Home / Legend of the Far East’s Savior / Chapter 37

Chapter 37

7 min read

What exactly are monsters, you might ask?

Surprisingly, there’s actually a fair bit known about them thanks to the demon that cooperated with the First Savior Project and a young kid, the linchpin of the Second Savior Project, who quite literally worked themselves to the bone (and then some) to provide information.

Granted, that intel was over a decade old, so there was no guarantee it still held up. But it wasn’t like humanity was completely in the dark, either.

To start with, demonkin were what you got when a human was implanted with some unknown element by a demon, assuming they weren’t completely consumed by it. Physically, they tended to end up with purple-tinged skin, glowing red eyes, and black wings—essentially more or less how people imagined demons to look.

That was no coincidence. Apparently, the person’s subconscious image of demons and demonkin was reflected in the transformation. Unlike monsters, demonkin retained their intelligence and memories from when they were human, and like most people who suddenly gained unprecedented power, they also tended to become incredibly cruel.

In regions under demonic control, humans were treated as both slaves and food. There was no such thing as human rights. Locals were hunted for sport, used as target practice for magic—whatever horrific whims might strike their demon overlords.

In a way, the brutality was similar to what had happened in the Americas or Australia when they were first colonized by Europeans.

But let’s put aside for now how recklessly arrogant demonkin tended to become once they stopped seeing themselves as human.

Unlike demonkin, the monsters they commanded had no intelligence or memories and simply followed the orders of whoever had given them the demonic element with absolute obedience. And if they weren’t given orders, they just wandered around like wild animals.

As mentioned previously, monsters varied in form depending on the concentration of the implanted demonic element and were categorized by size: small, medium, large, and extra-large.

Most monsters couldn’t cross the ocean on their own. However, creatures that were naturally good at swimming could manage it if they tried. Why, then, were they crossing the sea to attack Japan?

Because they’d been ordered to by demons and demonkin.

In which case, what was the motive behind these orders?

Surely, it wasn’t about seizing land or resources. It had been over a century since World War II, and plenty of countries had collapsed since then. The world’s population had dropped dramatically. If the demons wanted land, they could just take over a nearby patch of abandoned territory. There was no need to go all the way across the ocean to take Japan.

So no, their target wasn’t the land or the resources.

It was simply because that was the nature of demons.

More specifically, demons shared a common belief that humans became dangerous when they were too comfortable. So by constantly sending monsters to attack, they were trying to stir up fear, to remind people that nowhere was safe and keep humanity on edge.

They wanted humans to be desperate, with their backs against the wall.

There’s the saying Even a cornered rat will bite a cat. That was precisely what the demons were after.

Unlike demonkin, who enjoyed attacking from a safe distance, demons themselves were obsessed with blood-soaked combat. In a way, they were just like humans; they loved a good, bloody, evenly matched fight.

But for that to happen, the two sides did need to be evenly matched. Which was why the demons were intentionally applying pressure to humanity, especially countries like Japan that were leading the counteroffensive. They wanted humanity to evolve, to sharpen its fangs, so the eventual battle would be worth it.

You might have called them condescending—and that would be accurate.

But they could afford to be condescending because at this point in time, a vast gap still separated humanity and the demonic forces.

Aside from the demons’ overall strategy, demonkin had their own reasons as well.

As mentioned earlier, demonkin had no interest in a fair fight. They preferred to strike from the shadows and crush their enemies without risk. And since most of them had once been humans from the continental nations, they saw Japan as a nation of traitors.

Never mind that it was the continental nations that had cut ties and refused aid. To the demonkin, Japan was supposed to serve them unconditionally. The fact that it didn’t made its people traitors.

That was why they wanted to wipe Japan out—especially now that the country had been developing technology that could potentially destroy them.

Full-scale war, however, was off the table. It was forbidden by their superiors, the demons.

The demonkin found themselves caught in a dilemma. They hated Japan and wanted to see it destroyed, but they couldn’t wage all-out war. And so they came up with a work-around, a plan to keep the country on the ropes and maybe even bring it down eventually without defying the demons.

That plan was simple: Keep attacking. Keep pressuring them constantly.

With Japan forced to fight an endless defensive battle, it was only a matter of time before it burned through its resources and morale. Add to that the internal chaos caused by Symbiosis Faction collaborators—locals who believed peace was possible or just wanted an easy way out—and the country’s ability to resist would crumble.

That part of the plan was working. People were exhausted, and some were so tempted by goods smuggled in from the mainland that they joined the Symbiosis Faction without a second thought.

For now, the military was still holding firm. After all, the collapse of the Third Division had happened overseas, so it hadn’t shaken public confidence in the National Defense Forces just yet.

But how would the military react when the very citizens it was fighting to protect tried to get them to give up?

Would they arrest those protesting the war for dissent?

That was precisely what the demonkin wanted. They would spin the actions of the military as tyrannical.

Would the government ignore the public outcry and double down on the fight against the demonic forces?

The demonkin would be happy with that, too. They would openly mock Japan for prolonging a war its own people were against.

Once the military was in ruins, the demonkin would show the citizens who were so proud of sabotaging their own defenders what life under their rule truly meant.

No matter how it played out, Japan would lose. That was why the demonkin were willing to tolerate the demons’ frustrating command not to go all in.

Of course, that order only applied to full-scale offensives. The current ongoing raids weren’t about to stop anytime soon.

Even if Japan’s National Defense Forces cracked under the pressure, even if Kyushu or the Chugoku region were to fall, the demonkin wouldn’t let up. They would tell their demon superiors, “See? We told you Japan would crumble if we just kept poking.”

But they were in for a rude awakening.

Because soon, they would come face-to-face with the Japanese military’s newest weapon—something that would leave even veteran pilots staring in stunned disbelief, wondering, What the hell is that?

Even the demons, experts on weapons and magicite cores, would be left scratching their heads asking themselves, “How did this happen?” and saying, “I don’t understand.”

It was a nightmare of a machine—humanoid upper body, arachnid lower body—equal parts alien and grotesque, triggering revulsion in friends and foes alike.

The day was close at hand when the world would come to know the name the Black Deviant.

PreviousChapter 36
NextChapter 38

Comments

Lunovel

Continue your reading journey with us.