The Heroes Who Executed Me Are Obsessed With Me

On her way to Barungenia, the Demon Sword Syltanaro had been consumed by rage.

The fear and terror of what she had lost had shattered the last of her reason.

Ah…

But now—this man had just done something no one but the Demon King should have been able to do.

Incomprehensible.

Only someone with his gifts could resonate with her power and grant her peace.

She couldn’t quite grasp what had just happened to her.

Wha… huh?

And yet, one truth began to surface.

“Hero?”

The man before her—he was the very adversary she had once fought alongside the Demon King.

Realizing this, she bared her fangs instantly.

“How are you even here…?!”

“Syltanaro.”

The man—Clay’s—eyes glowed crimson.

“Think rationally,” he said, still gripping her wrist.

“Think about what you actually need.”

That was the power to keep living as a sentient being.

“Wandering once is enough.”

Clay didn’t know her well. But he did know what she feared most.

“I don’t have a way to soothe you. But I can tell you one thing.”

“What…?”

“The Demon King didn’t die by my hand.”

Syltanaro’s eyes widened in shock.

“You…!”

“It’s the truth,” Clay turned his head slightly, “If you don’t believe me, you can ask Beatrice.”

“Beatrice…!”

But Syltanaro didn’t go to her for confirmation—instead, her fury erupted again.

“You were his closest confidant. How could you… how could you do something like this?!”

“What do you mean how?” Beatrice stared at Syltanaro with a calm expression, “I’m rebuilding the Demon King’s army.”

“What?”

“Can’t you see the person standing in front of you right now?”

At her words, Syltanaro looked at Clay again.

The man standing there with emotionless eyes—he was no longer the Hero she once knew.

But still…

She couldn’t completely erase his past.

And you expect me to follow him?

The Demon King was dead.

To simply replace him with another powerful figure—was that really the answer?

What she understood even less—

Barungenia isn’t rejecting him.

With her mind beginning to clear, Syltanaro noticed something.

The spires of Barungenia—the Eyes of the Demon King’s Castle—were not condemning the man in front of her.

Which meant the rumors were true—he had not killed the Demon King.

Impossible.

It was absurd.

If not the Hero… then who could have possibly…

“Looks like you’re starting to believe me,” Clay spoke again, urging her, “I made an irreversible choice to stand here now. You can make one too, Syltanaro.”

His gaze bore into her.

“You can either abandon your only hope—or stand against me to the end.”

Tighten.

He gripped her wrist harder.

“Even if you lash out, I’ll still try to tame you.”

“What does that mean…?”

“So you don’t let this opportunity slip.”

She fell silent.

The conversation stopped—and silence swallowed them.

Amid countless watching eyes, only weightless thoughts drifted in the air, brushing against one another like dust.

“I…”

And then Syltanaro spoke first.

♧

It had been a long shot.

Syltanaro had once been closer to the Demon King than even Beatrice, the highest commander of the Demon King’s army.

After all, she could only remain whole—only retain her self—when the Demon King existed.

That dependence wouldn’t vanish overnight.

Which was why everyone who watched had held their breath.

They feared Syltanaro would become Barungenia’s first true threat.

Tap.

But all those fears proved unnecessary.

—If you weren’t the one who killed him…

After a brief pause, the choice Syltanaro made was—

—Let me stay.

Suspension.

—That will be enough.

And Clay accepted her answer.

Because the outcome had already been decided.

“…It really ended like that?”

Having heard everything from Cardin, Lin looked dazed.

“I didn’t think it would wrap up so easily.”

“Neither did I.”

Goltche replied, seated beside her.

“But thinking back… I kind of get it now.”

He recalled the moment Clay had stepped through the doors. A new man, clad in light and darkness. A declaration made manifest.

“She must’ve realized it too—that she couldn’t win.”

Even if Goltche had performed the procedure, Clay had gone far beyond what anyone could’ve expected. He didn’t just nullify the priests’ seals—he turned them into devices that drew in and amplified magia.

His body now possessed infinite potential. If he had simply died at the execution grounds, the world would’ve lost a vessel capable of holding what no one else could.

“And really, who else could maintain her sanity?”

From Goltche’s perspective, Syltanaro had only needed an excuse—someone to lean on.

“The moment she learned he didn’t kill the Demon King, it was already over. That was the only choice left to her.”

Heh heh heh…

Goltche chuckled as he stood.

“I burned through all my energy and missed the best part—but I’m satisfied.”

He had successfully transformed Clay’s body.

“My contribution won’t go unrecognized. Creating such a perfect vessel… that’s a legacy.”

“Hey! You make it sound like you did all the work!” Lin glared sharply at him, “You only succeeded because I was there! Don’t tell me you’re about to claim your share was bigger than mine.”

Goltche grinned grotesquely, “I’ll go down as the greatest contributor to the new Demon King!”

“Don’t be ridiculous! You’re done, but I’ve still got plenty left to offer!”

“You little brat…”

While the two bickered, Cardin quietly looked away.

My heart still hasn’t stopped racing.

He couldn’t even remember what Clay had been like as a Hero anymore. The pressure he now exuded was staggering.

More demonic than any demon by birth.

No one had ever converted divine power into magia before. It had always been believed that divine power came from Elhaen, the chief deity of humanity.

But if Clay had truly hijacked that power and twisted it into something else—unless it was all illusion—it was as though he’d forcibly drawn divine energy from the source and repurposed it.

The Hero had once been the only one blessed with such a body. In a way, he was a monstrous anomaly—born of the chief god’s failure to prepare for a divergence.

He can do it.

With that power, he could do far more than simply rebuild the Demon King’s army. That thought filled Cardin’s chest with a tight, exhilarating pressure.

Just as he approached Clay, however—

“It’s not possible. Not yet,_ Clay’s unexpected words cut through.

“…Excuse me?”

“Exactly what I said. I’ve got the potential—but right now I can only convert divine power into magia about three times a day with any real explosive force.”

He clenched and unclenched his hand, then turned toward Cardin.

“I’m far from being a perfect Demon King.”

“Ah…”

“But for now, it’s enough,” Clay stepped up to him, “Enough to hold a coronation.”

“Ah…”

After a moment of thought, Cardin let out a breath and dropped to one knee.

“O-Of course! I’ll begin preparing for your coronation right away!”

“Good. We’ll hold it tomorrow. Now that the Demon Sword has returned, it’s as good a time as any.”

“Will Syltanaro participate?”

“If she isn’t near me, she probably won’t retain her sanity for long. From a distance, I can only stabilize her so much.”

Indeed, from the moment she arrived, Syltanaro had been functionally bound to Clay.

“Cardin.” Clay lowered his voice, “Do you think this sort of thing will keep happening?”

“…You mean like this?”

More demons arriving at Barungenia. More remnants of the Demon King’s army. More unrest.

“It won’t be the last.” Syltanaro was only the beginning.

“I see,” Clay let out a soft breath and gave a command, “Cardin, bring me every record the previous Demon King left behind. If Syltanaro’s alive, it’s possible other key figures are too.”

“You need intelligence to prepare for them. Understood.”

“Then I’ll leave it to you.”

Cardin stood, bowed, and turned away.

“Cardin.”

Clay called after him once more.

“Let Lin and Goltche know they’ll be properly rewarded for their contributions. I won't forget the service.”

“Understood.”

Cardin smiled.

He had a thought—Clay might be the most reasonable Demon King the demonkind would ever know.

♧

Calamity.

Syltanaro trembled inside a storage room, her body still shivering.

“What the hell is that man…”

Clay.

A former Hero.

Someone once utterly distant from darkness.

“And yet…”

What was that power?

“He crushed my strength.”

He didn’t resonate with her power like the previous Demon King. He didn’t harmonize with her at all.

He had simply seized the explosive force within her and suppressed it—corrected it.

“That man…”

It was like having a leash yanked until she regained clarity. But to do such a thing without emotional connection—without resonance—would require absolute, overwhelming power.

And it wasn’t the divine power wielded by the Hero.

“He’s no longer a Hero.”

She couldn’t deny it.

Clay was no longer the Hero she once knew.

Slide…

She raised her arm—the one he had grabbed.

There, a handprint remained. Dark and sharp—like a Brand.

What do I do now…

Even so, she had no choice but to stay.

No matter how it had happened—he was the only one left in this world who could keep her whole.

I have to stay near him.

Her mind was in turmoil, but reality left her no alternative.

And more than that—

He didn’t even care that much about me.

He just needed a suitable weapon.

The previous Demon King had never opened his heart to anyone. Only Beatrice, who had been with him since the beginning, could communicate with him at all.

Maybe that was why Syltanaro had gone wild when they met again—because Beatrice had failed to save him. She had been a failed general of the Demon King’s Four Generals.

Knock knock knock.

Syltanaro flinched at the sudden knock.

“Have you calmed down?”

It was Beatrice’s voice.

(End of Chapter)