Starting My New Life as a Demon Kid

Ch. 62



Chapter 62. Mausoleum of the Moon’s Shadow (4)

Darkness fell over the Elves’ sanctuary. With the seed—their sun—gone, the underground was swallowed once more by shadow.

The only light came from crimson eyes flashing in the air, and jade glows fixed on the ground.

The two gazes locked onto one another.

The red eyes seemed almost relaxed, but the green ones were not.

A black shadow hung over the once-pure jade.

Kieeeeeeeeeek───!!!!

Every Elf on the ground let out a chilling scream.

They were grief-stricken, hollow. The despair was unbearable. The loss was so crushing it made their bodies shudder.

The World Tree’s seed had been their only hope. Had it sprouted and become a new World Tree, they could have reclaimed their former glory.

Children born untainted by the moon’s curse would have been raised, and they would have carried out vengeance against the moon.

For that day alone, they had endured for five hundred years.

All that patience was rendered meaningless in an instant.

Their sole hope had been buried under the moon’s shadow.

Swallowed by a human’s mouth.

A human—again.

Despair turned into rage.

An unspeakable fury welled up inside them.

The Elves, maddened, wailed and screamed. Their splitting cries rang through the sanctuary.

Hundreds of fiends began racing down the roots of the World Tree, aiming for Mapheltan and Raguel above.

Kieeeeeeeeeek────!

Their bodies broke apart. Withered legs failed under the force of their sprint, crumbling as they ran.

But the Elves did not stop. Even if their bodies shattered to pieces, their rampage continued.

The fragments of their collapsing bodies turned to ashen dust and scattered.

Piercing through the drifting gray haze, some leapt upward.

Murderous gazes and sharp claws reached for Mapheltan.

──Hand over the human!

──Rip open his gut and take Mother out!

Just before the claws could reach, Mapheltan soared higher into the air.

Several attackers fell away helplessly.

Even as they plummeted, they did not take their eyes off Raguel.

An unfathomable obsession was locked in their gaze.

Mapheltan clicked his tongue as he looked at Raguel.

‘Doesn’t look like he’s getting up.’

From this point on, he needed Raguel’s power.

Unfortunately, the boy was still unconscious.

Partly from shock at Mapheltan’s appearance, but the true reason was the backlash from absorbing the seed.

Digesting the World Tree’s seed would take considerable time.

It could take an entire day or more.

Until then, Mapheltan had to buy time.

He began condensing miasma in his hand. A massive spear shaft formed in his grip.

The Cursed Spear, Turabak—his only real physical weapon for now.

He swung Turabak without finesse—no refined stance, no special technique, just brute force.

Bbangagagak!

Several leaping Elves were struck by the shaft and sent flying, their bodies crashing into the World Tree’s roots.

Others climbing the roots were knocked down by the impact.

“I shall assist!”

Heat gathered in Zal’karin’s mouth as he spat flames. The tiny blaze—barely the size of a rat dropping—fell onto the swarm.

Nothing happened.

Still, hundreds and thousands of them continued to climb the roots.

Their screams echoed endlessly.

‘This will never end.’

Irritation mounting, a sharp tearing sound ripped through the air.

Mapheltan glanced down.

Countless black specks were rushing toward him.

‘Arrows!’

He flapped his wings sharply, moving out of the incoming volley in an instant.

The arrows pierced nothing but empty air.

‘I need to get out of this cave first.’

On the ground, Elves were already nocking their bows again.

From the roots of the World Tree, countless fiends still leapt toward Raguel.

Eventually, their attacks would connect.

He needed a larger space to maneuver.

Mapheltan turned his gaze toward the cave exit—The ground shook violently. The underground trembled as if it might collapse.

Below, the lush forest split open with a grinding crack.

From the fissures rose the sour stench of blood. Moments later, a massive, cylindrical hunk of flesh burst upward through the forest.

A land dragon—once a sacred beast that had made the Elves’ lands fertile.

Now, nothing but a corrupted monster.

It opened its enormous jaws, rising toward the air.

The stench and its roar engulfed the cavern.

Mapheltan’s lips curled into a smile.

His hearing and smell were nearly useless in the chaos, but he saw an opening.

He would use the worm.

He didn’t evade the oncoming bulk.

Instead, he set the cursed spear upright.

The monster’s jaws clamped down toward him, but failed to swallow him whole.

The long shaft wedged in its mouth, keeping it from closing.

Dark green blood spurted from its upper palate.

Foul ichor drenched Mapheltan.

The beast began to convulse in pain.

Its thrashing sent Elves flying.

It bellowed and twisted violently, desperate to swallow Mapheltan.

‘…I have to hold on.’

If it dragged him into its stomach, it was over.

He would be dissolved in its stomach acid.

Mapheltan gripped Turabak tightly.

Against his resistance, the land dragon changed tactics.

Throwing its weight forward, it smashed its head—and Mapheltan—into the cave wall.

Kwaaaang────!

Part of the stone wall collapsed.

The crushing shock made Mapheltan cough up black blood.

“Ku… huuhhk!”

But he didn’t let go of Turabak. He was already preparing his authority.

“…Wretched beast, take me outside the sanctuary.”

Black miasma rose around him.

His command began to twist into the ancient demonic tongue.

『 The wretch shall lead the Thirteenth End outside (Zul’mek thar’kai vel Thirzen’dal, kar’az vel uth'vakar). 』

Chunks of miasma tore away from his body. Weakness crashed over him.

He was reaching his physical limit.

‘Twice a day is too much.’

The use of an authority—verbal command—came with many restrictions.

One of them was the massive consumption of miasma.

Any apostle could use a verbal command, but not all could do so efficiently.

Issuing precise, detailed orders multiple times in a day required great skill.

Mapheltan’s level was still far below apostles like the Second Apostle, Ganis.

He swallowed a groan.

Would he need another method?

Then, the land dragon’s frenzy stopped.

‘…No way.’

Its body sagged, then suddenly shot in a direction—toward the cave’s exit.

‘Success!’

The command had worked.

The land dragon rammed its head into the exit.

The small opening widened in an instant under its massive bulk.

Rocks collapsed in torrents, debris slamming into Mapheltan.

He wrapped his wings tightly around Raguel.

His entire body was soaked in black blood, but it didn’t matter.

Right now, keeping Raguel safe was everything.

He stomped on the land dragon’s palate.

“Idiot! Watch where you’re going!”

It didn’t understand—only burrowed faster through the stone.

Mapheltan’s body was covered in wounds.

***

Kwaaaang──!

Boulders scattered in all directions. Through the shattered cliff, the massive beast forced its way out.

Mapheltan immediately yanked Turabak free from its jaws and spread his wings.

With the command ended, the monster would target him again.

He had to put as much distance as possible between them.

‘As high as I can go.’

He flew to the mausoleum’s ceiling, the ashen forest sprawling below in full view.

He could catch his breath for only a moment.

From the air, he glanced at Raguel.

The boy’s appearance had changed greatly.

His brown hair now shimmered with vibrant amber light; his once-dry skin now gleamed.

And most of all—his ears. Raguel’s ears now stood sharply pointed, like the Elves of long ago.

He was now an Elf—the only one of his kind in the world. A High Elf reborn.

Mapheltan let out a sigh.

“So when do you plan to wake up?”

Before they awoke, Raguel had to regain consciousness.

If the corrupted elders stirred from their long sleep, survival would be impossible.

They were nothing like the common Elves.

Each one was a champion of their race.

Most of the Elven elders had perished 500 years ago, but some had survived and lay buried here still.

Mapheltan had no power to face them.

‘Best not to meet them at all…’

But if they did cross paths, he would have to resort to his last measure.

He stared at Raguel.

“So hurry up and wake.”

Unfortunately, his earnest wish went unanswered.

His face suddenly twisted.

A chill seeped into his whole body. His miasma stirred at the scent of malice.

‘Already!’

He looked down to the ground.

In the withered forest, there was one being that held color.

It gazed upward at him, its darkness as deep—or deeper—than his own.

“Shit!”

Mapheltan immediately shot through the air.

That overwhelming presence had to be one of them.

His instincts screamed—do not face it, not even once.

He pushed his speed higher, determined to buy time somehow.

He held Raguel tight.

“You need to wake up. As fast as you can.”

His wings beat desperately.

He couldn’t hold out long.

***

His brain boiled. Each neuron convulsed.

Countless memories and information forced their way into his head.

A history trampled and ravaged passed before his eyes like a panorama.

Fire and iron defiled the green forest.

The earth screamed before greed and malice.

The fairies’ breath became choking smoke; the children of nature screamed instead of singing.

Beneath ominous moonlight, countless Elves groaned in human captivity.

Their cries echoed without end.

Tears streamed from Raguel’s eyes. Every scene stabbed into him.

He was merging with the Elves’ emotions.

He felt as if he would come to hate humans.

Even being human himself now felt shameful.

Hatred for the moon swelled inside him.

His sense of self began to warp.

He wanted to drain every drop of red blood from his body.

“O Great Saint! How could you be so cruel?!”

No answer came.

The panorama vanished in an instant.

Light slowly began to seep back into the world.

Leaves appeared before his eyes—not green, but ashen and withered.

His chest ached.

“Ku… ugh.”

Raguel clutched his heart and forced himself upright.

At that moment, a chilling voice reached him.

“…Raguel, you could’ve taken your time a bit more.”

A monstrous being came into view—leaning against a great tree, groaning.

Raguel’s green pupils shook.

“M-Mapheltan…?”

The demon gave a faint smile.

“Yes. First time seeing me like this, isn’t it?”

Mapheltan’s whole body was covered in wounds.

He was barely alive.

The fear that had lingered in Raguel’s chest vanished completely.

Worry took its place.

He rushed toward Mapheltan.

“Wh-what happened to you?!”

Mapheltan coughed.

“Took some trouble keeping you alive. Now it’s your turn. Show me the value of my investment, Raguel.”

Even at death’s door, the demon wore a faint, hazy smile.


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