That night, I sat alone in the Audience Chamber, lost in thought.
"......"
A rhythmic tapping echoed through the hall at regular intervals. When I searched for the source of the noise, I realized it was my own foot striking the floor. I had been moving it unconsciously. I stilled my leg and folded my hands.
(They are late. What is taking them so long?)
I could feel a sense of irritation gnawing at me. I knew the cause well: I was worried that Grom and his forces had not yet returned.
By now, they should have been deep in combat with the Holy Staff Kingdom. Half a day had already passed since their departure. Even if the battle had turned into a desperate struggle, it should have been settled by now, considering I had sent two of my executives.
The plan was for Grom to send a Telepathy message as soon as the fighting concluded. Despite that, there had been nothing but silence from the Interception Army.
(Are they struggling? No, there are few heroes in this world who could stand against those two.)
The more I ruminated on it, the more an ominous premonition stirred in my chest. Something must have happened to the army I sent. Given the circumstances, that was the only logical conclusion.
One cannot afford to ignore a sixth sense at times like this. It was always better to assume the worst-case scenario.
In this invasion, the Holy Staff Kingdom had been uncharacteristically bold. Regardless of whatever divine justification they claimed, they had begun massacring innocent humans. Did they not fear the condemnation of other nations, let alone the fury of the Demon King? Even accounting for their fanatical hatred of the Undead, this was clearly excessive.
They were not fools. They had to know exactly how much power the current Demon King’s Army wielded. If they were truly that irredeemably stupid, they would have been wiped out back when the previous Demon Lord was still active.
Regarding this massacre, I felt they had a specific scheme in mind. The Holy Staff Kingdom did not pointlessly drive its own people to their deaths. Above all else, they feared the loss of face that came with defeat. To them, brilliant victory and divine glory were everything.
(Perhaps the Holy Staff Kingdom is hiding something.)
Something that gave them the confidence to believe they could actually oppose the Demon King’s Army.
Under normal circumstances, Grom and Henry’s combined strength could overcome almost any obstacle. Those two alone were a match for an entire conventional military force. Yet, the anxiety would not leave me. The fact that they hadn't sent word or returned was far too unnatural. I had been occupied with administrative duties throughout the day, but I should have realized the gravity of the situation sooner.
(I should go see for myself, just in case.)
After a moment’s deliberation, I made my choice. It was no great effort; I simply needed to use Teleportation Magic to survey the area. If they were merely finishing up the battle, then it would end as nothing more than my own overprotectiveness. Luciana might tease me for it later, but that was a small price to pay.
I cast a sensory spell, spreading my consciousness toward the Eastern Region of my domain.
Midway through, I felt a jarring resistance. A Concealment Formula had been layered over the area, blurring all information within its range. It was a sophisticated piece of work, designed so that, at a cursory glance, nothing would seem amiss. From the castle, I couldn't tell what was happening inside.
The center of the interference was the city where I had dispatched the Interception Army. I searched the surrounding perimeter, but I couldn't find a trace of them. It appeared Grom and the others were already inside the city walls.
"......"
I stood up from the Throne in silence and turned toward the crystal resting on a nearby pedestal. Inside, the remains of that person floated in stasis. I knelt before the crystal and spoke to her.
"—I shall borrow this."
I reached out and gently took the Keepsake Sword that leaned against the pedestal. It was the weapon that had cut down the previous Demon Lord and the Hero of this era. Fates and consequences were intricately woven into its steel. It was a masterpiece of a blade, but it possessed no magical properties—and yet, I felt its weight.
(I should bring this sword.)
It was a vague premonition, but the part of me that was the Demon King insisted on it. I felt certain it wasn't the wrong choice.
Regardless, I had to reach the Interception Army. I activated my Teleportation Magic and probed the destination’s coordinates. As I did, I shattered the Interference Formulas and Trap Barriers that blocked my way, then leaped to the city.
The moment the night cityscape rushed into view, a violent numbness surged through my entire body.
"Ugh...!"
I groaned, falling to one knee. It felt as if a heated knife were being scraped across my skin. My limbs were heavy, as if they had been cast in lead.
Holy Magic.
The entire area was saturated with it. This was on a different scale entirely compared to the Holy Aura of the Forest of the World Tree. It was an output that should have been classified as Great Magic, yet it had been spread across a massive area. From the looks of it, the spell covered the entire city.
I couldn't just stand here. I immediately wove a protective spell around myself. As the magic took hold, the sensation of my bones evaporating finally subsided. However, the damage hadn't stopped entirely; I was merely slowing the rate of Purification. Eventually, my body would rot and vanish, right down to the marrow.
No, if it were just my body, that would be fine. With the Authority of the Valley of the Dead, I could resurrect through any Undead under my command. But this Holy Magic was too potent. If I were careless, it could damage my very soul. In the worst-case scenario, my resurrection might fail entirely.
The efficacy of this spell was beyond the realm of common sense. It was undoubtedly the work of the Holy Staff Kingdom, but I knew of no individual capable of such a feat. It had to be Ritual Magic performed by a massive group of casters. It far exceeded what a single person could achieve.
(And yet, I don't see how they could have prepared a spell of this magnitude so quickly...)
It would be one thing if I had walked into an enemy fortress built over years, but this was a city within the Demon King’s Domain. They had only occupied it for half a day at most. That was nowhere near enough time to set up such a complex ritual.
"My... Lord..."
A raspy, broken voice reached my ears.
Grom was crawling out from the shadows. His body was a wreck; his lower half was missing entirely, and of his eight arms, six had already rotted away. He was being consumed by the Purification.
"Please... run... while—"
Grom tried to warn me, but a chain of light whipped out from the distance and ensnared his torso. Its tip, sharp as a spear, pierced through him and pinned him to the cobblestones. Grom, wreathed in white smoke, slumped against the ground and went still.
"Huh? Something else showed up. Oh well, let’s just kill it too."
A girl's voice, incongruously cheerful, rang out.
Almost instantly, more chains of light hissed through the air toward me. I parried them with the Keepsake Sword and turned my gaze toward the speaker.
Further down the street, a long line of humans stood in formation. There were hundreds within sight, and my sensory magic told me there were no less than ten thousand stationed throughout the city. They wore white military uniforms and were decked in magical ornaments. The cross-like patterns on their banners marked them clearly as soldiers of the Holy Staff Kingdom.
At their head stood a girl who looked entirely out of place. She wore a pure white cloak and held an ornate staff. Her blonde hair swayed in the night breeze, and her face was twisted into a sadistic smile.