Golde, the miner.

He still couldn’t shut his mouth from the shock of what had just happened.

‘What in the world just happened?’

A monster beyond imagination had appeared in Donon, slaughtering people at will—and then Clay, the executed Hero, had shown up.

But that wasn’t all. Clay had vanquished the monster and saved the people.

“Ha… haah.”

All he could do was sigh.

After all, until the moment Clay appeared, Golde had assumed him to be nothing but Beatrice’s puppet.

From the moment he’d uttered the word “Demon King” himself, it was clear Clay was no longer the man Golde once knew. And yet… the impossible had occurred.

“He… saved us.”

Clay hadn’t just fought the monster—he had protected people. He wielded his sword not out of vengeance or duty, but to prevent further loss.

He had become a shield.

That was unmistakably—

“That’s the Clay I knew.”

Not a puppet of Beatrice. If he were just her pawn, there was no way he’d have acted like that.

“Ah…”

Golde slowly raised both hands.

“You’ve returned.”

He didn’t know how Clay had survived his execution. What mattered was that Clay still stood on the side of the people.

“Clay…”

Rumors had long circulated that Clay was executed by the Holy Krata under the guise of political justice. Whispers had spread quietly among those who dared to believe that he had been sacrificed.

Even in Donon, many miners had heard the rumors and remained uncertain—neither believing nor denying them.

But just now, the balance of that doubt had tilted.

“C-Clay!”

“Sir Clay!”

And the scale, once tipped, swiftly crashed to one side.

“Th-Thank you!”

“You saved us!”

“We thought we were going to die…!”

Dozens of miners wailed as they looked toward Clay—just like back then, when he’d once saved them from other threats.

“H-But he said he’s a Demon King…”

“He joined the demons, didn’t he?”

“Did he really save us…?”

There were still a few lingering doubts.

“It’s fortunate we could save so many.”

But Clay’s calm murmur to the crowd quelled even those voices.

“He really protected us!”

The people surged toward him.

“Sir Clay, I’m sorry for doubting you!”

“How did you come back to life?”

“And what’s with this whole Demon King thing…?”

Of all their questions, none rang louder than the one about the title he had claimed for himself.

“There were circumstances,” Clay replied softly. “Ones that forced me to make use of the demons.”

“That rumor… it was true…?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

He lowered his gaze.

“This is my burden to bear.”

He didn’t try to act noble. There was no need.

“So please, just pray that this trial ends with me alone.”

That I may burn away together with those who twist the will of the gods.

Those final words left the people staring in stunned silence.

“Then…”

Clay turned and began to walk. He didn’t bask in their praise—he simply walked, calm and alone.

“Ah…”

Only then did the people begin to understand.

“That’s it…”

“Sir Clay took on the sin himself.”

“To root out the real evil…”

Through the crowd, a single streak of blue passed quietly.

The Spirit King of Water—Naiad.

She followed in Clay’s footsteps, and the people watched her silently. They stood there for a long time, gazing until their figures finally faded from sight.

And the story those people began to speak of—about what happened that day—soon spread far beyond the borders of Donon.

♧

The ancient god, the Blood Sovereign Vlad—vanquished.

“Clay beat Vlad…?”

Ravi, who had witnessed the aftermath with her own eyes nearby, clutched her head.

“This is insane…”

Sure, Athanasia being unsealed was one thing, but Vlad had been summoned into this world using a ritual prepared in advance by Yaphenon.

He should’ve been overwhelmingly powerful. He’d consumed blood from entire cities, becoming an even greater monster.

For Clay to have defeated that Vlad was something she simply couldn’t comprehend.

“He’s not just a corpse…”

There had been some intel, but Ravi still hadn’t fully believed that Clay had truly come back to life.

It wasn’t unreasonable. She’d seen Clay hanged with her own eyes. A revenant might be one thing—but resurrection? That belonged to a different realm entirely.

Even if all the Tower Masters and high priests combined their powers, it shouldn’t have been possible.

“If he really did come back…”

Her expression twisted.

“Damn it.”

Clay had been executed under the authority of the Holy Alliance. If he had truly returned as himself, then where his blade would turn next was obvious.

“So that’s why he became the Demon King.”

Her lips curled into a bitter smile.

Until now, she had believed Beatrice was simply animating Clay’s corpse with exquisite craftsmanship.

Even though the Emperor of Krata had issued orders assuming Clay’s resurrection, she hadn’t worried too much.

The Hero was dead. Even if something wearing his face still moved around, it clearly wasn’t functioning like a real person.

But after seeing Clay face Vlad, she could no longer deny it.

That really was him.

That overwhelming strength—there was no explaining it unless his will was truly his own. Only Clay’s will could wield power like that.

“So damn annoying…”

Now that she had accepted it as truth, Ravi already had a headache.

“Lady Ravi.”

A voice suddenly called out, and Ravi whipped her head around.

“It was true, wasn’t it?”

There stood an elf with long, flowing white hair and piercing green eyes.

“There really was someone spying on this place. And a Guardian Knight at that.”

“W-What?!”

Ravi jumped in surprise and stumbled backward.

“Y-Yelena…?”

One of the Hero’s former party members—the elf herself.

The leader of all elves, known as the Archer of Stellar Rain, who wielded the power of the stars in her arrows—

Yelena.

She now stood before Ravi.

“Why are you here?”

Yelena didn’t answer. She simply stared at Ravi, her pupils listless within black-rimmed eyes.

“W-What the hell?!”

“Would you mind telling me,” Yelena asked calmly, “Why you were spying?”

A sudden question.

Ravi exhaled a frustrated breath, her expression flustered.

“What are you even talking about, showing up out of nowhere?! I was just out here to observe the situation after an ancient god appeared! What spying?!”

“I see.”

“Yeah! What about you? Were you following me or something?”

“No.”

Yelena raised her bow.

“You just happened to be the spy I found.”

“!”

Fwip!

An arrow shot from the taut bowstring brushed past Ravi’s head as she jerked to the side.

BOOM!

The boulder behind her exploded, shattered into fragments by the rainbow-colored trail of the arrow. There was no way something like that could be called just a simple arrow. Its power left Ravi visibly shaken.

And still, Yelena’s expression didn’t so much as twitch.

“Did Emperor Lutan tell you to do this?” she asked.

“W-What?”

“I’m asking if what happened to Clay was born of Emperor Lutan’s envy.”

A question that went beyond merely uncovering a spy. This was an accusation—one that pointed to the power behind Clay’s downfall.

Only now did Ravi realize why Yelena had come.

“You… you’re insane, aren’t you?”

To name Lutan so casually in such matters—against the will of Krata, the ruling power of the continent—was not just a political blunder. It was a potential declaration of war.

“You’re insulting His Majesty?!”

“Just answer the question.”

Yelena’s voice remained indifferent.

“Just answer, that’s all.”

“Hah!”

Though she remained flustered, Ravi forced herself to regain composure. She wouldn’t let Yelena lead the conversation.

“I didn’t come here to be interrogated by you.”

“Then what are you here for—really?”

“I’m not obligated to tell you anything!”

Ravi leapt forward, drawing two swords from her waist.

“You’re the one who owes me an answer now!”

Since she’d been attacked, she retaliated with force.

She crossed her blades like a pair of scissors, aiming for Yelena’s throat.

CLANG!

Before the blades could even cross properly, Yelena struck the intersection with her bow, slamming both swords into the ground.

“So much for wanting answers,”

WHAM!

Yelena kicked the staggering Ravi in the chest, sending her tumbling.

“Seems like you were aiming to kill me first.”

THUD!

Ravi rolled, but she quickly sprang back up and raised her swords again.

Wiping a trickle of blood from her nose, she yelled,

“What kind of bow is that, that it’s harder than a sword?!”

“It’s framed with a branch of the World Tree,” Yelena replied coolly, “and coated with powdered Garamantia ore.”

“Of course you’d make some divine bow with materials only you can get your hands on. How filthy. Tch!”

Ravi clenched her teeth and drew divine power.

“Whatever the case, you’ve now assaulted a Guardian Knight! You’ve insulted a direct envoy of Krata!”

“You’re calling yourself Krata’s lapdog now?”

Yelena drew her bowstring again. A radiant arrow naturally took shape.

“Guardian Knights don’t belong exclusively to Krata, last I checked.”

“Shut up!”

Divine energy surged around Ravi’s swords, enhancing their edge.

“You’re not doing this on your own, are you?! That Empress of Ezer—she’s the one pulling the strings, isn’t she?! Are you trying to help that bastard Hero-turned-Demon King?!”

“Who knows.”

“Ah~! So you all were traitors from the beginning?! Was it all some pre-written script—!”

Her outburst cut off mid-sentence. Ravi suddenly felt a torrent of killing intent trained on her and looked around.

“Oh, shit.”

Behind Yelena, amid the forest’s brush, stood dozens of white-haired elves, all with bows aimed squarely at her.

“I’m screwed.”

“Zodiac.”

With the whisper of a command from Yelena’s dry lips, a volley of arrows tore through the sky like constellations, painting the heavens in a deadly arc.

♧

『My Lord.』

On the road back.

Syltanaro, still in sword form and held in Clay’s hand, spoke up.

『Is it really alright not to confirm what that was?』

“It’s fine.”

Clay replied in a low voice as a distant explosion rumbled through the air.

“That’s not our concern.”

Almost as if he didn’t even want to care about it, he turned his gaze elsewhere.

The only one watching him was Naiad, floating silently through the empty air.

“What a mess of fates we’ve got,” she murmured—was it regret, or sorrow?

With a sigh that neither laughed nor cried, she rested her tiny head against Clay’s shoulder.

(End of Chapter)

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