501 500 words: "Magical Circus"




 Today, the sun is shining. In the sky covered with dead snow, the sun was showing itself very close, as if it was looking down only on the capital city of Borvat.

 Catching the sunlight, the poisonous Junerva spread its wings and looked down on the world below from the sky.

 There was a struggle between man and the demon horde. The fury of fangs and spears eating each other's lives.

 But from the sky, it's all so small. It almost makes me sneeze. Not even the music of war, not even the sound of savage voices.

 The sky is good, but the truth is, Junerva didn't like flying that much.

 The sky reminds her of everything. The sky reminds her that in the past, all this sky was hers.

 Those days when you reigned like the sun and caressed the earth with the wind. The glory of having faith and power as my own.

 A nostalgia so trivial it threatened to overwhelm Junerva. That's why she wanted to avoid fluttering her wings whenever possible.

 But the sky is always superior to the ground. A muddy beast crawling on the ground can't catch a falcon running in the sky.

 Things always fall from the top to the bottom and never rise from the bottom to the top. Theorems never move.

 So what was about to begin was not a struggle, but a slaughter.

 As Junerva gazed down, it seemed that the humans had the upper hand in the battle of armies. The raptor's eyes narrowed in dismay.

 It seems that in the mere hundreds of years since Althea abolished the demons and demons, the intelligence of the demons has regressed considerably. Just after Junerva woke up, they didn't even know their own race.

 Or perhaps they had even forgotten the concept of race.

 That can't be helped. In a world where magic is diminished, magical beasts gradually degenerate into beasts, and the demon race turns into a mass of magical power. The true nature of intelligence is depravity. They exist in order to be corrupted.

 The battlefield was clearly visible from above. The demon army is being drawn too much to the right flank of the human side. They too had the instinct to take advantage of the enemy's weakness.

 They took advantage of that and the center was getting thin. This means that the center of the demon army will be devoured by humanity's rebellion, and the demon army will be caught in the middle.

 Those who commanded the humans were obviously used to fighting. And they're good at it. Junerva even showed a kind of admiration. It seemed that the humans, who regarded their army as a single unit, were sometimes better in terms of tactics than the demons, who used their individual performance to form an army.

 But still... It doesn't make any sense.

 Because a mass of mediocre individuals exists to be crushed by a powerful one.

 As soon as Junerva quietly opened her beak, a loud voice pierced the space around her. A loud echo from the diffusion of Junerva's magic.

 Immediately after it was over, the end came.

 --The sky is rotting and falling.

 The sky, a dull mixture of white and gray, was being eroded into a poisonous black and blue. The dull sky of white and ash was eroding into a poisonous black and blue. The foul colored mud was shaking and expanding in the air with Junerva at the center.

 Junerva's magic became a poison, corrupting, dissolving and invading everything it touched. It rained down on the earth as a ferocious beast that could not give anything, but only take it away.

 A drop of the demon falls on a nearby roof. A drop becomes a hole and runs through the whole roof. The walls, the bricks, everything was swallowed up in a flood.

 I didn't need to imagine what would happen if that evil were to hit a human being. And so it was.

 Just a few drops and a bunch of people would die. In a crowd of people, it's not so easy to escape.

"Move! Retreat! Don't throw away your life!

 But the humans were quick to react. But humanity reacted quickly. Especially the Borvat army, which had seen it once before. They know what that poisonous air of blue mud is.

 They cut off the minimum amount of damage, and even the advantage over the demon army was easily discarded, and humanity retreated from the battlefield. It was an amazing sight. It is the nature of living beings to want to chase after an advantage, but they did not hesitate at all.

 Just as they were about to give chase, Junerva's eyes twisted as she spewed venom.

 --The retreat was too good to be true.

 I'm not sure what to do. If you've been ordered to fall back when a demon comes, you'll usually have some hesitation. And yet, the current retreat was as if they knew the demon was coming.

 As if to confirm Junerva's suspicions, a roar ripped through her side cheek. No, not just one, but two, three, four - countless flashes of evil covered Junerva.

 A volley of shots from the sorcerers hiding in the still-melting houses. If you are a serious demon, this is enough to make your body fall apart.

 Of course, this is meaningless to a demon. It's just a distraction. And that's fine for the sorcerers.

 --Just to buy some time before the demon's spear takes aim.

 Thunder. Roar. Roar. A rampage of demonic lightning pierces Junerva's entire body.



 Mastigios-la-Volgograd's black hair bounced up and down, making him stand out even from the air. Junerva recognized him. She was a brave warrior who had come alive on the battlefield.

 A part of Junerva's wings burned and she lowered her altitude. Enough heat to wound a demon. It's definitely a heroic warrior. He's stepped out of the ranks of humanity and half-stepped into evil.

 But Junerva didn't think he could hit the magic this well. She must have had a lot of preparation, including a magic circle. It's as if he was gambling.

"...... Or is it? I'm the one who's ignorant. Ha, ha, ha.

 Then it finally hit me. The swift movement of the soldiers, the well-aimed and dense fire of the demons, and the great magic that could wound the demons.

 In other words, I've been lured. This battlefield itself is a trap. He knew that if he created an advantage in the center, I would surely come there.

 And when you know you're coming, you're prey.

 Junerva's huge bird face broke into a smile. And laughed loudly. She folded her slightly scarred wings. The demon's poison slightly weakened its invasion.

 A simple, yet grand trap. The humans knew it. This is not a battle between armies. It's a game of how to get a grip on each other's strongest individual.

No, no, no. That's awesome. I haven't felt pain in a long time.

It would be more endearing if you were a little bitter.

 While standing on the ground, only one of them faces the demon. This was no longer a battle of armies against armies, but a battle of individuals against individuals.

 Junerva's smile wavered, then she opened her beak and said.

I don't understand. You should have spent the rest of your life tinkering with your garden.

I will. Right now I'm trying to get rid of the vermin that are destroying my garden.

 Mastighios was still full of magic. Thunder rumbled from his fingertips. Majestic, no longer as a general, but as a sorcerer, he stood before the mages.

 Mastighios thought. If I die, there is a hero behind me. He had told his soldiers that if the worst came to the worst, they should fall back to the battle line in front of him, though he had changed his appearance considerably now.

 So let's fight the good fight for a change. Just as an individual.

 Junerva looked at Mastighios and felt a renewed sense of admiration and a small amount of pity for him.

 One sorcerer, Mastighios, standing before him, brimming with magic and wariness, overcoming the fear of death. He has the finesse that drew him in, the ability to command his troops, and the courage to do so.

 Now, he must kill all of these wonderful people and their soldiers.

 Even Majin felt a little pity.