The Heroes Who Executed Me Are Obsessed With Me

Athanasia.

One of the six ancient gods of the continent of Pandea, possessing the power of immortality.

Though similar in nature to Ayum the Eternal—another god who had lived through countless ages—there was a key difference.

“Ayum can be killed. Athanasia, on the other hand, cannot.”

Athanasia was a god that could not be slain through conventional means. Even if one managed to kill her, she would recover or reincarnate.

“ancient gods derive their power from the faith they receive. So now, even if Athanasia is unsealed, she may not be as powerful as before. But still—an enemy that cannot die is troublesome no matter the strength.”

If she became their enemy, she would be a relentless force that could never be put down, Neville warned.

“My father likely intends to release Athanasia’s seal just to wear down the demons. He’s trying to pit us against each other.”

Neville swallowed hard.

“But… do you truly believe my father will go so far as to unseal Athanasia, Lord Clay?”

“Neville.” Clay’s tone lowered as he pointed something out, “Your titles need to reflect the current reality. I’d like that to be made clear.”

“Ah…”

Neville looked troubled but quickly bowed his head, “…Understood, Your Majesty.”

“I regret that I must impose this unfairness upon you.” At Clay’s words, Neville’s face tightened with reluctant discomfort.

“No, it’s fine. If anything, it’s the humans who are to blame for all this…”

“Even so, this burden was never yours to carry. Thank you for understanding.”

Even as a Demon King, Clay still retained fragments of who he once was. That familiar tone softened the strangeness Neville felt in the changed Clay.

“Neville, you didn’t seem too shocked when I brought it up. Did you suspect something from your time within the royal family?”

“…Yes. There were signs.”

Neville recalled what his father, Lutan, had said in the past.

“He would often wonder aloud to his retainers whether it was worth unsealing the ancient gods and having them fight the demons. After the Hero… after you appeared, that plan was shelved. But now, I suppose it wouldn’t be surprising if he chose to act on it. It’s exactly the kind of thing he’d do.”

“Even if it meant disrespecting the chief deity Elhaen?”

“My father… was never especially devout.”

It was practically heresy for a Crown Prince of the Holy Alliance to admit this—but Neville said it plainly.

“To him, even the gods are just troublesome higher-ups. It’s just that pretending to revere Elhaen grants him the greatest power—that’s why he does it.”

Such things couldn’t even be whispered in Krata.

And now here he was, in the heart of demon territory, confessing his innermost thoughts. The irony wasn’t lost on Neville.

“In any case, you must be careful. My father won’t allow the demon race to rise again. And as for Your Majesty… he’ll come for you with a blade far sharper than before.”

“You still worry for me, even now.” Clay looked straight at Neville.

‘This one is different.’

He wasn’t the same as his father. A different breed of man entirely.

‘But whether he truly stands with us… that’s another matter.’

He had offered to help Clay—but that didn’t mean he’d help the demons.

‘Not that it matters.’

Clay had no intention of taking pity on him. He would use Neville as needed.

But that wasn’t all.

“Neville.”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to start a war.”

He would make Lutan’s worst fears a reality.

“It will bring you pain.”

“…I see.”

“I’m telling you plainly.”

What Neville would witness here would be nothing like the future he hoped for.

“I wasn’t planning to ask for permission. But I didn’t want you to feel crushed by oppression either.”

“…”

“I will destroy the Holy Alliance and conquer the continent.”

Clay rested his chin on his wrist.

“You have two choices. Either stand against me, or help me ensure the world doesn’t fall into ruin.”

It was an absurd dilemma—one that no man should ever have to choose between. But it was the only proposal Clay could offer Neville.

“…May I take some time to consider it?”

“As much as you like.”

Clay turned his head slightly.

“Cardin.”

“Yes.”

“Escort Neville back to his quarters.”

Cardin emerged silently from the shadows and guided Neville away.

Once he returned, he posed a question to Clay.

“Was it wise to make such an offer to Krata’s Crown Prince?”

“An offer?”

“I don’t know the exact nature of your past relationship… but if he was bound to your former self, there’s no guarantee he’s on our side.”

“You mean, because he once followed me as a Hero, I can’t trust him now?”

Cardin swallowed but didn’t deny it.

“…Perhaps.”

Clay murmured.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s not an ally.”

“Pardon?”

“Do you know why the demon race lost to the humans?”

Cardin looked startled at the sudden question.

“Why… the demons lost?”

“Yes.”

“Was it not simply because Your Majesty was too strong, even back then?”

“Wrong.”

The Hero had merely been humanity’s strongest weapon.

“The demon race lost because they knew nothing but destruction.”

Humans—regardless of hypocrisy or deceit—had systems of unification and cooperation.

“Now that I’ve seen it up close, I realize how badly structured the demons are.”

The demons weren’t even a confederation of tribes, let alone a true nation.

“They were a primitive society bound together only by the power of a single Demon King. Unlike the humans, who could reorganize and charge anew, the demons consumed everything in short-term battles and left nothing behind.”

War was a long game. A battle over the very survival of one’s species couldn’t be decided in an instant.

“And even if I were to establish such a system now, there is no demon capable of maintaining it.”

Because they had no experience.

“Then we’ll have to borrow human hands if we must.”

“So Your Majesty intends to make the Crown Prince of Krata…”

“…a foundation stone.”

Not simply to raise the demons again—but to resurrect and rebuild them.

“Only by doing that can we overwhelm humanity so thoroughly that they never rise again.”

Cardin unconsciously swallowed at the malice in Clay’s tone.

‘This isn’t mercy.’

Yes, Clay had shown personal mercy to Neville. But to humanity at large, it was a declaration of calamity.

If Neville felt both mercy and fear from Clay, there would be only one logical path he could take. He would never let humanity perish. That’s just the kind of person he was.

But what Neville wouldn’t realize was that the actions he’d take, believing they were right, would fit squarely into the Demon King’s grand plan to subjugate humanity forever.

He would cling to the hope that Clay still held some human heart.

‘That’s a mistake.’

Clay sought nothing less than total victory. And that sent a chill through Cardin’s spine.

‘This is more than cold-bloodedness.’

Clay was suppressing his emotions to the utmost. Even now, his face bore no expression.

‘Because he feels too much… he’s killed his feelings to plan the future.’

His anger toward humanity, his murderous intent—it far surpassed anything any demon could muster.

‘So this is what happens when you make an enemy of the Hero.’

Whatever the difference in power, Cardin could now imagine the kind of fear the former Demon King must have felt when facing Clay at full strength.

Clay was a natural-born leader.

The kind of person whose will could shape the very road he walked.

“Your Majesty.”

Cardin knelt.

“I will do everything I can to see your vision fulfilled.”

“I’ll be counting on you.”

Clay remained calm, his voice as steady as ever.

♧

Tap, tap.

Beatrice, one of the Four Generals.

She approached the corridor leading to the Demon King’s study.

“Hm~, I thought so.”

She had almost knocked when she overheard the voices from inside—and smiled knowingly.

“As expected.”

Knock knock.

Moments later, she opened the door and stepped in. Both Cardin and Clay turned to look at her.

“Did I interrupt?”

“No.” Clay gestured to a seat nearby, “On the contrary, I was waiting for you.”

“Oh my~” Beatrice covered her mouth with a soft laugh, “Hearing that makes me happy.”

“…Then I’ll excuse myself.”

Cardin, realizing the conversation was meant to be private, politely withdrew.

Left alone with Clay, Beatrice quickly got to the point.

“Clay, I checked into what you asked.”

“And?”

“It looks like Krata has deployed Guardian Knights to various locations.”

“Various?”

“Yes. Just like you expected—it’s probably for unsealing the ancient gods. Even if he’s tied to the capital by the dungeon, Emperor Lutan truly is a madman. How could he be so reckless as to bring the enemies of Elhaen back into the world?”

“The reason doesn’t matter.” Clay cut through the speculation and asked, “And the other thing I asked you to investigate?”

“I looked into that too.”

Beatrice tossed a slip of paper his way.

“You were right. There are indeed standby candidates for the Four Generals. How did you know?”

Clay didn’t answer right away. He looked over the document.

It contained the names of those designated to succeed the Four Generals if any seats became vacant.

“…The former Demon King told me.”

He once said that even if the Four Generals fell, there would be others to take their place.

The rest of the Hero's party had interpreted it as meaning the demons would never stop attacking—but Clay had understood differently.

The former Demon King would occasionally drop hints that revealed the structure behind the demons’ organization.

Of course, Clay had only confirmed those hints were real after arriving in Barungenia.

“I wasn’t sure back then, but now I can say for certain. Whatever the former Demon King intended, it’s useful to us now.”

“Beatrice.” Clay met her gaze, “You’re the ally I trust most.”

“That’s… quite a statement. Are we already at that point?”

“If not for you, I wouldn’t be standing here.”

He made his request.

“I’m issuing a summons to the standby Four Generals. I want you to deliver it.”

“Me? You’re okay with me being away from here?”

“If it’s not you, they may not move.”

Clay rose and stepped closer to her.

“Once Athanasia is dealt with and things settle down, I want them in place immediately.”

“Do you have a way to deal with Athanasia?”

Beatrice reached out and gently brushed his face.

“There’s no need to rush, you know. Thanks to the Holy Alliance, there’s hardly any faith left for the ancient gods to draw on. You should focus on gathering more power first.”

“Don’t worry.”

Clay’s crimson eyes glowed.

“I’ll gain that power—through Athanasia herself.”

(End of Chapter)