"Who are you? This city was supposed to be sealed behind a barrier, so how did you get in?"
The girl says with a look of suspicion.
Her tone carries a clear sense of contempt towards me.
The others from the Holy Staff Nation are always on guard, ready to cast their magic at a moment's notice.
"..."
I quietly use detection magic to probe the condition of the entire city.
At the same time, I decide to engage her in conversation to buy time.
"...And who are you, exactly?"
"Me? I'm Makia Rin Midi-torutia. Does 'Holy Maiden' ring a bell? My job is to kill filthy undead like you."
Holy Maiden Makia declares, her voice brimming with confidence.
Her words are likely the truth.
The holy aura overflowing from her delicate frame possesses an extraordinary density.
Just looking directly at that radiance is unpleasant; if I had physical eyes, they might have been burned to a crisp.
Simply approaching Makia would instantly purify ghouls and skeletons, no questions asked.
It seems she is the source of the purification power deployed across this entire urban area.
This isn't large-scale ritual magic—it isn't even holy magic.
Judging by her casual demeanor, Makia is naturally emitting that much holy aura.
She shows no signs of magical exhaustion either.
She's not just an ordinary human.
She is enveloped in a searingly powerful holy aura, unlike anything I have ever seen before.
It was the kind of being only found in myth.
( I know the name Saint Makia Lin Mideetoltia )
She is a symbolic figure of the Holy Staff Nation in this era.
According to preliminary information, she is a political puppet, holding almost no real power.
Though she is a user of sacred magic, her skill should have been only average.
The Makia before me now has undergone some sort of transformation.
"Answer my question, too. Who are you?"
Her question pulls my consciousness back.
I answer clearly and boldly.
"I am the Demon King."
"Really? Somehow you seem less impressive than I imagined. The undead sleeping next to you would be a better fit, wouldn't they? You were fighting with an incredible killing intent. Thanks to that, my subordinates all fled."
Makia speaks with mockery.
Is she trying to provoke me into losing my composure?
Or is she simply a bad person by nature?
Either way, reacting to her words would be a poor move.
I take this opportunity to expand the effective range of my sensing magic.
That is how I discover Henry and the interception force.
They are lying in wait within the city.
They are at a location some distance from here.
Their numbers have dwindled considerably, and their presence is strangely faint.
The accompanying elves were using stealth-class magic to conceal their locations.
Probably to avoid detection by the Holy Staff Nation.
A sound judgment given the circumstances.
"Well, whatever. Can you die for me first? I want to take a break soon."
With a sigh, Makia casually waved her hand.
Her feet began to glow, and from there, over a dozen chains shot upward.
The chains writhed with beast-like agility, aiming straight for me.
I remained stationary, cutting down each incoming chain without moving from the spot.
Even if they were fast, they weren't fast enough to match that person's swordsmanship.
In the blink of an eye, all the chains were destroyed.
Makia, who had been watching the scene, applauded nonchalantly.
"Amazing. Taking that attack unscathed—you really are the Demon King, huh?"
"Saint Makia. What is the source of your power?"
"Oh, you mean divine magic? I learned it suddenly about ten days ago. Thanks to that, my status shot up instantly. There was no trigger, so it might be a gift for a faithful soul like me."
Makia revealed it without hesitation.
She called it "divine magic," not "holy magic."
Indeed, her power was too potent to be classified as standard holy magic.
It seemed to exist in a separate category from existing techniques.
If Makia's account was to be believed, she had suddenly awakened to this divine magic.
Even she seemed unsure of the cause.
It was an utterly unnatural story.
In normal circumstances, one might suspect it was a lie.
But I knew of a similar phenomenon.
The current hero.
The young man, backed by the world itself, suddenly acquired the power of the holy sword.
A man who had been nothing more than a soldier was now able to single-handedly slaughter an army of undead.
It was an event so unbelievable it seemed like a fairy tale.
Saint Makia had been chosen as the world's savior.
When considered as a being prepared to destroy the immortal Demon King, even her inexplicable aspects made sense.
Her sudden acquisition of immense power, and this profound elemental disadvantage—I could understand it all.
She was an existence created to defeat me, so of course the odds favored her side.
"Anyway, just hurry up and die. Having the title 'Demon King Slayer' attached to my name would really add some prestige, wouldn't it?"
"Try it if you can. I will kill all of you."
I pointed the tip of my sword at Makia.
Makia snorted derisively, and the ground at her feet began to glow in unison.
Before long, countless chains began to surge upward.
"Oh my, to say something like that in this situation, huh?"
Makia swung both her arms.
In sync with her motion, a massive volley of chains was launched.
An innumerable torrent of chains surged forth like a raging flood.
(Slaying the Saint comes second to this.)
If we fight here, those I could save will be lost.
I shattered the chain bindings restraining Grom and, hoisting him onto my shoulder, teleported.
We materialized in a corner of the city, far from the Holy Staff forces.
Corpses lay scattered around us.
Unarmed humans.
They must have been the city's residents.
The bodies bore the marks of spear and sword.
Done by the Holy Staff army, without a doubt.
A fury stirred within me, but now, even time was a luxury I couldn't afford.
"Grom, are you alright?"
I called out, patting his shoulder.
The cracked bones of the minotaur's head did not respond.
As I was about to call again, a small flame flickered to life in one of his eye sockets.
I felt his gaze from there.
"Ma... master... for... give me... I am... truly... sorry..."
Understanding the situation, Grom's first words were an apology.
Though utterly spent, he was lost in deep self-reproach.
I shook my head.
"You were up against a poor opponent. The fault isn't yours. It is I who should apologize for being late to your aid."
Had I judged faster, things wouldn't have gotten this bad.
The blame falls entirely on me.
"I'll handle the rest now. Focus on your recovery."
I say only that and teleport Grom to the Royal Capital.
Luciana can take it from here.
Grom is at death's door, but it's not too late.
Once he clears this purification space, he'll gradually begin to recover.
Next, I teleport to the interception force.
Amid the collapsed structure that has turned into a debris field, Henry emerges from a gap in the wreckage.
"Hey, Commander... you came."
Henry has injured one leg and drags it when he walks.
Aside from that, he has no other noticeable wounds.
"Can you move?"
"Damn, I got outplayed. Got hit while shielding my men. My luck's finally run out."
Henry taps his injured leg with a bitter smile.
There was a good deal of self-mockery in it.
He seems exasperated with his own actions.
But Henry quickly finished laughing and adopted a serious expression.
He pointed at the surrounding debris field.
According to sensing magic, numerous living presences are hiding within.
"The undead subordinates are nearly wiped out, but the monsters and elves remain. They're scattered and hiding nearby, but you should be able to sense them, General? The wounded should be fine once they receive treatment."
"Well done. You are an excellent commander."
"Heh, high praise indeed. Buy me a drink when we return."
Henry laughs and raises his hand.
When I tilt my head at the mysterious gesture, he prompts me to imitate it.
Puzzled, I raise my hand—my bony one—and he claps it against his own.
It made no good sound, being bone.
(Some kind of signal?)
I don't remember agreeing to any such code.
I didn't understand.
"...Well, fine. It suits you, General."
Perhaps my reaction was too flat, because Henry shrugs.
Unfortunately, I failed to meet his expectations.
Feeling apologetic, I nevertheless gathered the intercepting force and teleported them away. They too should focus on healing in the Royal Capital.
As for the hand-clapping gesture, I intend to ask Henry for an explanation after we return.
(But first, let's finish what needs to be done.)
Having made up my mind, I used teleportation magic to return to Saint Makia and the Holy Staff Nation's army.