Chapter 177 : The Demon King and the Hero
Chapter 177: The Demon King and the Hero
The interior of the tower was a maze.
Traps filled every corner, and monsters lurked at every turn.
It was a textbook Demon King’s tower.
But that was precisely what made Balraf feel a strange sense of unease.
‘...Why?’
It was far too different from the course of actions the Demon King of Dark Flame had shown until now.
He was a bastard who had hidden the tower, even moved it around, and toyed with humans. And yet that bastard’s tower was this orthodox and normal?
“When you think about it, building the tower somewhere else is actually very simple. We were the ones who got trapped by being fixated on their standard instead.”
“So you’re saying that since it’s a simple change, it wouldn’t be strange if the inside didn’t change much either?”
“That’s what I think. Honestly, moving it makes no sense. We just couldn’t find it.”
“Well, isn’t the mage right? Now that we’ve found the tower, it can’t be wrong. Even if there are some traps, I’m confident we can smash through them all.”
Gillian agreed with Aina’s words. Balraf nodded as well.
It was confidence.
Just as he said, Balraf was confident that no matter what cheap trick the Demon King tried to pull, he could crush it all with force and take his head.
“We’re going up to the next floor. Watch out for the Four Heavenly Kings.”
“Come to think of it, the Four Heavenly Kings haven’t appeared this time.”
“They probably got scared stiff at the sight of the army and tucked their tails between their legs.”
“Well, when Lord Hillan and Lord Daphne climbed Ergest, it was literally a search party, but now it’s an entire legion.”
The maze was long, and the monsters were stronger than expected. But that was all.
They weren’t enough to stop three Stars and 349 heroes. Especially when one of those Stars was Balraf Dislode.
─!
A monster exuding demonic energy—no, a magical beast—was split cleanly in half without even managing to scream.
Amid that entire process, Balraf pushed the sense of unease aside.
Demonic energy flowed through the entire tower, and magical beasts were present. It was a Demon King’s tower he had visited countless times. It was right to be cautious, but there was no need to feel excessive strangeness.
That was what he thought.
At least until they broke through the maze of the second floor—whose structure was only slightly different from the first—and climbed the stairs leading to the third floor.
“...?”
“...Huh?”
“What?”
The stairs were abruptly cut off.
There was no door, and no third floor.
Only an empty ceiling greeted them.
“...A ceiling?”
That couldn’t be right. No matter how newly descended a Demon King was, a tower was known to have at least five floors as a basic—
That was when a massive movement of mana was felt.
“It’s a trap!”
Balraf released his aura and wrapped it around his entire body. Gillian, and the other heroes who sensed something wrong, did the same.
“Aina!”
“Yes!”
Aina quickly chanted a spell. A massive barrier of water began to envelop the heroes.
At the same time—
─────!
An explosion occurred.
‘A mana bomb?’
It wasn’t a simple mana bomb. If it were, there was no way they wouldn’t have sensed it.
‘It’s mixed with demonic energy.’
More precisely, it was overlaid. Mixed with the demonic energy flowing through the entire tower, it had completely concealed its presence within it. Like a tree hidden within a forest. How was something like this possible?
Balraf cut off his thoughts. The situation did not allow him the luxury of contemplation.
‘Front, back, left, right.’
And even above and below. Bombs were everywhere. Flames surged in from all directions.
The water barrier evaporated completely before the overwhelming firepower.
He split the surging flames in half. The moment he struck down the front, shocks came crashing in from all sides.
The heroes’ blood and flesh were devoured by the flames. Their screams were swallowed by the roar of the explosions.
Aura melted away in vain, whispering death.
And yet, Balraf did not fall.
He restored his shattered aura. If once wasn’t enough, then twice, three times—he swung his sword.
The slashes he created pushed back the shockwaves. But it was only for a moment.
Unable to endure the heat and the aura beyond its limits, the sword let out a cracking sound and shattered. Balraf threw away the sword, leaving only the hilt behind.
And then he opened a subspace.
───!
At the utterly familiar presence, the sword let out a cheer. Its clear sword cry rang out distinctly even amid the explosions.
The red sword devoured the flames. It cut through them, swallowed them, and greedily absorbed every blaze.
Kwaaaar—
Even as the tower collapsed and the aftermath of the explosion struck beyond it, the sword was solely focused on filling its own belly.
But the moment was far too short to swallow all the flames, to block every explosion that surged beyond the tower toward the alliance.
A single storm passed.
“Haha....”
Feeling the fullness of heat through the red sword, Balraf let out a hollow laugh.
It was hell.
The tower had collapsed, and most of the heroes who had entered were annihilated. Gillian Aint, a Star, was half-melted, and Aina Diaphrin had barely endured but was unconscious from severe mana depletion.
And what about the allied forces?
Steam filled the surroundings as snow and heat met, but it did not hide the sight from his eyes. Inside, it was nothing short of hell.
A knight with half his skin melted screamed.
A soldier who had lost his legs crawled along the ground.
A hero who had barely survived clutched the charred corpse of a comrade and wailed.
Corpses, screams, blood, despair and agony.
A single explosion had created this situation.
The Demon King of Dark Flame had toyed with him and humanity once again.
And it didn’t end there.
Flash—
Black light pierced the sky and surged upward, scattering in all directions and asserting its presence.
It was demonic energy so foul it made one sick.
From all sides, the filthy stench of monsters multiplied.
“Luring monsters after the explosion, huh....”
They had been played.
Played so thoroughly it was beyond question.
Why hadn’t he thought of this? Why hadn’t he realized that the tower itself was a trap?
It couldn’t be helped!
Blood flowed down from Balraf’s clenched fist.
Who, what kind of Demon King, would make a decoy tower and use it as a trap?
What kind of Demon King would design such an elaborate scheme?!
“...Come out.”
Flames surged upward. Feeding on their master’s blood, they grew even hotter.
Hwaruruk—
Red dark flames split the demonic energy, blocking it from spreading any further.
“Come out.”
You damned Demon King bastard.
“Come out!”
It was hollow rage.
Nothing more than uncontrollable heat.
A grudge so intense that unless he smashed, destroyed, and killed something right now, it would never be released—driving him to desperately seek the Demon King above all else.
And then, like a miracle—
───────!
The Demon King appeared.
* * *
Chocolate was sweet.
It was the perfect food to enjoy while admiring the beautiful scenery he had created.
“Well then.”
A beautiful explosion that vanished together with the tower. The first act of the stage he had prepared had come to an end.
Now it was time to move on to the second chapter.
The desperate, beautiful, and endlessly entertaining struggle between the wounded alliance and the monsters drawn by demonic energy.
“Jason Kokemundo.”
What kind of expression would he make when he heard the outcome of this?
Would he openly rage like last time, or would he let it pass in silence?
And what kind of response would he show afterward?
Would he aim for the Golden Moon again? Or would he target the tower once more with the remaining heroes?
Whatever it was, it would be enjoyable.
No matter what he did, Berje would continue down his current path without caring.
“To think that being able to move the tower was this good.”
The certainty that the tower would never be discovered had made him like this.
No matter what he did, no matter what he caused, he could survive.
“Yes, even if I were to kidnap the Empire’s First Crown Prince once again—”
Do....
Berje closed his mouth. His gaze returned to the stage he had created below.
Discomfort, rejection, revulsion, and hatred welled up.
An uninvited guest had appeared. Flames soaring high into the sky split the demonic energy. That power, that presence, was all too familiar to Berje.
Something he could never forget, even if he lived his entire life.
“The red sword.”
The one that had cut through his scales.
“The red sword.”
The one that had pierced his heart.
“The red sword!”
That very sword.
That presence. That violent power of dragon slaying.
He spread his wings.
He flew through the sky. Dark red flames left a long trail as he descended vertically toward the center of the stage.
───────!
Two different flames collided.
Shockwaves that could not be dispersed swept through the surroundings.
“...You bastard.”
Berje growled.
“Where did you get that sword?”
“You.”
Balraf raised his eyes.
“You’re the Demon King. You’re the Demon King of Dark Flame, aren’t you?”
Berje did not hide his demonic energy. Balraf felt that thick, sticky demonic presence.
Their eyes met.
“Balraf Dislode?”
A look of something different surfaced in Berje’s eyes. It was different. This wasn’t the hero who had pierced his heart and mocked him in the past.
But that sword—yes, that sword was the same. The presence it emitted was unmistakable.
There was no mistake. He couldn’t possibly misfeel it. He had chewed over it again and again, even in his dreams.
Then—
‘It’s just temporarily in that bastard’s hands.’
There was about a ten-year gap between Berje’s death and now. Even if a new hero had appeared and the sword’s owner had changed, it wouldn’t be that strange.
‘Yes, that’s only natural.’
But that didn’t give any reason to let Balraf live.
Just having that sword was reason enough to die.
And the same went for the other side.
The Demon King had appeared. Kill him.
Balraf Dislode’s thoughts converged into one in an instant.
“Why is a Demon King even interested in this sword?”
Only the doubt born from the Demon King’s last question briefly held back the boiling rage.
“When I ask, you answer.”
“I asked you instead, you Demon King bastard. After throwing us into a trap, you’ve gotten so full of yourself that you can’t even tell front from back now?”
“What did you say?”
“You seem to be under a very big misconception.”
Balraf took one long stride forward.
“The reason I haven’t been able to kill you until now, and the reason I’ve been done in by you, isn’t because you’re stronger than me.”
Because you’re a coward.
“Because you do disgusting shit like hiding the tower and setting traps.”
“I see.”
Berje snorted.
Dark red flames wrapped around his entire body.
“I’ve talked too much in front of vermin. I should have just killed you and been done with it.”
“Anyone would think you were a Demon King who’d descended a hundred years ago, you’re so scared.”
The one who moved first—
Was the great hero.
Hwaruk—
In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of Berje’s nose.
The flames that couldn’t keep up traced a red arc a moment later.
────!
Flame and flame tangled.
The sword was blocked by sharp claws. Draconic power tore at draconic power.
─!
Undispersed shocks spread outward. Just before those shocks fully faded, Berje extended his other hand.
Kagagak—
The sword slipped free from Berje’s grasp. He knocked away the other hand as well.
The impact knocked his body slightly backward. Using the recoil, he swung the sword in a wide arc. A space-rending slash aimed at the Demon King.
───!
A wall of surging flames blocked the slash. But it was soon shattered. The interference power that existed to erase beings of other dimensions lent strength to the hero.
The wall vanished. But the Demon King was no longer behind it.
Above.
Balraf thrust his sword toward the sky, colliding with flames pouring down vertically.
Balraf kicked off the ground. He shot upward like a shell, cleaving straight through the flames. And when he reached the end of it, what awaited him was a fist covered in scales.
──!
He was slammed down at more than twice the speed at which he had risen. Amid the hazy snow and clouds of dirt, Balraf surged upward once more.
Flames became propulsion, accelerating him again.
─!
─!
Sword and claw collided. Fist and sword, fist and fist, foot and foot struck at one another.
Space tore, and the air wavered. Flames, aura, mana, interference power—everything became entangled.
Berje revealed a portion of his true form. Dark red dragon scales covered his skin.
The dragon-slaying sword—tempered and refined until it became the opposite of its original nature—tore through the dragon’s scales. The momentary resistance created a small opening. The dragon’s claw grazed the hero’s shoulder.
Excessive power created a massive crater in the distance. The alliance caught in the aftermath screamed.
“...Just what are you!”
As the battle continued, Balraf was engulfed by a bizarre sense of unease. A flood of questions seized his mind.
‘Why?’
Was this truly the power of a Demon King who had existed for only two years?
‘Why?’
Why was the interference power unable to exert its proper strength? Interference power was the dimensional force that acted upon beings from other dimensions—the will of the world to protect itself.
It wasn’t that the interference power was completely ineffective, but considering the opponent was a Demon King, it was far from efficient.
Unless they were monsters who had survived for long ages, earned the dimension’s recognition, and settled in it—
‘It makes no sense.’
A Demon King who had been summoned for only two years and had already gained the dimension’s recognition? Such a thing couldn’t exist—and must not exist.
Therefore, without fail—
‘I’ll kill him here.’
The thought of keeping him alive to extract information was already gone. If he didn’t kill him now, it would surely return as a great calamity. His instincts, honed by a lifetime as a hero, screamed a fierce warning.
Pachak—
He twisted the sword, cutting off the flow of demonic energy. Flames and aura mixed. He drove the surging power into a gap in the flow.
It tore through space and aimed for the Demon King’s vital point.
Amid that violent wave, the Demon King steadied his breathing. He kneaded demonic energy and mana together into a single form, compressed it tightly, opened his mouth, and spewed it forth.
────!
The two forces collided.
The world shook.
Berje’s body, unable to disperse the shock, staggered in midair.
The deflected wave erased an entire mountain peak.
‘Impossible.’
His breath had failed to completely block the hero’s strike.
The violent blade pierced through the demonic energy and tore into flesh. The dragon-slaying power ripped away scales, and the cold blade dug into skin.
He avoided a fatal wound, but the power that exceeded his expectations put a brake on his thoughts.
‘This is just a hero who’s killed a single Demon King?’
That couldn’t be.
No matter how long he had lived as a hero.
No matter how he had been revered as the greatest hero for decades.
A human had limits.
Even a Demon King’s power had limits.
Hillan Cargill could strive for decades more and still not reach this level.
Even killing several more Demon Kings wouldn’t surpass it.
This wasn’t speculation. It was certainty.
Because Berje’s two years hadn’t been mere two years.
He had absorbed a Phoenix’s corpse and awakened mana.
He had absorbed Vivian’s tower and increased efficiency.
He had consumed a dragon heart and perfectly fused two different powers into one.
He was equal to—or greater than—his own self just before regression, when more than half of his interference power had been released.
That was why he was confident. In a one-on-one, he was confident he could overwhelm anyone.
And yet Balraf Dislode. What in the world was this hero?
“You.”
Berje muttered quietly.
“Just how many Demon Kings have you killed?”
“And you—are you really the Demon King of Dark Flame?!”
Their doubts about each other were swallowed by killing intent.
Balraf Dislode refined his aura once more and overlaid it with interference power.
Instead of retreating, Berje sharpened his power again. A dragon was great because it was a dragon. A dragon had to be dragon-like to be a dragon.
And Berje was a dragon.
The two powers collided without yielding a single inch.
They devoured everything.
* * *
A massive crater where the aftermath had settled.
“...You cowardly bastard!”
Balraf roared from its center.
“A Demon King bastard actually running away—!”
Clear claw marks were carved into the chest of the heavily breathing Balraf.
Not deep, but unmistakable.