that Vermilion, who had become a Hell Knight, had broken free from subordination and escaped on his own.

No wonder the Sword Demon Vermilion was strong.

“Creating a Demonic Body is a ritual that consumes an exceptionally large number of sacrifices, even among black magic rituals.”

At my words, Vermilion’s expression hardened.

“Putrid Meridian Syndrome cannot be cured without the ritual. So? Do you still want to live?”

Severed Meridians can be reconnected to survive, but there is no way to stop the putrification in Putrid Meridian no matter what.

Even the Demonic Body ritual could only prevent further putrification, not reverse what had already rotted.

The reason Frost had been so particular about Vermilion’s movements must have been to prevent further putrification until his body was fixed.

While I was explaining, the burning trash of the Dawn Star Cult arrived in front of us.

“Lord Vermilion, and… your friends.”

The elderly black magician with gray beard standing at the center of the burning trash called out to us.

The slight pause before calling us friends didn’t seem like something pleasant to hear.

Judging by the number of stars embroidered on their robes, there were three mid-rank believers and fourteen low-rank believers.

“We are here to escort Lord Vermilion. Lord Frost is waiting, so let us go together.”

I snorted at his words.

“Ha! Your lies are clumsy. Third-rate.”

“It’s not a lie…”

“If it was this friend’s father, he would have come directly without sending bugs like you on errands.”

Vermilion nodded in agreement with my statement.

“…Your words are harsh.”

“Harsh? I’m addressing you politely, you know? Calling the the likes of you who eat demon dung, bugs… the bugs would be so sad to hear that. I’m enduring that sadness and personally honoring you, so I’d like you to bow your head in gratitude.”

“Oh, quite the talker, aren’t you?”

Vermilion applauded my eloquence, and the burning trash gnashed their teeth.

“…Please come quietly, Lord Vermilion. If you do so now, we will not harm these… heretics.”

The way they addressed us changed from friends to heretics.

Of course, even that changed form of address was probably a euphemism.

“Tsk tsk tsk, telling obvious lies again. Don’t you know that those who use what’s above their neck as a crude accessory instead of for thinking will get caught quickly?”

At my sneer, one of the ill-tempered low-ranking burning trash shouted.

“Shut that mouth! I’m holding back from tearing you apart right now!”

The elderly black magician, who at least knew what self-control was, stopped him with his magic staff when he tried to rush at me right away.

“We do not wish for Lord Vermilion to be harmed. Please make a wise choice.”

The reason they were groveling so much to Vermilion was because they had no doubt he would become one of their higher-ups.

If Vermilion underwent the Demonic Body ritual, he would immediately become an ‘Apostle’, the highest position in the Dawn Star Cult.

To the elderly black magician’s suggestion, Vermilion drew his sword as if it wasn’t even worth considering.

“I refuse. I have no intention of associating with the likes of you.”

At Vermilion’s firm refusal, the elderly black magician made a sorrowful expression.

“I didn’t want to treat such a magnificent seed roughly, but you brought this upon yourself.”

With those words, the burning trash drew their swords and magic staffs.

“Do not inflict a single wound on Lord Vermilion! You may kill the other filthy bastards!”

At the shout of the leader, the elderly black magician, the burning trash simultaneously charged.

Snap!

Until I snapped my fingers, that is.

“Kuhak!”

“KuReuk!”

“Kkeureureureu!”

As I snapped my fingers, the burning trash collapsed on the ground, vomiting blood foam.

“Keuheueu!”

The elderly black magician, their leader, was no exception as he fell, spitting blood foam.

My companions looked at me in surprise.

“My, my, no matter how harmless I may have seemed, this is too careless of you.”

What I did was simple. Using Rami’s power, I turned the moisture in the lungs and stomachs of the burning trash into steam, making it explode.

In other words, I just increased the volume beyond its expansion limit and ruptured them.

“H-how, keu-keu…”

Perhaps he wasn’t just old for show, unlike the others, the elderly black magician resisted like a leader.

He understood what had happened to him and was shocked.

That was understandable, as it was nearly impossible to use magic inside the body of another person, especially one who had trained their magical power.

However, it was only nearly impossible, not completely impossible.

If two preconditions were met, the other party’s magic resistance could be ignored.

One was to have an overwhelmingly higher magic density than the opponent.

Thanks to inheriting Aquila’s magic circuits, my magic density was high enough to interfere with Sage Geor’s final magic.

The other was to have an overwhelmingly superior computational ability to break through the opponent’s resistance.

Actually, I used a shortcut for this.

Even if it wasn’t my computational ability, weren’t there beings called spirits that controlled the corresponding element more naturally than breathing?

“Now that you’re dying, what are you going to do after realizing it?”

Instead, I kindly gifted eternal rest by feeding a bullet into the heads of each burning trash that hadn’t instantly died.

And for the sake of the environment, I incinerated the trash using Biam’s power instead of littering, and asked Vermilion.

“So, what’s your answer to my question of whether you want to live?”