What a Bountiful Harvest, Demon Lord!

Chapter 3: How to Fix Nitrogen (2)

Nitrogen.

In South Korea, it was an expensive substance often sold as the main ingredient in snack bags. In nature, it was an essential and fundamental component necessary for protein synthesis in plants.

Without nitrogen, plants couldn’t grow.

Without nitrogen, nothing could be done.

They simply couldn’t survive at all.

Ironically, however, plants couldn’t use the nitrogen that made up 78% of the atmosphere in its natural state. They couldn’t go to a supermarket, swipe a card, and inhale a snack bag filled to the brim with nitrogen.

The reason was simple.

‘Plants can’t get credit cards issued… no, it’s because the triple bond in the molecular structure holding nitrogen together is too stable. Plants can’t break that bond, so no chemical reaction takes place.’

Kim Jangcheol searched his memory.

To him, it was basic knowledge.

Thus, in their natural state, plants used nitrogen dissolved in soil in the form of compounds like ammonia or nitrites.

And what did humanity do once it realized that?

They developed chemical processes to farm like pros. Through nitrogen fixation methods, they began mass-producing ammonia-based nitrogen fertilizers in factories. Thanks to that, the global population, which hovered around a billion in the early 20th century, skyrocketed to several billions in just a few decades.

‘…Not like I can use that method here.’

There were no factory facilities.

No electricity either.

He couldn’t even get ahold of root nodule bacteria—the kind that fixed nitrogen into the soil. So he had to rely on another natural principle of nitrogen fixation.

That was lightning.

‘When lightning strikes, the high voltage oxidizes nitrogen into nitrites, which mix into rainwater and get absorbed into the soil.’

That method fixed around 9 million tons of nitrogen into Earth’s soil annually. It was the secret behind the lush green forests and fields long before humans began fertilizing the land. So now, the method he intended to use was…

‘Bloody Lightning, Credos’s signature move.’

Kim Jangcheol clenched his fist tightly. The Demon Lord Credos, final boss of Paladin of Blood. He remembered all the times he died to Bloody Lightning while playing the game.

A blood-red bolt.

A terrifying surge.

The windup was brief.

The casting motion even shorter.

And it activated instantly—an infamously brutal main skill!

“…Zephyros, stand back.”

He gave the order.

Just in case Zephyros got caught in the lightning’s path.

He took a step forward, steeling his resolve. He recalled how Credos had cast Bloody Lightning in the game. He mimicked the motion exactly. Raised his left hand. Sharpened the nails of his right. Scratched the back of his left hand. Quickly. Decisively. Without a trace of hesitation.

‘Bloody!’

Chzzzzak!

His sharp nails tore straight across the back of his hand.

And with it came a surge of excruciating pain!

‘…Graaahk!’

His eyes welled up instantly. Any hint of hesitation that hadn’t existed before suddenly bloomed. He hadn’t expected it to hurt this much. Then again, thinking about it, it was only natural. He had just sliced through living flesh about two centimeters deep with nails as sharp as nails themselves. If this had happened in the real world? He would’ve had to clutch his bleeding hand and dash straight to the nearest clinic.

‘Credos, that damn Demon Lord… did it hurt like this every time he used that skill?’

Being a Demon Lord clearly wasn’t for just anyone.

No—wait.

Maybe he enjoyed it. That bastard.

Was he that kind of deviant?

All sorts of thoughts raced through his head. It was just one single cast, and it already hurt this much just to cut the back of his hand. If he was going to fix nitrogen, he would need to summon lightning at least several hundred times. He’d have to keep doing this. The thought alone made his vision blur. He was even tempted to look for another method instead.

But.

‘Still… it’s better than dying!’

Die at the hands of Aged Kimchi after invading the human realm?

Or get sliced up by the Four Great Demon Generals for hesitating?

A little sting on the back of his hand sounded like the better deal. If it meant succeeding in farming, then so be it.

Kim Jangcheol clenched his molars tight.

Chzzzak!

He slashed deeper across the back of his hand.

Had he severed a vein?

Dark red blood gushed out.

Without hesitation, he flung it wide.

‘Lightning!’

The cursed blood of the Demon Lord scattered in an arc, following the path of his outstretched hand like a crimson fountain. It dyed the air.

And at last—

Splatter splatter.

It landed on the ground with dull, wet thuds.

That was all.

Nothing happened. The blood-red lightning? Didn’t fall. The dramatic arc of blood he’d thrown with such flair ended up merely speckling the barren soil in front of the Demon Lord’s castle.

“…Kuh, sss… ah… damn it…”

All that pain, and for what?

It was just disgustingly painful.

He was nearly brought to tears.

But through the pain, Kim Jangcheol came to a realization.

‘Did… it fail?’

It seemed that way.

It was said that Credos’s blood was so heavily imbued with the Demons’ innate destructive instinct that it bordered on the abnormal. That simply scattering his blood would cause a destructive bolt of lightning to fall automatically.

But now?

Nothing like that had happened. Even though he had copied the technique exactly as Credos had performed it in the game, the result was nothing.

‘Why?’

There had to be a reason. Of that, he was sure. But he wasn’t given the time to figure it out. Because suddenly, a voice from behind interrupted his thoughts.

“O Demon Lord Credos. Are you… feeling unwell, perhaps?”

“…!”

It wasn’t Zephyros’s voice.

It had that distinctive tone, like rusted steel being scraped.

The moment he heard it, chills shot down his spine.

He turned his head in a panic, before he could even think.

And there stood Asurat, one of the Four Great Demon Generals.

He held a saw-like blade, made of dark-red veins and tendons, openly in hand. His eyes shifted back and forth between Kim Jangcheol and the specks of blood on the ground, which had just been scattered in vain. His gaze was nothing short of ominous.

“……”

What was the right thing to say in a situation like this?

Words caught in his throat. Seeing the other members of the Four Great Demon Generals—Sirgi and Hartok and Baal—lined up beside Asurat made his tongue stiffen even more.

“I…”

Still, he had to say something. If he stammered or fumbled now, they’d see it as weakness. He’d die. He couldn’t let that happen. He refused.

But whatever he was about to say was cut off by Asurat’s chilling smile.

“O Demon Lord. You are well aware of the laws of our kind, yes?”

“What?”

“The strong is the Demon Lord.”

“……”

“Hence, I find myself questioning it.”

“……”

Blatant.

It was far too blatant.

The way the bastard looked at him. His tone. The faintest movements—every single one of them reeked of killing intent. No, this was beyond that. Those were the eyes of a predator gazing upon prey.

And because of that, he understood.

That bastard had chosen this day.

He’d already measured everything.

‘Shit.’

He didn’t expect one of the Four Great Demon Generals to bare his fangs this openly, this soon. So what now? What should he do? He had to think. But everything was happening too fast. Asurat had already taken a step forward.

‘……’

It was just one step closer, and yet the crushing pressure hit him like a wave. Was this what it felt like to be face-to-face with an overwhelming predator? It was on a completely different level compared to when he had looked down from the balcony earlier. The sheer realism of it flooded in as raw fear.

His shoulders trembled uncontrollably. His teeth chattered loud enough to hear. The corners of his eyes and the muscles in his cheeks twitched violently. This isn’t right. If I let it show, it’s over. That was what he kept telling himself. But the trembling wouldn’t stop.

It was thanks to that, in a way.

Faced with Kim Jangcheol's reaction, the Four Great Demon General—the Prince Who Drinks Blood, Asurat—also tensed slightly.

'...As expected of the Demon Lord, Credos.'

That distorted face. The terrifying image of one already twitching at the eyes and trembling at the shoulders from the immense magic power being gathered!

'He seems weaker than before, somehow... but still, that pressure is not to be taken lightly. However...'

Crack!

Asurat bared his fangs with a sneering grin.

"Can you defeat all four of us now?"

That was right. He wasn’t alone. If all four Great Demon Generals attacked together? Credos, whose former strength had clearly waned, would be reduced to a ragged corpse and wouldn’t escape death.

With confidence, Asurat glanced at the other Great Demon Generals who were to join him in today’s bloodbath. And then he saw it—those very comrades who had stood shoulder to shoulder with him just moments ago were now casually standing about 50 meters away!

"...Huh?"

Hey?

What the hell?

Why are you guys over there?

Weren’t we doing this together?

"......"

Baffled, Asurat questioned them with his eyes. The other Great Demon Generals, now standing far back, quickly shook their heads. The meaning was clear: This doesn’t feel right. We’ll watch you fight first, and if it looks doable, then maybe we’ll join.

'...You cowards!'

Asurat cursed at them with his eyes.

But the die had already been cast.

There was no turning back now.

"Demon Lord... Credos!"

Chwararak!

The veins and tendons entwined around Asurat’s sawblade sword connected back to his hand and forearm. He pointed the sawblade at Kim Jangcheol.

"Today! I, Asurat, the Prince Who Drinks Blood! Proclaim the Rite of Usurpation for the Demon Lord’s throne!"

He declared.

And at that moment, a part of the red sky began to tremble. The Rite of Usurpation, as proclaimed by Asurat. The sky over the forsaken land responded to that call.

The stormy black clouds split open. A colossal eyeball stared down upon the forsaken land. It fixed its gaze upon Asurat, who had officially declared the Rite, and Kim Jangcheol, the one challenged by the Rite. Their images, caught in the bloodshot eye's gaze, were broadcast vividly to all Demons dwelling in the forsaken land.

Then, Asurat kicked off the ground.

Fwoosh!

‘I… will win!’

A fierce smile spread across Asurat’s lips.

The Demon Lord was weakened.

Now was the only chance.

If he seized this opportunity, he would become the Demon Lord. He would claim the throne. He would lead the legions into the human realm. His name would be eternally honored in the annals of Demonkind.

The Four Great Demon General, the Prince Who Drinks Blood, began moving his sawblade sword with ruthless resolve.

"...!"

Kim Jangcheol’s eyes widened. A chill ran down his spine. He had to dodge. He had to do something. But his mind went completely blank.

‘Am I… going to die…?’

Most likely, yes. He was just a human at his core, while that bastard was a Demon—and one of the Four Great Demon Generals at that. It was the natural outcome.

Just as he was about to be consumed by despair—

Tat!

Asurat’s second step, as he charged, struck the ground.

At that moment, Kim Jangcheol saw it.

‘Huh?’

Asurat’s second step—the way his foot landed on the ground just now.

The direction of his toes…

‘…Outward?’

It was a familiar sight.

In an instant, it came to him.

The countless battles against Asurat in the game, where he had been shredded again and again. Through that, he had been forced to learn and memorize every one of Asurat’s movements.

‘That’s… the thrust from his dual-option opening pattern.’

Memory summoned reflex.

Reflex triggered reaction.

Reaction pulled instinct along with it.

Whoosh!

Kim Jangcheol, without realizing it, took a half-step back with his right foot.

He twisted his waist.

He leaned his shoulder away.

Immediately after—

Fwip!

Asurat’s lightning-fast thrust sliced past his chest. No—it merely sliced through air, striking nothing.

“What?”

Asurat’s eyes widened in astonishment.

Their gazes met in passing.

The bastard was stunned.

Seeing that expression, Kim Jangcheol understood.

‘This guy—every one of his movements… it’s the game itself.’

In that moment—

Ding-dong!

Asurat’s astonished form swept past Kim Jangcheol’s line of sight. And just above the demon, an unprecedented message suddenly appeared.

[Kim Jangcheol, you have come to understand part of this world’s foundational rules through your actions. In addition, through heightened concentration and awareness of these rules, you have successfully deflected a lethal attack in the most refined manner.]

[As a reward, part of the game system once used by playable characters will now be unlocked for you.]

[Targeting function, UNLOCKED!]

“…!”

He understood instantly.

What that message meant.

What kind of power it implied.

He raised his gaze.

Asurat, now clearly visible—preparing his next strike after realizing his attack had missed. And above him, a new marker appeared for the first time. A red square-shaped targeting reticle was fixed over him like a brand.

The meaning was obvious…

‘…Bloody!’

Chzzzzak!

He slashed open the back of his hand.

The pain surged in.

Blood spurted forth in a crimson arc.

He clenched his teeth hard.

He flung his torn hand outward.

The fresh blood splattered across the air, seizing the surrounding space.

And the moment Asurat, now marked by the targeting system, charged into that space—

Crack!

“Kruaaagh!”

The skill bound to targeting—Bloody Lightning—descended as a violent flash and engulfed Asurat.