The sun hung low over the Royal Capital, mere moments from slipping below the horizon.
The Demon King's Army stood assembled in the central plaza. They were gathered for a single purpose: the subjugation of the Hero.
I had left the defense of the capital to the remaining monsters. Since I had layered multiple levels of Defense Magic over the city, there would be no issues. Hundreds of thousands of Undead already prowled this land; for an outside force to seize it would be a near impossibility.
Thanks to the efforts of my scouts, I had already accurately grasped the Hero’s current location. He was resting at a Fortress held by the Territorial Army. The Fortress was situated in the heart of that territory, likely positioned so they could deploy regardless of where we appeared.
The Territorial Army itself seemed considerably exhausted from repeated skirmishes with the Undead. I had heard the number of casualties was too high to ignore. Even with a Hero among them, he was, in the end, a single man. Looking at the theater of war as a whole, they were likely scraping by with narrow, desperate victories.
I intended to shatter that fragile hope with a surprise attack.
(Finally, the time has come...)
I felt the weight of the Keepsake Sword hanging from my waist. My mind was calm, my resolve long since forged. I would not waver. As the new Demon King, I would eradicate the Hero.
I cast a brief glance over the ranks of the Demon King’s Army. Every soldier stood in absolute silence, waiting for the order to march. I could feel their rising bloodlust, barely suppressed beneath the surface.
I activated my Teleportation Magic.
As I did, I felt a faint resistance. It seemed an Anti-Teleportation Barrier had indeed been erected at our destination. However, it was pathetically fragile. I could tell it was a makeshift measure, cobbled together in haste. With most of the Kingdom already absorbed into the Demon King’s Domain, they likely lacked the luxury of gathering skilled mages.
I increased the output of my magic and forcibly shattered the barrier's function.
A momentary sensation of weightlessness followed, and then the world shifted. We stood upon a grassland where the crimson of the sunset bled into the encroaching shadows of night. A Fortress towered atop a gentle hill before us, surrounded by countless bonfires intended to keep the darkness at bay.
Several soldiers spotted us and fell into a panicked frenzy. The shrill, clattering ring of metal striking metal echoed through the air—an alarm to signal the enemy’s arrival. A great commotion rose from within the Fortress as they scrambled into a combat stance.
(So, the Hero is in there.)
He was likely resting in preparation for the next battle. I would have to teach him that such preparations were futile. This place would be his grave.
"Henry."
I called the name of my subordinate. Carrying the Dragon Bow, the man stepped forward with an air of absolute confidence.
"Yeah, leave it to me, General."
Henry nocked an arrow with a practiced, effortless grace and leveled his aim at the Fortress. A fearless smirk played across his lips as he muttered to himself.
"I’ll give ‘em a little morning call."
With a sharp whistle of displaced air, his shot flew, punching straight through the reinforced stone of the Fortress. Using the point of impact as a fulcrum, a section of the structure began to groan and collapse. Screams and bellows of rage followed—the sounds of soldiers unlucky enough to be caught in the destruction. It was a level of devastation one would never attribute to a single arrow.
(As a preemptive strike, that will do nicely.)
The opponent was a Holy Sword Wielder. It was only logical to whittle down their forces from a distance for as long as possible. If we continued this one-sided bombardment, they would eventually be forced to make a move.
We waited, watching like predators.
Once the dust from the collapse settled, the soldiers began to retaliate with fire arrows. They rained down upon us like a burning downpour. Fire was an effective tool against the Undead; it was easier to utilize than Holy Magic and provided a reliable light source. However, it was a tactic that had been exhausted over the course of the invasion. As the commander of the Undead, there was no way I hadn't prepared a countermeasure.
I raised a hand and conjured a sudden gale. As the wind scattered the fire arrows, I gave the next order.
"Grom, you're next."
"At once! As you command!"
Grom responded instantly, stepping forward to take Henry's place. A black mist began to seep from the ground, swirling upward like a living thing. It was concentrated Miasma. Under Grom’s control, the vapor flowed toward the Fortress of its own accord. One by one, the bonfires enveloped by the mist sputtered and died until the entire Fortress was shrouded in gloom. The soldiers inside would be choking on the toxic fumes by now. They would find it impossible to fight effectively.
"Good. Well done."
"I am most honored, my Lord!"
Grom pressed a hand to his chest. In his rapturous joy, the magical flames within his eye sockets flared up, engulfing his entire head.
"Demon King-sama, should I proceed with the sabotage?" Luciana asked.
"Yes. Carry on as planned."
Just as I finished speaking with Luciana, a burst of white light erupted from the Fortress. In a heartbeat, the encroaching Miasma was purged. No ordinary Holy Magic could achieve such a feat. Moments later, magical lights were ignited, likely placed by mages to replace the extinguished bonfires.
(That light just now...)
As I watched, a figure emerged from the Fortress. He stood atop the ramparts, looking down at us while clutching a sword clad in Holy Light.
"He's here."
I narrowed my eyes. He looked to be in his early twenties, or perhaps even his late teens. He was younger than I had anticipated. The blond, blue-eyed youth wore armor of far higher quality than the rank-and-file soldiers. His gaze, tempered by resolve and a fierce sense of justice, burned with a righteous fury. That face, burdened by the weight of a divine mission, was hauntingly reminiscent of her.
The Hero. The champion chosen by the world to strike down the great evil that was I.
The Hero raised his Holy Sword high. Under normal circumstances, his blade could never reach us at this distance, yet he held his stance with absolute conviction. His intent was clear.
The Hero swung the Holy Sword down.
A massive Light Slash of pure white energy tore from the blade. It gouged a deep furrow into the earth as it hurtled toward the Demon King's Army. I deployed a Defense Magic barrier infused with Miasma. I took care to manifest it at an angle rather than perpendicular to the ground; if I attempted to block that much power head-on, the barrier risked being shattered.
The Light Slash slammed into my defense. After a brief, violent struggle of opposing forces, the slash was deflected upward. It detonated high in the atmosphere, momentarily turning the twilight sky into day. The light faded as quickly as it had come, returning the world to darkness.
Satisfied, I turned to Grom.
"I will draw the Hero away. Focus your efforts on taking the Fortress. I will call for you if the need arises."
"Understood! May fortune be with you!"
I used a visual teleportation to blink directly in front of the Hero. He recoiled in shock, his eyes widening.
"Y-You...!"
"The Hero, I assume. I have some business with you."
I didn't give him time to recover. I manifested my magic, extending an Intangible Hand from my shadow to seize him. I bound him tight with crushing force.
"Guh! You...!"
The Hero began to channel the power of his Holy Sword, intending to incinerate me with a point-blank Light Slash. Taking that hit at this range would be troublesome.
"The collateral damage would be too great if we fought here," I said tonelessly. "We are changing locations."
Before he could release his attack, I hurled him away. I threw him toward a desolate stretch of grassland, far from the reach of both the Demon King's Army and the Fortress. Even as he soared through the air, the Hero swung his blade. The resulting Light Slash was aimed with terrifying accuracy.
(He has good instincts. He’s already grown accustomed to the heat of battle.)
I swatted the attack aside with Defense Magic. The redirected Light Slash shrieked past me, carving a jagged canyon into the earth.
"T-This guy is the Demon King...!"
"Die! Just die, you monster!"
"We can do this! For the Kingdom!"
The soldiers pouring out from the Fortress lunged at me with their swords. I didn't have the time to entertain them. My focus had to remain entirely on the Hero; I couldn't afford to look away for even a second.
"Out of my way."
With a casual wave of my hand, I triggered a spell. Miasma Spears materialized and skewered over a dozen soldiers in a single motion. Where the points struck, their flesh rotted away instantly, leaving only bleached, skeletal remains.
The new corpses rattled their jaws and stood up. Now transformed into Skeletons, the fallen soldiers picked up the Miasma Spears and turned back toward the Fortress to infiltrate its walls. At the base of the hill, the Demon King's Army had begun its final advance.
I could leave the rest to them. The Fortress would fall shortly.
(Which means the rest depends on me.)
I could not fail. I would defy the destiny laid out for me, no matter how far I had to go.
With that vow etched into my soul, I descended toward the grassland where the Hero had landed.