Afterward, Clay used the information he’d gathered from the hideout to track down several more nearby dens.

—“W-Who the hell are you?!”

—“Wait, the Demon King?! Gaaah!”

—“Please, spare me!”

Their endings were always the same.

Clay didn’t give them a chance to explain. He simply tore, shattered, and killed.

Even after wiping out hundreds, it wasn’t enough to satisfy him.

“So this is what it was.”

Standing amidst the carnage of the most recent hideout, Clay murmured blankly.

“This is why it becomes impossible to stop.”

He finally understood why the former Demon King had seemed so utterly insane.

“Demon King.”

At some point, Syltanaro had appeared beside him.

“Are you all right?”

Her face flickered in the torchlight of the hideout.

It was night.

Yet through the open door, dawn had begun to bleed in. Time had passed rapidly while they’d been moving nonstop.

“……”

Clay didn’t answer immediately. He paused to steady his breath, then turned his eyes slightly away from Syltanaro as he spoke.

“…Sorry.”

He had lost control. It felt unfair. He couldn’t understand what he’d done so wrong to deserve such torment.

Unbearable emotions had poured out. But there had been no way to express them. All he could do was roar and unleash them.

Like a beast.

He felt distant from humanity, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. In fact, his head had cleared. Once he’d cast away the dregs of conviction and bared the claws of the beast, everything had become simple.

Domination and submission.

That was the easiest, most comfortable way for a Demon King to escape emotional pain. Just force others to align with his mood—and the suffering would lessen.

“Did I seem… hideous?”

Maybe it was because there was no mirror here. He didn’t know how he looked.

If it was uglier than expected… he wasn’t sure what that would do to him. He had never lived an ugly life. Even if it gave him freedom, he wasn’t confident he could accept a version of himself beyond the fence.

“You didn’t.”

Syltanaro told him.

“You looked rightful.”

She placed a hand to her chest.

“When I first met you, I revealed everything about myself without hiding anything. And you never looked at me as if I were hideous.”

“Because that was your honest self.”

“And this is the same. It’s simply your time to be honest too.”

When a broken heart becomes isolated and unstable, the truth inside inevitably rises from the depths.

“That may be the version of yourself closest to your true nature.”

His current essence.

“…I see.”

So now he was finally seeing himself as the Demon King.

Clay let out a faint laugh. He wasn’t particularly shaken. When he had lived as a Hero, he had fought with conviction and taken pride in embodying that ideal.

But that hadn’t been the full picture. There were cruel, destructive, immature, and cold parts of him as well.

He had hidden all that. There had been times when hiding it was the only way to obtain everything—and old habits die hard.

But now, after losing everything, he finally understood the power he held in his hands. Power that no longer needed restraint. Power that could move everything.

“…Thank you.”

Clay shifted his words.

“I might’ve lost my way if not for you. Syltanaro, you’ve helped me save time.”

“No… I only said what came to mind… But thank you for saying that.”

She turned her eyes away, flustered. Clay followed her gaze, then asked:

“Where’s Naiad?”

“She’s outside.”

At that, Clay stepped out of the hideout.

Under the pale light of dawn, Naiad sat atop a large boulder.

“Naiad.”

“Don’t worry.”

She replied without even turning her head.

“You always teased me about it, but I really have lived a long time.”

She was a supreme spirit, even if a bit emotionally vulnerable.

“I’ve seen it all—things I wanted to see and things I didn’t. There were jerks who raged for no reason. Compared to them, you’re still within the range of normal.”

“‘Normal,’ is it?”

“Well… not technically normal. But y’know—truth is, I don’t want to be normal anymore either.”

Naiad turned her eyes to Clay.

“You said Elhaen’s involved, right?”

Blue light shimmered around her like heat haze.

“If she’s been pulling the strings and got us all into this mess, I’m not letting it slide.”

Ever since Clay had returned from the execution platform, everything had changed. Even if they kept living by the momentum of those changes, the path forward was now clear.

“Do whatever you want, Clay. I’m going with you either way.”

“Are you sure?”

“If you’re there, I’ll be fine.”

She said it like a confession.

“Remember our promise? That I’d stay with you, no matter what form you took.”

It hadn’t been an empty vow.

“Even if you become the most ‘Demon King-like’ Demon King, it’s the same. Just… think of me that way too. Then I’ll accept it. All of it.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“That’s why I’m saying this now—before you get any stupid ideas.”

Naiad locked eyes with him.

“Don’t you dare try to push me away with that mindset. I’m the only one left beside you. I’m the only one who can completely accept you. Don’t forget that.”

Clay saw something twisted in her gaze too.

Unlike those who lived in this world, she belonged to something far beyond it. She had always shown signs of unease.

And now… Clay could feel exactly how she was interpreting all of this.

“…Yeah.”

But Clay didn’t say any of that aloud.

Because none of it mattered anymore.

He reached out a hand to Naiad.

“Let’s go.”

Naiad took his hand—just as she always had.

♧

“What a damn mess.”

The god of the newly revived Atana Faith, Athanasia, wiped sweat from her brow as she heard the latest report.

“Someone’s going around claiming to be a follower of Atana Faith and tearing up the back alleys?”

A man in a white robe was said to be hunting down and killing those threatening the peace in Yaphenon.

They didn’t know who he was. But for Athanasia, it was troublesome.

I was planning to gradually expand the faith and then clean things up later.

If this kept up, the lowlifes of Yaphenon might try to retaliate against the Atana Faith. Most of the believers they had gathered so far were just ordinary people, so they needed to keep things relatively calm at first to avoid scaring them off.

Well… unless we could suppress everything from the start.

If they could completely seize control of the underworld, things would be different. But that required knowing Yaphenon intimately.

If it’s the Demon King…

He knew far too much—not just about people, but about how countries functioned. Enough that many humans regretted ever turning him into an enemy. Of course, back then, no one could’ve expected him to come back to life.

Either way, I need to see for myself.

She had to find out whether this person was simply cleaning up criminals or trying to take over the underworld for himself. And since he was using the Atana Faith’s name so openly, it would be a big problem if things went wrong.

“Neville, you heard? I’m stepping out for a bit.”

Neville stood at her side. He looked up from the documents on the desk and responded,

“Is it all right for you to go in person? Shouldn’t we inform Lord Clay first?”

“It’ll be even worse if I don’t go.” Athanasia sighed, “Clay told me to make sure Yaphenon is completely secured. If something happens to the flow of new believers, he’s definitely going to have something to say.”

“I see.” Neville nodded, “Understood. I’ll take over the administrative side of the Atana Faith until you return.”

The Atana Faith wasn’t solely Athanasia’s domain. Neville had been secretly mobilizing his administrative network to help the religion expand its influence.

Those personally selected by Athanasia were embedded into the reconstruction efforts, gradually spreading doctrine and blending the faith into Yaphenon.

“Still, I know I’m in no position to talk… but aren’t you afraid Elhaen’s going to hate you?”

Neville was the crown prince of Holy Krata. Of all people, he should have been the most loyal to Elhaen. And yet, here he was, aiding in the rise of the Atana Faith. Even with Elhaen currently absent, Krata wouldn’t sit still forever.

“…It’ll be fine.” Neville gave a dry laugh, “Krata must already know that I’m acting as regent here. Yet my father hasn’t made a single move. For whatever reason, he’s chosen to leave me be. If they’re not worried about me, I don’t have to be worried either.”

“That so?”

“And I think Lord Clay predicted this situation when he sent me.”

There was no way he would’ve dispatched Neville so close to the Krata border without thinking it through.

“It might’ve even been a trap. He could be using me to gauge Krata’s response.”

“You think he’s using you to get a reaction?”

“Yes. My father may not come in person, but he might send someone—or reinforce their defenses and hole up. Either way, Clay might’ve wanted to confirm it.”

Athanasia rubbed her chin.

“If that’s true… Clay is terrifying.” Sending Neville into potential danger without blinking an eye, “You could’ve been killed.”

“That’s probably why he sent you.”

Athanasia was an ancient god. Even weakened, she was more than enough to protect someone like Neville.

“Even if I was the gambit, Clay didn’t throw me out thoughtlessly.”

“You’re surprisingly positive about this.”

“Maybe I’m just an optimist. Either way, Lord Clay gave me his word.”

That even at the end of destruction, he would not cross the final line.

“Lord Clay will go all the way. I’m just doing what I can from where I stand.”

And if he didn’t?

Then humanity would survive in a different way. Neville had simply prepared himself as a contingency in case Clay’s worst-case scenario unfolded.

“Well… okay.”

Athanasia decided not to think too deeply about it. Just as she had allied with Clay for her own survival, Neville surely had his own reasoning too—and she would respect that.

“Well then, I’ll leave it all to you. I’m off.”

Dressed in white robes adorned with golden trim, offered by her believers, Athanasia stepped forward.

“It’s time for a god to get involved.”

(End of Chapter)

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