Demon Kings' Regular Meeting
"So this is teleportation magic."
As the light faded, the surrounding scenery spun rapidly. Like focusing on nearby objects from inside a speeding train, the landscape shifted swiftly, melting away like watercolor splashed with water. Then, as if a lens snapped into focus, the view sharpened, and they arrived in the heart of a lush, verdant forest.
"I figured the Demon Kings' meeting spot would be some gloomy hellhole, but it's pretty ordinary."
"Ignis just has peculiar tastes. The other Demon Kings prefer normal places, from what I've heard. Standing out too much would make them prime targets for heroes."
Ignis, alright. That guy was one of a kind even among Demon Kings.
As Kim Sung-tae chatted with Garba while walking through the forest, someone spoke up right beside him without a sound.
"You've arrived. Lord Ignis. Is the one beside you your adjutant?"
"Eek!? You scared me!"
"I've been here from the start."
The sudden speaker was an elderly man with snow-white hair slicked back, dressed impeccably in a butler's uniform. The monocle over one eye gave him the air of a noble from a storybook, but the pupil beyond that lens was the black sclera and red iris of a demon.
Cool. A Demon King's butler?
"Lord Ignis, allow me to greet you properly."
The old man adjusted his monocle slightly and bowed politely to the two of them.
"I am the butler in charge of overseeing the Demon Kings' gatherings. Demitrian is my name. When I heard you would be attending, Lord Ignis, I came to escort you personally."
"Mm. Thanks. That house over there—is that the meeting spot?"
"Yes, it is."
Kim Sung-tae asked while eyeing the massive mansion at the end of the mountain path. Demitrian answered, but he was stunned.
'Thanks?'
A thank-you. In all his years guiding countless Demon Kings to these meetings, he'd never heard one utter such words. Demon Kings were little more than corpses without their pride. To them, kindness wasn't something to be grateful for—it was simply expected from those who served them.
For the first time, the old man peered at Kim Sung-tae through his monocle, observing him closely.
'Not as imposing as the rumors say. I heard he wields fire magic, but I sense no heat at all.'
"If I may be so bold, are you truly Lord Ignis?"
"This one is no mere minnow. Mind your words. This is Kim Sung-tae."
Garba answered for him, but the butler seemed satisfied. Not Ignis, but another Demon King. And one who'd responded to the invitation sent to Ignis—there was only one possibility.
"Does that mean Lord Ignis is dead?"
"Indeed. Our lord slew that fool."
"I see."
"And the other Demon Kings as well."
As expected. So that's why he'd shown up out of the blue.
His red pupils narrowed thinly, locking onto Kim Sung-tae with unerring precision, as if determined not to miss a single move.
"What're you doing? Hurry up."
Unable to hide his excitement, Kim Sung-tae strode ahead toward the mansion, oblivious to their conversation.
The path to the mansion wasn't far. Kim Sung-tae, who had dashed ahead, grabbed the doorknob and shot the butler a look asking if it was okay to open it.
"You may enter, but... Kim Sung-tae, was it? Allow me to go first and clear up any misunderstandings..."
"Huh? What?"
The butler's trailing words—'that might be best'—were swallowed by the creak of the opening door.
Cool air seeped out from within, neither swift nor sluggish, like a gentle mountain breeze. But the phenomenon it wrought was anything but light.
"Urgh! What the—?!"
"My lord! Get back!"
"I'm fine—you get back."
The chilling wind swept relentlessly through the dense forest, leaving a trail of absolute desolation in its wake. Everything the freezing gale touched was instantly transformed into solid ice, hardening into a brittle, frozen state within seconds. Once-supple leaves plummeted from the branches like heavy stones, shattering upon impact with the ground as if they were made of fragile glass. This was no mere natural freezing; it was the manifestation of a terrifying mana that transmuted the very essence of life into everlasting ice—the power of the absolute, ultimate cold.
“Truly impressive. The whispers and rumors claimed you wielded a formidable flame, and it seems they were not mistaken. You remain completely untouched by the biting touch of my absolute, ultimate cold—now, I wonder, is that due to your own strength, or is it the protection of that armor you wear?”
"Ahh. Do we really need to fight? It's just the old ram's nonsense anyway. Playing along would be foolish."
"True. If we were gonna fight, why bother with a meeting? Wasn't this for us to get along among ourselves? Do we really need to let in some dangerous element?"
"I'm hungry..."
Voices echoed from the dim interior of the mansion.
Kim Sung-tae listened, then flopped down flat on his butt.
Inside, three Demon Kings sat around a long table. Each exuded a unique menace as they gazed indifferently at the fallen Sung-tae by the entrance.
"What is it? Scared already? For someone who plans to kill us, that's some weak nerve."
"Sudden attack must've drained him. Collapsing from that? He's weak for real. Bad matchup, maybe?"
"Hmph. That was a half-hearted strike."
"My lord! Are you alright!?"
Garba rushed over in worry. Kim Sung-tae grabbed the hand he offered. Garba felt intense trembling in the grip.
'My lord is shaking!?'
"Garba..."
"Yes, my lord!"
"...It's a sausage party."
"Pardon?"
A party? What? Garba leaned in closer to catch his lord's voice. And in a quavering tone, his lord replied.
"A sausage party.... No girls, just dudes."
＊＊＊
"Hnnnggg...."
A bizarre groan, like a squid squirting ink, pierced the silence and filled the living room.
The house had windows, but too few to properly light the vast interior. Yet those gathered were no ordinary folk—they were Demon Kings. Seeing through darkness posed no issue.
"What? No reaction at all?"
The one who'd frozen the forest cried out first in surprise. Ignis surely wielded apocalyptic fire mana, a perfect counter to his own. First strike should win, yet the black-armored figure kneeling motionless showed no sign of damage.
He was damaged. Just not where they thought.
"Why... a sausage party...? Why? Why? Where are the lady Demon Kings?"
"My lord! Are you alright?!"
Garba, attending at his side, hadn't expected Demon Kings to resort to such petty tricks. Three of them, ambushing no less. Unable to contain her rage, Garba's roar echoed through the mountains.
"How can you call yourselves Demon Kings and stoop to such cowardice!!!"
"Werewolf, huh? Step aside. I'll skin you after I deal with him. Love that black fur."
Garba's body suddenly stiffened, immobile. A strange man appeared beside her, stroking her fur. Goat legs, goat horns—he flicked out a long, slimy tongue like a slug.
"Hey, Crassus. He's not dead yet. Finish him quick."
"I'll handle it. I know it's dishonorable for a warrior, but I can't forgive such insolence."
"Iron. Even now, warrior talk?"
"And what are you doing, Demoniac? Can't shake old habits, huh? Distracted by a beastkin?"
Crassus. Iron. Demoniac.
Any sane person there would've fled for their life. Their names were infamous among humans—textbook-famous villains.
“Flower of the absolute, ultimate cold, I command you to bloom in all your frigid and majestic glory. Freeze Flower!”
The blue-haired man extended his hand. Ice erupted from the ground beneath Kim Sung-tae, forming a massive flower bud. His signature spell froze souls solid.
"I'll turn you into an ice statue for my collection."
Crassus was a being of absolute, ultimate cold. Once he had completely subjugated the ancient merfolk of the vast seas, he turned his sights toward the continent, invading with the sole intent of claiming the human realm for himself. His terrifying power was so immense that it could freeze even the flow of time itself, instantly transmuting all forms of life into eternal, frozen ice.
An immense surge of absolute, ultimate cold mana erupted from his body, the sheer force of it causing his vibrant blue hair to flutter wildly in the frigid aura. His icy crystal eyes—eyes as piercing and cold as the very frost they birthed—slowly turned to fixate upon the intruding Demon King with a gaze of frozen death.
"Hey. Who said you could? He's mine. You lot stay out."
"Didn't you already claim the werewolf?"
"Both are mine."
Blood-red mana erupted from the goat-man, petals drifting like roses on the wind—then striking like lightning, severing the ice flower's stem.
The bud crashed down. Beneath waited a sticky pool of blood for Kim Sung-tae.
"Kekeke. Even your ice melts in my blood, right? Ignis, was it? Curious what apocalyptic fire tastes like!"
Demoniac of blood love. He enslaved beastkin tribes in deep canyons, then invaded humans for the same. Blood met his gaze became his. His power dominated all blood nearby.
"All so hasty. Forgotten our pact already?"
A silver-muscled man kicked off the ground, snatching the falling bud. Ice that froze flesh on touch—he crushed it effortlessly against his chest.
His physical form was built to repel even the most absolute, ultimate cold: he possessed a resilient skin crafted of pure mithril, bones forged from indestructible orichalcum, and flesh harvested from the deepest, primordial layers of the earth.
His pupil-less silver eyes mirrored Kim Sung-tae like a looking glass.
"First, wake him. We'll dispose after my fight."
"Hey, Iron. Love fighting, sure, but stealing our prey?"
Iron of mighty arms. Born from abandoned mithril mines, unknown origins. Battle-hungry, he waged solo wars against humans—not conquest, pure combat. He lived to fight.
Three Demon Kings, each with histories of invading the human realm. All repelled by heroes.
"You lot back off. I struck first. He's mine to kill."
"Hilarious. I've been itching for this."
"Non-warriors stepping up now? He's my prey."
The trio bickered over claim to Kim Sung-tae. Garba's reply had enraged them—they had to be the ones to execute him.
"I'll kill him!"
"Everyone, calm down. He's not Ignis."
Demitrian, calmly watching, intervened. Only then did they realize: not Ignis, just an armored human. Faint Ignis mana clung, but barely.
"What? Just a human?"
"Ignis fooled us?"
"Tch. Sending a human, of all things..."
"No ordinary human. He slew Ignis."
"That's right! You foolish Demon Kings!"
Garba, still paralyzed, bellowed in fury. Her voice held denial of the reality.
"Our lord beat even Ignis! Effortlessly! Without your vile tricks... you could've never won!"
"Still, he lost. Admit your precious lord's done for?"
"Not quite, perhaps."
Demitrian's eyes gleamed through his monocle. Peering at Kim Sung-tae, he saw life force leaking from the armor's seams, vivid and immense.
'Incredible life force.'
Could all continent life match it? No. How did one human hold so much?
'No wonder no mana.'
Such life force would crush mana as impurity. Even if gained, it'd vanish under the pressure. Expert in life force, Demitrian wondered why Kim Sung-tae hadn't risen. Untouched by such power, he should've been unscathed—yet he lay there.
'Hm? This aura...'
"Time to kill him. Could be a hero, y'know. Ignis built his domain, got purged anyway. This guy's here to finish us off too. Ended up like this, though."
"Urgh! An ambush! And our lord's no hero!"
"...Noisy mutt. Freeze you?"
The bickering Demon Kings turned on Garba. She figured it was the end. Glancing at her unmoving lord, she summoned mana, breaking Demoniac's hold.
"Not bad? Tied you lightly, though."
"Urgh! My lord..."
She didn't want to believe it, but he'd lain still since. The ambush must've wounded him badly. His hand trembled when she grabbed it. Only one path: revenge with her life.
'My lord, forgive me. Should've prepared for ambush.'
Too much faith? Regret useless now. Sensing doom, Garba assumed combat stance. Mana surged, bulking her body.
The Demon Kings watched with interest—not pre-battle thrill, but a child's glee at a new toy. They grinned wickedly. Hoping to play long.
"Everyone, halt."
As the three and Garba geared to clash, Demitrian's voice stopped them. Mere butler, yet they obeyed. He pointed calmly at Kim Sung-tae.
"He's not dead yet."
"What? We didn't skin him, but he hasn't moved since..."
Demoniac trailed off. Black aura poured from Kim Sung-tae, eroding forest and earth.
Not mana, not life force—an unprecedented power, spreading impossibly fast. Even Demon Kings couldn't flee.
"Urgh! What is this!?"
"C-can't block it?"
"Never felt a power like this."
Slime-like, sticky, clinging. Its weight—like all world's despair—crushed them immobile.
The man emitting this ominous aura, Kim Sung-tae, murmured low enough for the hushed room to hear.
"I'm screwed...."