Chapter 28: We Are Demons

Despair was fermenting.

The hazy, pale moonlight fell upon Zoran, casting him in an air of incomparable nobility. From start to finish, he had not shifted his position by so much as half a step. He simply hovered there, at the very heart of the battlefield, the perfect image of a calm that remains unshaken by any storm.

Movement echoed from all sides as the opponents who had dared to offend a monarch rose to their feet once more, refusing to concede. Zoran allowed the corners of his mouth to quirk upward. A sliver of genuine amusement radiated from deep within him.

His current vessel could not withstand the full extent of his true power, but even this fraction was more than enough to suppress the assembled champions. Watching the enemies lunge toward him like streaks of lightning, he merely raised his palm again with unhurried grace.

It seemed that this, and only this, was sufficient.

…

On the other side of the field, Gilgamesh broke free from his constraints, leaping from the sea back onto solid ground. Rage, resentment, and hatred were insufficient to describe his current emotional state. Since his manifestation, he had never experienced a moment of such wretched humiliation.

His status, his identity, and his strength had built a wall of arrogance in his heart. Naturally, he possessed the capital to back that arrogance. But Zoran, with nothing more than a casual push of his palm, had brought that wall of pride crashing down.

His fury did not stem solely from Zoran's terrifying power. As Servants summoned into this world, there was bound to be a disparity in strength. What truly enraged him was Zoran's unruffled demeanor.

The man looked as though he cared for nothing; in his eyes, the crowd before him was nothing more than passing clouds, beneath his notice. Indifference, tranquility, elegance, composure... Only one who truly held such a conviction could act with such nonchalance.

He seemed entirely incapable of anger, treating everything before him as a trivial game for his own amusement. It was utterly loathsome!

Clearly... clearly only a day ago, Gilgamesh was the one who played that loathsome role. But in a mere instant, their positions had been reversed. He had been struck down from the heavens of the superior, left in a state of pathetic disarray.

Only a monarch is fit to stand above all others; only a monarch should be gazed upon by insects. And yet, he had fallen into the mundane dust. As a King, he could not tolerate such a provocation!

The seawater on his body evaporated instantly under the heat of his power as he let out a roar. In the next second, a massive figure materialized before him.

"Caster!!!" Gilgamesh hissed, his eyes locked onto the figure blocking his path.

"What are you looking at?" Shendu's voice was a low growl.

He cast a sidelong glance behind him. Zoran's silhouette, bathed in the faint moonlight, remained poised and at ease, a sight that moved even a demon.

"It seems my elder brother has left you somewhat... irritated," Shendu remarked, the corners of his mouth curling into a subtle, knowing grin.

"Elder brother...?" Gilgamesh paused, chewing on the implications of that cryptic word.

This monstrous thing calling itself a demon... that man was his brother? Servants were beings who descended from the legends of history. If Zoran was Caster's elder brother, then just what kind of monster had leapt out of the long river of time? Was he immortal?

"However... it cannot be denied that he is a perfect specimen, is he not?" Shendu shrugged and took a step forward.

Regardless of how others viewed him, from Shendu's perspective, Zoran was indeed a perfect demon. The Eight Demon Sorcerers were ranked by age; that was a primordial certainty that could not be changed. But demons were also prideful beings. Shendu most of all.

Yet, Zoran's performance during this period had been, to him, indisputably flawless. It reminded him of the ages before they were sealed into the Netherworld. In those days, Tso Lan ruled the moon alone, existing beyond the heavens and indifferent to the trifles of the mortal realm. That air of detached composure was exactly the same now as it was then.

Shendu had always felt that only the Tso Lan of that era was worthy of being called "Brother." The Moon Demon imprisoned in the Netherworld for tens of millions of years afterward had been nothing but a hollow shell, a mere shadow.

Of course, it wasn't just Tso Lan; they had all been like that. The Netherworld never ceased in its attempt to grind away their sapience. But now, that brother of the past had returned like a bolt of lightning. He had made an elder's promise to rescue all his brothers and sisters, just as they had hoped on their first day in the abyss.

Only such a being was worthy of being the brother to Shendu, the brother to the Eight Demon Sorcerers.

"Just what kind of things are you people!" Gilgamesh shouted his first interrogation.

"We?" Shendu chuckled softly, and then his laughter grew increasingly wild and arrogant.

He came to a halt not far from Gilgamesh, his hideous frame overflowing with power. He brought his arms together, and the world began to unfurl like a scroll.

He laughed maniacally: "We... are Demons!"

The Reality Marble, Glory of the Ancient Demon, descended once more.

Zoran looked up at the changing sky. Shendu had unleashed his Reality Marble again, pulling everyone into its domain. With Zoran acting as a Master with nearly infinite mana reserves, he could afford to play as recklessly as he wished.

As the Glory of the Ancient Demon expanded, the sky reflected the blood-red hue of the Netherworld. Palaces reconstructed themselves, dragons swirled through the celestial light, and shadow-minions sang unholy hymns.

Before Zoran, Saber bowed her body, breathing heavily; Lancer was half-kneeling on the ground. Meanwhile, Berserker continued to madly hurl himself against the invisible wall of gravitational force surrounding the Demon.

"Caster's Reality Marble... again," Waver muttered.

The mana required to deploy a Reality Marble-type Noble Phantasm was usually astronomical, yet Caster had released it twice in a short span of time and still appeared to have energy to spare. A flicker of confusion crossed Waver's mind, but as soon as he looked at Caster's Master, Zoran, he understood.

If that man was the one providing the mana, then nothing was surprising. In Waver's mind, Zoran had already been categorized as non-human. He was certain of it. This was not something a human could achieve.

When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth: Caster's Master was a monster. And they were currently challenging that monster.

The moment the Glory of the Ancient Demon fully manifested, Shendu's aura surged boundlessly. Only here could he exert his top-tier strength. The power of the Twelve Talismans, now at the level of Noble Phantasms, peaked.

Zoran's presence had drawn so much attention that everyone seemed to have temporarily forgotten or overlooked one fact: the Caster of this Holy Grail War was an equally terrifying existence.

His killing intent was aimed directly at Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes. He was the target Shendu had chosen from the very beginning. And Zoran, ever considerate, had left the King to him.

This was a war of Kings. Only death could end it.