With the battle concluded, I gathered her remains into my arms.
I sheathed the keepsake sword and hung it from my belt before teleporting the waiting undead back to their respective posts.
Now alone, I invoked the magic of Teleportation.
I arrived at the Valley of the Dead.
Isolated by my barrier, it was a land where not a single living soul could tread.
"......"
I surveyed my surroundings.
A profound silence hung over the area. There was no sign of life to be felt. Even if an intruder had managed to break through, they would have perished instantly; such was the lethal concentration of the miasma drifting through the air.
As an undead, my strength surged simply by standing here. This place was my reservoir—the very origin of my existence as the Demon King.
I held no fond memories of this place, not by any stretch of the imagination; it was a site where countless fates had become inextricably intertwined.
Cradling her in my arms, I walked to the edge of the cliff and peered down into the depths. Below me, dense miasma churned like a thick mist, obscuring everything from sight.
"—!"
My shoulders jolted as if struck by an electric current. Memories flickered through my mind in rapid succession. Being here naturally brought back the day of our execution.
This was where we had died.
For ten years, I had wallowed in agony at the bottom of the valley until I finally resolved to become the Demon King. I had consumed the miasma to gain strength and crawled my way back up from the depths.
Then, I slaughtered the soldiers and seized the kingdom.
It all felt strangely nostalgic now, as if it had happened in a mere heartbeat. I had truly taken lives beyond counting.
Back then, we were executed on the pretext that we would become the next-generation Demon Kings. That fabrication had since become the truth. It was an outcome no one had truly desired.
"...Goodbye."
After a brief moment of hesitation, I let her go. Using magic to levitate her body, I slowly lowered her toward the bottom of the valley.
It was a necessary precaution to ensure that her remains could never be exploited by another. She must never be granted Resurrection again. I had promised that we would not meet a second time.
In that regard, the Valley of the Dead was the only place where she would be truly safe. No matter the method, interference was impossible here. Should anyone ever attempt to trespass upon this land, I would eliminate them without hesitation. That was the extent of my resolve.
As she descended, she was gradually swallowed by the miasma mist until she vanished entirely.
How ironic, I thought.
Years ago, I had returned to the surface with her remains. Now, I was burying her resurrected self in this very earth. Both outcomes were my choices. And yet, I felt no regret. I would not deny my past; I would carry its weight with me.
I looked down at my waist and unfastened the keepsake sword, letting it fall toward the bottom of the valley just as she had. I no longer had any need for it.
It had been a symbol of my dependence on her, but through our final words and our clash, my lingering attachments had been severed. From this point on, I could move forward on my own strength. It was only right to return the blade to its owner.
At that moment, the morning sun spilled into the Valley of the Dead. I shaded my eyes and gazed toward the horizon.
Dawn was breaking, almost as if it had been waiting for me to settle my accounts. A brilliant light began to illuminate the world.
With the morning sun at my back, I turned on my heel. I had overcome one trial, but this was far from the end. As the one who remained, I still had much to do.
First, I had to inform my subordinates of the outcome. They were waiting for my return, and many were likely worried.
"...I bid you farewell."
I looked back once more, offering a deep, final bow.
With that, I departed the Valley of the Dead.