The Demon King's Shadow
The only option left was to make do with my own body. It was late at night, and with most of the troops asleep except for the sentries, I sat inside the barracks, wide awake. Fortunately, ever since becoming the Hero, going a day or two without sleep wasn't much of a problem. That didn't mean I could completely ignore the sensation of fatigue, though. If I could, I would have lain down right then and there—the thought kept circling endlessly in my mind. Yet despite that, I was in no position to rest. I had only wanted to blend in with the main army and sip at the honey like everyone else, but somehow I had ended up as the vanguard. This sudden stroke of misfortune had forced me into staying up all night like this.
Damn it… How the hell did I end up in this mess?
If I had been charging out alone as vanguard, I wouldn't have had to worry like this. The combat power of a Hero capable of defeating even the Demon King was no mere decoration, and with my equipment fully prepared, I could have ignored incoming spells and arrow barrages with ease before leaping onto the walls to slaughter the enemy. In short, I could have charged straight into the heart of their formation and carved a path of carnage. But that personal strength came with its own problem: the hundred demons assigned as my direct subordinates would inevitably follow right behind me. It wasn't a large number, yet it wasn't small either. If they were wiped out or suffered heavy casualties, no matter how many enemies I slaughtered, my reputation would plummet for recklessly sacrificing my own kin.
Honestly, I'd rather just leave them holed up inside the camp, but if I don't use the troops I've been given, that'll cause problems of its own…
Regardless of the circumstances, these soldiers had been granted to me as a gesture of goodwill. Ignoring that favor would only invite accusations of ingratitude. Caught between two impossible choices, the hundred demons had become a classic white elephant—too awkward to use, too risky to ignore. In the end, there was only one conclusion I could reach.
I'll just have to protect them with my own body.
Unlike ordinary warriors, I was essentially the strongest being in this world. Protecting my demon subordinates while fighting was well within my capabilities. On top of that, the abilities I possessed as the Hero weren't limited to myself alone. I had quite a few so-called "buff" skills from the game, and some of them could be used on nearby allies. They wouldn't multiply the demons' strength exponentially, but at the very least, they wouldn't die to stray arrows. Of course, this meant I would have to calculate perfect skill timings to minimize casualties, personally intercept any attacks I couldn't cover, and strike down enemies at the right moments—all while maintaining that frantic pace. It promised to be an exhausting battle that would leave me breathless, and thorough preparation was absolutely necessary.
Yet despite these burdens, I refused to stop striving for the most perfect plan possible. For my own gain and survival… and more than that, to fulfill the duty that came with holding so many lives in my hands.
One wrong decision from me could kill dozens. I have to make sure that never happens.
*
Beneath a clear blue sky without a single cloud, nearly thirty thousand lives—enemy and ally alike—stood in formation with weapons raised, ready to kill one another. Twenty thousand demons prepared to advance outside the fortress. Seven thousand coalition soldiers inside, determined to stop them at all costs. Both armies felt the tension rising as they braced for the coming bloodbath.
Then—
"All forces, advance! Sweep away those pathetic humans!"
The one who shattered the suffocating atmosphere was Samson, the demon legion commander and supreme commander of the army.
"Uwaaaah!!!"
"Advance!"
"Reclaim Antioch!"
"Death to the coalition dogs!"
At Samson's command, the demon soldiers surged forward without hesitation. Watching the tide of enemies approach, Pharisect stood atop Antioch's walls, his gaze cold as he surveyed the battlefield.
"Who's leading their vanguard? Can you identify them?"
"My apologies. I honestly can't tell."
Pharisect had asked one of the soldiers with particularly sharp eyesight. The man answered with a troubled expression, prompting Pharisect to question him further.
"Why not? At this distance, you should be able to recognize their vanguard. You've never failed before."
"You're right, sir. But… I truly don't know. That commander at the front—I've never seen anyone wearing that armor or wielding that weapon."
The warrior clad in black armor from head to toe, greatsword in hand, had roughly a hundred demons following close behind him. Even so, the soldier couldn't identify who the enemy vanguard was. Judging by the circumstances, this was clearly a newcomer. A faint sense of relief flickered across Pharisect's face as he prepared for a difficult battle.
Thank goodness it's not someone like Samson. If that bull-like brute isn't leading the charge, we might still have a chance to seize the initiative.
If they could deal with the enemy vanguard quickly, the demons' momentum would crumble just as fast. From Pharisect's perspective, the fact that their vanguard was some unknown rookie was a very positive development.
If he's inexperienced in war, he'll panic easily. Once that happens, their entire force will collapse on its own.
Having made his assessment, Pharisect immediately issued orders as supreme commander.
"Begin the attack! Send those filthy demons straight to hell!"
With Pharisect's command finally given, the soldiers unleashed their prepared assault on the approaching demons.
"Fire!"
Their target was, of course, the enemy vanguard charging at the very front. Countless arrows rained down from the walls, flying with near-perfect accuracy toward them. A deadly downpour reminiscent of a storm. The barrage of razor-sharp, mana-infused steel arrows would strike the vanguard head-on and inflict devastating damage.
Yet…
"Huh?"
"What the—?"
In that instant, the Antioch soldiers witnessed something that made their eyes widen. Even from this distance, they could clearly see the black aura swirling around the greatsword of the figure leading the charge. An inexplicable pressure radiated from him despite the range. As that ominous presence surged forth, the vanguard swung his blade straight into the incoming arrow storm.
Then—
Flash!
A single black streak of light erupted with enough force to cleave the sky itself, smashing into the rain of arrows that had been pouring toward the demons.
"Wh-what…?"
"H-how is that possible…?"
The soldiers of Antioch—and their commander, Pharisect—felt their bodies freeze in shock as the entire volley of death vanished in an instant. The attack they had been certain would land had been effortlessly erased, leaving a heavy dread in their hearts and paralyzing their ability to respond quickly.
However—
"Kuh! Everyone, stay calm! If arrows won't work, prepare spells! Bombard them the moment they're in range!"
"Y-yes, sir!"
"Understood, General!"
At Pharisect's sharp command, the soldiers barely managed to regain their composure and prepare for the next attack. The magic corps, centered around mages and priests, began forcing their bodies to move and chant despite still reeling from the previous sight. Colorful magic circles formed before their hands—spheres of fire, ice, wind, and holy power. Though their range was shorter than arrows, each contained far greater destructive force.
"Fire!"
At Pharisect's order, the spells launched toward the front lines. Though he hadn't said it aloud, every single one of those countless magical attacks was aimed at the black-armored vanguard who had just destroyed their arrows. It was a concentrated assault born from fear. Their instinctive terror drove them to pour attacks capable of annihilating dozens—or even over a hundred—enemies onto a single target.
Yet…
"!!"
"Wh-what the hell?"
The vanguard leapt into the air and charged straight toward the incoming spells. The soldiers of Antioch stared in disbelief, an unknown pressure gripping them. Charging headfirst into magical bombardment instead of dodging it was clearly madness. But in that moment, a single word surfaced in their minds.
Don't tell me…
The shock from what they had just witnessed fueled the thought. As if answering it, the vanguard swung his sword at the spells flying toward him.
Then—
BOOOOOOM!!!!
A deafening explosion echoed across the battlefield. In the aftermath, the soldiers saw the black-armored monster descend unharmed and continue his terrifying advance toward them. It was a sight far more shocking than the black flash that had erased the arrows. A chill like a blade of ice pierced their chests. One man had neutralized an artillery barrage that should have been effective against an entire army. Their hearts constricted as a single, undeniable truth surfaced in their minds.
"Th-that's…"
"N-no, it has to be. The armor color is different, but… that can only be…"
They knew of only one being capable of such power with a single swing of a sword—the figure that had never left their memories through countless wars.
"The… Demon King…?"