The blood pool at Ose’s feet splits with that sound.
“……?”
Its grin still stretched unnaturally wide, Ose tilts its head.
A shadow descends—carrying white frost.
Accompanied by two figures, it steps toward Ose.
“Too lax… I never expected a Greater Demon.”
From beneath a gray hood—piercing eyes lock onto Ose.
Sensing the immense magic, Ose’s smile widens.
“Ahh, O Demon King!! Tonight, fortune smiles upon me! This too is Your guidance!”
Twisting its body theatrically, Ose flings its arms wide.
“Now, my servants! The feast is not yet over! Tonight, we dine! Devour them ALL!!”
The darkness surges again. The ant-like horde moves as one, swallowing the figures.
Demons trample each other, rising like a tsunami—leaving no escape.
“HAHAHAHAHAH!! Why are humans so foolish? Catch one, and the rest swarm like insects… Too easy!!”
“[Ice-Forged Monster: Jack Frost].”
A wave of cold erupts from the figure’s feet—engulfing the horde.
Freeze.
The ant-like tide is instantly encased in ice, motionless.
The cold spreads through ground and air—reaching Ose.
“Hmph.”
Annoyed, Ose flicks its hand.
The frost dissipates—as if nothing happened.
“A nuisance… Ice magic. Lesser Demons are ill-suited for this… Fine.”
A signal—and the mid-tier Demons stir.
[GU-GIIIIIIIIIIIH!! OOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!]
A chorus of roars. Their bodies shroud in a faint black mist.
“Raise their magic resistance, and ice is nothing.”
Unlike the Lesser Demons, the mid-tier ones do not falter—forming battle stances despite the cold.
Unfrozen. Waiting for Ose’s command.
“How presumptuous—did slaughtering lesser demons like Lesser Demons inflate your confidence? …But these are my creations, Ose’s special breed.”
These were no mere Mid-Rank Demons.
The ice trapping the lesser demons cracked audibly, fissures spreading like spiderwebs.
Inside, the writhing Mushi-Ari (Ant Demons) fixed their compound eyes and skittering legs on their target, poised to swarm the moment the ice shattered.
“A pity. I am a Greater Demon—and my followers are leagues above the common rabble. This ends now.”
Ose swung her arm down.
A cacophony of shattering ice filled the air as the frozen prison exploded, unleashing a flood of chitinous horrors.
The Mid-Rank Demons roared, closing in—
“Then let us part ways amiably. Kindly submit as fodder.”
“Garm.”
“────RROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAGH!!”
Ants burst midair, raining gore and severed limbs.
Blood sprayed from Ose’s ears as the Demons staggered back, their hides peppered with wounds.
“Impressive.”
“Ehehe! You praised me!”
Before Ose could blink at the incomprehensible spectacle, a cheerful voice rang out.
The central figure finished ruffling his companion’s hair and extended a hand toward the other shadow.
“No holding back. Nifl.”
“Understood. Treasury Goetia, No.—”
“Ah, was it… sixty-four?”
As the pair exchanged nonsense, the woman among them split her own abdomen open—
revealing not blood, but abyssal darkness.
Ose, frantic, channeled mana to heal her Demons, but the delay cost her their momentum.
“Go ahead.”
“No, Nifl you take it out.”
“Go ahead.”
“I said—”
“Go ahead.”
“Ugh—fine!”
The man plunged his hand into the woman’s void.
“Hahh… hahh…” She panted, visibly thrilled by the violation.
With a slick schlorp, he withdrew—a blade wreathed in hellfire.
“After all, fire is the best way to get rid of bugs, isn’t it?”
The weapon’s weight bent his stance, his silhouette wavering like mirage.
Ose sensed it—the aura of a fellow Greater Demon within that sword.
“Oh yeah, this one had a leopard face like yours.”
The weapon in his grip was unmistakable:
“The 64th Flameblade, Sword of Flauros. I have a skilled smith among my subordinates. Fitting, no? Dying by a sword forged from your own kind?”
“I won’t kill you yet, though—got questions.” He stretched casually.
“Both of you, stay back. …Cover me if things go south.”
“”Understood.””
Melting his own ice-landscape with the sword’s heat, he strode forward, tossing back his hood.
“You’re the President, right? Pathetic—the weakest Greater Demon playing general… Thanks for the army. You’re the prey here, Recluse-in-Chief.”
Trailed by heat-haze, the Corpse King dragged his sword, leaving Nifl and Garm to watch in silence.
Stay back. He’d ordered it.
“Ugh… I wanna help…”
Garm’s whisper went unheard as Nifl stroked her wolf ears, eyes locked on the coming storm.
“The Corpse King seeks to reclaim his strength. We must witness it.”
What he needed was corpses. A mountain of them—his staircase to ascension.
We cannot rob him of this. Nifl steeled herself.
Yet she knew: The Corpse King wasn’t omnipotent. If death loomed, he’d rely on them.
They followed, supported—and he, in turn, leaned on them.
This symbiosis was Helheim’s true foundation.
Trust let him bare his back to them.
“Some things… never change.”
Not as a subordinate—but as one who remembered him from the beginning, Nifl exhaled the words.
■
It’s been a while.
The one-handed blade, light enough to wield singlehandedly, scorched the air with radiant heat.
I don’t know any swordsmanship.
So—brute force.
“Flauros.”
The sword roared to life, flames churning.
Its searing edge took shape as I funneled every drop of mana into fire.
Hefting the weighty blade sideways—
“HRAAGH!!”
—I swung.
The inferno that erupted devoured the frontline Mushi-Ari horde with deafening fury.
[────KSSHH!! G-Giiii────]
Screeching, steaming, the ants flailed as their bodies blackened.
Even their dropped materials burned to cinders.
Only charcoal remained.
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Ability:
[Blessing of Death] Total: 1,842
Authority Unlocked per lives taken. [742/2,000]
Lv1 Pain Null [100/100]
Lv2 Fear Immunity [1,000/1,000]
The number of creatures slaughtered by the current wave of fire is over three hundred.
And yet the Mushi-Ari show no sign of slowing down, and their instincts continue to drive them to swarm around me.
I have about 1,300 more to go before I can release my authority.
“B-Bluffing!! Flauros?! A Duke-class Greater Demon losing to a human?! My servants, press on!”
Ose flailed against the heatwaves, face twisted with panic—yet her voice dripped arrogance as she mustered mana.
From the void, an endless tide of Mushi-Ari surged forth.
Perfect fodder.
“Tough break being weak, Mr. President!”
I stabbed the blade into the earth, channeling mana—flames tunneled underground.
The terrain split, white fire erupting from fissures. Pillars of flame engulfed the swarm, charring them alive.
Ose retreated, oblivious she was feeding the fire.
Burn. Kill. Scorch. Kill. Melt. Kill.
Kill. Kill. KILL.
Each pile of smoldering corpses fueled the urge.
A few middle-class demon-demons can only stand there to protect Ose, unable to move their legs against the hot wind of the melting hull and the fire pillars.
~1,000 left.
The sword’s mana drain left me gasping.
Ose’s grin twitched.
“Oho… winded already? Mana running dry?”
“Shut UP!”
I tore the sword free, cleaving sideways—
~600 left.
“Ahaha! Squandering power on Lesser Demons? You’ll never reach me!”
Regaining composure, she taunted.
You’re the one cornered.
“Hey, Prez—running low on ants?”
Still a horde, but their momentum waned.
There are only a few visible Lesser Demons left.nearly gone.
Catching my breath, I charged into the swarm, sword trailing.
A sweeping strike bathed the surroundings in fire.
~400 left.
“More than enough to kill you. I’ll enjoy enslaving you!”
Having forgotten Nifl and Garm entirely, Ose spread her arms triumphantly.
At “enslave,” the two twitched—I halted them with a glare.
My mana was nearly spent. Greater Demon arms devoured it.
In my prime, this’d be trivial… but rust shows.
Yet victory was certain.
The corpse-path underfoot felt right. Memories of my Corpse King days—of slaughtering Demon Lords—flooded back. Classmates’ faces surfaced with every kill.
Whenever I kill something, I think of them.
No pain. No fear. Nothing left to feel.
Wrapped in flames, I burned ants latched onto my limbs.
“RROOOOOOOOOOOOAAAGH!!”
A bestial roar. I poured my last mana into the sword—
The inferno swallowed the horde. Charred Mushi-Ari crumbled, clearing my path.
No Lesser Demons remained.
One more.
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