Legacy The Inherited Sword

Gladius, at an incredible speed, kept the demons in a fixed circle around him, not allowing them to get even an inch closer. The demons swarmed around him, but every sword strike they made was in vain. It was as if Gladius had sealed them in a designated area with his dual swords, not letting them breach the boundary he dictated. 

A demon would charge from the front, and Gladius would counter its sword with his own. Yet, despite the relentless flurry of attacks—dozens of strikes every second—Gladius's arms moved at such an astonishing speed that the demons couldn't come near him. Even attacks from behind were met with a lightning-fast turn and precise parry, so quick that even Khazak and Mylia could barely follow with their eyes. Yet, despite his overwhelming mastery, Gladius refrained from launching any counterattacks, keeping the demons at bay without taking a single offensive move. 

Finally noticing Khazak and Mylia sitting on the sidelines, utterly spent and bewildered, Gladius spun with all his might, sending the swords of every demon attacking him flying into the air. His sharp gaze then shifted to the archdemon at the back—the one with its eyes closed, muttering incomprehensible words, seemingly in prayer, surrounded by swirling crimson smoke. After taking a brief look, he turned his focus back to the mass of demons around him and began walking toward them, his impenetrable sphere of defense still intact. It was as though his body and swords moved independently, creating an almost otherworldly spectacle. 

As he slowly advanced, a devilish grin spread across his face—more sinister than any of the demons he faced. At that moment, one of the demons managed to breach the sword barrier Gladius had created. However, the instant it stepped in, Gladius cut its body into three pieces—one strike severing its neck and the other slicing from its left shoulder to its right hip. Witnessing this brutal display, a few demons froze in shock, paralyzed by fear. 

Noticing their hesitation, the smile vanished from Gladius's face. What happened next was a blur even to Khazak and Mylia. All they could make out was a silhouette moving at unimaginable speed, two streaks of light flashing in its hands as it darted through a group of 12 or 13 demons. 

When the motion stopped, Gladius swung his two swords in a cross, sending the purple blood splattered on them flying into the grass. In that instant, the heads of the demons behind him dropped to the ground, blood gushing from their necks like fountains. 

Realizing they had suffered such a devastating defeat, some demons stood paralyzed, while others turned and fled. But Gladius made no move to pursue them. Instead, he lowered his gaze, his expression shifting to one of deep sorrow as he stared at the ground. 

At that moment, the archdemon, who had appeared to be in prayer, suddenly opened its eyes, signaling the completion of its spell. Instantly, all the surviving demons around it collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony and screaming in torment. From three different points on their bodies, crimson smoke began to rise, twisting and swirling before flowing into the archdemon's sword, which gleamed with a malevolent glow. 

As the agonized screams of the demons subsided, an overwhelming crimson mana exploded outward, spreading across the battlefield. The wave of mana struck Khazak and Mylia, pinning them to the ground with an oppressive force. 

Khazak's vision became tainted with the vivid red glow of the sky, merging with swirling, nearly black crimson smoke. Amid this surreal and nightmarish scene, the only thing standing undisturbed was Gladius, who had turned to face the archdemon. His figure, calm and resolute, was silhouetted against the swirling malevolent energy, a stark contrast to the chaos around him. 

When the demon realized that the mana it spread had no suppressive effect on Gladius, it withdrew its mana and stabbed its sword, emitting dark red smoke, into the ground. With the sword embedded in the ground, the grass around it began to slowly wither, and this withering spread like a disease. 

Then, the demon clasped the hilt of the sword with both hands, pulled it out of the ground, and assumed a guard stance. Seeing this, Gladius, without changing the expression on his face, crossed his swords and assumed his own guard stance. 

The demon looked as though it was about to say something but decided to remain silent, suddenly lunging toward Gladius. Gladius used one sword to deflect the demon's attack to the side and made a small cut on its waist with the other sword. 

The demon took a step back and slashed its own wound with its smoke-emitting sword. Witnessing this, Khazak and Mylia watched in shock. With that self-inflicted cut, agonized screams suddenly filled the air, and part of the smoke emanating from the demon's sword flowed into the wound, completely healing it. 

Just as the demon turned to grin at Gladius, it noticed that Gladius wasn't even in a guard stance and was instead looking at the ground with a sorrowful expression. 

Annoyed, the demon quickly recomposed itself and attacked Gladius again, swinging its sword down from above. Gladius crossed his swords to block the strike, but the demon continued to push down with its strength. 

Finally, Gladius lifted his head and looked directly into the demon's eyes. The moment the demon saw his gaze, it immediately recoiled, breathing heavily. 

Those were not the eyes of a human. They weren't the eyes of a demon either. They were something far, far worse. 

In a strange accent, the demon shouted: 

"What are you?.." 

Gladius turned his eyes to the demon and spoke, his gaze now stripped of its previous intensity. The look in his eyes was more human than any human's: 

"You shouldn't toy with the souls of the dead like this." 

The demon was enraged by these words. Letting out a strange scream, it lunged at Gladius, but this time, Gladius fought back. His two swords struck from the right, the left, above, and below. The demon struggled to defend itself against the relentless onslaught, barely managing to block each strike. 

Finally, the demon let out a scream, and the smoke from its sword transformed into two sharp, cutting tendrils, which it directed toward Gladius's eyes. Gladius didn't even blink. 

But the demon had made a grave mistake—it blinked. 

In those fleeting moments, Gladius appeared behind the demon and, with a single motion, severed its head while saying: 

"For her." 

With the demon's death, the plague-like decay that had withered the surrounding plants came to an end. It stopped just at the edge of the field—Gladius's field, the last memento of his late wife. If it had continued any longer, her memory, embodied in that field, would have been harmed. 

Gladius planted both his swords into the ground and sat cross-legged next to the demon's corpse. As he rested, he noticed Khazak and Mylia crawling toward him, barely able to contain their excitement despite their exhaustion. 

He spoke: 

"Using this much ki is tiring... Guess I'm getting old." 

Khazak and Mylia, still catching their breath, managed to sit up. Khazak sat cross-legged, while Mylia knelt beside him. Khazak then said: 

"You're way more amazing than I ever imagined, Uncle Gladius!" 

Gladius leaned back, spreading his arms out against the ground, and replied: 

"Back to calling me uncle, huh? Go fetch me my cigarette." 

Deflated, Khazak responded, his enthusiasm now dampened: 

"I can't even stand up, Gladius..." 

Gladius slightly raised his voice and said: 

"Really? After fighting for five minutes against a slave and a couple of bottom-tier demons, you've ended up like this? Go get my cigarette." 

Feeling insulted for the second time, Khazak tried to walk toward the house, his legs trembling. After barely making it a meter, he collapsed again. Mylia, covering her mouth with her hand, started to giggle softly at the sight. Meanwhile, Gladius, still lying on the ground, continued berating Khazak, whose persistent attempts to reach the house only made Mylia's laughter brighten the atmosphere even more. 

Gladius called out: 

"If two minutes of fighting leaves you like this, you're hopeless. If I had another month to train you..." 

Khazak, struck down by a third jab, muttered rebelliously from where he lay, his voice both frustrated and defeated: 

"Why does the time keep getting shorter...?"