"A prisoner who rivals a hero, huh..."
I turn Luciana's words over in my mind.
Until this moment, I had forgotten, but I knew of only one such individual.
As I dredge up memories from my past life, Luciana leans in to peer at my face.
"Do you perhaps have someone in mind?"
"It was ten years ago, so I can't be sure. For now, let's go take a look."
"Right. We need to hurry with reinforcements or they'll breach the perimeter."
Luciana and I take flight, heading for the prison.
It's a straight shot, so it doesn't take long.
After flying for a short while, we arrive at the prison on the outskirts of the capital.
It's a stark, unadorned structure built from black stone, covered by a barrier that has lost its function and frayed at the edges.
The chain-link fence surrounding the grounds has collapsed, and undead wander aimlessly here and there.
"Is this the place?"
"Except for the prisoner in question, the area is mostly secured."
We descend into the compound and enter the prison through a damaged entrance.
The inside is also overflowing with undead; over half of them appear to be individuals dressed as prisoners or guards.
They are in a state of waiting for orders.
With nothing specific to do, they wander the interior listlessly.
I move through the prison, following Luciana's lead.
"This way."
Almost simultaneously, the sound of commotion reached us.
Around the corner lay an expansive space without partitions.
Scattered dishes and food told the story—this appeared to be a dining hall.
"Come at me!"
A rough, spirited voice boomed through the room.
A single man was swinging a long table, scattering undead in all directions.
Worn prison garb and unkempt straw-colored hair.
His beard was unshaved too, making his features hard to discern.
But his savage grin was clearly visible even from my vantage point.
Around him, broken and incapacitated undead lay strewn about.
A rough count would put the number well over a hundred.
This man had felled all of them by himself.
I watched him from a slight distance.
"That man, huh..."
"The damage has spread further than before. What on earth is going on?"
Luciana sounded slightly exasperated.
Seeing this scene, it was easy to understand her feelings.
"So, do you know that prisoner?"
"Not well enough to call it acquaintances. I hadn't expected him to still be locked up in the prison."
My ambiguous answer only made Luciana's expression grow more troubled.
She crossed her arms and let out a groan.
"Someone among your acquaintances with hero-level strength...? If such a person existed, I think the Demon Lord's army would have known about them..."
"It's no surprise you don't. That man was imprisoned before the fighting with the Demon Lord's army intensified."
"What did he do?"
"His overly unruly nature made him unable to follow discipline, let alone commit crimes without batting an eye. You could say he was closer to a rowdy brigand."
I had never met the man directly, but I had heard plenty about his bad conduct.
Originally a disgraced mercenary, he had been hired by a small nation as a soldier.
His strength went without saying—he was once even proposed as a candidate for subjugating the Demon Lord.
Had he not been imprisoned immediately after, he would have set out on the journey to defeat the Demon Lord alongside us.
Considering he was ultimately executed in the Valley of the Dead, I was glad we hadn't become comrades back then.
That such a man served as a warden was likely due to his own peculiar fixation.
I heard he was, strangely, quite scrupulous at times.
Perhaps he had grown curious about the prisoners' lives and, in the end, found he liked it.
Or perhaps it was just a whim.
Among the information I had, there was also a note that the man was a moody individual.
Either way, containing a man of his caliber was no easy task.
The small nation must have been constantly on edge.
There was always the fear that he might attempt to escape on a whim.
"He wasn't executed because his strength was too valuable to waste, I suppose. I never imagined he'd still be a prisoner ten years later."
"Quite different from the kingdom that threw you into the Valley of the Dead."
"...Absolutely."
While we spoke, the man continued to destroy an enormous number of undead.
He wielded a blood-soaked long table, moving freely throughout the room.
The undead remains could be repurposed if reassembled, so that was fine, but leaving them scattered too long would be dangerous.
Just as I thought that and started to step forward, the man turned toward me.
"Hey, you black skeleton over there! Yes, you!"
The man's voice carried clearly.
He was obviously referring to me.
I exchanged a glance with Luciana.
She shrugged and shook her head.
It seemed she was at a loss.
I had my subordinate undead divide left and right, clearing a path toward the man, and advanced.
The man lowered the half-broken table and spoke to me in a casual tone.
"You're the boss of the undead here, right? I've got something to talk about."
"What is it?"
"I'm tired of dealing with these small fry. Let's have a one-on-one."
The man proposed with a grin that resembled a beast.
There was no hint of a joke in his atmosphere.
Apparently, he was serious.
I stopped and answered from a slight distance.
"A duel? I don't have time to bother with you—"
"Hah—!"
As if cutting off my words, the man moved.
He rushed in at a height low enough to crawl along the ground.
In an instant, he closed the distance to me and unleashed a sweeping roundhouse kick, as if reaping my head.
I quickly dodged my upper body.
"Ugh—"
A fierce shock ran beneath my jaw, and bone fragments flew.
The kick had grazed me and shattered part of it.
When I was human, that impact would have rattled my brain and left me incapacitated. But now, as a skeletal undead, this level of damage was insignificant.
"You're fragile! Come on, give me more!"
The provoking man thrust a fist forward along a sharp trajectory.
I activated my defensive magic just before impact.
The man's fist dug into the barrier, causing it to screech and crack before shattering into pieces.
However, his attack speed had slowed ever so slightly.
In that opening, I leaped backward to create distance.
(...Incredible destructive power.)
I admitted it honestly.
The man showed no trace of using magic.
He had pierced through my defenses using purely physical attacks alone.
Even accounting for the restraint he was using, my defenses shouldn't have crumbled so easily, but since it had actually happened, I couldn't deny it.
In any case, close combat was disadvantageous for me.
Though I had acquired various combat skills in the Valley of the Dead, including some excelling in melee attacks, they were somewhat lacking against the man before me.
Only that person's swordsmanship could have served as a counter, but there was no need to deliberately fight in my opponent's area of expertise.
In life, I had been a sage.
I specialized in long-range tactics and unconventional methods.
My abilities as an undead were also those suited for a mage.
I manipulated the surrounding undead, commanding them all to leap at the man simultaneously.
Unlike the semi-autonomous attacks from before, I was now issuing clear orders.
Their coordinated movements made them far more difficult to deal with.
"Oh?"
The man's eyes widened in surprise.
He quickly grabbed a long table and swung it with his entire body.
With a thunderous sound, the undead were scattered in all directions.
Their attacks couldn't reach him.
He had dispatched them with a single swing.
(Was that method also ineffective?)
Most importantly, in combat, even a single moment of hesitation could prove fatal.
I thrust both hands forward, unleashing an enormous fireball from them.
The fireball scorched the floor as it hurtled along a trajectory to swallow the man.
I could no longer see the man who had failed to dodge.
The fireball continued on to collide with the interior wall, triggering a massive explosion.
Huge chunks were gouged from the wall and floor, and thick white smoke billowed upward.
"…………"
I stared intently at the explosion site, not letting my guard down.
After a moment, a figure emerged from the white smoke.
"Ouch. I was this close to becoming a burnt offering."
The man grumbled, shaking the dirt from his shredded prisoner's uniform.
The bleeding was minimal, and looking closely, he only had burns on his palms.
Unbelievable, but he must have stopped that fireball with his bare hands.
It was an attack that could easily shatter even castle walls reinforced with defensive magic, and yet he had managed it.
As I observed the man, Luciana came running over.
"Lord Demon Lord, are you alright?"
"Ah, no problem."
I stopped Luciana as she reached to touch her missing jawbone.
The damage would be resolved by switching bodies.
It wouldn't matter even if I were ground to dust.
Meanwhile, Luciana glanced at the man with a look of unease.
"Who... is he? He doesn't merely match a hero. He surpasses any ordinary hero. I can't believe it..."
It was only natural to wonder.
As I prepared my next spell, I answered her question.
"Henry Blarkin. An undefeated warrior, and the man said to be closest to being a 'Demon King Slayer.'"