Chapter 54

This was a cavern stronghold—the base of operations for the Demon Lord’s army, sworn enemies of humankind.

“Enough already, you guys…”

Long, golden hair shimmered like sunlight. Pale skin, sculpted muscles—he was the pinnacle of life itself. A being so powerful that his mere presence inspired both awe and terror.

He was the king of demons. A monster who ruled over demonkind with strength alone.

He was the Demon Lord.

With a wild grin and clenched fist, he swept his gaze across his subordinates and let out a thunderous roar:

“Let me go out to the battlefield already!!”

“There he goes again—Demon Lord-sama and his bad habits!”

Apparently, the Demon Lord was itching for action.

“The Demon Sword King got taken out, didn’t he!? That means there’s someone strong out there, right?! So let me fight ’em already!”

“Please, just wait a little longer! We still haven’t neutralized the most dangerous threat!”

“For some reason, all our movements are being predicted with freakish accuracy! It’s likely the humans have a precog—or magic close to it!”

“Then I’ll just wipe out humanity myself!! Let’s see them predict that!”

He was the apex of all demonkind. A one-man army, revered and obeyed by every demon beneath him.

And yet, that same Demon Lord was now throwing a tantrum, while his desperate lieutenants scrambled to hold him back from charging into battle.

“If you fall to some underhanded human trick, Demon Lord-sama, it’s over for all of us! Please, we beg you—don’t be reckless!”

“As if some puny human could take me down! Their cheap traps don’t work on me!”

“You always say that—and then fall right into them!”

“Who’re you calling an idiot, huh!?”

With a blur of movement, the golden-haired king smashed the offender into the ground with a single punch, burying him deep beneath the rock. A muffled cry echoed up from below: “Heeelp meee…”

The Demon Lord’s fighting style was simple—get close and punch. Even what he considered a “light jab” could crater the ground and send sturdy demons flying.

But that also meant he had to get up close to fight. He didn’t know the first thing about magic or human trickery.

He was a genius in combat—undeniably—but when it came to anything else, let’s just say he wasn’t exactly known for his intellect. Up to this point, his lack of foresight had been covered by his more capable subordinates, but truth be told, he was surprisingly easy to fool.

He was brute strength incarnate. And that made him fatally unsuited for dealing with humans, who specialized in ambushes, illusions, traps, and all other kinds of cunning.

“We get it, you’re strong, Demon Lord-sama—but what if you get caught in a teleportation trap and sent flying across the continent? You wouldn’t even be able to make it back on your own! That’d be the end of us!”

“I probably won’t get caught!”

“That’s the problem! They’ve got someone who can read our moves! Until we find and eliminate them, we can’t risk letting you go!”

“Shut it, jackass!”

And there it was—his other fatal flaw: a dangerously short temper.

Up until now, the wise demons under his command had kept things running smoothly. Their goal wasn’t just to fight—they aimed to win. But for the Demon Lord, who was only ever strong, patience and subtlety were just sources of frustration.

“I’ve been holding back so damn long!!”

From the start, he had no intention of creeping around the capital. His original plan had been to stomp across the border, declare, “I am the Demon Lord! I’ve come to take your lands, humans! Gwahaha!” and charge in with a smile.

Naturally, the other demons stopped him.

This was the first time in centuries that demonkind had unified under a single banner. Charging in recklessly would’ve wasted that rare chance. Demons might not match humans in cunning, but they weren’t fools.

So instead, they advanced slowly. They built bases near the capital. They plotted. They schemed. They used every ounce of strategy they had to prepare a surprise assault.

But just as they were about to strike—just before everything was in place—some rogue demons from an unknown faction launched a premature raid on a human town.

And it ruined everything.

The humans immediately went on high alert. Patrols doubled. Gate security tightened. Soldiers were deployed across the region.

The element of surprise was gone.

“Who authorized that raid?! Which race did it?!”

“No idea! No one was supposed to move yet!”

“That doesn’t make sense—someone must’ve leaked or disobeyed!”

The long-awaited invasion—the once-in-a-century chance to take the human realm—was slipping through their fingers. The army’s top brass could only clutch their heads in despair.

Still, despite the botched timing, the Demon Lord Army was already close to the capital. They still held the advantage—maybe.

Which meant a new plan: abandon the stealth attack and go for an all-out war. Losses would be expected, but a decisive blow could still win the day.

“Humans are clever—and fast. Look, they’ve already built a fort in this area.”

“I really want to go out there already…”

“This terrain is dangerous. It’s like we’ve got a blade pressed against our backs.”

“They know where we are. From now on, we move with care. First, we take that fort before reinforcements arrive.”

“No objections here.”

“So is it finally my turn!?”

And so, the Demon Lord’s army launched a swift assault on the fort, prioritizing speed over caution.

The result: disaster.

“The fort was already reinforced! Human troops were waiting!”

“There’s a crazy-strong magic user—they wiped out our vanguard with terrifying spells!”

“Our retreating troops are being ambushed—they’re almost completely wiped out!”

It was as if the humans knew their every move in advance. No—at this point, it was certain. The humans were using magic that predicted the future.

Most likely, it was their response to the rogue raid.

“More bad news! The Demon Sword King who went to support the assault—he’s been killed!”

“Some of his men made it back alive… but they’re barely standing!”

“The humans’ strength isn’t just clever—it’s real!”

The bad news wouldn’t stop.

The Demon Sword King—one of the fiercest generals in the Demon Lord’s army—had been slain and forced to retreat. The news sent shockwaves through the Demon Lord’s ranks.

“If it weren’t for some underhanded trickery, weren’t we supposed to be stronger than humans?!”

According to the report from the Demon Sword King's surviving subordinates, he had fought a fair and honorable battle—yet still lost in a head-on clash, outnumbered two-to-one, against a single human swordsman.

If that were true, then that human commander’s combat prowess would rival that of even the fiercest demons.

The demons had always believed—without question—that humans were weak. That was why they’d assumed victory was within reach.

That assumption had just been shattered.

“So now we crush the head of the human army, then launch a full-scale offensive and finish this while they’re in disarray.”

That was the conclusion the Demon Lord’s army had reached.

They would infiltrate human territory, assassinate the king, and seize control of the kingdom amid the chaos. A straightforward war no longer seemed favorable.

“C’mon! So when’s it finally my turn?!”

To them, the Demon Lord himself was their only remaining trump card. The humans still had no idea he existed.

If he chose to, he could reshape the landscape with a single breath—flattening mountains into valleys with nothing but his bare hands. He was destruction incarnate, the embodiment of battle itself.

If they could unleash such a being in the final battle, amid the enemy’s confusion, their victory would be assured.

But if the humans had time to calmly prepare countermeasures, there was a very real chance the Demon Lord could be neutralized. Humans were creatures of intellect—if they discovered the Demon Lord was simply an overpowered brute, they would surely find a way to deal with him.

And besides, it seemed the enemy was already anticipating their next move. Trapping the Demon Lord wouldn’t be all that difficult.

“Please wait a little longer, my lord. We intend for you to make your grand entrance at the climax of the final battle.”

“No! I’m done waiting! Let me fight already! I’ve had enough of this!”

“Please, we beg you!”

That’s exactly why the Demon Lord’s army wanted to keep his existence hidden. Except for the most trusted demons, no one was even allowed an audience with him.

Fortunately, that secrecy had paid off. Even someone like Mino hadn’t been able to gather detailed information about the Demon Lord.

—

"—Enough already!"

And so, perhaps this was a stroke of luck.

For humanity, an overwhelming stroke of luck.

"I'm going out. I was against all this sneaky, underhanded fighting from the start. True demons conquer through open, honorable battle—that’s how it should be!"

The Demon Lord’s lack of patience. His thirst for battle finally snapping his self-restraint.

The defeat of the Demon Sword King had lit a fire in his warrior’s soul.

"Lord Demon King!!"

"Let me teach you something, my feeble comrades. Those who are truly strong are never beaten by mere tactics."

The expressions on the officers’ faces changed. They understood now—the Demon Lord was serious.

With golden hair bristling like a wild flame, the Demon Lord rose to his feet with majestic ease.

"I’ll charge in alone. That’s the surest way to win with minimal casualties."

And with those words—

Before his subordinates could even shout for him to stop, the Demon Lord vanished from the throne.

No—that’s not quite right. None of them had been able to follow him with their eyes. That’s all.

"...Track the Demon Lord!"

"Hurry!"

"No, it’s no use. Now that he’s headed out, the element of surprise is completely gone—!"

In that split second, the officers of the Demon Lord’s army were thrown into despair. At this point, not even they could guess where he had gone.

Had he headed for the fortress? Or perhaps the royal capital?

Their ultimate weapon had launched himself into battle of his own accord, and the shaken officers—no longer thinking clearly—reached a conclusion.

"Then there’s no choice. We have to launch a full advance now! The Demon Lord’s strength is practically tailor-made for surprise attacks!!"

"If we sit around waiting for the right timing, we’ll just fall further and further behind!"

They had no choice but to follow him—launching their own assault.

After all, demons weren’t as deliberate or calculating as humans. More importantly, if their supreme leader had charged out on his own, then realistically, they had only one option left.

"Full army, charge!!"

The leaders of the demon tribes within the Demon Lord’s army scrambled to ready themselves for battle.

And thus, the spark that would ignite the final showdown was struck—suddenly, and recklessly—by the Demon Lord’s own short temper.

---

Repulsive.

What awaited the soldiers—those who had left the royal capital behind with death-defying resolve, ready to lay down their lives to protect humanity—was not glory, nor even hardship.

It was filth.

A perverted old man, drowning in debauchery.

“Hyohyohyo! Booze and flesh, baby! This is paradise!”

In the war room—supposed heart of the fortress—red-light district women clung to the aging general like ornaments. In the adjacent chambers, merchants took the chance to peddle overpriced liquor to the highest bidder.

Was this truly the front line of a war?

Or just another seedy pleasure quarter?

“After a loss like that, we won’t be fighting again for a while. Might as well replenish our spirits, eh?”

He laughed, drunk and shameless. A man so decadent, so rotten with indulgence, that even after earning national fame as a hero, he'd been stripped of his rank.

“Come now! Drink! Sing! Enjoy life!”

The soldiers who had arrived prepared to die for their country could only stare, disillusioned.

Why are we even here?

Women draped themselves over aging officers. Merchants grinned as they laid out overpriced trinkets and liquor. Dancers swayed to the beat of drunken cheers.

“Relax, relax. This place is safer than anywhere else in the kingdom.”

He wasn’t wrong. The fortress was once hailed as the most impregnable stronghold in the country—designed solely for defense.

And defense was the one thing the old general actually excelled at.

“Hyohyohyohyo! I wanna live here forever!”

And so, one by one, the soldiers fell. Not to enemy blades—but to their own desires. They followed the general into depravity. It was a disgraceful scene—an absolute mockery of the ideals they once held dear.

Empty bottles piled up in the halls. The stench of perfume and sweat clung to the barracks.

『To the Esteemed General Mino────』

…The next day, after one earnest soldier reported the shameful state of the fortress to General Mino, two new commanders were dispatched without delay.

Only then did the soldiers finally breathe a sigh of relief.

---

"────Execution."

"That’s tyranny!"

We were being shown around the fortress by a soldier when Clarise issued her very first order—execution.

The old bastard had been squandering valuable military funds on women and booze, all under the excuse of “reinvigorating morale.” Clarise, unusually furious, didn’t hesitate. Her verdict was swift.

Execution.

It was the right call.

"What’s so wrong about bedding a woman on the battlefield?! Providing girls to men who might die tomorrow is a commander’s duty! A brat who still smells of milk and knows nothing of how men work is letting her emotions—"

"You’re the one enjoying it the most, you damn pervert. How many women have you got holed up in this place?"

"I’m still in my prime!"

"…Execution."

"Agreed."

"That’s tyranny!!"

I won’t pretend I don’t understand where he’s coming from. I’m a man too—I get it.

…but you don’t use military funds for it. And you definitely don’t turn the frontline into your personal harem.

"I’ll take his head. I’ll make it quick and clean. He won’t suffer."

"Nooo! I still have a dream! I wanna die smothered between a pair of big breasts!"

"Sorry I’m flat-chested. Soldier, hold him down."

"Hiiiii!!"

And that wasn’t all. On top of embezzlement, the bastard was guilty of theft and public indecency. Honestly, just groping Mei-chan’s butt should be enough for the chopping block.

Expressionless, I drew my sword and raised it.

I’m not especially strong, but if I aim straight and clean, severing an old man’s neck isn’t hard.

The soldiers held him down as he cried, shaking his head violently from side to side. I stared coldly at his squirming form and—

A chill ran down my spine.

Like death itself had brushed past my soul.

That visceral, bone-deep dread. The kind that tells you: You’re not getting out of this alive.

Cold sweat soaked my back. My hands trembled. I couldn’t breathe.

The pressure alone crushed my chest. My mind blanked, my sword frozen in place. Slowly, I turned.

"What… was that?"

"…Killing intent?"

Clarise and the old man sensed it a moment later.

That overwhelming presence.

It wasn’t human. It was a force of nature—pure, violent, and absolute. The kind of pressure that made every living thing want to crawl into the dirt and hide.

So this is what it means to feel your hair stand on end.

This wasn’t someone I could fight.

No. Even the idea of standing against it was laughable. That was power.

"Wall of Love, Super Shield!"

Clarise reflexively threw up a barrier. She felt it too—some primal instinct screaming: If I don’t defend now, we’re done for.

She was right.

Because a moment later—

The fortress was gone.

"Huh?"

I saw it before I heard it. The structure simply… crumbled.

I floated above the collapsing ruin in stunned silence, my brain struggling to process what had just happened.

"Snap out of it, Flatche!! It’s the enemy!!"

Our massive fortress—nearly a castle—was now rubble. Only the section Clarise shielded remained.

"…"

At the epicenter of the destruction stood the culprit.

Golden hair bristling in the wind. A grin carved with cruelty.

That thing—with a wave of its hand, as if swatting a fly—had erased everything.

────BOOM!

The moment his arm swung down, everything ahead of it was blown away. Like a child rampaging in a sandbox, an ugly, rippling landscape was carved into the earth, kicked up with clouds of dust.

…It was nothing short of monstrous.

"…Retreat!!"

As the soldiers stood frozen in shock, the elderly general gave the order. It seemed he was the first to grasp the obvious truth—there’s no way to defeat a monster like that.

"Everyone but me is the decoy. You lot, buy us some time—however much you can!"

Slipping out of the soldiers’ grip with a weird, slithering motion, the old man scuttled away like a bug, fleeing the scene with impressive speed. Caught off guard by the golden monster, Flatche couldn’t react in time and ended up just watching him go.

"I'm counting on you! The rest's up to you!"

"Wait—don’t run, you damn geezer!!"

The girl swordsman screamed at the fleeing elder, but whatever that thing was—its overwhelming pressure robbed her of the will to give chase.

Gritting their teeth at the old man who had wasted military funds on drink and women, only to be the first to run when battle finally came, Flatche and Clarise quietly steeled themselves and raised their weapons.

"Let him run, Flatche. …What matters is, this is our moment of truth."

"…Looks like it. Talk about bad luck."

Yes, they had to take a stand.

Because, in theory, this was a stroke of luck.

"The most powerful anti-personnel combatants among the human race… are here."

Now that the monster had come to this place, the ones to take it down—

"We'll be the ones to bring it down."

"Yeah."

---

The old man fled. Silently erasing his presence, trembling like a frightened animal, he slipped into the woods, forging his way through pathless underbrush as he bolted toward the royal capital.

After doing as he pleased and leaving a mess behind, he was now fleeing in disgrace. No doubt, the soldiers of the fortress held his reputation in the deepest of contempt.

How pitiful. One had to wonder—was he ever truly fit to be a general? Could a man who fled out of fear for his own life really be called a great figure?

"...No one ever said anything about fighting a monster like that..."

Wiping away his cold sweat, the old man kept running. To survive. To live.

Because even in the twilight of his life, he still clung too tightly to it to let go.

…No.

“I’ve finally been given another chance to serve, even these old bones. I can’t just die without fulfilling my duty.”

This old man hadn’t fled out of selfish cowardice. No—he had abandoned the stronghold and run for the sake of humanity’s victory.

“I’d have been as useful as a scrap of paper if I’d stayed back there. More importantly—”

What the old man did have was a sharp eye. He excelled at analyzing, understanding, and countering the enemy.

Back in his prime, it wasn’t swordplay or strategic brilliance that had supported his career. It was the unmatched ability to see. That was the true essence of General Laurel.

Even that national asset, Mino, had chosen to rely on this perverted and self-centered old man in a time of crisis—and that decision had its reasons. Laurel was a master at reading the battlefield and grasping enemy capabilities. He was, in a sense, a different kind of "ultimate tactician" from Mino.

Where Mino excelled in “gathering intel in advance, analyzing it, and identifying the best course,” General Laurel shone in “knowing the enemy, knowing oneself, and choosing the best option in the moment.” In a battlefield devoid of prior information, he would undoubtedly surpass even Mino as a strategist.

And what that old man perceived, the moment he laid eyes on the sudden assailant, was:

• That thing is likely the Demon King. If it were some lowly underling, there would’ve been no reason to hold it in reserve until now.

• That Demon King (presumed) cannot use magic. If he could, he would’ve recognized and countered Clarice’s barrier.

• And most critically…

His insight stripped the truth bare. Just from a fleeting look at its behavior and the surrounding circumstances, he saw it clearly:

• The Demon King (presumed) appeared alone—he brought no subordinates. Which means he’s likely impulsive and self-centered.

• And for someone that overwhelmingly powerful to have been held back this long—it can only mean one thing.

Only a man who had lived his life steeped in warfare could understand the value of such information.

• There is a high likelihood that indirect tactics are effective against the Demon King——

This had to be delivered. This information had to reach Mino.

The old man fled alone, shamefully. Leaving the battlefield to soldiers undoubtedly decades younger than him, fully aware he would likely be accused of cowardice and desertion.

And yet he ran, carrying with him the one weakness of the Demon King's side that he had just witnessed with his own eyes.

“Forgive me... you all can’t win against that monster. He’s beyond anything I’ve ever seen.”

Even as regret and guilt consumed him, the old man did not stop running.

“But your sacrifice won’t be in vain. I swear I’ll make it count——”

Behind him, the earth-shaking roar of destruction echoed relentlessly.