177. Demon King and Hero
The interior of the tower was a maze.
Traps lurked everywhere, and monsters prowled every corner.
It was the epitome of a Demon King's tower.
But that very fact stirred an odd sense of incongruity in Balaf.
...Why?
It was far too different from the Flame Demon King's actions up to now.
The bastard had hidden his tower, even moved it to toy with humans. And yet this guy's tower was so textbook, so normal?
"Think about it—building a tower somewhere else is actually pretty simple. We've been the ones trapped by their so-called 'canon,' caught in reverse."
"So you're saying it's natural there aren't major changes inside, just a simple shift?"
"That's my take. Moving it? Honestly, that doesn't make sense. We just couldn't find it."
"Well, the mage's word is law, right? Now that we've found the tower, no doubt about it. Even if there are traps, I've got the confidence to smash through them all."
Gillian nodded along with Aina's words. Balaf agreed as well.
It was the stride of confidence. Just as he said, Balaf was certain he could crush whatever schemes the Demon King threw at him and sever the bastard's head with raw power.
"On to the next floor. Watch out for the Four Heavenly Kings."
"Speaking of which, they haven't shown up this time."
"They must've tucked tail and hid at the sight of our army."
"True. When Hillon and Daphne climbed the Erjest Mountains, it was just a search party. Now we've got a full legion."
The maze was long, and the monsters' levels were higher than expected. But that was it.
It wasn't enough to stop three Stars and 349 heroes. Especially not when one of those Stars was Balaf Disrod.
—!
A mana-reeking monster—no, demonic beast—split in half without even a scream.
In the midst of that sequence, Balaf tucked away his sense of incongruity.
Mana flowed through the entire tower, demonic beasts roamed. It was a Demon King's tower he'd visited countless times before. Caution was warranted, but there was no need to sense anything overly unusual.
That's what he thought.
Right up until they broke through the second-floor maze—which differed only slightly in structure from the first—and climbed the stairs to the third floor.
"......?"
"...Huh?"
"Eh?"
The stairs ended abruptly.
No door. No third floor.
Just an empty ceiling greeting them.
"...The ceiling?"
No way. Even a freshly summoned Demon King should have a tower with at least five floors, as far as he knew...
That's when he sensed the massive surge of mana.
"Trap!"
Balaf unleashed his aura, enveloping his body. Gillian did the same, as did the other heroes who'd sensed the anomaly.
"Aina!"
"Got it!"
Aina swiftly chanted her spell. A massive water barrier began to envelop the heroes.
And at that moment—
─────!
An explosion erupted.
Mana bomb?
Not a simple mana bomb. If it were, he would've detected it.
It's mixed with magic points.
More precisely, overlaid. Blended seamlessly with the magic points flowing through the entire tower, completely concealing its presence. Like a tree hidden in a forest. How the hell?
Balaf shelved the thought. The situation allowed no rumination.
All around—front, back, left, right.
And above and below. Bombs everywhere. Flames assailed from every direction.
The water barrier vaporized before the overwhelming firepower.
He cleaved the oncoming inferno in two. The moment he repelled the front assault, shocks hammered from all sides.
Heroes' blood and flesh were devoured by the flames. Their screams drowned in the blasts.
Auras melted away pathetically, whispering of death.
Yet Balaf did not fall.
He repaired his shattering aura. Once wasn't enough? Twice, thrice—he swung his sword.
The slashes he unleashed repelled the shocks. But only for a moment.
The heat and aura beyond its limits caused the sword to burst with a crack. Balaf hurled away the hilt that remained.
Then he opened his subspace.
───!
The sword cried out in ecstasy at the familiar energy. Its clear ring pierced even through the explosions.
The crimson blade hungered for the flames. It sliced, devoured, greedily absorbing every blaze.
Quarrrrumble—
Even as the tower crumbled and the explosion's aftermath battered beyond, the sword focused solely on filling its belly.
But the moment was too brief to swallow every flame, to block every blast surging toward the alliance.
One storm passed.
"Haha..."
Balaf let out a hollow laugh, feeling the sword's brimful heat.
It was devastating.
The tower had collapsed, and most of the heroes who'd entered were annihilated. Star Gillian Aint was half-melted; Aina Diaphrin had barely endured but fainted from mana exhaustion.
And the alliance army? What of them?
Steam from clashing snow and heat shrouded the area, but it couldn't veil his eyes. Inside was pure hellscape.
A knight with half his skin melted screamed.
A legless soldier crawled the ground.
A surviving hero clutched his charred comrade's corpse, wailing.
Bodies, screams, blood, despair, and agony.
A single explosion had wrought this.
The Flame Demon King had toyed with him and the humans once more.
And it wasn't over.
Flash—
Black light pierced the sky. It scattered in all directions, asserting its presence.
Rank magic points, sickeningly repulsive.
The filthy stench of monsters swelled from every side.
"Luring monsters after the explosion..."
He'd been had.
Utterly, completely had.
Why hadn't he considered this? Why hadn't he realized the tower itself was the trap?
It was inevitable!
Blood dripped from Balaf's clenched fist.
Who—what Demon King—would build a fake tower and use it as a trap?
What Demon King would devise such an intricate trap?
"...Come out."
Flames surged. Drinking its master's blood, it burned hotter.
Whoosh—
Crimson blaze cleaved the magic points, blocking their spread.
"Come out."
You goddamn Demon King bastard.
"Come out!"
It was empty rage.
Nothing but uncontrollable heat.
A grudge that wouldn't ease unless he struck, smashed, killed something right now—driving him to seek the Demon King more desperately than anyone.
And then, like a miracle—
───────!
The Demon King appeared.
* * *
Chocolate was sweet.
The perfect accompaniment while admiring the beautiful landscape he'd crafted.
"Well then."
The beautiful explosion swallowing the tower alongside it. Act One of his prepared stage had ended.
Now it was time for Act Two.
The wounded alliance clashing with magic point-lured monsters. It would be utterly brutal, beautiful, and entertaining.
"Jason Cockmond."
What face would he make upon hearing the results?
Would he rage openly like last time, or gloss it over in silence?
And what countermeasures would follow?
Target the golden moon again? Or hit the tower once more with the remaining heroes?
Whatever it was, it'd be fun.
No matter what he did, Berge would ignore it and press on with his current course.
"Who knew moving the tower could be this good."
The certainty that the tower would never be found had made him this bold.
No matter what he did, what chaos he unleashed, he could survive.
"Right, even if I kidnapped the empire's crown prince again..."
Do...
Berge shut his mouth. His gaze returned below, to the stage he'd set.
Disgust, revulsion, nausea, and hatred welled up.
An uninvited guest had arrived. Towering flames pierced the magic points from the sky. That power, that aura—it was all too familiar to Berge.
Something he'd never forget in a lifetime.
"The red sword."
The one that rent his scales.
"The red sword."
The one that pierced his heart.
"The red sword!"
That very blade.
That aura. That savage hero-slaying—no, dragon-slaying power.
He spread his wings.
He took to the skies. Sword-cr imson flames trailed a long arc. He plummeted vertically toward the stage's center.
───────!
Two different flames collided.
Unresolved shockwaves ravaged the surroundings.
"...You."
Berge growled.
"Where'd you get that sword?"
"You."
Balaf glared wide-eyed.
"You're the Demon King. You're the Flame Demon King, aren't you?"
Berge didn't hide his magic points. Balaf felt their viscous weight.
Their eyes met.
"Balaf Disrod?"
A name floated in Berge's mind. But it was different. This wasn't the hero who'd pierced his heart and mocked him in the past.
But that sword—it was real. The aura it emitted was unmistakable.
No mistake. He couldn't misfeel it. He'd relived it endlessly, even in dreams.
So then.
It's just in this guy's hands for now.
There was a decade between his death and now. A new hero emerging, the sword changing hands—it wasn't strange.
Yeah, that's normal.
But that didn't mean he'd spare Balaf now.
Possessing that sword alone was reason enough to die.
And the same went for his opponent.
Demon King appeared. Kill.
Balaf Disrod's thoughts converged in an instant.
"Why's a Demon King bastard like you interested in this sword?"
Just a flicker of puzzlement at the Demon King's final question, stalling his boiling rage momentarily.
"You answer when I ask. That's how it works."
"I'm asking you. You Demon King shit. Lured us into a trap, now you're so full of yourself you can't tell heads from tails?"
"What?"
"Seems you've got one hell of a misconception."
Balaf took a bold step forward.
"I haven't killed you yet, let you get the drop on me—not 'cause you're stronger."
You coward.
"It's 'cause you pull shitty tricks like hiding towers and digging traps."
"I see."
Berge chuckled dryly.
Sword-crimson flames enveloped his body.
"Too chatty with a bug in front of me. Should've just started by killing you."
"Scared so bad, anyone'd think you're a Demon King who's been around a century."
The first to move was—
The great hero.
Whoosh—
In an instant, he was at Berge's nose.
Flames that couldn't keep up traced a belated crimson arc.
────!
Flame met flame, entwining.
Sword halted by sharp claws. Dragon aura bit into dragon aura.
—!
Unresolved shocks rippled outward. Just before they fully dissipated, Berge thrust his other hand.
Scraaaape—
The sword slipped free like water from his grip. He deflected the other hand too.
The shock pushed his body back slightly. Using the recoil, he swung wide. A space-rending slash targeted the Demon King.
───!
A wall of surging flames blocked it. But it shattered soon after. Dimensional interference bolstered the hero, designed to erase otherworldly existences.
The wall vanished. But no Demon King behind it.
Above.
Balaf thrust his sword skyward, clashing with the vertically spewing flames.
Balaf kicked off the ground. Shot up like a cannonball, cleaving the flames in a straight line. At its end waited a fist clad in scales.
──!
He crashed down twice as fast as he'd risen. From the billowing snow and dust, Balaf surged again.
Flames propelled him, accelerating once more.
—!
—!
Sword clashed with claws. Fist with sword, fist with fist, foot with foot—they assaulted each other.
Space tore, air shimmered. Flames, aura, mana, interference—all tangled.
Berge revealed a glimpse of his true form. Sword-crimson dragon scales covered his skin.
The honed, refined dragon-slaying sword tore the dragon scales. The momentary resistance created a tiny gap. Dragon claws grazed the hero's shoulder.
The excess energy carved a massive crater behind. The alliance caught in the aftermath screamed.
"...What the hell are you!"
As the battle dragged on, Balaf was swept by an eerie incongruity. Questions flooded his mind.
Why?
How could a Demon King of merely two years wield this power?
Why?
Why was dimensional interference so ineffective? It targeted otherworldly beings, the world's will to protect itself.
It wasn't absent, but against a Demon King, it was woefully inefficient.
Unless it was a monster that had survived eons, earning the dimension's acknowledgment...
Impossible.
A Demon King summoned just two years ago, acknowledged by the dimension? No such thing could exist.
So he had to.
Kill him here.
The thought of capturing and interrogating was gone. If he didn't kill now, it'd return as a massive threat. His instincts, honed over decades as a hero, screamed warnings.
Crack—
He twisted the sword, severing the magic point flow. Flames and aura mixed. He stabbed the rising energy into the flow's gap.
Rending space, targeting the Demon King's vitals.
In that fierce wave, the Demon King steadied his breath. Blending magic points and mana into one form. Compressed solid, he opened his maw and unleashed.
────!
Two forces collided.
The world shook.
Berge's body twisted in midair, unable to fully dissipate the shock.
The deflected wave erased an entire mountain peak.
Impossible.
His breath hadn't fully blocked the hero's strike.
The savage blade pierced the magic points, raking flesh. Dragon-slaying aura stripped scales; the cold edge dug into skin.
No fatal wound, but this power beyond expectations halted his thoughts.
This is a hero who's killed just one Demon King?
No way.
No matter the decades as a hero.
No matter the decades hailed as the greatest.
Humans had limits.
Demon Kings had limits too.
Hillon Kargil, no matter decades more effort, couldn't catch this man.
Kill more Demon Kings? Still couldn't surpass him.
It was conviction, not speculation.
Berge's two years weren't ordinary.
Absorbing Phoenix's corpse to awaken mana.
Absorbing Vivian's tower to boost efficiency.
Devouring Dragon Heart to fuse two powers perfectly.
He was equal to—or beyond—his pre-regression self, with over half his interference released.
That's why he was confident. Confident he could overwhelm anyone one-on-one.
Yet Balaf Disrod. What the hell was this hero?
"You."
Berge muttered lowly.
"How many Demon Kings have you killed?"
"And you— are you really the Flame Demon King?!"
Mutual doubts were devoured by killing intent.
Balaf Disrod ground out fresh aura. Interference layered atop.
Berge didn't retreat—instead, he honed his energy anew. Dragons were great because they were dragons. Dragons must be draconic.
And Berge was a dragon.
The two unrelenting forces clashed.
Devouring everything.
* * *
In the massive crater where the aftermath settled.
"...You cowardly bastard!"
Balaf roared from the center.
"A Demon King running away...!"
His heaving chest bore clear claw marks.
Not deep, but definite.
End of 177. Demon King and Hero