The Heroes Who Executed Me Are Obsessed With Me

Screeech!

A horde advanced toward Barungenia. Among them were some in the garb of Krata’s imperial forces, others in the humble clothes of ordinary villagers.

Screeeaaam!

Of course, none of them were truly alive. Their bodies, ravaged by fatal damage, had been unnaturally reanimated. They were no more than low-grade puppets brought back from death.

These puppets had no freedom to die again. That freedom had been stolen by none other than Athanasia the Immortal.

At the forefront, she led her own private army.

Watching this from a distance, Goltche muttered to himself.

“This… just got a whole lot worse.”

Earlier, he had witnessed Beatrice face off against Athanasia.

Beatrice had quickly taken on her dragon form, unleashing torrents of flame upon the god. But even as her body melted away, Athanasia simply regenerated on the spot.

As her name implied—she could not die.

She repeatedly released waves of energy—‘death pulses’—the same attack she had used to decimate an entire village. In the air, Beatrice had been struck by every wave and was ultimately slammed to the ground.

“So this… is what an ancient god really is.”

Every time Athanasia walked toward Beatrice, the pulse flared again. Beatrice was unable to counter it. In the end, she retreated.

That was everything Goltche had seen.

He glanced around.

“Grrrk. Grurrrk…”

The goblins still remaining stared at him, frozen.

Goltche let out a dry chuckle.

‘Throwing them into this is nothing but a waste.’

Goblins, at best, were good for bait or sacrificial disruption in large-scale tactics.

‘We’ll need to improve this.’

He wasn’t sure if any resources would be allocated to goblin enhancement. But perhaps, with some physical modification, even lower-ranked species could prove useful.

At the very least, they wouldn’t feel this powerless.

For now, there was nothing they could do.

‘I just hope our new Demon King doesn’t fall to that monster.’

Goltche, promised a well-funded new lab under Clay’s reign, could only hope that the Demon King would not be crushed by the thing approaching them.

♧

『It’s an army that defies death.』

『A tough opponent for us.』

『Even in the air, we can’t escape the death pulse.』

The gargoyles, including Goe, voiced their unease as they observed Athanasia’s forces advancing.

‘This is insane.’

Atop a spire, Lin Siart let out a groan.

‘Isn’t that death pulse way too strong?’

The energy Athanasia kept emitting was a physical shockwave capable of inducing instant death in living beings.

‘If only we had undead…’

“Undead” referred to all monsters—whether self-transformed or forcibly reanimated without souls—who had rejected death.

Those who had become undead by their own will had often accepted extreme enhancements in exchange for minimal penalties.

Their appearances were usually indistinguishable from corpses, but among them, truly powerful individuals had emerged.

The Death Knight Desknight, and the brilliant necromancer Goldrich, were among them.

But those two had gone missing during the war following the former Demon King’s death. Even if they were alive somewhere, their strength could not be relied on now.

BOOM!

A pulse struck so close that Lin could feel it in her tower.

Whirrr…

The Eyes of Barungenia atop the towers rotated.

To them, Athanasia was clearly an intruder. As another pulse surged through the air, the Eyes countered—gathering magia and blasting it outward.

A shielded wave designed to both nullify the attack and empower the demons.

FWWAAAAANG!

The invisible death pulse clashed with the concentrated black magia, releasing a chilling sonic boom.

“Kh…!”

The shockwave made Lin drop to her knees, hands over her ears.

Click!

With a snap of her fingers, a protective barrier snapped into place around her.

“Hah…”

Gaining her bearings again, she looked up—and saw him.

“The Demon King…!”

Clay was approaching Athanasia.

♧

Athanasia thought to herself.

‘The Demon King, huh?’

A divine entity born from the demon race. A being molded from aggression, shaped by destruction and slaughter.

A God Of The End.

‘But… something’s off.’

The man she now faced—the Demon King of Barungenia—gave off a feeling far too subtle to be a disaster born of pure wrath.

“Are you the Demon King?”

She asked, eyes fixed on the one with black hair and red eyes.

“I am,” he replied softly.

His voice held no violence.

“You’re… not quite what I expected.”

Athanasia muttered, eyeing him with faint curiosity. But Clay simply returned her gaze in silence.

“Well, it doesn’t matter.”

She dismissed the oddity.

“I’ve got work to do. I’d rather you not get in the way.”

“Are you asking me to die?”

“In simple terms, yes.”

Athanasia lifted one small foot.

“So forgive me for skipping pleasantries, but—vanish.”

BOOOOM!

As her foot hit the ground, a massive pulse erupted outward.

『Kkyaaaah! Retreat—retreat!』

『My skin—it's melting…!』

The gargoyles, struck in mid-air, shrieked and fell back.

But in that instant, the Eyes of Barungenia once more focused their magia, shooting it outward in a spherical wave—nullifying the pulse.

Athanasia watched the spectacle with a grin.

“What a special fortress.”

“And you,” Clay replied, “Are quite special too.”

His words made her brow twitch.

“What?”

“Weren’t you once worshiped as a divine being? A god unlike the Demon King.”

“You’re the Demon King—why are you talking like it’s someone else?”

“Because I wasn’t one from the beginning.”

The Demon King spoke, as if spitting the words out.

“Athanasia, what is it that you want?”

“What do I want?” Athanasia laughed, “What, do you think we can negotiate now?”

Her expression chilled as she fixed her gaze on him.

“Every one of you—using the word ‘negotiation’ as an excuse to blaspheme the divine. Did Elhaen’s scripture describe me like some pebble to be kicked around?”

“Don’t misunderstand,” Clay replied, his eyes cold and dry, “You’re not someone I intend to negotiate with.”

“What?”

“You’re someone I intend to dominate.”

He extended his right hand.

“Syltanaro.”

A girl ran up to him. He grasped her hand—and in a smooth spin of his body—

“!”

The girl was gone.

What remained in Clay’s hand was a sword, overflowing with massive magia.

It was Iter Gladio.

The Demon Sword pulsed, glowing with engraved script as a slash shot forward in the exact path drawn by the blade.

Athanasia, startled, stomped the ground.

CRACK!

The pulse she emitted shifted the arc just enough to make the strike miss.

SLAASH!

The blade didn’t hit her—but it tore through her undead soldiers. They were obliterated, their shattered bodies rolling across the ground.

Squelch. Twitch...

Some, left in pieces, still writhed in a grotesque crawl.

Athanasia furrowed her brow at the sight.

“…You.”

Her smile twisted with irritation as she looked back at Clay.

“You’ve got no manners, huh? Then I won’t bother mourning either.”

She pointed a finger forward.

“Go.”

Her army surged toward Barungenia.

♧

“Grghk…! Kyaahk!”

“GRAAAGH!”

The low-tier demons fell screaming beneath the swarm of undead. Even the mid-tier ones swung their weapons in desperation—but to little effect.

After all, they weren’t fighting something that could die.

“Damn it!”

Those demons capable of speech cried out in horror.

“Even if you leave a hand, they’ll crawl back!”

“Burn them! Burn everything!”

Chaos consumed Barungenia.

The Eyes of the spires tried to assist, but—

BOOM! BOOOOM!

All their power was being spent to block Athanasia’s relentless death pulses.

“Clay!”

Beatrice, her injuries not yet fully healed, took to the skies again with her wings alone.

“I’ll help!”

She summoned a pillar of flame to sweep through the undead.

BOOM!

But even that was scattered by the next pulse.

“Kh—!”

The blast hurled her into Barungenia’s outer wall.

“Don’t care?”

Athanasia called out to Clay.

“Looks like one of your subordinates just got thrown like a rag.”

“……”

Clay moved.

He stepped forward and swung his sword once more.

The slash flew toward her again. Athanasia dodged in the same way—but this time, she advanced.

“You’re seriously blasphemous.”

Her face contorted with fury.

“I won’t play anymore.”

Athanasia surged forward with the intent to end it.

Rrrumble...

The pulses she emitted increased in number, expanded in range, and grew in power.

As a result, even those demons fighting fiercely under the Eyes’ protection began to falter—some were ripped apart on the spot.

“T-This can’t be happening…!”

Demons near Clay were drowning in terror.

“We… we can’t win.”

“She’s stronger than the Hero!”

Despair spread—fueled by the crumbling faith in their Demon King.

Clay looked down at Syltanaro.

“Syltanaro.”

『I-I’m listening, Your Majesty.』

“I plan to fight here for as long as I can.”

『As long as… you can…?』

“But it has nothing to do with actually defeating Athanasia.”

『What?』

Syltanaro blinked in confusion.

『You mean… we can’t win?』

“Of course we can.”

Clay was unfazed.

“It’s just that this isn’t the battle where we win.”

『Then…』

“This kind of opportunity is rare.”

Clay said something Syltanaro never expected.

“I’m going to test our strength—you and I.”

『Test… what?』

“To see how well I can wield my power—and you.”

Though he had become Demon King, Clay would need even greater power in the future. And to reach it, he needed to know how far he could push himself now.

“I’m going to drive myself to the limit—until I’m in tatters. Will you be alright with that?”

Syltanaro didn’t answer right away.

She didn’t fully grasp what he intended.

She couldn’t yet understand how he planned to win if this wasn’t the winning battle.

『Yes.』

But the words came out anyway—almost on instinct.

『Yes, Your Majesty.』

She had never met anyone with such certainty. That was what pulled her forward…

…into this new domain of faith.

『I’ll give it everything I’ve got.』

The answer was spoken.

Clay gripped Syltanaro tightly.

“Then engrave it.”

At his command, fresh characters inscribed themselves into her blade.

“Our path forward—carved in steel.”

(End of Chapter)