MistyTL
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Chapter 57: I Became a Swordsman in the Middle Ages
🕑 Added 2025-05-16 06:06:21 +0000 UTCDemon King's Army Subjugation (2)
‘An intriguing human.’
Cain gazed at Cecilia with a tinge of nostalgia as she boldly visited his castle.
No human—no, not even the current Demon King—would dare act like this toward him.
Wasn't this amusing? For someone who had lived through countless repetitive days, this was a rare jolt of stimulation.
“Very well. What is it you wish to say to me?”
“To revisit the conversation we had last time.”
“I answered everything. And so did you. Was that not enough?”
“There are still questions left unanswered.”
Cain nodded. At least he was willing to listen.
Cecilia spoke with her usual emotionless face.
“Why are you still staying at the rank of Demon Duke?”
“Hmph.”
‘The current Demon King must be troublesome for the humans. Are they trying to cause inner conflict to buy time?’
But upon seeing Cecilia’s demeanor, Cain quickly lost interest.
“Did you come to clean up the chaos? If so, go back. None of what’s happening in the Demon Realm right now has anything to do with me.”
His words were hollow.
The fleeting curiosity he had shown earlier was now entirely gone.
Cecilia glanced at him briefly, then clasped her hands behind her back and leisurely walked around the throne room.
“What an old castle.”
“It is ancient, yes.”
That was putting it nicely. For a Demon Duke’s castle, it was utterly unfit.
Demons loved to flaunt. Be it their strength, their wealth, or any form of power.
In Another World, all the high-ranking demons she had seen lived in blindingly gaudy castles. Back in those days, when she was low on gold, Cecilia would sometimes sneak in with a pickaxe and chip away at the Demon King’s bricks to sell.
But Cain’s castle? Not even worth stealing from. The traps she encountered on the way in were too old to function properly, and the walls were cracked and crumbling from neglect.
“But I’m sure it shone brilliantly once, didn’t it?”
Still, Cecilia could see it. From what she’d observed on the way in, the entire structure of the castle was designed with practicality in mind—for defending against ‘intruders’.
The structures now dim and lifeless must have once sparkled with grandeur.
In short, this dilapidated castle was proof of something else:
That Cain had, once upon a time, poured his heart and soul into building a fortress that could withstand anything.
“There was such a time.”
Cain didn’t deny it. But neither did he feel any further need to continue this conversation with Cecilia.
“The last time we met, I too was an uninvited guest. And now, so are you. I won’t hold you accountable.”
He was essentially saying: leave now, and I’ll let you live.
But Cecilia didn’t even look at him.
“Don’t you find it all boring and dull?”
“……”
Cain tilted his head slightly.
Not because of the words she said.
But because of where she was heading.
To the blade embedded in the floor just before the entrance to the throne room—a sword that had long since lost its light.
“Don’t you find yourself wondering, from time to time, if the world itself has stopped? And when that happens, haven’t you started peeking into the flow of others’ time… just to make sure yours is still moving?”
Cecilia was now quite far away.
But her voice echoed in Cain’s ears as if she had spoken right beside him.
‘The Blessing of Wind. What a waste of potential.’
Cain gave a brief, quiet impression.
Normally, he would not have allowed the conversation to go on any longer.
There was no need to.
And yet, for some reason, Cain didn’t stop her.
Why?
Perhaps it wasn’t the most proper reason, but… he found himself intrigued by this human who had come this far by abnormal means.
Whatever the case may be, one thing was clear: Cain was enjoying this conversation more than he expected.
Cecilia stood before the sword and murmured softly.
“You must have had that time too. When you adorned this castle with a fluttering heart, waiting for the hero to arrive…”
She reached out and gently wrapped her right hand around the sword embedded deep into the floor.
Cain’s pupils—until now dull and indifferent—widened significantly.
He even stood up from his throne with a blank expression.
“But no matter how much time passed, the hero never came. Even the strongest humans eventually faded away, their short lives burning out.”
Cecilia casually lifted the sword and inspected it with a cheerful smile.
It was old, but a fine sword.
“Become the Demon King. If you do, you’ll soon meet them—those who might kill you: the Hero’s Party.”
For just a brief moment, a spark of life returned to the once-empty gaze of Cain’s crimson eyes.
He sat back down and let out a faint chuckle.
“And what do you gain from this?”
Cecilia responded quickly, a flicker of intensity in her voice.
“At least one year. I want temporary peace.”
“One year? And how will you form a Hero’s Party in such a short time?”
“That’s a secret. When the time comes, we’ll be fighting to kill each other. I can’t give such vital information to a clear enemy.”
Cecilia walked back toward Cain and held the sword out to him.
“It’s a nice ornament, but wouldn’t it be better displayed somewhere more fitting?”
Cain stared silently at the sword she held.
A sword once gripped by a human who made it this far but ultimately collapsed before stepping into the throne room.
— Someday, a hero will surely reach you. I may fall here, but the will of humanity to destroy the demon will not perish.
A brief memory—yet one filled with immeasurable time—flashed through Cain’s mind in an instant.
“Take that as a gift for this truce. I’ve heard humans have such customs. It’s a good sword. Remove the rust, and it’ll be useful again.”
It was as good as accepting Cecilia’s proposal.
Cecilia was genuinely pleased. And the sword was even good enough to add to her “Cecilia Collection”!
‘This is what a Demon King should be like—magnanimous.’
A proper Demon King had to have swagger, and in that respect, Cain suited her taste perfectly.
“However, I must tell you one thing.”
“Yes?”
“The reason I haven’t become Demon King isn’t because I chose not to. It’s because I can’t.”
“But you have enough strength, don’t you?”
“If strength alone were enough to become the Demon King, the Demon Realm would be at war every single day.”
Cain spoke with a face full of curiosity.
“High-ranking demons like me are bound by a restriction.”
Cecilia blinked.
“It’s a curse that prevents us from killing the Demon King.”
‘So that’s why…’
That was something even Cecilia hadn’t known.
“Which means, for what you want to work, you’ll have to kill the Demon King with your own hands. Think you can manage that?”
“Then let’s make it official. I’ll accept that condition as our contract.”
Without hesitation, Cecilia slashed her wrist and held it out.
Cain let out a short laugh at her boldness, then extended his own hand.
A complex sigil engraved on the back of Cain’s hand began to glow a deep red.
A vast magic circle spread out between them.
A contract with a demon.
This was her second time making one.
But this time, she wouldn’t break it.
Because neither Cecilia nor Cain had any intention of backing out.
***
With a clear conscience, Cecilia returned to the expedition camp.
She and Cain had reached an agreement on when the Demon King would be killed.
Until that moment arrived, Cecilia’s task was simple.
‘I need to plan a medieval WWE event.’
A staged battle to stall for time.
The important part was that no suspicions could be raised—everything had to look authentic.
Cecilia immediately summoned the knights.
“Could you go scout this area? Don’t overextend. Stay hidden.”
Three knights nodded and headed out.
“Everyone else, stand by until they return.”
With the standby order in place, Cecilia hunkered down at the camp.
‘I must not make any achievements! I need to drag this out as quietly and non-suspiciously as possible!’
Just get through this stretch.
Then she could meet the newbies as the beautiful, undefeated Sword Princess…!
Just as Cecilia burned with quiet determination—
The three scouting knights dutifully carried out Cecilia’s order (?).
“There’s a cluster of demons over there. What should we do?”
Riharten asked nervously, and the recon leader, Rahel, responded plainly:
“Annihilate them.”
“But the order was…”
“Why not kill them when we easily can?”
‘As expected, senior knights really do think differently… Then I’ll follow protocol and erase my presence as best I—'
But Rahel was already far ahead.
“A human?”
“Alone?”
“I have a wife and a girlfriend.”
“Adultery? What a sinful human.”
Rahel calmly channeled Sword Aura into his blade and grinned wickedly.
“Exactly. So I’m gonna kill you all and find salvation.”
Riharten watched blankly as Rahel moved.
It took less than 10 minutes to kill over 50 monsters and 2 demons.
“Is… is this normal?”
“Yeah, that’s about average for our order. Hey Rahel! I’m taking the next group. I’ll finish them 3 minutes faster than you.”
“Ha! With that dull spear of yours?”
“Wanna bet? Loser buys drinks after we get back.”
“You’re on.”
That day, the recon unit returned after wiping out 48 demon squads.
***
"…Well done. Wiping out 48 squads… That's impressive."
‘I told them to scout only… what the hell with these people?’
Cecilia, sweating bullets, looked at the scouting party beaming with pride.
"It was nothing."
Rahel shrugged, while Cecilia's internal world collapsed.
‘That was supposed to last a whole week!’
Her plan had been simple:
— Too weak? Might be a trap? Hmm, let’s proceed cautiously. Let’s match our timing just right.
She intended to carefully test the waters and hit her target at the right moment.
But now that plan had gone up in smoke.
‘Okay… it’s fine… it’s fine. I just have to start giving them the most time-consuming, annoying assignments possible. Stall mode: full throttle.’
Forcing herself to stay calm, Cecilia issued a flurry of complex commands.
"Rahel, take 8 knights and head deeper into the route you just scouted. Proceed left along these sectors—B, C, D, E. Stop at D only. I forbid you from engaging at E."
"Herald, you’re heading to Point A. Take 7 and wipe it out."
"Philaion, once Rahel gets to D, enemy forces from E will likely spill over. Use that opportunity to capture a mid-ranking demon alive from Point E."
All the targets were carefully chosen minor outposts with only small fries, intended to avoid heavy combat.
But then—
"Point A cleared."
"B, C, D done."
"Got the mid-ranking demon. But this guy’s really tight-lipped?"
The Windsor Knights executed every order flawlessly.
It had barely been 4 days.
‘Why are they so damn competent!? This is not normal! Sure, these aren’t core troops, but why is the Demon King’s Army so weak?!’
Yet there was one crucial thing Cecilia hadn’t realized herself.
She liked every single member of the Windsor Order.
From the age of 6, these were the ones who held her, doted on her, spoiled her. (Truthfully, it was basically joint parenting.)
So, she didn’t want to send any of them into actual danger.
Besides, Cain was going to clean up the demon army anyway.
It’d be too painful and heartbreaking if any of her people died before that.
That’s why Cecilia used her Wind Blessing to personally scout and pick out the weakest enemy points—
Places that looked important, but were hollow on the inside.
She planned to let them claim safe victories that looked impressive.
It wasn’t a bad strategy.
If her subordinates had been average knights, it might’ve worked beautifully.
But these were the Windsor Knights.
The best knight order in the world.
A full 24 powerhouses, with each one having the power of an elite squad all by themselves.
You asked them to get 1 done, it was a matter of course that they would bring back 10.
The result? The Demon Army was mowed down like autumn leaves—
"Thanks to the Windsor Knights’ successive achievements, those cursed demons are in full retreat! We may be witnessing the greatest general in Lianen’s history—standing right here!"
‘No… no, no… this wasn’t supposed to happen…’
Cecilia, without intending to, had become a brilliant war commander.
"We can’t sit still anymore! All troops, charge! In less than a week, the Windsor Order has changed the tide of a 50-year stalemate war! Follow their lead!"
And thus began the final act—
Before the prologue even started.
An ending rushing in like a drunken stampede.
