Prologue
The Demon King.
The ruler of the demonkind, a scourge upon the world, a blight upon humanity, the enemy of all things whose footsteps herald ruin.
“Haah…… haah…… Gu—OOOOOOOOOH!!”
He was dying. To perish here, his ambitions left unfulfilled…
The heroes summoned from another world should have been annihilated.
The kingdom that summoned them had no strength left to fight back… or so it should have been.
Yet before the Demon King’s eyes, a group of men and women stood in formation, clearing a path as they attended to a single figure.
“——Corpse King.”
The Demon King’s armies had been wiped out.
By a mysterious faction led by one man.
[Corpse King Hel.]
At some point, he had appeared in this world, gained power, gathered followers, and begun his rampage.
And now, at last, his blade pressed against the Demon King’s throat.
“My name is the Corpse King. And I have come to deliver the blade of vengeance upon you.”
A boy, still young in voice, his face hidden behind a skeletal mask, his body clad in a colorless gray outer garb.
Click, click. The Corpse King stepped forward, his boots echoing against the ground.
His followers, lining the path on either side, watched him with rapture—reverence, awe, fear—rejoicing in his every step.
“The Corpse King… How magnificent…”
“Silence. You stand before His Majesty.”
“My King, hurry. Time is short.”
“Do not command Lord Hel. I’ll kill you.”
“——Quiet. It’ll be over soon.”
[Ha! ]
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With a single word, the Corpse King silenced their clamor, then locked eyes with the Demon King—exhausted, battered, and broken.
He grabbed the Demon King’s hair roughly, yanking him up. Behind the skeletal mask, dull black eyes stared down at the Demon King’s fate.
“Guh—AAAAAAAH!”
Whether from terror or desperation, the Demon King unleashed every last trace of his remaining magic—
“Die.”
—and perished before he could even give it form.
As the Demon King’s body collapsed, the Corpse King stepped on the corpse, gazing down at it before murmuring softly, with sorrow:
“It’s over… everyone.”
Corpse King Hel. That was the name he now bore. But once, he had been Hizaki Shiou—
a hero summoned from another world.
Brought to this world alongside his classmates, they had supported each other, grown stronger… only to lose their comrades, one by one, until his mind shattered.
Not a single classmate remained. All of them were dead.
All of them, by the Demon King’s hand.
For the sake of revenge, he had walked a solitary path, forging the power to create this moment.
He had gathered every force capable of opposing the Demon King, and before he knew it, he had built one of the world’s most formidable combat factions.
The secret organization—[Helheim.]
Its members wielded unparalleled strength, served the Corpse King, and tolerated no other allegiance.
A group shrouded in mystery, its true purpose unknown—save for its name.
Even now, with the Demon King slain, there was no sense of triumph. Only a cold, methodical preparation for withdrawal.
And with a single signal from the Corpse King—
“Helheim—returning.”
—they vanished without a trace.
And so, the world was saved.
Having fulfilled his role, Hizaki Shiou was forcibly sent back to his original world.
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