After the ancient god Vlad was defeated before even crossing into Donon, rumors of the Hero’s return spread rapidly across the continent.

“They say the Hero’s really alive.”

“I thought all of that was just nonsense…”

“Someone claims to have actually spoken with him.”

Even those who had been skeptical of all the previous sightings now accepted his appearance as fact.

“I heard someone captured him on a visual orb.”

And for good reason—footage had surfaced showing him fighting Vlad and speaking with villagers.

No one knew who had taken such a rare device all the way there, recorded it, and leaked it, but regardless, people had come to accept the Hero’s return.

Not just a shell of the Hero—he had truly come back.

“Who can possibly understand what he’s thinking…”

In a village devastated in the wake of Vlad’s path through Yaphenon, a man sighed with his face hidden beneath a hooded robe.

Yaphenon had been ripped apart, with its territory decimated as the ancient god passed through the capital and other major cities.

Even for a nation hardened by brutal warfare, this was a catastrophe too great to overcome.

Step, step.

The man slowly walked through the ruins of the village. Cries and moans echoed around him. Someone even grabbed his ankle.

“P-please… help me. I—I can’t move…”

He bent down to help, extending a hand—but the person holding his ankle had already died.

The man rose to his feet. As the hood of his robe slipped down, his face was revealed.

“…Huh?”

A gasp echoed around him.

“W-Wait… isn’t that…?”

“Isn’t that the Crown Prince?!”

“Prince Neville?!”

Neville, Crown Prince of Krata.

Having frequently represented Emperor Lutan at official functions, his face was well-known even in the most remote villages within the Holy Alliance.

“I can’t believe it! It really is Prince Neville!”

“Where have you been all this time?!”

“How did you end up here?!”

He had been presumed missing. With little known about the incident, rumors had spread—some claiming he’d been killed by demons.

“I was…”

Of course, some people knew he’d been abducted by the Demon King. But Neville wasted no time, determined not to let their shock linger.

“I was under the protection of the Demon King.”

Now that people had confirmed that the Demon King Clay was no mere puppet, but truly the former Hero himself, Neville had to ensure that negative public sentiment didn’t rise again.

They had agreed to cooperate—for humanity’s survival.

“I wasn’t missing or kidnapped. The Demon King saved me.”

“W-What…?”

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

“T-The Demon King saved you…?”

“The Demon King… as in the former Hero…?”

“He even protected the Crown Prince?”

Faces filled with confusion and doubt. Watching their rising uncertainty, Neville let out a soft sigh.

This won’t be easy.

Clay had offered to give Neville a platform. But it wasn’t a gift—it came with expectations.

To divide humanity.

To balance Krata’s dominance and create a faction of humans that did not antagonize demons. Neville was to be the key.

I understand this is necessary…

Emperor Lutan had awakened ancient gods and plunged the entire continent into danger. He wasn’t just a hypocrite anymore—he was evil.

Driven by hatred for the Hero, he had orchestrated Clay’s execution and resurrected ancient calamities, pushing humanity to the brink. He was nothing short of a mad tyrant.

Only Clay remained to stop him—even if that meant taking drastic measures.

And if Clay was going to face Krata, then Neville had to act—to protect as many innocent lives as possible from shedding blood over prejudice and lies.

I already know what I must do.

Neville had witnessed Clay saving people from the ancient god’s rampage. That memory gave him conviction.

“There are heretics in Krata. They’ve turned against Elhaen and humanity itself. They’re trying to drag the world back to a primeval age. They’ve even shackled His Majesty Emperor Lutan inside Krata and are manipulating him.”

“W-What?”

“What does that mean…?”

“I understand this is sudden. You’re already shocked to see me alive.” He spoke as he had prepared, “But you’ve all seen it with your own eyes. The sealed ancient gods have awakened and wrought devastation.”

And for that to happen, someone must have broken the seal. Everyone here understood that.

“This is a state of emergency. I would have died too—if not for Lord Clay.”

Now, it was time for Neville to make his move.

“In truth, Lord Clay was framed by those heretics. He was unjustly condemned.”

“?!”

“F-Framed?!”

“You may find it hard to believe, but you saw it yourselves. He became the Demon King to gather strength—and used that power to save you.”

He gave them no time to dwell in doubt.

“I will do what I must to resolve this crisis.”

It was a declaration.

“I, Neville, Crown Prince of Krata, hereby invoke the Alliance Law, which allows the official heir of Krata to act as interim leader in any member nation that has fallen into collapse without leadership. As such, I will now assume command of Yaphenon. I will restore its foundation and eradicate the heretics who caused all of this!”

And with that, he declared Holy War.

♧

“Hey, Clay.”

Naiad asked as they approached the outskirts of the Demon Realm.

“Do you really think people will follow Neville so easily?”

Her voice came with a soft sigh of concern.

“No matter how much it’s Neville, people will still find it suspicious that he suddenly showed up to defend the Demon King…”

“That doesn’t matter,” Clay replied calmly, “Right now, people can’t even tell who their enemies are. If even a single stone can be tossed into the waters and stir ripples, it’s enough.”

And that stone wasn’t even small to begin with.

“Besides, Lutan can’t even leave Krata right now. He won’t be able to directly refute Neville’s words. It’ll be impossible to fully dispel all doubts.”

“Because he has to deal with the demonic pit inside Krata?”

“That’s not incorrect,” Clay said, turning to Naiad. “But that’s not how I’d explain it.”

“It’s because that’s where Lutan is at his strongest.”

Krata was built upon land blessed by Elhaen—a holy ground.

No one knew how a demonic pit had formed there, but so long as he remained within Krata, Lutan could draw upon Elhaen’s power to its fullest. In that place alone, even Clay at his prime couldn’t guarantee victory.

“To Lutan, Krata is more like a shackle.”

The divine blessing had, ironically, become his chain.

“Now that I’ve reappeared, Lutan’s not going to leave Krata. That old man would never fight unless the odds are fully in his favor.”

In the meantime, Clay planned to use Neville to establish a bridgehead that would allow him to move freely among humans.

“The results I need—Neville will be able to deliver.”

There was no need to accomplish everything in one move. As long as the chaos continued to build, and the forks in the road shaped by Clay's design formed, he would be able to slip through the gaps and reach the point he needed.

“…You really have become a Demon King,” Naiad muttered with a sigh.

Clay responded coolly.

“I’m only using methods I couldn’t before.”

As a Hero, the pride he had held had severely limited what he could do.

But now it was different. He had been executed, resurrected, and taken the Demon King’s seat. Along the way, his pride had transformed into hatred.

And hatred made him want to bring his enemies to their knees by any means necessary—no matter how vile, cruel, or horrifying.

“That’s the man I chose.”

Clay turned away, but Naiad flew in front of him and grabbed both his cheeks with her small hands.

“Yes! That’s the man I chose!”

She shouted, refusing to be ignored.

“No matter what you do, I’m going with you! I’ll paint my whole body black if I have to!”

“…”

“I’m here because I want to be with the you that exists now!”

It was her unwavering resolve.

“So don’t think I got dragged into this just because of you, you dumb idiot!”

It was a phrase he hadn’t heard in a long time.

Clay couldn’t help but laugh.

“Huh? What? Is that funny?”

“Yeah.”

Seeing his old comrade, feeling his heart sway—it made him smile.

Maybe the one feeling the most confused of all was Clay himself.

“Syltanaro.”

But confusion never stopped him from doing what needed to be done.

He had always been the kind of man who, once he made up his mind, saw things through to the very end. That strength had always been his.

“The blood you’ve absorbed is trying to invade my body.”

Crack, crack…

Though Syltanaro remained silent, veins like creeping vines had sprouted from its hilt and coiled tightly around Clay’s hand.

“Naiad.”

He spoke to the one who stood watch in front of him.

“I think I’ll have to step away for a bit.”

“Huh? All of a sudden? Where are you—?”

Clay’s body suddenly stopped moving.

He had just entered the Demon Realm, but now his legs wouldn’t budge.

“I have one request.”

“W-What is it?!”

“I want you to stay by my side.”

He hadn’t brought any soldiers from the Demon King’s army to avoid stoking prejudice among humans. That meant he had no guards with him now.

“The Demon Realm is still home to savage primitive demons. If any of those beast-like ones attack me, I’ll be counting on you to protect me.”

“Wait, what?! You can’t move? What’s wrong?!”

“I don’t know. No… this is…”

Clay suddenly dropped to one knee, overcome by the sensation of his consciousness sinking into a murky abyss.

“…Vlad’s will?”

The residual consciousness mixed in with Vlad’s blood was now trying to devour Clay from within.

“Wh-What do we do?! What if it’s trying to take over your mind or something?!”

“It’s fine.”

Despite Naiad’s frantic shouting, Clay smiled.

“Have I ever been controlled by anyone before?”

“…Ah.”

“I might as well check—see if it’s still doing okay in there.”

That prison deep within his spiritual world, where the wills that once tried to dominate him were still confined—.

(End of Chapter)

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