From the moment the Demon King learned that slave traders were present in this area, they had become part of his goals.
Faced with overwhelming power, Peña’s subordinates confessed everything—the name Mitae, the involvement of Peña and Anjak, and all the locations of the slave cartel’s strongholds.
Among them, the locations of the strongholds were of particular importance.
Of course, not all of them left alive. Those who confessed met a swift end, while those who either refused or genuinely didn’t know suffered even after death.
For a while, the undead monster “Puppy” enjoyed its feast, growing stronger and more ferocious than ordinary monsters.
“We should hurry. If we want to finish this quickly, we need to move,” said the Demon King, gesturing toward Puppy as he spoke to Lerazie.
Obeying the order, Lerazie climbed onto Puppy’s back.
“How much longer will it take?”
“A day, maybe two.”
Soon, Lerazie would reunite with her friends. She clenched her hands tightly with anticipation as Puppy began to run at an unprecedented speed.
Meanwhile, Peña, Anjak, and the unnamed female slave took considerably longer to return to the stronghold.
Peña and the slave were not suited for rapid movement. Peña was merely a merchant, and the slave was treated as nothing more than cargo.
Without the assistance of Anjak, a knight, their return journey might have taken even longer.
“Do you think Mitae is here?”
“She’s probably not. She wasn’t in her right mind when she fled.”
“You trusted that madwoman? Look at the loss we’ve suffered…!”
As the main stronghold came into view in the distance, Anjak tilted his head in puzzlement.
Though his face was obscured by his armor, his actions clearly conveyed a sense of unease.
“There’s no lookout.”
Sensing something off, Anjak refrained from sharing his concerns with Peña.
When they finally opened the gates to the stronghold and stepped inside, they found it deserted.
The cages where slaves had been kept were empty, and the guards who were supposed to be on duty were nowhere to be seen.
Even the documents and weapons essential for managing the slave cartel had vanished without a trace.
“What… what is this?! What happened?!”
“Hah!”
While Peña panicked, Anjak let out a sarcastic laugh as if he had been expecting this.
Peña turned to Anjak with a bewildered expression, but the knight ignored him and headed straight for the stronghold’s vault.
Using his massive strength, Anjak tore the vault door off its hinges, ignoring Peña’s protests.
The vault was enormous, resembling a granary large enough to feed hundreds.
But the vast space inside was completely empty.
“This speed… it could only be that boy,” muttered Anjak as he turned to Peña.
“Our contract ends here.”
“What did you say?”
“You don’t have any money left, do you?”
“…What?!”
Shocked, Peña followed Anjak into the vault.
“This can’t be… no…”
“Goodbye. Die well.”
With those words, Anjak grabbed Peña with one hand and threw him into the empty vault.
The merchant, unused to being treated like an object, rolled on the floor, looking at Anjak in disbelief.
Without another word, Anjak collected his slave and left.
Peña, overwhelmed by the loss of everything he had, sat despondently in the vault.
Then, he heard footsteps approaching from outside and instinctively lifted his head.
“Ah… so that’s how it is…”
Hundreds of slaves, armed with weapons from the cartel, stood at the entrance to the vault.
They had remained hidden because of Anjak, but now there was no reason to hide.
The slaves set fire to the vault.
Trapped inside the burning vault, Peña had no way to escape.
It was a fitting end for a merchant who had forsaken humanity for the sake of wealth.
“Starting with me? That’s harsh.”
Muttering to himself, Anjak stopped in his tracks as he traveled toward the mortal realm with his slave.
Before him stood a boy, sword in hand, waiting.
“I have some questions for you,” said the boy.
“If I answer, will you let me live?”
Without replying, the Demon King pointed his sword at the slave Anjak was holding.
“Ah, fine.”
Anjak hurled the slave into a corner of the forest. A faint, short scream echoed as the slave landed.
“Is that good enough?”
Raising his hands to signal surrender, Anjak waited as the Demon King questioned him with a cold expression.
“The imperial knights I know aren’t like you.”
“I regret it too.”
“What do you regret?”
“I realized this is as far as my talent goes.”
Anjak slowly gripped his sword—a massive blade that matched his enormous frame.
For him, it was an ordinary two-handed sword, but to the boy, it was larger than his own body.
“Working hard wouldn’t have gotten me anywhere. So, I decided to chase pleasure instead.”
“What is the knight order like?”
“A den of fanatics worshipping the Hero and the Emperor.”
“I see. That answer will suffice.”
“Let me live,” Anjak pleaded shamelessly.
“I have no ambition. I just want to enjoy women, have money, and live in comfort. Judging by your actions, you seem to have ambition, but I won’t stand in your way.”
“That pleasure of yours is built on the tears of the demon realm.”
“You’re no different from those fanatics.”
Anjak adopted a combat stance, positioning one shoulder forward like a charging bull.
As he stomped the ground, a cloud of dust rose, obscuring the surroundings.
Charging through the dust, Anjak rushed at the Demon King.
Behind the boy, Puppy leaped forward, jaws wide open.
The moment Anjak saw the undead monster, he lowered his sword.
As they clashed, Anjak swung his blade upward, splitting the monster’s jaws vertically.
But even then, the beast didn’t stop.
With its now four jaws, it bit into Anjak.
Its teeth crushed the armor on his body.
However, Anjak shoved his hands into the monster’s split jaws.
Using his overwhelming strength, he tore the creature in half.
Emerging from the split carcass, Anjak stood, his breath heavy.
“So, this is the strength of the current imperial knights?”
As the Demon King spoke, the upper portion of Anjak’s armor shattered and fell to the ground.
Anjak looked down at the armor and smirked.
“Alright, so you’ll let me live now?”
“That’s not for me to decide.”
“…What?”
“Go ahead. I’ll even help you.”
Anjak felt a sudden wave of unease at the Demon King’s words, but it was already too late.
“…!”
The slave he had overlooked plunged a blade deep into his back.
Anjak tried to attack the slave immediately, but his body refused to move.
Threads of necromancy, countless and intricate, connected every part of his body, starting from his hands.
When had he been ensnared like this? Was it during his clash with that monstrous creature? No, the monster was inside his mouth at the time.
Ah, it must have been when I charged forward.
Paralyzed and unable to move, Anjak was helpless as the slave mercilessly slashed at him with the blade.
The blows lacked strength, and the attacker was someone who had never trained with a weapon. It was a clumsy and desperate assault.
Anjak’s massive frame and robust stamina kept him from dying quickly.
But the slave did not stop. Over and over, they stabbed and slashed, continuing relentlessly until Anjak finally fell.
It took a long time, yet the Demon King silently watched the entire ordeal unfold.
When Anjak’s enormous body finally succumbed, and the slave was left sobbing, struggling to catch their breath, the Demon King quietly picked up Anjak’s sword.
“…It really has been 300 years. The quality of this blade is exceptional.”
The Demon King slung the massive sword over his back—it was far too large for him to wear on his waist—and gently patted the slave on the head.
“…Let’s go. You’re free now.”
The Demon King led the slave away.
“You just need to reach the surface world. Just the surface…”
Mitae, in her frenzied state, muttered nonsensically as she drove the horses to exhaustion.
When the weary animals collapsed, she killed them on the spot and began dragging the wagon herself with her bare hands.
The wagon rattled violently as she pulled it, the unstable movement mirroring her fractured psyche.
Then, suddenly, Mitae sensed eyes on her and froze.
Cautiously, she turned to look behind her.
The Demon King stood there, silently watching the wagon.
Taking a few steps forward, Mitae noticed that he followed her, doing nothing but mirroring her movements.
“Haha… Of course. How could you possibly kill me, huh?”
Dropping the wagon, Mitae drew her sword.
“Judgment Blade, release the seal.”
The sword transformed into its massive form, radiating a brilliant golden light.
The Demon King, upon seeing it, commented,
“…You’ve mimicked the hero’s blade.”
“That’s right! This is the hero’s sword! The very blade that slew the Demon King! Even if you’re the second Demon King…”
With that, Mitae charged at him.
The two blades clashed, but the Demon King swiftly twisted his body, avoiding the confrontation as Mitae’s sword sliced through his magical crystal blade like it was paper.
“…The hero’s power… It truly imitates them.”
The Demon King calmly drew Anjak’s sword from his back. For him, it was as cumbersome as a greatsword.
As he imbued the weapon with his power, black flames enveloped its blade.
“That knight…?”
Why does the Demon King have that sword? Has Anjak already fallen?
Mitae hesitated briefly at the sight but quickly shook her head.
Even if Anjak is dead, this thing can’t kill me.
What difference does the weapon make?
Mitae began reciting a prayer.
“Hero, look upon the soldier who fights here today.”
Divine power surged through Mitae’s body.
Miracles and necromancy stood as polar opposites—one born from faith, the other from manipulation.
Necromancy treats the human body as a mere tool, believing it can be altered at will.
Miracles, however, treat the body as sacred, asserting that faith can achieve anything.
“Grant me courage to stand against evil and burn my life to defy death.”
Mitae’s body pulsed with divine energy, granting her strength and speed far beyond her physical limits.
“Such a hypocritical prayer,” the Demon King mocked.
“How does one who oppressed others so fervently dare to pray like this?”
He bit down on his tongue, letting the blood flood his mouth. As it spilled forth, necromantic runes etched themselves across his body.
His heart raced violently, sending blood rushing through his veins at unnatural speeds.
Every part of his body heightened its sensitivity and reaction time.
When Mitae leaped forward, her movements became too fast for an ordinary eye to track.
She swung her sword, and the trees in its path fell simultaneously.
Yet, in the slowed perception of their duel, the Demon King and Mitae moved as if in a world of their own.
Mitae aimed her sword at the Demon King’s neck.
Learning from his earlier mistake, the Demon King avoided direct contact between their blades and maneuvered inside her guard, slicing into her shoulder.
Mitae staggered back, clutching the wound, but her eyes shone with a twisted glee.
Each clash left another mark on her, while the Demon King remained unscathed.
Her thigh was cut, her arm slashed, her foot pierced.
Yet she persisted, continuing her futile attacks even as her body crumbled.
“Even if you can’t kill me… those kids over there…”
With an unsteady voice and an exhausted body, Mitae smirked.
“If I’m going to die, I might as well spare myself… right?”
The Demon King glanced toward the wagon.
“There’s no need for that anymore.”
“…What?”
Mitae turned her head.
The children in the wagon were free, their chains broken.
Lerazier had unlocked the bars, and a nameless slave had dispelled the divine seal.
As the last child’s miracle was undone, the golden trace around Mitae’s neck faded and vanished.
“…What?”
That was her final word.
The Demon King’s sword passed through her neck.
The madwoman’s head rolled to the ground.
Had the Demon King attempted to break the seal himself, Mitae might have chosen to take her own life instead.