To Ensure the Demise of the Holy Saint Lucretia
Absolute Defense
The vast torrent of holy power that had swallowed Lampas City had slain every last monster and mended every wound inflicted upon the city’s citizens.
“Body’s healing…!”
“It’s the Hero’s power!”
Many still remembered the Kim Jae-hyun of ten years ago.
Naturally, only ten years had passed, so it was only right that so many recalled him.
Countless people had died, countless loved ones had been lost to grief, yet the first emotion on their faces was relief that they themselves were still alive—and joy at the Hero’s return.
Not everyone rejoiced, however.
Holy Saint Lucretia had arrived in Lampas City later than the others and now listened intently, seeking the source of the overwhelming holy light that had just erupted.
‘Hero…!’
She prayed silently that the nightmare had not come true—Hero Kim Jae-hyun alive. She begged that even if this miracle had been wrought by the Holy Sword, some other hero must have appeared instead of him.
“Saint!”
“The Saint has come!”
The citizens of Lampas City had welcomed the Saint and her knights and priests rushing toward them, yet they had not cheered. The monsters were already dead, felled by the Hero’s Holy Sword.
‘Please…!’
But the reactions of the citizens meant nothing to Lucretia. She could not bear the thought that the being who had unleashed the miracle moments ago was not Jae-hyun. Her hope shattered like glass.
The city lay in ruins, flames licking at every corner. Yet the mages had already turned their water-attribute spells upon the blaze, and the fires were steadily dying.
Through the dying flames, amid the wreckage, stood a single figure.
A beautiful youth with jet-black hair and crimson eyes clutched the Holy Sword and stared straight ahead.
‘Kim… Jae-hyun!’
It was unmistakable. The Hero Kim Jae-hyun.
A cold smile curled his lips as he looked upon her. Behind him, a boy and a girl in robes appeared—likely his companions.
“Ah…”
Holy Saint Lucretia staggered.
“Saint!”
A priestess at her side rushed forward to steady her. Her own face was pale, though not nearly as drained as the Saint’s.
She remembered that day too—the moment they had betrayed the summoned hero from another world.
‘He was supposed to be dead!’
‘How…?’
The scene had been littered with soldiers, knights, and priests. They had all witnessed the betrayal.
The Hero and the Saint had not seen each other in ten long years.
And Jae-hyun closed the distance in a blink no eye could follow, bowing before her.
“Heh… Long time no see, Lucretia.”
As soon as the Saint appeared, the knights drew their blades and surrounded him in an instant.
The sight horrified the onlookers. Yet the knights held firm, swords pointed without the slightest tremor.
They remembered the bloodied, broken man they had once fled from. They knew exactly what Irene had suffered at his hands.
They understood that they should hate him for his betrayal and the betrayal of every companion who had followed him.
But the citizens, who knew nothing of the truth, could only stare in bewilderment as the very knights they had once trusted now aimed their blades at the man who had saved them.
The world had hidden the day’s truth. It had told them only that the Demon King was slain at the cost of the Hero’s life. To them, the knights’ actions made no sense and sparked fury.
When the monsters rampaged and the city burned, the one who had come to save them had not been the Saint or her knights—but the Hero himself, Kim Jae-hyun.
In truth, Jae-hyun had deliberately unleashed a flicker of the Holy Sword’s power the moment Lucretia drew near, putting on a performance for the crowd. The citizens knew nothing of this. They had no idea that the man who had torched their city was the Demon King.
Worse still, the two young mages behind him had shielded the citizens with defensive barriers in the brief moments he channeled the Holy Sword’s energy, saving countless lives and slaying monsters to minimize casualties.
If even two hundred more citizens had survived, the numbers would have changed everything.
Moreover, those rescued citizens, believing the mages were his companions, could not help but feel warmer toward the Hero himself.
Even among those who had lived through the ten-year war, many still remembered the Hero’s final stand as the last hope when all seemed lost.
Furthermore, the highest-ranking figure in the clergy had been the Saint—yet the Hero’s station had always been above even the Pope’s.
To thrust swords at the Hero who bore the Holy Sword was not merely treason. It was an act of hubris, a challenge to the very order of the gods.
“So that’s how you appear, Saint.”
Jae-hyun smiled coldly. Lucretia’s blood ran cold at the sight.
He had changed astonishingly little. His hair and eyes remained the same; even his age looked untouched after ten years.
But the Kim Jae-hyun of ten years ago had never smiled with such merciless coldness. He had been cold, yes, yet never possessed by such burning, savage hatred.
The atmosphere was utterly different from ten years prior.
The black-haired youth before her was undeniably Hero Kim Jae-hyun, and the Holy Sword in his grip negated any doubt about his authority.
Resistance was pointless. She knew exactly how monstrously powerful he had become.
She herself, the Saint, had grown far stronger than in that era. Yet she doubted she could match the Hero’s level even now.
In truth, the Hero and his companions had been of vastly different strengths. Irene was the strongest among them, but she had never matched Laylana, the Red Demon King.
Lucretia had shown great power against Laylana’s high-ranking archdemons, yet Laylana’s own might had been beyond compare. The world had not exaggerated when it called her an indestructible monster that even the combined might of the entire Intermediate World could not defeat.
The Hero’s victory over such a Demon King—and his slaying of her—had left Lucretia unable to even imagine opposing him.
“…Are you here for revenge?”
Lucretia asked, voice trembling.
Jae-hyun smiled, a smile that seemed almost joyful.
“I intend to. I had no intention of revealing myself, but the monsters here have been unusually rampant. Perhaps a new Demon King has emerged and manifested in the Intermediate World.”
His voice spread outward, carried on the wind so every citizen could hear.
The crowd panicked.
“A new Demon King has manifested?!”
“What are we supposed to do?!”
“Still… the Hero is here, right?”
“Yes, the Hero is here!”
The citizens feared his words, yet they showed no signs of outright panic. They had been told he was dead; they could not understand how he stood before them. But the Holy Sword in his hand removed any suspicion, and no one doubted him.
Even the Holy Saint Lucretia could not suspect him while the Holy Sword remained drawn.
No one in the city suspected that the disaster they had suffered was his doing.
“I will no longer fight for this continent.”
He declared it plainly. Those who had clung to hope for him recoiled in shock. Lucretia bit her lip until it bled.
His crimson eyes fixed on her with icy mockery.
She had once admired the Saint—beautiful silver hair, sapphire eyes—though not with love. Irene’s radiant smile had stolen her heart during training. Had Irene not been there, she might have loved her. She had always regretted rejecting his confession.
After slaying the Demon King, she had hoped to return in secret and aid him from behind.
But she had betrayed him.
So now she would bury him completely in this world, then drag him through agonies so exquisite he would beg for death.
Death itself had crossed her mind, yet slaying him quickly would be too easy—too merciful. It would not satisfy her rage or fulfill her vengeance.
For the sake of her enemy’s ruin, she had prepared this place.
The returning Hero had saved the city, warned of the new Demon King’s threat, and then declared he would fight no more for the continent. And if the cause lay with his former companions—the betrayers?
The once-great Holy Saint would fall from humanity’s savior into humanity’s greatest villain.
“W-wait! Let’s talk for a moment!”
Lucretia realized the truth and pleaded for conversation. She had no idea what to say, yet she had to stop him, to persuade him somehow.
But Jae-hyun had already raised his hand toward the sky.
The Saint and her knights rushed to move, yet his aura slammed down upon them like an unbreakable binding spell. They could not so much as twitch a finger.
The truth of that day was projected across the city in vivid detail.
The Hero who had slain Laylana.
The Hero betrayed by his own companions on the orders of the Crown Prince who coveted Irene.
The Hero screaming why they had betrayed him.
The Hero whom Irene had sworn to protect until the end.
The soldiers, knights, and priests who had turned on him, surrounding and attacking him.
The Hero pierced through the stomach by William’s sword—the Gale Sword Emperor.
The desperate, sorrowful smile as he was forced into the narrow gap between the Holy Sword’s edge and the blade, knowing he could not cross it, while Irene was taken.
Every moment unfolded before the city’s eyes, complete with dialogue.
“I endured this… and I was still supposed to fight for the continent! Answer me! I was forcibly summoned from another world without consent, yet I fought for this continent and slew the Demon King! Was this the price?!”
For the first time in ten years of seething rage, Jae-hyun revealed his true feelings in a torrent of raw fury that felt like blood.
“The continent now belongs to those damned betrayers who cursed me! They forcibly brainwashed and stole Irene from me! I hate this continent. I will never fight for it again! One more thing—the probability of a new Demon King manifesting in the Intermediate World is extremely high. And Demon Kings grow stronger across generations. This one will be far more powerful than the previous Laylana. But if he destroys the continent, I will not care!”
No one spoke.
Jae-hyun could sense the change in the air and laughed at the world.
‘Doubt one another. Resent one another. Hatred will breed more hatred. Blame one another for everything.’
He had planted the seeds of chaos.
Absolute Domination
The citizens recoiled as the aura of utter control pressed down upon them. Yet none dared move.
Jae-hyun’s voice rang out, cold and absolute.
“Lucretia.”
The Saint’s name left his lips like a death sentence.
She had no time to speak.
Her body was already trapped, and the projection continued without mercy.
The scene shifted to the throne room of the Astraea Empire, where the Hero had been cornered by soldiers and priests. The Holy Saint herself stood among them, sword raised.
“You were supposed to be dead,” Lucretia said, voice shaking. “Why are you still here?”
“Because I chose to return,” Jae-hyun answered, voice flat. “And because I refuse to die at the hands of those who betrayed me.”
“You…!”
The Saint’s eyes widened in horror as the projection showed her own blade pressed against the Hero’s throat.
“Kill me if you must,” he said calmly. “But know this—I will not forgive you. And I will not forgive any of you who followed you.”
The blade trembled in her hand.
The projection faded, leaving only the ruined streets and the cold, crimson gaze of the Demon King.
“Speak,” he commanded. “What will you do now that you realize the truth?”
Lucretia’s lips moved, but no sound emerged.
She had lost everything.
The Hero she had once admired was now the Demon King.
The continent she had fought to protect now belonged to him.
And she, the Saint, had become the greatest traitor in human history.
The ruins of Lampas City fell silent under the weight of his presence.
Only the dying flames whispered of what was to come.