The Berserker’s Second Playthrough Novel - Chapter 68

Chapter 68
## Chapter: 68

### Chapter Title: From Now On, Kill Each Other (1)

—

Past the outer fortifications of Soltana lay the devastated ruins of the urban center.

High Battle Mage Uldren, a veteran of the Magic Tower, hissed a string of silent profanities. Since he couldn’t vent his frustration openly, the insults churned within his mind.

‘Damn it all to hell. I knew this would be a disaster the moment they paired me with these library-dwelling relics who’ve spent their entire lives hiding behind parchment…’

The title of ‘Battle Mage’ was reserved for those who dedicated their existence to the art of lethal sorcery and the harsh reality of the front lines, abandoning the pursuit of pure theory. They served as the iron fist of the Magic Tower—exterminating powerful fiends, holding the line during border disputes, and acting as a lethal vanguard for their kin.

However, a deep-seated resentment burned within the elite Battle Mages. While they were treated with surface-level respect, they faced an invisible ceiling.

The hierarchy of the Tower valued academic breakthroughs over combat triumphs. No matter how many battle honors a Battle Mage earned, they were capped at the ‘Conqueror Tier.’ Ascending to the ‘Sage Tier’—and securing a seat on the influential Elder Council—was a pipe dream.

This was why Uldren, despite being the most seasoned warrior in the group, was relegated to the role of a disgruntled guide rather than the leader. This task force, assembled to purge a high demon, was commanded by three Elders who technically outranked him.

“[…Enkaris, Invictum!!]”
As the black-clad Elder concluded his chant, the atmosphere groaned under the weight of surging mana. Spheres of solidified, metallic energy formed in the air before screaming forward with violent velocity, obliterating every structure in their trajectory.

――――― CRASH-BOOM-BOOM, CRASH-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!!

Rumble, groan…

Stone and timber shattered, collapsing into dust and carving a jagged highway toward the city’s epicenter. The Elder who cast the spell wore a self-satisfied smirk, while his peers looked on with thinly veiled jealousy. The junior Battle Mages offered hollow flatteries that seemed to drone on forever.

Uldren, however, could only let out a weary breath before stepping forward.

“Elder Delpharus, I urge you to avoid such ostentatious displays. We risk alerting the high demon to our exact location—it could subject us to curses or the corruption of its aura.”

“…”

“Furthermore, squandering your reserves now might leave us vulnerable when the real fight begins…”

Elder Delpharus didn’t bother to mask his contempt. He cut Uldren off sharply, using his heavy metal staff to prod the warrior’s forehead—tap-tap.

“Uldren, remind me of your tenure in the Tower.”

“…It will be thirty years come next year, Elder.”

“I am currently in my fifty-fourth year. That means when you were still a wet-behind-the-ears novice without a mana stone in your chest, I was already a master of the craft. Do you truly think you have the standing to instruct me? Do a few minor skirmishes with lesser demons make you feel superior?”

“…”

“Remember your place: in this hunt, you are the hound. A hound’s duty is to obey the master and bring down the quarry. Have you ever known a dog to give its master tactical advice?”

Uldren clenched his teeth so hard they felt ready to shatter. Delpharus was undeniably talented in the lab, but academic success was a world away from the visceral horror of demon-slaying.

“My unsolicited advice was out of turn, Elder. However, demons are—”

“You admitted it was out of turn, so be silent. I am well-versed in demonology. Now, everyone—advance! The Tower Lord awaits our success. We must claim the high demon’s head before the sun sets!”

Another Elder stepped up, though only to offer a mild, condescending chiding to Delpharus.

“Now, now, why be so harsh in front of the subordinates? The lad has a reputation among the Battle Mages, after all…”

“Quiet! He’s been acting like a self-important expert since we stepped foot here—I have to instill some discipline! If I don’t, these fighters start forgetting their rank and begin lusting after a seat on the Council…”

Delpharus shouted the last part for the benefit of the entire squad as he marched ahead. Uldren’s face burned with humiliation as he felt the pitying stares of his fellow soldiers and the mocking backs of the Elders.

‘You shriveled, arrogant old bastard… I hope you stumble into a nightmare and get eaten alive before the day is out…’

Despite his internal rage, Uldren’s hands moved instinctively, weaving a complex veil of concealment around the group. If the Elder’s arrogance actually triggered a curse, the entire unit was at risk. In the Magic Tower—a place supposedly dedicated to truth—the juniors were always the ones cleaning up the arrogance of their betters.

But as fate would have it, dark thoughts have a way of manifesting.

Uldren’s eyes snapped wide.

A paralyzing chill gripped his throat and raced down his spine. The unmistakable pressure of a ‘demonic aura’ was bearing down on them. He reacted instantly, rolling back his sleeve to activate a mass-protection sigil etched into his skin.

Vwoooooom—!

He was too slow.

The distance was too short. Before the shimmering shield could expand, a suffocating black mist swallowed the front of the line. Uldren choked back a gasp and sprinted toward the Elders and his squad mates.

Then, he stopped dead, his expression twisting into horror.

“Huh? Uldren, why did you get so big…?”

“Wh-what is happening? My hands… why are they so small…?”

“…”

His hardened warriors were gone. In their place stood a group of confused, terrified children.

Yet the oversized crimson and black robes hanging off their small frames were clearly the gear of the task force. Drawing on his decades of experience, Uldren’s mind raced to a grim conclusion.

‘Damn it, a demon with the power to manipulate time or age… But where is Delpharus…?’

“[…Ilek, Ersio.]”
The moment he looked up, blinding streaks of light descended from the heavens.

―――― Thud, thud, squelch, thud!

Spikes of conjured metal rained down without mercy. They tore through small bodies from head to toe, ripping through soft flesh and vital organs before anchoring into the cobblestones. The regressed mages fell instantly, looking like pincushions of steel and gore.

Uldren threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding a killing blow. However, a single spike tore through his cranium, exiting through his eye. He knew he was a dead man. Through his remaining, blood-blurred eye, he looked at the perpetrator.

It was Delpharus, his mind completely shattered and enslaved by the demon.

“[Grh, nrrgh… Intruders eliminated… Ah, yes… My gratitude, ‘Pebilatus’… I serve… gladly…]”
For most, a return to youth meant a loss of power—but for a mage, the opposite was true. The Elder had been reverted to the absolute zenith of his magical potential, now transformed into a puppet of pure destruction.

Uldren closed his good eye, his final thought a bitter irony.

“Of course… the old fool… finally listens… to someone…”

Splak—crack, crrrunch!

A silver axe-head whipped upward, shattering a demon’s jaw, spraying teeth like shrapnel, and carving through the skull. A trail of dark ichor followed the arc of the weapon as the creature—its face now a ruin of meat—was sent tumbling backward.

* Queeeeh!
* Queee, kill… destroy him!

A second demon tried to exploit the opening, only to meet a brutal elbow.

CRACK—!

The barbarian’s arm, hard as granite, slammed into the demon’s face, collapsing its nasal cavity and caving in its skull. Fluid leaked from ruptured eyes as the monster stumbled off the ledge, its screams fading into the abyss below.

* Grraaaaa…

“…”>

Atop the blood-slicked walls of Soltana.

The battlements were choked with the remains of the dead, marking the path Kadim had cleared. If there were a bounty for every demon slain, the city’s treasury would be bankrupt by now.

Yet the tide of monsters seemed endless.

* Krrraaah!
* I’ll feast on your marrow! I’ll snap your spine and drink your life!

Kadim’s eyes narrowed. His original plan was to purge them all here. Even if the ‘center demon’ died, these creatures wouldn’t simply vanish; they would become a disorganized plague. It was better to thin the numbers while they were concentrated.

But the sheer volume was staggering. Even worse, some were invoking the name of their master, undergoing grotesque transformations that healed their wounds or evolved their forms.

* Kehehek, all life bows to the cycle of ‘Pebilatus’…
* ‘Pebilatus’! Grant me the strength of your domain…!!

“…”>

This was a losing battle of attrition. Kadim shifted his strategy: he would take the head of the center demon first, then deal with the remnants.

“…Wait here. I’ll be back to finish this later.”

* Kyaaaaak!!
* The meat is running! Don’t let it escape!!!

Kadim vaulted over the edge of the wall, plummeting toward the city streets. A pack of hobgoblins and kobolds, driven by demonic frenzy, threw themselves after him without a second thought.

* Kehehehehek!!
* Huweeeek!!

Mid-air, the monsters flailed their rusted blades, grasping at nothing.

Kadim ignored them, focusing on the wind rushing past and the ground rising to meet him. At the optimal second, he gripped his axe with both hands and buried the blade into the stone wall to slow his descent.

SCRAPE-GAGA-GRIND—!

Stone sprayed in every direction as he carved a deep furrow down the masonry, eventually hitting the ground with a heavy impact.

Thud—! Splat, crunch—!

The monsters following him fared much worse. They hit the pavement like sacks of wet grain, their bodies bursting or their limbs snapping into jagged angles upon impact.

* Kreeee…

Crack—crunch!

Kadim silenced a squirming survivor with a swift axe blow. The edge remained as sharp as the moment he started. He briefly marveled at the craftsmanship of the ancient dwarves who had forged such a tool.

“…”>

He didn’t have time for wonder. Surveying the interior, Kadim noted signs of other visitors.

The streets were littered with monster carcasses, but these deaths were different: charred by unnatural flames, encased in frost, or crushed by massive weights. It wasn’t hard to guess who had arrived first.

‘The mages got here before me…’

Had his delay on the walls cost him? This was the worst outcome. If the Tower’s sorcerers killed the ‘center demon’ and took the body, securing the blood he needed would become a diplomatic nightmare.

The only consolation was that the feeling hadn’t vanished. The pulsating demonic tether that drew him forward was still active. Following that repulsive sensation, Kadim sprinted deeper into the ruins of Soltana.

“…”>

The city was a ghost of its former self. The grand boulevards were now choked with debris and skeletal remains. The air was a thick soup of rot, shattered stone, and waste. The distant wails of monsters acted as a grim soundtrack to the rhythmic thud of the barbarian’s boots.

Actual human bodies were scarce, but the evidence of their fate was everywhere. Dark stains and bone fragments marked the spots where the demons had feasted.

Some were still eating.

* Sizzle!
* Sizz…

Splatak, crack—crunch!

* Chit!

Kadim didn’t slow down, cleaving through a group of ratmen hunched over a carcass. Clouds of flies rose from the fresh kills, settling back down almost instantly.

After traversing the winding, shadowed streets, Kadim reached the heart of the city and stopped at an impossible sight.

“…”>

A series of buildings had been leveled in a perfect, straight line, as if a god had dragged a finger through the city.

The air here reeked of mana—not the foul stench of demons, but the organized energy of the Tower.

This wasn’t the work of a common apprentice. The power displayed here far exceeded the mage he had killed near Remta. It seemed the Tower had sent their true heavy hitters for this hunt.

Kadim pressed on through the rubble. The path of destruction led directly to the source of the demonic pulse. He had no other choice but to walk into the lion’s den.

In what used to be the central plaza—likely the site of the former council chambers—Kadim found the aftermath.

He saw the broken bodies of mages, impaled by silver spikes. And standing among them was a figure that looked like a withered husk, skin sagging and grey—yet radiating a terrifying, divine-like fury.

“[Grrraaak, Lord Pebilatus… Yes, I hear you… The intruder… I will erase him… Golkata, Mol, Delgsium…]”
The possessed Elder wheezed the words of a spell. Jagged metal thorns began to manifest in the air around him.

Tssing, ching, ching, tsss…

There was no room for dialogue. Kadim preferred it that way. He flashed a predatory grin and let his axe fly.

Splaaaak—!

“[…Ilek, Ersio!]”
―――――― Splak, splak, splak!

To counter the sudden storm of metal, Kadim instantly tapped into the power of his new tattoo.