I'm Actually Not Overpowered!

Hell!

The Divine Realm of the Demon God himself.

Within this celestial plane, there exist twelve beings who are seen as the harbingers of chaos and destruction—the personification of malevolence.

They are known as the 12 Great Ones—

The Four Horsemen

The Seven Deadly Sins

And the Primordial Fear

They are the supreme beings—ArchDemons that stand at the pinnacle of all.

And, among these twelve—a member of the Four Horsemen—there is Death... also known as the Pale Rider.

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"Tell me, human. What is your request?" The fabled ArchDemon from Hell spoke.

His tone carried authority unlike any other, and the dangerous aura he emitted made everything's round him experience corrosion.

Blackness spread across the earth, and the air turned stale.

As the Rider awaited his answer, the human at the center of the circle raised his hand and pointed at the only being left out of the conversation.

"That Demon... kill him for me."

Demon Lord Valefor instantly shrieked. His bloodshot eyes captured the pointed finger of a mere human—something he would have swiftly cut off if not for the presence that appeared to back him up.

"Very well. Your desires have been heard." The being called Death responded, misty breath proceeding from his dry lips.

He stretched forth his hand, and instantly an obsidian sickle manifested. It gleamed with the orange glow the evening sun—thought the darkness that manifested on it slowly overshadowed any form of illumination.

The sickle seemed to carry the very nature of death, and Valefor realized what would happen if he so much as touched it.

Shuddering in terror—though trying his suppress it—the Demon Lord's mind went to work.

How could he hide what he himself could not understand? The fear and primal instinct to flee... had he ever felt something so intense?

So degrading?!

'N-no... what's this?' Valefor's mind struggled to maintain his sanity.

"Apologies, Demon. Your life is no longer yours."

Death's horse slowly began to move, and a misty darkness surrounded its sole. The black cloud lifted the steed until it levitated whole approaching Valefor.

"W-wait! What are you doing?! Why are you against a Demon? Why are you listening to a human?!"

To the Demons of this world, ArchDemons were akin to Angels that humans looked up to—messengers of God himself.

How could a divine herald of the Demon God—regardless of how powerful—turn against a Demon? How could they pay heed to the words of human scum?

Valefor could not comprehend it, and he hoped his words would cause the being known as Death to see reason.

"I would advise you not to speak or struggle. Your fate has already been sealed."

Swinging his scythe, the Rider closed in on Valefor—as a predator would his prey. It frightened the currently impotent Demon Lord.

He couldn't even dream of fighting, and now it had been proven that he couldn't reason with the ArchDemon.

The only thing he could do... was run!

>VWUUUSHHH<

A spatial rupture instantly appeared behind Valefor as he attempted to escape. Purple and black flashes surrounded him, ready to transport him to the farthest place he could manage.

At this point, he no longer cared about honor or appearances. He simply had to escape.

'The resources I went through all this trouble for is gone. There's no point in hanging around!'

Holding fast to this rationale, Valefor swiftly made his escape.

However—

>SWOOOSHH<

—In one swing of Death's Scythe, the dark rupture of space perished. It canceled itself out!

'W-wha—?!'

Valefor didn't have time to be shocked, though. He simply had to use his short-distance teleportation to run away as soon as possible and—

>VWUUUUSHHHH<

Even that didn't work. The moment he activated his Miasma to vanish, Death would swing his scythe and kill off the Spell.

'T-then... I run!'

Death's approach so far had been slow. If he raced away from the enemy before he could catch up, then... perhaps he had a chance!

At least, that was what Valefor thought.

"Cease your pointless struggle..." Death suddenly appeared behind Valefor, causing his eyes to bulge in shock.

"... Or don't. Either way, you'll die."

"H-how... so fast?!" The Demon Lord shuddered as he felt the chill of death stinging his behind.

"Death appears when no being expects. It starts out slow and foreseeable. However... it is sudden. Unprecedented. Unpredictable. As well as..."

Death raised his scythe, his voice echoing through the vicinity. Valefor managed to tilt his head and stare at the entity behind him.

"... Inevitable."

Thus, the swing descended.

For the first time, as Valefor felt the scythe near him, he saw Death's face.

It was pale. Dry. Husky. Not completely flesh, yet not a skeleton either. Somewhere in the middle. So grotesque and ugly.

Yet... Death was smiling.

A smile that reflected the ease at which he took his life.

>FWUUUUSSSHHH<

The speed was nigh imperceivable, and the scythe cleanly cut through Valefor. Helplessly in the sky, the Demon Lord's body was torn in two—though only temporarily.

Soon, his very flesh and bones were consumed by darkness, and his soul was harvest by Death.

The Scythe took in all of him, leaving nothing behind.

Valefor was completely engulfed in the dark, cold embrace of death. His last thoughts?

'No... I wanted to survive... I wanted... to rise.' It was a selfish desire.

An inclination towards power. He still didn't care for his dead soldiers or the unknown fate that awaited his son—or even the numerous children he had.

Valefor's only thoughts were about himself!

However, even those sentiments faded, lost in the eternal pit that was Death.

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"Your request has been carried out." Death returned to the ground, directly facing his summoner.

The human Hero who possessed just the right set of Skills and Titles to summon an ArchDemon from Hell.

Not only were the humans who summoned Demons rare, but even those who did ended up calling upon the weaklings of Hell—The Lesser Fallen.

How could a human possess the capacity to summon one of his caliber? No, perhaps this was only just the tip of the questions that Death had within him.

How did the human know of him and his other colleagues? How did he know to prepare the proper setting and offer the appropriate offerings?

He knew too much.

"The offerings you offered are yet to be fully compensated for. Do you have yet another request for me to carry out?"

The death of a single weakling was hardly worth summoning him for. A Higher Fallen could complete the task.

Why would he skip past the Elders and Nobles to reach him, a Great One? Death had multiple question, but he maintained his silence and awaited the next words that would come out of the human's mouth.

"I want... the revival of every life that has been extinguished within this city—of course, except for the Demon Lord that you executed."

Death was mildly surprised. Not because of the request itself, but because he didn't expect his summoner to be so ignorant about the due process.

If he had enough knowledge to summon him, then wouldn't he have understood how tall of an order his request was.

"With the offerings you have sacrificed, that request can not be completed."

"Even if the Souls do not need to be procured?" The human pointed upward.

Death raised his head to see what his summoner was referring to. He never expected it, but his shock reached an unexpected height.

"You preserved their Souls in the barrier? I see. Soul attraction Runic Magic. Impressive."

It was a mystery how the human was able to learn such Magic, but Death understood it wasn't in his place to ask questions.

He operated on a code, and he was determined to follow through with his contract. However—

"Even with their Souls present, your offerings are still insufficient. You will not be able to resurrect them all." Death said.

The precious ores, gems, Holy Water, Mana Chalk, raw materials, etc., that his summoner provided was valuable. Incredibly so.

It was well past a fortune.

When people sought to resurrect their loved ones through a contract with Hell, they gave up their fortune and most valued objects.

If Death used the same standards, then perhaps he would be able to resurrect a hundred people? Maybe a little close to one hundred and fifty?

Still, bringing everyone back was not possible with his insufficient sacrifice.

"Then... what if I sacrifice something else?" The human muttered.

Death, as always, reasonably weighed the choice. There was hardly anything of value the human possessed—at least, with what he could sense.

He also wasn't very powerful, compared to other beings in this world. There was hardly anything of value that he could offer in exchange for what he wanted.

"My Levels... I'll give them to you."

Death sighed. He understood the desperation of the living. But, that didn't mean he had to tolerate it.

"Even that is not enou—"

"No. Not just now. I mean all my Levels... all the Levels I'll ever obtain. Now and for as long as I remain in this world."

The human's eyes contained a resolve Death had never experienced from anyone before. Even though his body trembled, and his clenched fists clearly displayed that this was something he didn't want to do... he clung hard to his words.

Tears fell from his eyes, and an deep sense of grief and regret coursed through him, but Death didn't sense any hesitation at all.

It was a pure sacrifice.

"I'll give everything to you. So... save them! Save everyone!"

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[A/N]

Thanks for reading, everyone. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

The Demonic Crisis Arc is about to end, and I want to appreciate you all for sticking with me throughout this volume.

I certainly hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I liked writing it.

Cheers!