King

The moment he stepped out of the palace, another shockwave pulsed from above.

Saint Night had attacked the palace again.

"Damn it."

Saint Night spat the words, her face twisted with irritation. The palace, sealed by absolute barriers, couldn’t be harmed—even a scratch. That’s what was pissing her off.

The palace was fine. But every attack dragged the surrounding area into chaos.

People were screaming. Running. Panicked.

Couldn’t leave that be.

"Saint Night!"

"Saint Night!"

"Akitoooooo!"

She glared, eyes blazing—like a child, but with a murderous expression.

Saint Night spotted him and dropped from the sky.

Lifted her arm—swung her right arm down.

Clang! Eternal Slave caught it.

They clashed—black, jagged claws, like monstrous talons sprouting from the third joint of her fist.

"Found you, Akito!"

"Shut up!"

Can’t just leave this thing here like this.

Pushing with all my might.

The gem flares, the earth-toned armor wraps around me from head to toe.

“From Rebeck—get out, get out, get out!”

Still clutching the claws, I shove Saint Night.

“Oooohhh!”

Pushing with everything I’ve got—straight out onto the main road, straight toward the outside of Rebeck.

Shoving her out past Rebeck—plunging into the pile of accumulated trash, sending it flying, pushing even harder.

Just keep going—further, farther.

“Don’t get cocky!”

“Damn it!”

For a split second, it felt like Saint Night’s body had frozen in midair—then she was flung clean off, sword and all.

I land, roll, get back on my feet, raise my sword again, and glare at Saint Night.

She looked even more twisted than before.

Her hair stood straight up, like metal, cold and hard.

A massive, beast-like wing stretched across her back—her upper body bare, and even her lower half, though covered in what looked like scale-like pants.

No longer human. Fully demonic—god-killer form.

“What brings you here, Saint Night?”

“Don’t play dumb. Good of you to interfere.”

“About Rirya, then?”

“Yeah. What’re you playing at, Akito?”

“We’re allied with Rirya and the others. If it gets dangerous, saving them’s just common sense.”

“—So you thought you could outwit me?”

“I just wanted to protect them.”

“Don’t flatter yourself!”

Saint Night swung her arm. A black aura burst forth, hurtling toward me.

I raised my sword in defense. The ground around me—except where I stood—ripped open.

No pause. Saint Night lunged. Hellish claws sprouted from both fists, slamming down at me.

Block it with Eternal Slave. Metal shrieked. Shockwave slapped my skin.

Still holding, I kick—launch Saint Night backward.

A warm trickle runs down my cheek. Blood?

Wipe it with the back of my hand—no wound.

Why?

(Owner.)

Liasa’s voice echoes in my mind.

The earth-toned armor clinging to me—her magic charge trait.

Healing slowly—probably what mother and daughter are good at.

"Follow through, same as before."

(Yes.)

Minimal exchange. Then I look at Saint Night.

He cracks his neck with a pop.

I see his fists—cracks between claw and claw, splitting open.

No blood. Instead, something worse oozes out.

No question—definitely not human.

Saint Night notices my gaze. Looks down at his own hands.

And he grins.

"Hey, Akito—don’t get cocky just 'cause of this."

"... "

"Feels like a scratch to me now. Barely even a scratch."

Saint Night clenches his fist. The wound seals shut in an instant.

"Is that the demon god’s power?"

"Yeah. Pretty neat, huh, Akito? You can do stuff like this with it."

He waves a hand. A black, orb-like thing smacks into the ground.

The earth explodes. A crater forms.

After a moment, a monster crawls out.

A mud figure. Barely humanoid, melting from the head down like dripping wax.

Not gray like dirt, though. No—black, pitch-dark, straight from Saint Night’s hand.

"Can you make monsters like that?"

"Far from it."

He waves again. Two sigils bloom on either side.

Light—black, pitch-dark, straight from Saint Night’s hand—engulfed me at the speed of light.

I braced myself.

“Don’t tense up. Not an attack.”

Saint Night spoke. And just like that, no feeling of being attacked.

The light faded fast, sinking back into the magic circle.

Then, two humans emerged from within the circle.

“Maraht! Maxim!”

The once-feared enemy. Maraht, the former ruler of Rebeck. And Maxim, the man with the insect-like face.

They glared at me, furious.

But didn’t speak. Didn’t move.

Just stared. Locked in place.

Eyes blazing with rage. Like they’d leap at me any second.

“…Summoning. And this one’s one where the summoned are bound under the summoner’s control.”

“Yeah, you’re catching on.”

“Saint Night…”

I glared at Saint Night, who’d summoned Maraht and Maxim.

“How’s it feel? I can make things too. Even like this.”

Stepping forward, she waved her hand with a smug grin.

"I can remake the dead too."

"……"

"The Goddess was wrong, Akito. Trying to rebuild the world with some tiny card? Pathetic. We should've used the power of the Demon God. If we restore all of it, we can remake this world in an instant. Then we’d have world rebirth."

"There’s no smile in that."

She dismissed Saint Night.

She didn’t know exactly what the Demon God’s power could do—but she knew now.

After seeing the ability to summon monsters, to bring the dead back to life—she knew for certain.

There was no room for a smile there.

"——pff."

Saint Night burst out laughing.

She looked at me like she’d just witnessed the funniest joke of the century.

"A smile? You said 'smile,' Akito?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Again with that nonsense?"

"It’s not nonsense."

"Autumn, look at reality. How much time did you waste? What kind of country did you even build?"

"What are you getting at?"

"If I reclaim all the power of the Demon God... yeah, that kind of thing could be done in a single night."

"Same old story. No smile there."

"Hah."

Shunya shrugs, as if this whole conversation is pointless.

I—pulled Risha out of the True Eternal Slave.

"—!"

Shunya’s expression shifts the moment she sees her.

Next, I brought out Bella.

Her daughter, a tiny Eternal Slave who looks just like Risha.

I stroke Risha’s cheek. Then Bella’s head.

"Let me borrow your strength."

" Yes."

The two voices sync, their faces breaking into smiles.

"Autumn!!!"

Shunya lunges forward.

Face twisted like a demon, claws raised.

I expected this. She’d take Risha and her daughter, absorb them into the True Eternal Slave—then destroy them.

"Shuuto! You! Stealing a person's slave like that!"

"Better you get stolen. You treated your slave wrong in the first place."

"What's wrong with making a slave obey by force?!"

"No! A slave is something to be loved!"

The clash of sword and claw—metal shrieking in the air.

Another round of this same exchange, repeated too many times to count between Shuuto and Saint Night.

Push and pull. Stalemate.

"Always playing games! Then—!"

In an instant, killing intent slammed from both sides.

Ducked under the earth-toned armor—still pierced through.

Cut across shoulder and ribs. Backed off, retaliating.

Marat and Maxim.

They’d regained movement. Still couldn’t speak.

They lunged in unison.

"Die, Shuuto!"

Saint Night surged forward again—attacking with them, in perfect sync.

Now on the defensive, completely on the back foot.

Saint Night, Malart, Maxim.

Three against one—no way that’s even odds.

I was shoved back.

“What’s the matter, Akito? Is that supposed to be your ‘smile power’? Can’t do anything with that kind of strength.”

Claws raked my right shoulder. I was sent flying by Malart’s blade.

Face-first into the dirt, rolling with the momentum.

Saint Night approached, looming over me, smirking down like a victor.

“End of the line, Akito. Weaklings who talk about ‘smiles’ should just vanish from this world.”

Her claw raised high.

I braced myself, ready to block with True Eternal Slave—

but the claw never came.

Instead, a barrage of cannonballs screamed through the air.

Dozens of shells arced overhead, thundering down.

Saint Night flinched, dodging, deflecting.

Malart and Maxim weren’t so lucky.

She tried to dodge, but was struck one after another, collapsing with a strange, squelching sound.

“W-what the hell is this?”

“…Artillery fire from Rebeck.”

To the flustered Saint Night.

“You were trying to steal it, weren’t you, Night? This is Rebeck’s artillery.”

“Wha—?”

“Saint Night. Compared to the power of the Demon God, I may be weak. But that’s okay.”

“What?!”

“I’m not a warrior. Not a hero. I’m—king.”

“King…?”

“A king doesn’t have to be the strongest on the battlefield.”

“Nonsense—”

Saint Night’s rebuttal was cut short as she was blasted sideways.

A massive cannonball, hurled from the side, sent her flying.

A cannonball bigger than a human—main cannon of the warship Risha.

She turned her head. The warship was aiming its barrel right at her.

“Ah… too…”

Saint Night rising, battered but still on her feet.

Still moving after taking that—(Risha’s main cannon)—well, you could call her a true demon god, I suppose.

But the warship wasn’t the only one coming.

From the opposite side, drums and war cries echoed.

Charging through the dust storm: the Kazan people—the nation’s elite warriors.

At the front, Mirta’s silhouette stood clear.

And the barrage from Rebeck continued.

“Master…”

A voice came from behind.

She turned. Five Eternal Slaves stood there.

Risha, Mira, Yuria, Rirya, and Sveta.

Five women, each with a daughter beside them.

They’d come running.

“...Sveta—later. A proper lecture.”

“Yes!”

Sveta replied, face set with grim resolve.

Slaves, warship, warrior tribes, city bombardment.

"Saint Night, this is my power."

"..."

"Shall I show you? All of them, laughing."

The next instant, the announcement in his mind blared out, deafening.

Twelve souls' worth of magical charge.

No need to turn around—he already knew the slaves were laughing.

"Is this power above yours, Saint Night?"

"——Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

Saint Night charged in.

Slowed down, weak, half-hearted.

The True Eternal Slave caught her, severed both arms and legs.

Then, 'my power' surged toward Saint Night.

And Saint Night—along with the demon god's strength—was erased, utterly, completely.