The Revenge of the Soul Eater

A loud scream rang out through the night.

The people who screamed were the ones who had gathered onlookers, and their gazes were directed at the black-clad woman who had shown her true face.

I look at the same person.

It's probably an elf, judging by the shape of her ears. I added the word "probably" because it was the first time I had seen an elf with brown skin and silver hair. Like Lunamaria, all the elves I knew had white skin and golden hair.

I'm sure they weren't tanned in the desert, so they may be of a different elven breed than Lunamaria.

It's not strange. Even humans have different skin and hair colors. It's no wonder that elves are like that.

The problem was - the cause of the people screaming was the appearance of the elves.

The right half of the face is delicate and beautiful, with a hint of fairy blood.

In contrast, the left half is--

You monster!

One of the 'Desert Eagles' who had slashed off the elf's hood right before, cursed. It was perhaps the words that most clearly expressed the feelings of those present here.

The half of the elf was that of a lion. It could only be described as resembling a lion, without an ounce of the bravery and strength felt by a wild lion, for example. Their severely distorted appearance is nothing short of hideous.

The fact that the face of the elves was so beautiful made their ugliness all the more striking.

''--''

The female elf covers her face with her left hand, which is not holding a sword. Her lips are pulled together in a straight line as if she were holding something back.

The man who has just called out a monster, perhaps seeing his action as an opening, slashes at the elf.

In response to this attack, the elf drew his long sword from his waist and soundly bounced back his opponent's slash.

However, how cramped he was defending himself while covering his face with his hands, in fact, he allowed his opponent to regain his position without being able to move to counterattack.

In the meantime, the other members of the Desert Eagles are surrounding them, but the elf is still keeping his hands on his face.

It seems that to the elf, exposing his true face is even more detestable than being hidden by his enemies.

It is not surprising that they are unable to fight the vastly outnumbered opponents with such a stance, and they are immediately cut down from all sides and forced to defend themselves.

Every time the cutting edge of the group of hawks caught the elf, blood sprayed into the night. Blood trickled down from their arms and backs, staining their clothes. It's not just a matter of time before you'll be able to get your hands on a new one. You can almost hear the sound of his breathing from here as well.

It's a good idea to be able to have a good time with your friends and family.

--I've been watching all of these scenes in silence. I'm not going to take advantage of the desert hawk, nor will I help the elves who have turned against me.

I'd like to leave as soon as possible, but there was a strange feeling in the air that kept me here for a while.

The source of the presence is, of course, that elf. I'm not sure if it's the same thing as a magic stone on the verge of exploding. I'm not sure if it's the right thing to do, but I'm not going to bother warning them, so I'll just let them go. But I had no reason to warn them, so I let it go.

In the meantime, there was another screaming and groaning. Looking at it, the sleeves of the elf's clothes had been torn off, revealing a beast-hair-covered skin peeking out from it. Apparently, the elf's deformity is not only on its face, but also on its body.

"Demon, I do not know what your plan is to enter this city, but know that it is fortunate that our Eagle of the Desert found you!

The man's sword, wielded as he said it, accurately caught the elf and slashed him down from the shoulder. The blood that poured out of the wound hit the ground violently and the slashed elf staggered backwards.

Then another man slashed at him from behind and again severed his back wide open. Blood gushed out with a sound like a fountain, and the dense smell of blood filled the area.

Screams and cheers erupted simultaneously from the surroundings. Everyone would have thought that it was definitely a fatal wound. In fact, the elf's amber eyes were quickly losing their light.

However, just as the eyes were about to be reduced to a glass ball of willlessness, a red glow filled the elf's eyes. It's a wet red that reminds me of fresh blood. The moment I thought it covered the eyes, a tremendous roar came from the elf's mouth.

The deafening roar was at the same time a magical summons for the human spirit. If one were to compare it to the dragon's roar (dragonlore) released by Hydra, it would be similar to that of a dragon. Of course, it's not that powerful of an illusory species, but still, it's not something that the unprepared can withstand.

Even more so if they were showered with it at close quarters.

''Gahhhh!

Hi!

Guh, oh...

The members of the Desert Eagles were crawling around on the ground with their ears covered. Some were bleeding from their palms, and their eardrums seemed to have been torn out.

The onlookers who had surrounded them were not going to get away with it. Some were on their knees and moaning, some were crawling on the ground like a hawk in the desert, and some were crying and trying to get away from the scene.

'Hiiiiiiii!　Heeeeeeeeeeeee!

As if to chase those people away, the elf once again lets out a shout.

--It's not so much a shout as a loud laugh.

When you think about it, the lion's half of the face is grinning in amusement. On the other hand, the half of the fairy's face was also twisted, but it looked more like a person in pain than a laugh.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, a change occurred in the elf's face.

The lion's face widened. Slowly but surely, from the tip of my chin, it overwrites the elf's face and paints it into that of a lion.

It was somewhat like the short hand of a clock. The lion's domain expanded as the hand that had been pointing at six o'clock ticked down to seven and eight o'clock. When the needle continues to move forward and points to twelve o'clock, the face of the elf will have become that of a lion.

When that happens, what will be unleashed on the world?

'Well, it won't be a good one, that's for sure.

I say, scratching my head crudely. Out of the corner of my eye, an elf - or rather, something that was once an elf - is about to reveal itself in all its glory.

A lion's head and lion's arm emerge from beneath a torn off robe. Its legs were equipped with wings and claws reminiscent of a bird of prey, and on its back were four wings, also reminiscent of a bird of prey, spread out on its back. Two different tails extended from the buttocks, tangling together as if they were twitching.

It was a demon I had never seen before.

But I had heard of them. The information Ilaria had gathered on Belka included a story about a demon similar to this one.

To be precise, it was not a demon, but a demon god, and even more so, it was a story that belonged more to legend than reality.

It is, so to speak, an evil wind that drives through the desert.

With the face and arms of a lion, the legs and wings of an eagle, the tail of a scorpion and a snake, he is the king of the hot sand.

The name of this demon god of fever and locust attack is

Pazuzu, King of the Wind, wasn't it?

The demon god seems to have heard the murmurings, which were pretty much a soliloquy.

He smiled eerily as he affirmed my words.

That face has already turned into a lion for three quarters of the time.