Chapter 4: Back to where it began
Splurt—!
A fresh stream of blood gushed from the demon lord's mouth, staining the ground below in deep red. He gnashed his teeth in frustration, his eyes burning with disbelief.
'How...? How could I... the mighty demon lord... be reduced to this pathetic state?' He mumbled inwardly.
The thought gnawed at his pride more deeply than any wound.
He could have accepted death at the hands of the hero—Terry, with his divine spear and ridiculous strength.
That would've at least been an end worthy of a powerful demon like him. But to fall to a no-name? A trembling weakling with nothing but two daggers and a weak transformation skill?
'Humiliating... utterly humiliating...'
His hands trembled as he forced himself to breathe, his chest straining with each inhale.
In truth, he had already been close to death from the moment Terry struck him with that final blow.
The illusion of his strength—his overwhelming aura—was nothing more than a desperate trick.
A mirage, conjured by pouring every last drop of his mana into a complex veil of deception.