White skin. Slightly larger build compared to an average human. Enormous horns protruding from the forehead. Violet-colored pupils.
But with his arrival, the presence of all the demons, Azekel included, was erased, and it wasn’t because they had withdrawn their energy.
It was a silent, chilling presence.
Aindel wielded the Holy Sword. Once again, the blade brimming with divine energy flew towards the Demon King...
Crash.
But even that disappeared into thin air before reaching the Demon King, dissipating as if bursting in the empty space.
“I know you have reached your limit. Save the last of your strength.”
With the Demon King’s words, drops of blood trickled down from Aindel’s mouth.
For an instant, the vision blurred, and the Demon King’s figure split into two before merging back into one. Aindel pressed her temples tightly.
Seeing that the Demon King showed no sign of attacking, she also slowly sheathed her sword.
Because she knew. There was no use in showing unnecessary arrogance before that damn creature. It would only be a waste of energy.
Dealing with Azekel and the archdemons had already depleted most of her power. If even a brief moment of recovery time was granted, she should accept it as it was.
In the heart of the Demon King’s castle, under the dim violet sky, a heavy silence prevailed.
The unresolved battle of the past was replayed on the same stage, decades later.
The only difference was that the hero had grown so weak, and the resurrected Demon King had fully regained his past strength.
A fight with an ending predetermined from the start.
It was when Aindel began to prepare for her final battle...
“It’s hard to comprehend.”
The Demon King spoke.
“Why did you make this choice? If you had led the coalition forces, there might have been a slight chance.”
“......”
“Decades ago, the human I saw as a hero despised sacrificing others, yet still possessed discernment. You, more than anyone, would have known that. From the beginning, there was never a possibility for you to kill me alone here. Do you believe that the power of the Holy Sword can kill me or that the coordinated attacks of the remaining riffraff would pose a threat to me?”
The Demon King’s gaze upon Aindel subtly shifted.
“What on earth were you thinking? It’s unlikely for you to be this recklessness, so there must be something you trust in. Or perhaps...”
Before the sentence could conclude, Aindel’s posture changed.
The blade of the Holy Sword aimed at the Demon King’s throat like a flash of lightning. The Demon King reached out his hand. His palm blocked the strike of the sword, filled with divine power, and couldn’t break through. Pushed back by the surrounding darkness, it could go no further.
The lingering darkness coalesced around the Demon King into the form of a sword hilt. Aindel retrieved the sword and stepped back.
The sword of darkness was aimed at her and shot forth. The swords multiplied, growing from one or two to dozens in an instant, and they swiftly surged towards her.
Aindel momentarily dodged and deflected the swords in a struggle, but faced with the relentless multiplication of the swords, she eventually unleashed a burst of energy in all directions.
A divine power akin to the sea pushed back the Demon King’s strength. As if thorns on a hedgehog, the swords were embedded in the golden radiance, and the struggle continued. Eventually, the blades shattered and were destroyed.
Clang!
Aindel, once again, coughed up blood and staggered.
Her lips were pale, devoid of color, and now even tears of blood streamed down. Beyond her unfocused vision, the Demon King’s form split into multiples once again before consolidating.
“Hero, do you remember? Our first conversation when you and I first met.”
Wiping the droplets of blood from her chin, Aindel lunged at the Demon King once more.
This time, tendrils emerged from the swamp-like writhing darkness around the Demon King.
From the floor, from the walls, and from thin air, they were like the grasp of the dead rising from hell. They stretched out and grabbed her ankles, clawing and tearing as they went.
The holy armor that had protected Aindel’s body and even blocked Azekel’s deadly strike began to crack little by little.
After the armor finally shattered, wounds started to appear on Aindel’s body. Her flesh split open, and blood spurted out. Undaunted, Aindel pressed forward. Passing through the cracks of hell, she swung her sword at the Demon King’s neck once again.
The Demon King clenched his hand around the blade of the holy sword. In that state, Aindel gathered the last of her strength. The Demon King also braced against that force.
Rumble!
The ground trembled, and the air churned.
As if the world was split in half, light and darkness that marked the boundaries surged and pushed against each other repeatedly.
“…!”
For the first time, a determined gasp escaped from Aindel’s lips.
She was that desperate. Even if it meant using one arm or even suffering minor injuries, it didn’t matter. This was what she started, and the place she had determined to be the end.
Thud.
The darkness, which seemed to be receding for a moment, swelled with energy.
And Aindel’s left arm was devoured and disappeared into the darkness. The sacred power of the Holy Sword vanished without a trace. Aindel, now without strength, tumbled to the ground.
“Ah…!”
Azekel’s eyes sparkled with emotion as he exclaimed in admiration.
How long had they yearned for this moment?
Never had they doubted the mighty god. However, it couldn’t be denied that there was a tiny fragment of unease and worry, even though it was as small as a grain of sand, within their hearts.
It had been the same many years ago. On that day, when the outcome of the war was clear, the hero who had emerged among the insignificant beings wielding a single sword had performed miracles with a power distinct from this world.
But look now. Behold that wretched figure, writhing on the ground like a wingless insect.
They had waited a long time. The archdemons, including Azekel, could finally break free from the past and embrace complete confidence. This world would soon become their paradise.
“You once asked me, ‘Why do wars erupt? Why do we kill so many people and commit terrible deeds?’”
The Demon King spoke, looking at the fallen hero.
“And so, I asked you the same. ‘What are you fighting for?’ You spoke of peace, justice, and all those dull words. I wonder if your convictions remain unchanged. What has the world been like during the decades I slumbered? Has your desired peace arrived?”
The Demon King took a step forward.
“As a soul divided by the power of the Holy Sword, trapped in many bodies, I have watched the world outside of Altelore. There were those who devoted themselves to protect the hard-won peace, like you. But there were also those who wielded power recklessly and selfishly. They invaded, killed, watched indifferently, and even when one war ended, a new one swiftly began. Humans are just like that. Greed, compassion, ambition, righteousness, desire for life, benevolence. Your emotions and desires are all so different, causing conflicts that never cease. What a contradictory and confused species you are.”
“...”
“Demons, on the other hand. Our only desire is to kill, to trample, to ravage, to dominate. No existence exists that transcends those instincts. If only demons were left in this land, then unending battles and slaughter would be the world’s justice. No one would have complaints about that paradise.”
The Demon King asked, seemingly genuinely curious.
“Hero, what is the justice you spoke of? For what are you still fighting?”
Aindel struggled to rise, staring at the Demon King with unfocused eyes.
When the Holy Sword appeared before her for the first time.
Aindel swung the sword. She had only one fervent desire—to become strong and save the world.
She became stronger than anyone else. She defeated countless visible demons and saved people.
Yet, Aindel soon realized. She was nothing more than a child wielding a massive sword.
There were many people she couldn’t save, no matter how powerful she was, and there were many humans who were no better than the beasts that shook his tattered heart.
Power-hungry rulers were willing to sacrifice armies to preserve their own lives, betrayers aligning with demons for personal gain, soldiers committing heinous acts against civilians without a second thought in the chaos of war.
Why were you struggling so hard to save these pitiful humans? What was it for?
Dozens of times such thoughts shook her mind. Aindel fought not only against the demons throughout the war, but also against her own inner turmoil.
Yet she was able to endure and fight to the end because of her comrades.
Some were adventurers, some were mages of the Magic Tower, and some were nobles from prestigious families. They fought bravely on the front lines, facing death more valiantly than anyone else, even without the power of the Holy Sword.
After the Demon King was sealed and the war ended, there were almost no comrades left by Aindel’s side.
Aindel herself suffered great regrets and became terminally ill, and the Demon King didn’t die completely, so it was uncertain when he might resurrect again.
Aindel devoted herself to repairing the damage of the war. Once some stability was restored, she followed the revelation of the Holy Sword and disappeared from the world to nip the remnants of the Demon King and find the successor.
Did the peace she hoped for come after the war?
There were no more demonic invasions, but the Emperor of Santea ostracized, slaughtered, and plotted against the other races.
The conflicts between the neutral countries located between Seintea and Calderic never ceased, and under the belief that she needed to prevent even greater chaos, she herself remained proactive in resolving these disputes.
As the Demon King said, conflicts were endless. Even if the demons were completely eradicated from this world, that fact would remain unchanged.
Still, at some point, Aindel no longer agonized over such matters.
Whatever it may be, she realized that one reason was enough. With a serene voice that contrasted the tragic battlefield, Aindel replied.
“Because I am human.”
The demons were absolute evil. They could not coexist.
To humans, no, to all races except demons, there was only one definitive truth.
A smile finally formed on the Demon King’s lips, as if he had received the answer he desired.
“Yes. And because I am a demon, your world will perish.”
Aindel lifted the Holy Sword with her remaining arm. In response, the Demon King also raised his hand.
As a hero, there were no regrets or lingering attachments in her life. She only felt a slight concern for a young girl.
And so, starting from Kaen, what emerged at the end of her flickering thoughts was oddly the image of the Seventh Lord.
“…I implore you.”
The Holy Sword, shrouded in a golden glow, was thrust downward.
A flash of light erupted, its brilliance devoured by the darkness, quickly fading away.
Swish.
As Aindel stood, sword lowered, her form gradually turned into ashes and dispersed.
The archdemons watched the spectacle, barely daring to breathe.
“….”
However, the Holy Sword did not disappear alongside the hero.
Even after she was gone, it emitted a faint light, hanging in the air with dignity.
The Demon King observed it, then took a step forward and extended his hand toward the blade’s hilt.
-Vanish.
Flash!
With that voice, a powerful aura burst forth from the Holy Sword.
“My Lord!”
The surge of immense divine power startled Azekel. However, that energy quickly faded away.
After the light vanished, the Holy Sword was no longer there.
The Demon King looked at his smoldering hand, raised his head, and declared, “Gather the troops.”
No matter what the hero had believed, it was nothing more than a futile hope.
They would march to Santea.
