The Game of a Legendary Genius Dark Mage-Chapter 339

The Marod Knights.

Officially known as a knight order directly under the Sword Saint of the Kingdom of Rieskan, they were infamous for their ruthless and savage nature.

Even within Rieskan, they didn’t have a good reputation.

But internally, no one really cared.

The entire order was composed of demons.

What did they care if someone pointed fingers?

So of course, they were thrilled about this deployment.

Their mission was to send corpses and blood to the Demon Realm—

But ultimately, it meant they got to go to war and massacre countless enemies.

They couldn’t have been happier.

However, their commander, Arba Zech—Baron of the Demon Realm—wasn’t particularly pleased.

“Hmph.”

A massacre?

Fine.

He loved battlefields drenched in blood and flesh.

But what concerned Arba more than carnage was the lack of a worthy opponent.

There was a mission, sure.

But as a demon, Arba craved thrilling combat far more than a simple objective.

He wanted someone who could truly match him in battle.

There was supposedly a mage who left behind that massive palm-shaped imprint a few days ago...

He thought maybe he’d find a worthy adversary.

But since this was a surprise attack, there was a chance they wouldn’t meet.

And that would be disappointing.

Still, orders were orders.

So he set out.

Unlike his excited subordinates, Arba wore a consistently sour expression.

And then—

A shrill wail tore through the sky, and a colossal skeletal hand reappeared above them.

The same hand of calamity that had appeared three days prior.

The Marod Knights, in the middle of slaughtering players, raised their heads in disbelief.

“A wraith...?”

“That many...?”

“This won’t be easy.”

Even demons who loved battle ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ couldn’t dismiss such overwhelming power.

They muttered coolly—

But not with despair.

On the contrary, some of them smiled, clearly intrigued.

Like madmen intoxicated by combat, they laughed wildly as they prepared for what was to come.

Watching them, the vice-commander, Nerk, called out to the commander.

“Ba— I mean, Commander Arba.”

Baron of the Demon Realm, Arba Zech.

Hearing Nerk, Arba’s lips curled into a smirk.

This... this was the battlefield he had been longing for.

His heart thumped with anticipation.

Unlike Karlgmir—whom Seong had defeated before and who had only recently become a baron—Arba had long since earned his title.

Naturally—

“I’ll handle this. You all take care of the rest.”

The moment he said that, the Marod Knights shifted their attention away from the spectral hand.

None of them dared defy the baron’s will—especially when he sounded so thrilled.

Arba, with a gleam of excitement in his eyes, reached for the spear slung across his back.

As he gripped it tightly,

Violet lightning began to crackle around him.

BZZZZT—!

“Get back!!!”

“Anyone caught in that will die!!!”

“Move!!!”

Just moments ago, the Marod Knights had been reveling in their slaughter.

Now, every last one of them scrambled to get away from Arba in a panic.

The knights and soldiers of the Kingdom of Rieskan retreated as well, eyes wide with terror.

All of them—without exception—moved to put distance between themselves and Arba, not the hand of calamity.

And then—

The lightning converged at a single point.

The violet current surged upward like a spear piercing the sky.

It looked like a dragon ascending toward the heavens with a glowing orb in its mouth.

And at the moment it collided with the hand of death, violet lightning and gray spectral energy exploded in the air.

BOOOOOOM—!!!

The shockwave ravaged the sky, followed by a delayed storm that slammed into the ground.

A wind stronger than a typhoon roared in every direction, and even the soldiers of Rieskan, Wiron, and the mercenary players were flung like rag dolls.

Only the Marod Knights, bracing themselves, watched the scene with clear eyes.

Amid the swirl of dissipating light, a single human figure descended gracefully from the sky, a spear wreathed in violet lightning in hand.

The demon knights clicked their tongues in amazement.

“Wow, when did he get promoted to Viscount?”

“He’s still a bit short of a Viscount’s class, but...”

“He is strong, though.”

They murmured in admiration—even among demons.

But Arba, falling through the air, scanned his surroundings.

As if looking for a lover.

But he didn’t feel any strong presence.

No energy on par with his own.

“Where are you?”

He shouted sharply, searching once more.

But there was nothing.

Still, that was fine.

If he couldn’t find them—

“I’ll just make them come out.”

Saying that, Arba began releasing demonic energy.

Of course, he made it appear as if it was leaking from his demonic weapon.

Even in his excitement, he wasn’t so reckless as to let down his guard.

Feigning the emission of demonic energy from his spear, his eyes gleamed.

Let’s see if you can ignore this.

With that thought, Arba began activating his skills.

[Due to the skill 『Willpower』, Baron Arba Zech’s demonic energy and physical capabilities are enhanced.]

[Due to the skill 『Distortion』, Baron Arba Zech’s unique abilities are amplified.]

[Due to the skill 『Torrent』, Baron Arba Zech’s demonic energy merges with his unique abilities.]

[Due to the skill 『Domain』, Baron Arba Zech’s rank is elevated.]

With all four skills activated,

Arba’s muscles twisted and transformed.

Initially swelling grotesquely, his muscles then compressed into sleek, combat-hardened forms.

And from his body, so much demonic energy erupted that the very air shimmered like a mirage.

Now near full power, Arba reversed his grip on the spear and muttered,

“Let’s see if you can just sit back and watch.”

Wearing a mischievous grin, Arba poured his energy into the spear.

CRACKLE—!!!

His demonic energy, enhanced by his unique abilities, surged outward in violet lightning.

It spiraled toward the spear, condensing into a single point—

Until the weapon itself gleamed like a divine artifact.

As violet lightning engulfed it, Arba’s eyes began to glow the same color.

And then—

Ffff...

He took a deep breath, twisted his body, and hurled the spear behind him in a reverse grip.

The violet spear—shining with brilliant light—roared like the thunderbolt of a war god, crashing down toward the earth.

A bolt of lightning the size of a mountain hurtled straight for Wiron, as if to obliterate the entire city.

The citizens of Wiron felt the same terror Badia had experienced when the hand of death had first appeared.

But this was different.

It wasn’t slow like the spectral hand.

The lightning was a blur—bright and fast—erasing everything in its path.

CRACKABOOMBOOMBOOM!!!

Just as Wiron teetered on the edge of annihilation—

A veil of darkness appeared before the city’s walls.

And behind it, a colossal gray specter pushed from behind like a shadow’s embrace.

With a roar of heat and violet flame, the wall of darkness met the violet lightning head-on.

The explosion that followed—

Violet lightning.

Violet flame.

Darkness.

Spectral gray.

All entangled and surged outward like the end of the world.

First came light—chaotic and colorful, like a nuclear blast.

Then came the darkness, swallowing all in its path.

Thousands—no, tens of thousands—of spectral forms split apart, wrapping the violet lightning and flame in layers of shadow.

The energy stopped expanding.

And then—

Everything within vanished.

Not even ashes remained.

RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE—

The fortress wall hadn’t collapsed.

It had disintegrated.

A massive hole now gaped in the city’s defenses.

Because the darkness had absorbed the blast, the destruction didn’t spread.

But those caught inside—

They were gone. No corpses. No remains.

If that blast had spread further?

Not just Wiron—Badia would’ve been obliterated too.

Realizing this, everyone broke into cold sweat.

But Arba, still descending from the sky, wore a satisfied expression.

As if to say, “There you are.”

He looked at the figure hovering in midair, just like him.

A player wearing a black crown made of obsidian, a black mask hiding his face, and a flowing black robe.

Someone shouted—

“T-that’s the Demon King!?”

“That spectral hand... was his skill!?”

“Are you kidding me!?”

“But what the hell is that Marod commander!?”

“Looks like a demonic lance wielder or something...”

“Jesus, this is insane.”

The players murmured in awe and fear—

But then snapped back to their senses.

“Let’s help!!!”

“Even if the Marod Knights are here, we outnumber them!!!”

“Players! Rise up!!!”

As they rallied, the players surged back into the battlefield.

The Marod Knights smirked at the sight and shouted back.

“Like moths to a flame!!!”

“We’ll rip you all apart!!!”

“It’s a slaughter party!!!”

They laughed maniacally.

But then—

A portal shimmered open, casting a turquoise light.

And Seong’s vassals emerged.

“Slaughter?”

“Hehehe, what an amusing little knight order of demons.”

“Hmm~ Let’s see you try.”

“I’ve been idle lately. Allow me to join the fray.”

–It won’t be easy.

–KUAHAHAHA!!! War! Sweet war!!!

–For our master!!!

–Whoa! There’s so many! Cutting them down won’t even make a dent.

–Mutter mutter mutter mutter.

–Lady Noya has given the order to clear the field!!!

–BIEEEEEEEEEE!!!

–KAAAAAAAEEEH!!!

With each one of them far from ordinary,

Even the previously overconfident Marod Knights found themselves gulping nervously.

And as the players witnessed Seong’s vassals appear, they shouted even louder—

“It’s the Demon King’s vassals!!!”

“They’re reinforcements!!!”

“Let’s join them!!!”

What greater allies could they ask for?

With Seong’s vassals on the field, morale soared sky-high, and the tide of battle began to shift.

And above it all, standing apart from the battle—

Two figures faced each other in the air.

Not two people.

One man.

One demon.

Arba, spinning his thunder-laced spear, loosening his muscles.

And Seong, drawing his sword in silence.

No words were exchanged.

They charged.

Arba’s spear became violet lightning, tearing through the sky.

Seong’s sword shrouded the heavens in darkness as the two forces collided.