Flames surge forth. The dragon-slaying sword reacts, baring its greedy blade and devouring them ravenously. It makes no attempt to hide its hunger, displaying its hostility toward the dragon's power.

That murderous intent, that hostile energy, keeps needling Berge. His irritation mingles with the humiliation he suffered before. And so the battle begins at full strength, with nothing held back from beginning to end.

Dark crimson flames mingle with ash-gray aura. Berge covers himself in scales and bares his claws. Their sharp edges trace long arcs.

CLANG!

The red sword blocks their path. Aura and flames scatter with the shock wave.

The dragon-slaying energy weakens the dragon's power, while dimensional interference weakens power from another dimension. The flames shrink, and the hero's strength grows.

Balaf's sword spins once, knocking the claws aside. It unleashes its ferocity on its further-weakened enemy.

CRASH!

Berge crosses his hands. The blade penetrates the flames, the demonic energy, and his scales. Its dragon-slaying energy struggles to ravage his insides, only to be forcibly extinguished by a far greater power.

"Is that all you've got?"

If so, how disappointing.

They had been given the same amount of time. The hero had killed a Demon King who had endured for nearly a hundred years and absorbed his power. The Demon King had taken other Demon Kings as servants and absorbed their towers, improving his efficiency at removing interference. And in sheer quantity, the Demon King had the upper hand. The entire continent cried out for the downfall of the Demon King of Hellfire, and all its fear, grief, and anger became his strength.

In that brief span, the gap between their once-comparable powers had widened dramatically. A few clashes made Balaf acutely aware of that fact. So he decided to truly give it his all.

'Was this what that bastard Jason wanted all along?'

Even suspecting it, he had no choice but to play into his hands.

To survive. To kill the Demon King. To take revenge. He decided to reveal everything he truly possessed.

CRACK!

He releases a burst of aura. An immense repulsive force pushes everything away: the air, the sea, the Demon King, and the shell wrapped around his own body.

It was a disguise, changing his appearance and concealing his identity. It was a seal, restricting a portion of his power as its price. The binding that made him Balaf Dislord while suppressing his strength shattered.

"... The Guildmaster?"

"Guildmaster?"

Even from far away, several heroes recognized his face.

'As I thought...'

There was no escaping it. But for now, he had to focus on the Demon King before him rather than the repercussions to come. Savoring the additional power restored to him, he finished preparing to slaughter the Demon King.

And then...

What was this...?

He found himself facing dreadful murderous intent.

Something about the Demon King had changed. He was more vicious, more uncanny, and seething more fiercely.

Their eyes met. His heart lurched, and gooseflesh rose on his skin. The madness and ferocity, the fury and ecstasy within those eyes ran too deep for him to see their limits.

"... So it was you."

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

"It was you."

You. It was you.

Black hair and black eyes. That familiar shape of the eyes, that familiar mouth. A face engraved in Berge's mind, impossible to forget. The bastard who had killed his servants, mocked him, pierced his heart, and taught him how foolish the Guide was.

"It was you!"

It was you!

ROOOOAR!

Everyone clutched their ears and staggered at the demonic dragon's roar.

BOOM!

Berge launches himself into the air. Unable to withstand the force, the ice shatters. Heaving waves swallow some of the heroes and demonic creatures. A dark crimson streak shoots straight ahead.

"What the fuck are you talking about?!"

WHEEEE!

Aura compresses. The Red Dragon Sword sings.

"When has a Demon King like you ever seen me?!"

His feet break through the ice, but his stance remains steady. Strength incomparable to what he had shown before fills him. He moves to meet his charging enemy head-on.

BOOOOM!

But the compressed aura melts in the flames. An explosion erupts as though hundreds of mana cannons have fired at once. All the ice the Demon King froze melts away. A rough hand thrusts through the opening and seizes Balaf by the throat.

WHOOSH!

Unprecedented force drives him deep into the sea. Water rushing into his mouth prevents him from screaming. Even underwater, the Demon King's visage is clear, like some hideous fiend.

He overcomes the water's resistance and swings his sword again.

CLANG!

The Demon King's scales repel the dragon-slaying energy. He swings a second time, then a third.

Blood from shallow wounds disperses into the seawater. How far have they descended? The seabed greets him. Even in the abyssal darkness, the flames do not go out. They stand out all the more clearly. Balaf rubs his throat, with no time to dwell on the burning pain.

『You fool.』

He sends a magical message to mock his enemy.

『The so-called Demon King of Hellfire comes underwater of his own accord?』

Being underwater is merely a little cumbersome; he can endure it for days. But the Demon King? His special flames do not go out easily in water, but they are still affected. The Hellfire, slightly smaller than it was above water, is proof.

『Demon Kings really are idiots. Putting yourself at a disadvantage.』

『Yes. That voice. That sneer.』

He had deliberately mocked the Demon King to get under his skin. But the reaction was not what he expected.

『I wanted to tear apart that mouth that mocked me. To rip out that snake's tongue. To crush those insolent eyes that looked down on me!』

『What?』

『You have no idea how happy I am to have you before me now.』

BOOM!

The Demon King stamps his foot. A tornado of dark crimson flame shoots straight upward. For a brief moment, it evaporates the seawater and lets air rush in.

"ERNYAAAAAAN!"

The Demon King calls for one of his Four Heavenly Kings.

"Clear away the seawater."

He gives his command. An answer comes.

RUMBLE!

The seawater parts, forming a circular space as though held back by an invisible wall.

"What...is this...?!"

Balaf hurriedly raises his sword.

CLANG!

The wrenching impact forces him a step backward. The Demon King presses after him.

Claws trace arcs. The sword blocks them. Fast, powerful, and hot, every strike targets a lethal weak point. But simply falling victim would shame his reputation and render all the long years he has accumulated meaningless. He sharpens his senses, desperately parrying the claws. Then he thrusts his sword into the openings he gradually begins to see.

SCRAAAPE!

The sword rakes across the scales. The dragon's hard armor loses its strength before the dragon-slaying energy, wounds opening as though in ordinary flesh. The dragon-slaying sword responds to the dragon's blood, ravenously swallowing it and unleashing still more power.

"You sure gorge yourself well. Yes, you did back then, too."

The enraged dragon stamps his foot. Heat erupts through the ground, splitting into dozens of streams that fly toward the hero. But the hero regains his composure. He smiles at the heat rising beneath the sea.

"I don't know what nonsense you're spouting."

But what does it matter?

WHIRRRR!

The dragon-slaying sword thirsts for still more blood. Compressed aura rends space.

BOOM!

The flames split. At that moment, a massive explosion engulfs the surroundings and sweeps over the hero.

He cloaks himself in aura and takes it with his body. The dragon-slaying sword ravenously devours the blast, reducing its intensity. Beyond the gradually fading flames, he sees the Demon King. The instant he thinks of reaching him, his body leaps across space.

CLANG!

The sword tip narrowly grazes a horn. Violent recoil sends a tingling shock through his hand.

"Gah...!"

Agonizing pain tears through his chest. The Demon King deliberately offered his horn, then swept his claws across the hero's chest. Armor forged by a master blacksmith crumples like paper.

Enduring the pain, he takes a reverse grip on his sword and stabs downward. A suddenly rising wall of fire impedes him. He strikes it and cleaves through. Aura extinguishes the lingering flames. The Red Dragon Sword grows fiercer still. Its blade targets a vital point.

CRUNCH!

The Demon King sprays blood.

"What a shame."

The hero sneers. The blood on his blade vanishes in an instant.

"A little farther to the side, and I'd have hit your heart."

His sneer enrages the Demon King.

"Who are you?"

"Must I answer? Where did all that confidence go?"

Compared with the Demon King's wounds, the hero's are no shallower, and perhaps deeper. So he feigns calm and buys time. Healing magic wraps around his body.

"You killed the Demon King of the Sea of Blood and the Adamant Demon King? Bullshit. You've killed far more than two Demon Kings."

"True, not two. I've killed two as Guildmaster alone. That already makes four. Of course, even that isn't all of them."

"Guildmaster. Yes."

Berge had heard it too: the reactions of the surrounding heroes when the man revealed his true face.

"There couldn't possibly be more than one bastard like you."

"Did Hillen Cargill tell you? That I look different from Balaf Dislord?"

"What if he did?"

Berge did not conceal it. He already knew Balaf suspected. There was no need to confirm it for him, but one of them would die here today anyway.

"I'll have to kill Hillen Cargill when I return."

"You think you'll be returning?"

"Since you're curious about my identity, shall I tell you a little story from long ago?"

Balaf changed the subject. Berge made no attempt to stop him.

"Long ago, there was an extraordinarily gifted hero. He was so superior that he readily accomplished things other heroes could not."

Yes, for instance...

"Things like killing one Demon King after another. It was after he killed two of them."

Humans revere those who can do what they cannot. Or they fear them.

"Followers began to gather around me. At the same time, others grew envious and jealous and sought to kill me."

"Daniel Deirus?"

The man who supposedly vanished with the tower while hunting his third Demon King, centuries ago?

"... You know my name?"

Now the hero had a question of his own. But it no longer mattered. He gripped his sword. His preparations were complete.

"You foolish Demon King. You actually stood there listening to my story. Thanks to you, all my wounds have healed."

The hero smiled. The Demon King smiled back.

"You're not the only one who did that, you stupid hero bastard."

In fact, Berge had not merely been healing his wounds. He had been gathering power as well.

"What?"

A wave of flame answered him.

"That again?"

The hero snorted.

"I admit you're strong. I cannot fathom how a Demon King summoned only two years ago can possess so much power. But as long as you're the Demon King of Hellfire, as long as you're a demonic dragon, you cannot defeat me."

That was the nature of the Red Dragon Sword: a sword that consumed fire and killed dragons. That was the nature of a hero: a being who preyed upon and annihilated beings from other dimensions. Balaf Dislord—no, Daniel Deirus—was Berge's natural enemy, his perfect opposite.

Having feasted on the demonic dragon's flames throughout the battle, the sword releases a massive aura twenty meters long. It cleaves the wave in a single stroke. And through the gap, the hero who has lived for centuries sees something ominous.

"Fine. Then try blocking this too."

The Demon King draws a deep breath. Sucking in air and mana, he draws out all the fused mana and demonic energy divided between his two hearts. He releases it all at once.

ROOOOOM!

The air is erased. In the blink of an eye, the dragon's power reaches the hero's face. The hero makes his judgment. It is too late to dodge.

Fortunately, he too has been stockpiling power. And as long as that attack is fundamentally draconic, demonic, and fiery, he cannot lose. Yet he does not let his guard down. Squeezing his aura core dry, he magnifies the sword's energy to its utmost. The sword opens its maw toward the flames.

It is almost as though he can hear it crunching and chewing. The dragon's power, which burns everything, is stopped by a mere sword and cannot advance. Aura extinguishes the heat that escapes uneaten. And so the hero advances.

One step. Two steps. The breath of that power, its heat, cannot dare touch the great hero. He senses victory. He will cleave the flames, pierce that power, and drive his blade straight through the Demon King's head.

WHIRRR!

The sword shudders. Overflowing with power, the dragon-slaying sword leaps with joy as well.

'If I kill him...'

He imagines a bright future. He has never faced a Demon King this strong. This one will grant him more power than any Demon King he has killed before. If that happens...

'That monster...'

Perhaps he can finally kill the bastard masquerading as his partner. No, he will kill him. And escape his clutches. He takes another step.

WHIRRRR!

It is then that the hero notices something amiss. The sword vibrates. No, it screams. The heat intensifies. His aura melts away.

'What...?'

That was no cry of joy.

WHEEEEE!

It had eaten, and eaten, and eaten again. Now it could eat no more, endure no more. This was the sword's final scream.

CRACKLE!

The discordant sound of tiny cracks strikes the hero's ears. He grits his teeth. The moment he realizes that the Empire's treasure, forged from the bones of a Red Dragon, cannot withstand the attack, he makes a swift decision.

The Demon King is roughly thirty meters away. The sword screams, but it can still hold.

'Run.'

He will drive it into the Demon King's throat before it breaks.

He presses down through his toes. The muscles of his lower body swell. The ground breaks beneath the force.

BOOM!

The breath parts. The sword's screams grow louder. The distance between them rapidly closes.

'I'll reach him.'

The repulsive force grows stronger. The amount of heat the sword can bear gradually diminishes. The flames strike his aura with ever greater heat. Feeling his aura rapidly deplete, he races another step forward.

His aura melts. His armor heats up. His hair burns, and his skin peels away. The sword's screams become shrieks of agony.

'Just a little.'

Just a little farther. The hero prays desperately, wishes desperately. Fifteen meters, thirteen, ten, eight.

They can see each other's faces and expressions. He is close enough to sever the Demon King's neck in a single breath, yet the distance feels immeasurable. Just a few more steps. He only has to drive this sword tip into that bastard's mouth. He only has to cut off his head. Then...!

CRAAASH!

Ah.

The hero gives a hollow smile. It takes only 0.0001 seconds for the sword to shatter. Yet to the hero's eyes, everything unfolds slowly.

Cracks spread across the entire sword before it explodes into flying fragments. It destroys everything without distinguishing between wielder and enemy. Shards break through aura and armor, burrowing into skin and hammering flesh. The dragon's unceasing power washes over him in their wake. The world turns dark crimson.

* * *

His entire body throbbed.

'Did I lose...? Truly?'

Daniel Deirus barely managed to keep his eyes from closing.

Far above, he could see the sky. He could see the sea, still held apart. Mist born from the meeting of water and fire swirled around him. And through it, the victor appeared.

"Your body is certainly sturdy, at least."

The Demon King mocked him.

"... How could you possibly..."

"You heroes always say that."

"What...?"

"Why do you look so disbelieving at something so perfectly natural?"

"What non...sense...!"

"Demons are superior to humans. Demon Kings are among the strongest of them. We follow the Guide you mock as foolish because we are confident."

Confident we can win even so.

"You know that too. That's why, even on your grand hero's journeys, you never face a Demon King alone. But you were overflowing with pride in yourself."

No, it was not only his problem.

"Every hero who enters the tower wears that same disbelieving expression when death stares them in the face. You thought you could never die, didn't you? Because Demon Kings are such a joke to you."

"That's..."

Because for over a hundred years, that had been the natural order. Because humans had stood above Demon Kings.

"Hehehehe."

The Demon King laughed.

"I wanted to turn the tables on you just once. So this is how it feels."

"... What?"

"Don't worry. I won't kill you just yet."

CRUNCH!

A heavy foot drove down onto his chest. Balaf coughed up blood.

"I'm far too angry to give you an easy death. And I have so very, very many questions for you."

The Demon King laughed. It was a wild, ecstatic laugh—the laugh of one who had finally taken his revenge.