The Extra's Rise-Chapter 793: Demon Duke (1)

The tribunal chamber had been transformed into a crater of twisted metal and shattered stone, its once-magnificent architecture reduced to rubble by forces that operated beyond normal human comprehension. Demon Duke Vorthak stood at the center of the destruction like a monument to controlled violence, his pale features arranged in an expression of mild disappointment as he studied his two opponents.

"Is this truly the best humanity can offer?" Vorthak asked with the kind of bored contempt that made the air itself recoil from his presence. "Two Radiant-rankers, and yet I find myself... underwhelmed."

Quinn Slatemark wiped dark blood from his mouth, his imperial composure cracking under the strain of facing an opponent whose capabilities defied every assumption about what should be possible at their shared rank. His mana reserves, vast though they were, had been steadily depleted by the necessity of maintaining defensive barriers against attacks that could level city blocks.

"Your arrogance will be your downfall, demon," Quinn replied with royal authority that couldn’t quite mask the exhaustion bleeding through his voice. "We’ve barely begun to show you what human determination can accomplish."

But even as he spoke the words, Quinn’s tactical mind was analyzing their situation with growing despair. Twenty minutes of combat had demonstrated conclusively that Vorthak possessed advantages that mere rank comparison couldn’t explain. The demon’s swordsmanship operated according to principles that transcended normal technique, while his magical capabilities seemed to draw from sources that violated fundamental laws of energy conservation.

Leopold Astoria stood beside the Emperor with aristocratic dignity intact despite the numerous wounds marking his formal attire. His longsword gleamed with astral energy that spoke to Sword Unity—the legendary state where weapon and wielder became extensions of each other’s will. Yet even that sublime achievement felt inadequate against an opponent who moved as if reality itself bent to accommodate his desires.

"Leopold," Quinn said quietly, his voice carrying undertones that referenced decades of shared history, "your assessment?"

The Archduke’s gray eyes studied Vorthak with the analytical precision that had made him one of the Empire’s most effective military commanders. "He’s playing with us," Leopold replied with bitter honesty. "Every exchange has been calculated to test our capabilities rather than end the fight efficiently."

Vorthak’s smile widened with obvious pleasure at their accurate evaluation. "Perceptive. I had hoped human Radiant-rankers would provide more entertainment than your lesser ranks, but thus far you’ve proven disappointingly predictable." freēwēbηovel.c૦m

The demon raised his sword—a blade that seemed to exist in the spaces between reality, its edge cutting through dimensions as much as physical matter. Dark energy coiled around the weapon like living shadow, while his Pride Clan Gift manifested as an aura of absolute superiority that made challenging him feel like an act of cosmic hubris.

"Shall we escalate?" Vorthak asked with genuine curiosity. "I’m curious to see what desperation might accomplish where confidence has failed."

Quinn’s response came as a torrent of nine-circle magic enhanced by his Mage’s Flow Gift. Fire, lightning, and wind combined in patterns that could reshape landscapes, each spell precisely calibrated to exploit different aspects of Vorthak’s defensive positioning. The magical assault illuminated the ruined chamber with brilliant displays of elemental fury while reality itself groaned under the pressure of competing forces.

Vorthak’s counter was contemptuous in its efficiency. His sword carved through Quinn’s spells like they were constructed from wishful thinking rather than properly anchored magical energy, while miasma erupted from his position to corrupt and devour the remaining elemental constructs. Where Quinn’s magic sought to impose human will upon reality, Vorthak’s techniques simply denied that will any relevance.

"My turn," the demon said with anticipatory pleasure.

He moved with speed that made his previous displays look leisurely, his blade trailing dimensional tears that threatened to slice through more than mere flesh and bone. Leopold intercepted the attack with Sword Unity techniques that should have been impossible to predict or counter, but Vorthak’s superior swordsmanship made even perfect defensive positioning feel inadequate.

The collision between their blades sent shockwaves through multiple planes of existence while the sound of ringing steel echoed with harmonics that spoke to conflicts between fundamental forces. Leopold’s longsword held for exactly three exchanges before spider-web cracks began appearing along its perfectly forged edge.

"Sword Unity," Vorthak observed with genuine interest as he pressed his attack. "I haven’t encountered that achievement in several centuries. Impressive for a human, though ultimately insufficient against true mastery."

Leopold’s response was a flowing combination of cuts and thrusts that demonstrated why he was considered one of the finest swordsmen in human history. Each movement flowed into the next with mathematical precision, creating openings while simultaneously covering defensive angles in patterns that spoke to decades of refinement.

But Vorthak’s own swordsmanship operated on a level that transcended normal technique. His Pride Clan Gift manifested as absolute confidence in his superiority, making doubt or hesitation impossible while enhancing every aspect of his combat abilities. Combined with his secondary Gift that elevated his swordsmanship beyond mortal limitations, he moved like a force of nature given form and purpose.

"You fight well for cattle," Vorthak commented while deflecting Leopold’s assault with lazy efficiency. "But your techniques lack the essential understanding that separates predator from prey."

Quinn attempted to provide support with coordinated spell-casting that would force Vorthak to divide his attention, but the demon’s spatial awareness allowed him to counter magical attacks while maintaining pressure on Leopold’s increasingly desperate defensive positions.

’We’re losing,’ Quinn realized with crystalline clarity that cut through his imperial pride like a blade through silk. ’Every exchange weakens us while he remains essentially unaffected. At this rate, we’ll be defeated through simple attrition.’

The thought triggered memories that Quinn had been trying to suppress since Leopold had first demonstrated Radiant-rank capabilities twenty years earlier. The Astoria Archdukedom controlled vast territories and commanded resources that rivaled the imperial treasury itself. Leopold’s personal power, combined with his political influence, had always represented a potential threat to imperial authority.

For two decades, Quinn had watched Leopold carefully, searching for signs of disloyalty or independence movements that might challenge the Slatemark dynasty’s supremacy. Every display of the Archduke’s capabilities had been analyzed for evidence of treasonous ambition, every political decision scrutinized for hints of separatist thinking.

’I was wrong,’ Quinn admitted to himself as he watched Leopold fight with desperate courage against an opponent who could kill them both without meaningful effort. ’All these years of suspicion and political calculation, and I never understood that his loyalty was absolute regardless of his power.’

Leopold’s longsword finally shattered under Vorthak’s relentless assault, the consecrated steel unable to withstand forces that operated beyond the physical plane. But even disarmed, the Archduke continued fighting with astral energy constructs that demonstrated his refusal to yield despite overwhelming odds.

"Admirable spirit," Vorthak said with something approaching respect, "but ultimately pointless. Shall I end this quickly, or would you prefer to continue this charade?"

Quinn launched another coordinated magical assault, pouring vast amounts of mana into spells designed to buy Leopold time to recover. But his attacks met the same contemptuous resistance that had characterized the entire battle, while his energy reserves approached dangerous depletion levels.

"Quinn," Leopold said quietly, his voice carrying a note of resigned determination that sent chills down the Emperor’s spine. "I have an idea. But you’re not going to like it."

The Archduke’s gray eyes held the kind of resolved certainty that Quinn recognized from their childhood, when Leopold had always been willing to take desperate chances that more cautious minds would reject. It was the same expression he had worn when volunteering for the most dangerous missions during their military campaigns, the same look that preceded decisions that saved thousands of lives at terrible personal cost.

"What kind of idea?" Quinn asked, though something in Leopold’s tone made him suspect he already knew the answer.

Leopold’s smile carried warmth that transcended their current desperate circumstances, reaching back to memories of two boys who had dreamed of protecting their empire from all threats.

"The kind that requires absolute trust between old friends," Leopold replied, his hand moving to the remnants of his shattered sword. "The kind where someone has to be willing to pay the ultimate price."

Vorthak’s laughter echoed through the ruined chamber like the sound of breaking glass. "How touching. But whatever pathetic strategy you’re contemplating will prove as futile as your previous efforts."

The demon raised his blade with predatory anticipation, dark energy coiling around the weapon in patterns that promised immediate annihilation for both Radiant-rankers.

"Last chance to surrender with dignity intact," Vorthak offered with mock generosity. "Otherwise, I’ll be forced to demonstrate why the Pride Clan’s reputation extends across multiple realms."

Leopold looked at Quinn with eyes that held two decades of unspoken understanding, then at the chamber where his daughter had recently sat during what should have been a routine legal proceeding.

"Quinn," he said softly, "I need you to trust me one more time. The way we used to trust each other when we were children who thought we could save the world."

The weight of absolute finality in Leopold’s voice made Quinn’s blood run cold as understanding finally dawned.

His oldest friend was preparing to die.

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