The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
Chapter 212: Encounter (5)
A sky tainted in ash.
A land stripped of color.
Air laced with poison.
A realm teeming with malformed monsters.
Humans call it the Grey Zone, but the locals refer to it as the Demon Realm.
Yuribe was born in District 1,999 — considered the outermost edge of even that forsaken land.
“Th-That’s food.”
“Hand it over!”
“Get lost! I found this, you—urk!”
A place where people kill without hesitation for a mouthful of food.
Yuribe had to learn how to survive from early childhood — even before his horns had grown.
“Move faster!”
“If you don’t meet your quota this month, I’ll grind you down myself to make up the magic stones — you hear me?!”
In the desolate Demon Realm, magic stones were one of the few sources of energy — and currency.
District managers paid a monthly tribute of stones to higher-ranking nobles in exchange for the continued privilege of life.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Naturally, age didn’t exempt anyone from labor.
In fact, children were often sent into places adults couldn’t reach due to their smaller bodies.
“Here’s today’s ration.”
“This is it?”
“What did you say?”
“...Nothing.”
Even when daily quotas were met, the rations given were barely enough to qualify as food.
No one could survive on that alone.
Death was common.
“What, dead again?”
“Hey! Get rid of this one.”
In the Demon Realm, no one cares for the dead.
To die is to be weak, and weakness is the greatest sin in this world.
‘...I will survive.’
Yuribe caught and ate bugs in the gaps between mining hours.
On really lucky days, he would force spiders or bats into his mouth to get through the day.
Each night, as he lay on the ground to sleep, he would see the inscription on the towering spire above:
──Strength matters more than life.
A creed etched into the bodies and minds of every inhabitant of the Demon Realm.
The weak die.
The strong survive — and rule.
Only with strength could one live, and only by living could one gain more strength.
‘I will become strong. Someday, I will.’
In those days, Yuribe was always hungry.
He had never once known what it meant to feel full.
That sensation — satiety — only came for the first time when he became an adult.
“Urk, urgh...”
It was the moment he killed a particularly foul-tempered overseer in the magic stone mine and absorbed his power.
‘Ahh...’
The rush of euphoria, the weariness washing away, the overwhelming force surging through his body.
It was an incomparable, all-consuming ecstasy — the first true pleasure Yuribe had ever tasted.
‘I want to feel it again. Just one more time.’
As if possessed, he hunted for his next prey.
And in the process, he realized something about himself:
‘I am a natural-born predator. A ruler meant to stand above all others.’
As time passed, his strength grew — and so did his horns, longer and more pronounced.
Even the powerful demons of his district bowed before him and begged for their lives.
“Gah!”
And once he felt confident in his power,
Yuribe killed the baron who governed District 1,999 and took his place.
“......”
As a noble, he finally gained the wealth and luxury he had always dreamed of.
No longer did he have to worry about his life being snuffed out like a candle in the wind.
In District 1,999, he was god and king.
His rise was so meteoric, one would never guess he came from slave labor.
But Yuribe was not happy.
‘Is this what it means to live a happy life?’
It felt as though a great hole had been punched through his chest.
No matter how many tribute stones he devoured, the emptiness never went away.
Instead, his thirst and hunger only grew with each passing day.
‘Strength matters more than life...’
Yuribe wanted to become even stronger.
He wanted to trample the weak and watch everyone worship his overwhelming superiority — more, and more, and more.
To be content as a mere baron would be a waste of his potential.
‘I’m still starving.’
Eventually, he left District 1,999 and began wandering the entire Demon Realm.
He devoured every monster he came across and brought countless strong foes to their knees.
His monthly tribute grew, and with it, his power grew even faster.
Even after he was granted the title of viscount, the thought of stopping never once crossed his mind.
“Stop.”
It was a count-level demon who finally brought him to a halt.
The one who had come to find him left a warning.
“Don’t expand your territory any further.”
“...!”
Yuribe was shocked.
Not because the count was stronger than him — though he was —
but because of the aura he exuded, a unique brilliance as though he had painted his own color onto the grey wasteland.
The count was so extraordinary, he almost seemed to shine.
Yuribe envied that deeply.
‘I want to be like him — that strong, that unique.’
Reading Yuribe’s honest desire, the count spoke again.
“A war is coming soon. If you want to grow stronger, do it there.”
Just as he said, a war soon broke out.
Yuribe crossed the Red Mountains and fed on countless humans, growing stronger with each one.
The sensation of becoming stronger was always thrilling — always new.
‘Demons are superior. Humans are mere livestock.’
Yuribe and most demons were utterly convinced of their victory.
After all, they had the Great Emperor —— on their side.
Yuribe had seen him only once, from a distance, but even that glimpse had shown him a power beyond comprehension.
‘There’s no way someone like him could lose. No human could possibly compare.’
But then, someone unleashed a power that turned the ashen sky pure white —
and on that day, the Great Emperor fell.
The culprit was the White Mage — the humans’ beacon of hope and the demons’ greatest fear.
Shocked to their core, the demon army was forced into retreat.
They had no choice but to return to the Demon Realm and plan their next move.
Even then, Yuribe never stopped growing.
‘This kind of disorder is exactly what I’ve been hoping for.’
The command structure of the demon army, having lost its leader, was on the verge of collapse.
Seizing the opportunity, Yuribe swiftly traveled across the Demon Realm, expanding his territory at an alarming pace.
Thanks to his efforts, Yuribe finally reached a level he was satisfied with.
Not long after, the newly appearing “Grand Duke” bestowed upon him the title of Count.
‘I’ve finally reached the position I aimed for.’
All the livestock beyond the mountains should be kneeling and bowing before him.
Yuribe opened his eyes wide.
“...Power is more important than life.”
Oscar looked at Yuribe with his eyes lowered.
“You demons always say things like that.”
His gaze slowly shifted to the side.
His opponent was a level 8 powerhouse, and not just that — a beastkin known for having a sturdy body.
‘A being like that could easily withstand this kind of attack, even without a single shred of energy left.’
That’s why Oscar didn’t aim for the neck.
Slice!
A clean cutting sound rang out, and something fell.
Yuribe’s wide-open eyes slowly followed it, like rolling marbles.
“...”
It was a horn.
The demon’s horn — their storage for demonic energy and the source of their strength.
One of them had been cleanly severed and was falling beneath the sky.
“You always scream about how power is everything, but when it really counts—”
Oscar tapped the back of his own neck lightly.
“—you always choose your life instead.”
“...”
Yuribe couldn’t bring himself to speak.
He could feel a portion of the strength he’d built up until now scattering like dust.
This wasn’t just about running out of demonic energy.
It was something far more devastating.
‘My horn... my horn...?’
Humans, from level 7 and beyond, must gain insight to break through their limits.
But demons don’t require such a process.
They can become endlessly stronger by simply stacking brute force.
Conversely, it was just as easy for them to lose it.
Like now.
“Wow, it’s eating well. Must be a shame to lose that.”
The falling horn was snatched and absorbed by the roots of the “Mountain Eater” drifting in the air.
Oscar let out a grin as he watched.
“If that chunk was cut off... you’ve probably dropped to mid-level 7, right?”
“I’ll discard it.”
Yuribe muttered.
“I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you.”
His bloodshot eyes locked onto Oscar.
He had never felt this furious in his entire life.
“I’ll kill you, bastard!”
Consumed by rage, Yuribe stretched out his hand toward him.
But faster than him, a root from below shot up.
“What can I say? I guess you tasted pretty good.”
Having had a taste of Yuribe, the root showed no intention of letting him go.
“Grrk!”
If he fought Oscar here, he might be able to kill him, but he’d die afterward as well.
Overcome with rage, Yuribe trembled and muttered:
“...I promise. I don’t care about the others. But you... I’ll cross the mountains myself and kill you.”
“Do as you please.”
Feeling his magic rapidly depleting, Oscar snapped his fingers.
“Time to leave my world, Baron-class demon.”
“You damn—!”
In the next moment, just as Yuribe was spewing curses, both he and the root of the Mountain Eater were ejected from the world.
“...Phew.”
Oscar let out a shallow sigh.
‘A level-8 Count-class demon... Would’ve been nice if I could’ve killed him.’
But he couldn’t afford to go all out.
His allies were in no shape for a prolonged battle.
The enemy had simply run out of demonic energy, but his side was exhausted in both magic and body.
‘If only I had more mana...’
He had spent an enormous amount of magic luring the Mountain Eater.
And then again, he burned a massive amount freeing the world from Yuribe.
In other words, he himself was not in a condition to continue fighting.
‘No need to be greedy. Honestly, it's a miracle no one died.’
He had fulfilled his initial objective.
Swallowing his regret, Oscar looked around and began to dispel the world.
From the mountain ridge, now fully lit by dawn, neither Yuribe nor the roots of the Mountain Eater were visible.
— Boom! Boom!
Powerful explosions echoed from not far away.
Sensing the energy, Oscar let out a chuckle.
‘Running with his tail between his legs. Looks like he’s heading toward the first peak.
Once he reached that place, the power of the roots would weaken, making escape easier.
Oscar quickly turned to his companions.
“Is everyone alright?”
“...Huh, do I look alright? Because I really don’t.”
“Well, if you’re still joking, I’ll take that as a good sign.”
He pulled out a top-tier potion from his subspace and handed it to Oran.
Gulping it down in one go, Oran felt his ribs reattach and sighed in relief.
“My little brother saved me. That guy really is a monster.”
“No time for jokes.”
Kaya, who approached with one arm dangling uselessly, cut in.
Oscar tossed her a potion and nodded.
“Kaya’s right. While the Mountain Eater buys us time, we need to cross the range.”
“Tch. So we’re leaving those Black Finger bastards behind?”
“They’re not the priority right now.”
He also handed a potion to Sasha, who was standing with her head bowed.
“Tower Master?”
“...”
Without a word, she took the potion and turned to prepare for departure.
Watching her, Oscar’s eyes narrowed.
‘Shrunken shoulders, empty eyes, unstable mana flow...’
It wasn’t a good sign.
This was the classic symptom of inner demon affliction.

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