The Heroes Who Executed Me Are Obsessed With Me

“Hey, did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“The rumor that the demons are regrouping.”

The rumor, spread by the captain who had encountered Geshkafor, quickly circulated across villages, nations, and the entire continent.

“They say the name of the new Demon King is Geshkafor.”

“No, I heard it’s Beatrice.”

“Then isn’t that actually a relief? Instead of the former Hero became the Demon King?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

With tales from other places mixing in, the rumors became a muddled mess of truth and lies.

But no one disputed the one undeniable fact: the demons were plotting a resurgence.

And that fact alone greatly unsettled—no, infuriated—the Holy Alliance, which held dominion over the continent.

“Wait, is this really okay?”

In Hanumayer, a nation located at the very northernmost peak of the continent—specifically above Holy Krata in the frigid alpine region— ruled the so-called Ice Wall of the North: Selvaro de Vainemil.

“The dungeons are expanding. Are you even listening to me, brother?”

The one nagging before Emperor Selvaro of Hanumayer was his younger sister, Selimia.

“…Calm down.”

“How am I supposed to stay calm right now?” Selimia clutched her snow-white hair in frustration and yelled, “You’re the emperor! Not some soldier guarding a dungeon!”

“Lutan, the emperor of Krata, also stands guard before dungeons.”

“Ugh… that’s not the point! Seriously!”

Holy Krata could move the entire continent even while sitting still.

Compared to that, Hanumayer was nothing but vast, barren land—poor for farming, undeveloped in commerce—forced to spend every day just holding back dungeon threats.

“At least in the past, the Hero used to look after you…”

“Selimia.”

“What?”

“He was a heretic.”

Selvaro, seated upon the throne yet unable to find comfort in it, spoke coldly.

“Refrain from speaking of him.”

“……”

Selimia fell silent and stared at her brother.

It was a silent protest.

Back then, Clay had been different from Krata, who only used the name ‘Alliance’ to exploit other nations.

The Hero had paid attention to every corner of the continent, offering help where it was needed.

He investigated countries whose finances were on the brink due to the war against the demons and persuaded others to aid them.

It was the kind of leadership Krata should have shown through the Alliance, yet the Hero had done it instead.

“Do you really believe the Hero was a heretic, brother?”

“Selimia.”

“What’s the point of being one of the strongest swordsmen if you’re too much of a coward to voice your own opinion?”

With a “Hmph!” Selimia turned sharply and stormed out.

Selvaro watched the spot where she disappeared and sighed.

“…Clay.”

It was indeed hard to believe he had been a heretic.

But Selvaro hadn’t made a move to confirm the truth himself.

And understandably so, The North was always in crisis.

The region was teeming with dungeons.

One of them even housed the nest of the Ice Dragon.

Powerful monsters constantly spilled out from these dungeons, and Selvaro had no choice but to remain at his post.

He was the emperor. It was his duty to preserve this nation.

“Y-Your Majesty!”

Just then, someone ran up to him in a panic.

Though such behavior would normally be considered rude, Selvaro didn’t point it out.

In this place, urgency like this was commonplace.

“The Ice Dragon has emerged from the dungeon again!”

“!”

The Ice Dragon—Freezing.

Just before the Hero’s execution, it had left its nest and thrown the nation into chaos, forcing Selvaro to engage in battle immediately.

Regardless of his own opinion, that had been the reason he couldn’t attend the Hero’s execution.

Clack.

Selvaro immediately grabbed his weapons and stepped outside. The flustered official who had brought the news followed him.

The throne where Selvaro had just been sitting remained behind, engulfed in silence.

“……”

At that moment, Selimia re-entered the hall, Or more precisely—she was dragged back inside.

She looked down at her feet.

There, a shackle made of ice—visible only to her—was clasped tightly around her slender ankle.

“If it weren’t for this cursed thing…”

Selvaro could have left the palace and run to the Hero.

He could have found out what was true.

Clatter.

She lifted the shackle, recalling the past.

The day the Ice Dragon Freezing had entered the palace in its polymorphed form.

The day that calamity had bound her with a shackle of eternal frost.

“…Ha.”

Selvaro had sought help from Holy Krata, but their priests had only said there was nothing they could do.

But Selimia knew.

Krata didn’t want Selvaro to leave the North.

Because he was too steadfast to obey their will.

Perhaps the Hero could have broken the curse.

But all she had done was greet him here.

She never told him about the curse.

She didn’t want the Ice Dragon to notice him.

The Ice Dragon had no interest in the world.

It only lived for itself on this land steeped in frost.

The Hero had far greater things to do.

She couldn’t burden him with such a petty nuisance.

“Still… if I had known it would come to this…”

She recalled the stories he used to tell her every time he visited the palace.

That gentle voice.

That bright smile.

Crack.

Her fang bit into her lip.

White blood trickled down from her lips.

Perhaps this shackle now existed solely for her.

If it were ever released, even if she gained freedom for a brief moment, she might walk straight into death.

Crack.

Yet even she was unaware, that cracks had begun to form in the shackle around her ankle.

—You fool!

At that very moment, high above where Selvaro had marched out with his weapons, the Ice Dragon Freezing let out a thunderous roar.

—I told you, time and time again! That girl is not your sister!

Despite the beast’s shouting, Selvaro only swung his sword, blocking Freezing from approaching the palace.

—Your little sister died the moment she got lost! The one who returned was someone else! Born from the illusions of your sister’s delirium, mimicking a body made of ice...!

“Silence.”

Selvaro’s eyes flashed cold.

“She is my sister.”

Selvaro, whose only talent was guarding, refused to accept the loss from his childhood.

“To break this curse, I will destroy you.”

—You idiot!

Freezing clamped his jaws shut.

The Hero who once came here likely knew the truth already. He had spared the ‘Witch of the Snowfield’—a being who could summon catastrophe to the North—out of mere pity.

Freezing was a creature that even he himself could only seal temporarily.

The Hero had died bearing that burden, but the man before him now was different.

As the curse began to weaken, Freezing once again took up battle, attempting to tighten the bindings of the seal.

And then—

Squelch.

“Huff… huff…”

At last, Freezing was slain, his neck severed by Selvaro.

“Kh… guh…”

Mortally wounded, Selvaro too finally fulfilled his duty and collapsed.

And back within the palace—

“Ahh.”

Selimia looked at the completely shattered shackle, fragments of ice swirling around her.

She let out a small smile.

“You won… brother.”

She began to walk slowly.

“Since you’ve earned the victory, I’ll tell you something. He… can never die.”

Creak.

The door opened and then shut.

And there, only the throne remained, steeped in silence.

♧

“Demon King.”

Cardin addressed Clay.

“I’ve completed the investigation you assigned me…”

What he placed upon the desk was a map of the Demon Realm.

“Our enemies are humans, are they not? Why did you instruct me to analyze the weak points of key locations in the Demon Realm…?”

The map Cardin had brought was marked with the former territories once ruled by the previous Four Generals. Alongside them were detailed notes on the weaknesses of each domain.

“Forming a new set of Four Generals alone won’t be enough to exert full control over the Demon Realm.”

Clay spoke as he reviewed the map.

“After the previous Demon King’s defeat, the Demon Realm fractured. It’s been reduced to little more than a wilderness, preyed upon by human purges. If it weren’t such a desolate wasteland, the Holy Alliance would have long since swept it away and planted their flags.”

A glint of resolve flashed in his eyes.

“I’ll show them how weak the Demon Realm has become—by conquering it myself.”

“…What?” Cardin’s jaw dropped. “Conquer it? You mean—?”

“Yes.”

“But, Demon King, the Demon Realm—”

“Is not yet mine.”

Clay spoke firmly.

“Geshkafor is merely a candidate for one of the Four Generals, not yet a true representative of any domain. The other candidates as well—if they come under my banner, they still won’t function as a true force. That’s why I must personally seize control and assign their roles myself.”

The Demon Realm was a land of savagery.

Or rather, it resembled something closer to the primordial.

For those who lived in its ruined lands, thievery and plunder were daily life.

They were not born to be ruled.

The former Demon King had never tried to unify them. He merely gathered a small elite to attack humanity.

As his exploits spread across the realm, the demons began to revere him on their own.

They believed he would deliver them from the wasteland to new lands.

It was just an illusion, but thinking there was a reward waiting, the demons had followed him.

The aid of the previous Four Generals had been instrumental in that.

Beatrice alone had power leagues above someone like Geshkafor.

Now that the former Demon King was gone and the demons’ illusions had been shattered, it was the perfect time to raise an army through fear.

To declare that a madman had arisen—one who would rule everything—and that joining his vengeance would be the only way to share in his glory.

“Cardin.” Clay placed a finger on the map, “Our first campaign will begin here.”

“Here…?”

Cardin looked down at the spot Clay had indicated.

It was the northern region of the Demon Realm—where Geshkafor had come from.

“Demon King, would it not be wiser to start elsewhere?”

“Why?”

“That area borders the very edge of Hanumayer. There have been instances of dungeon monsters flooding in from the snow mountains. It could lead to unpredictable complications.”

“Are they strong?”

“Pardon?”

“I asked—are they strong?”

Cardin answered with a troubled expression.

“Of course, they’re no match for you, my lord, but the monsters there are incredibly fierce and savage—perhaps due to constant starvation. Lately, both their numbers and their appearances have increased significantly. It may disrupt your efforts to demonstrate your majesty.”

“I see.”

Clay tapped his finger on the desk a few times. Then, as if something occurred to him, he spoke.

“Yes, you’re right. It could be dangerous.”

“Then shall I prepare another region firs—”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Clay caught Cardin off guard.

“The North is ruled by Selvaro. If the monsters are crossing into my path like that…”

A smile crept across his face.

“…then it might just be good news.”

It was a smile worthy of a Demon King.

(End of Chapter)