I Defeated the Demon King... Me?
The sight before Pharisect filled him first with pure bewilderment. The Demon King, pierced by the spear he had hurled with the last dregs of his strength. He had been certain the blow would be swatted aside like a child’s toy, yet it had defied every expectation and driven straight into the Demon King’s flank.
“Ugh! Y-you dare…!”
The Demon King’s voice was thick with pain. The moment Pharisect heard it, the bewilderment vanished, burned away by a surge of dark ecstasy.
Could it be? Did I truly do it? My strike… actually wounded the Demon King?
Even though he had done it himself, the reality refused to settle in his mind. Yet the fierce joy flooding through him was so overwhelming that Pharisect unconsciously raised his voice.
“The Demon King is injured! This great Pharisect has planted a spear in the Demon King’s body!”
He had no strength left to lift even a single finger after that final throw, but the intoxicating rapture gave him the power to bellow louder than he ever had in his life.
The soldiers around him heard the cry and rose in a frenzy, bodies trembling with violent excitement.
“General Pharisect… wounded the Demon King?”
“This is our chance! Kill the bastard now!”
The Demon King, who had been wielding overwhelming power, had shown a single instant of vulnerability. The soldiers’ eyes glazed with greed. They drew their swords and charged, each believing he could be the one to claim that legendary head. If they succeeded, every dream they had ever harbored would finally be theirs.
But then—
“Haaaaaaaah!”
The sharp roar exploded from the Demon King’s throat. A wave of raw power burst outward like a detonation. The frenzied soldiers froze mid-stride, unable to advance another inch.
“Khhk!”
“Damn it!”
Even so, their burning desire refused to die. They kept pressing forward. Perhaps the injury had truly weakened the Demon King; unlike before, he could no longer completely repel their movements. The soldiers reached striking distance, faces twisted with naked greed, and swung their blades with every ounce of violent longing in their hearts.
At that exact moment—
“Gaaahk!”
“Aaaaargh!”
Agonized screams erupted from behind them. The soldiers’ heads snapped around reflexively, and their expressions hardened into masks of shock.
“H-how did demons get this far?!”
“Tch! The Demon King’s royal guards? These bastards are strong!”
A group of demons had crashed into the fray. Their numbers were only around a hundred, yet the surprise attack—launched while every eye had been fixed on the Demon King—caught the soldiers completely off guard. Casualties mounted instantly.
While the soldiers’ attention was stolen by the sudden assault—
“Gaaahk!”
“The… the Demon King is escaping!”
With a spear still buried in his side, the Demon King swung his blade in savage arcs, carving through the soldiers blocking his path. He broke free, joined the guards who had rushed to his rescue, and began retreating from the battlefield.
“N-nooo!”
“Stop him! Arrows, magic—use anything! Do not let him escape!”
Pharisect and the soldiers shouted in panic, but it was already too late. The Demon King and his subordinates vaulted over the walls of Antioch like a receding tide, vanishing before any meaningful pursuit could be organized. A belated volley of arrows and spells flew after them, but they were already beyond reach.
In the end, the Demon King and his forces disappeared from Pharisect’s sight. He and his men stood frozen, tasting the bitter regret of watching prey they had nearly caught slip through their fingers.
Then—
“G-General! Look there!”
“! Th-this…!”
What they saw next struck them with a far heavier blow than the pain of losing the Demon King. While they had been distracted by his appearance, the demon legions had closed the distance and now stood at the very foot of the walls, launching attacks from every direction.
The massive demon army had used the brief paralysis of the human command structure to reach the ramparts with almost no losses. They surged upward with terrifying momentum, scaling the walls and pouring over them.
“Damn that filthy Demon King! To think he’d resort to such a cheap trick!”
These demons did not bother with ladders. They unfurled hidden wings and glided across short distances, leaping onto the battlements from every side. Even though he knew he was a step behind, Pharisect roared orders at once.
“Activate the Wall of Fire the mages prepared at once! We must halt their advance, even if only for a moment!”
“Yes, General!”
“The rest of you, bring every reserve we have! We have no time to hesitate! Hold them off for today at all costs!”
“U-understood, General!”
Despite crushing exhaustion, Pharisect commanded with everything he had. The Demon King’s scheme had forced him to expend his hidden trump cards, yet he refused to surrender. He had not won the vital post of defending Antioch through luck alone. Even now, his mind raced through calculations of the battle while he issued order after order without pause.
He dispatched reinforcements exactly where they were needed and triggered pre-prepared spells to seal off breaches. Though his heart was rotten with ambition and greed, his ability was genuine, and the sheer willpower born from that greed was not to be underestimated.
Thus, Pharisect and his soldiers barely managed to stabilize their crumbling lines and continued their desperate struggle.
Yet even as he fought, Pharisect’s mind was already spinning ahead to the future beyond today’s battle.
We were caught off guard by his scheme, but all hope is not lost. We took losses, yes, but I personally wounded the Demon King and forced him to flee. If so… even if Antioch falls tomorrow, there is still a way to turn this war around!
The Demon King was the enemy’s greatest asset. The news that he had appeared here and been gravely injured would draw countless opportunists like moths to a flame. Using that knowledge, Pharisect sent several subordinates slipping out of the castle even in the midst of combat, carrying the tempting report.
He would use the injured Demon King as irresistible bait to gather as many hunters as possible.
“Make way! Injured coming through!”
The hero and his direct subordinates returned to camp with a spear still lodged in his side. At the head of the group was Rebekah, supporting the unconscious hero and shouting urgently for the military physician.
The hero had single-handedly held off the enemy offensive, then charged straight into the heart of their formation, sowing utter chaos. Thanks to him drawing every ounce of attention and defense, Rebekah and the vanguard had scaled the walls with virtually no casualties, launched their surprise attack, and reaped the rewards.
Yet the price of that reckless bravery was the terrible wound the hero now bore.
He had burned himself as a shield so his subordinates could earn glory. The soldiers—including Rebekah—who had once regarded their commander with nothing but suspicion and unease were profoundly shaken by this selfless act. Without anyone ordering them, they carried the wounded hero straight to the medical tent and frantically called for the doctor.
The physician arrived moments later and immediately began examining the injury. He extracted the spear from the hero’s flank and began healing the wound with magic. Watching the doctor’s grim expression, Rebekah could only fidget anxiously, unable to sit still.
The hero had proven himself a true leader, devoting everything for their sake—completely unlike the man she had first doubted. The thought that she might lose him forever without even offering an apology made her heart feel as though it were being scorched.
He must not… he absolutely must not leave us like this. We doubted him the entire time… If he falls without us even being able to apologize…
Rebekah and the demon soldiers waited with desperate, aching hope for their commander to open his eyes.
Meanwhile, at that very moment…
The hero receiving treatment with his eyes closed the entire time was, in fact, not seriously injured at all. He had certainly not lost consciousness. Elan Savior lay there sweating cold drops, feeling nothing but pure, awkward discomfort.
Damn it… what now? I only meant to pretend I was moderately hurt, slip back, and wake up at the right moment… but I completely missed my cue.