There were objections.

Even with the Demonic Sword, it was dangerous for the Demon King to move alone—so said the demons who came to express their concerns.

“I understand.” Even so, Clay told them, “But to meet Altanato, I have to go alone.”

To be precise, only a weapon and its wielder could enter the place where Altanato slumbered.

According to the former Demon King’s journal, Altanato slept while bound to a divine artifact that could fulfill his wishes within a feasible reality.

To awaken him, one had to follow the procedure in accordance with the scenario he desired.

And what he desired was this—

To forge the weapon of a being worthy of ruling an era.

Naturally, he had prepared to only meet someone of that worth who came alone. That warning had been left clearly in the journal.

“I’ve already made my decision.”

Through his conversation with Athanasia, Clay confirmed that Altanato had indeed only ever met with a single individual when accepting a commission.

If Altanato truly held to such a conviction, then violating the rules might result in the path to him being closed forever.

So Clay dismissed the demons who had voiced their concern, and finally set out with Syltanaro.

“Um, my lord.”

Walking beside him, Syltanaro asked,

“We don’t know when the ancient god who appeared in Yaphenon will reach Barungenia… are you sure this is okay?”

Clay replied quietly, noting her belated concern.

“The blood-drinker will want to grow stronger first. He’ll head for a place crowded with people. We still have time.”

“I see.”

After a brief pause, Syltanaro opened her mouth again.

“Um… I don’t know if I should ask this, but…”

“It’s fine. Speak.”

“Why didn’t the previous Demon King forge me if he knew all this?”

If he could have borrowed Altanato’s power, he might have gained the upper hand in the war against humanity.

“It wasn’t that he wouldn’t—it was that he couldn’t.”

The Demon King had lamented in his journal about being unable to acquire Altanato’s power. Even though he’d uncovered Altanato’s resting place through ancient ruins, he ultimately failed to obtain his strength.

“Altanato only forged weapons for gods and humans.”

The records left in Krata’s library showed that Altanato had a clear standard of worth. He regarded demons as no different from beasts. And at the time, that was understandable—demons had yet to develop true intellect.

“Even now, because of that legacy, modern dwarves only offer their talents to human heroes. You know this too, Syltanaro.”

“Ah…”

Syltanaro let out a quiet sigh at Clay’s explanation.

“Now that I think about it, you're right… Dwarves always keep their distance from demons…”

Then something suddenly clicked in her mind, and she flinched. Seeing her freeze, Clay asked,

“So, you’ve finally realized.”

The former Demon King couldn’t use Altanato’s power because he was a demon. But Clay—being human—could summon him.

“I’m sorry!”

Syltanaro came to a halt and bowed deeply.

“I was disrespectful to you, my lord!”

“It’s fine.”

Clay placed a hand on her shoulder and gently straightened her posture.

“I don’t mind the fact that I’m human.”

In fact, he was constantly thinking about how to weaponize even that trait.

“So don’t let it weigh on you either. We’ve got much to do together going forward, and I won’t waste time quibbling over trivial slights.”

“My lord…”

Meeting his gaze, Syltanaro declared with determination,

“I’ll do my best to meet your expectations!”

“How dramatic.”

Clay chuckled dryly. Syltanaro muttered quietly as she watched him.

“Still… I really do prefer it when it’s just the two of us…”

“What was that?”

“N-Nothing!”

Syltanaro quickly shook her head, and Clay turned his gaze forward again.

“We don’t have time to waste. Let’s move quickly. We’ll have to pass through areas swarming with mindless monsters.”

Clay frowned, recalling the region—full of creatures that would charge anything that moved, Demon King or not.

“Don’t worry, my lord.”

Syltanaro’s expression shifted, her eyes gleaming sharply.

“I’ll cut down anything that gets in your way.”

However, what they encountered was no ordinary monster.

“What… is that?”

The Forest of Monsters.

There, standing tall after having torn apart all the other beasts—

Grraaaah!

—a hulking mass of pure magia.

◊

Many kinds of monsters lived in the forest.

But even Clay, who had faced countless monsters as a Hero, had never seen one like this.

‘What is that…?’

Its basic form resembled an ogre. But it was several times larger, with forearms so thick they looked like boulders and long enough to match its own height.

Its vacant, maddened eyes were clouded with a bruised indigo hue.

Grrrrrrrr…!

Tossing aside the corpses in its hands, the monster lumbered toward Clay.

“My lord!”

When Syltanaro stepped in front of him, Clay spoke.

“Syltanaro. I appreciate it, but don’t forget your role.”

“Ah.”

She immediately transformed into a sword and settled into Clay’s grip.

『Forgive me.』

“No need.”

More pressing was identifying what this monster actually was.

‘Nothing’s scarier than an unknown enemy.’

With the ancient gods awakening, any unknown variable—even to him, a former Hero—was the ultimate threat.

ROAAAR!

In the blink of an eye, the monster charged and raised its massive arm.

BOOOOM!

Its speed belied its size.

Before he could dodge, the fist came down. Clay raised his sword to block it.

CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!

But that wasn’t the end.

The creature didn’t just strike once—it kept pressing down, driving Clay into the ground like a meteor strike.

The earth beneath Clay’s firmly planted feet began to crack under the pressure.

“This is irritating.”

An ambush was one thing—but a punch strong enough to match blades with the Demonic Sword?

‘If it were a normal monster, its arm would’ve been severed on the spot.’

Whatever the reason, those grotesquely enlarged arms had clearly undergone some absurd form of hardening.

“Syltanaro. I’ll pour my magia into you.”

But what he held was no ordinary weapon—it was the Demonic Sword.

If it couldn’t slice through mere hardened flesh, then perhaps it was the blade—not the monster—that was dull. To save face, he had to restore its edge.

Shhhhhh!

With an explosive surge of magia, the blade grew sharper and began to carve into the monster’s arm.

Grrraaaah!

Then, while keeping one arm pressing down on Clay, the monster whipped its other arm sideways like a flail.

BOOM!

Clay had no choice but to abandon the power struggle and leap aside. The blow struck the ground where he had just stood.

“You’re fighting like a proper monster.”

Its movements, driven by instinct, were swift and deadly—so precise in exploiting openings that they rivaled calculated strategy.

RAAAAAAH!

Of course, the monster didn’t stop there. Bursting forth from the destroyed terrain, it swung its massive arms at Clay like weapons.

Even with Syltanaro brimming with killing intent, the blade barely scratched the monster’s arms—it couldn’t slice through them. All it did was leave shallow wounds.

‘And those wounds are healing immediately.’

Was there ever a monster without prior records that could do all this?

Just as the thought crossed his mind, Clay sensed something—and quickly turned his head.

“!”

For the briefest moment, a shadow appeared on top of a tree in the distance—then vanished.

‘I see.’

This wasn’t pure monster strength alone. Someone was aiding its regeneration.

“Syltanaro.”

Clay tightened his grip on the hilt.

“Maintain this edge for three minutes.”

Fwoosh!

He charged and immediately swung at the monster. When it blocked with its hardened arms, Clay slashed again. Then again—and again—each strike targeting areas its arms couldn't cover.

Grrrrrgh!

The monster growled like a pained beast and staggered backward.

“So, it does feel pain.”

Even without reason, if it felt pain, then things changed.

“Let’s see how long you can endure it.”

Only the arms had that level of hardening.

That meant he could end this quickly by targeting the rest.

ROOOOOAR!

The monster, its wounds healed again, bellowed straight at him. Clay surged forward against the roar, swinging his blade upward from below.

Fwoooosh!

A crescent slash flew like an arrow toward the monster.

It instinctively raised both arms to block.

Slash!

Clay slipped under those arms, skimming across the ground. As he passed by, he severed one of its ankles—then used the momentum to rise back up.

The monster wobbled and bent at the waist. Clay spun and leapt, aiming to slash its neck—but—

He failed.

The monster had instantly healed its ankle and regained balance.

“Got you.”

But Clay wasn’t disappointed. He had expected this.

Using the monster’s body as a stepping stone, he leapt again—this time toward the true enemy, the one casting healing magic: the figure in the trees.

Brush—

His blade swept past the hooded figure, knocking off their hood as they instinctively covered their face.

In that brief moment, Clay locked eyes with them.

They smiled.

Though attacked, they looked pleased—happy to see Clay.

“…”

Landing back on the ground, Clay lowered his sword and raised his gaze diagonally.

“That was close, brother.”

Blue hair.

A deep, magical aura. The gaze that looked down at him was unmistakably hers.

“Yuru.” Clay spoke in a low voice, “You were waiting for me on this path.”

“I had a feeling you’d come this way.”

“How did you guess?”

Yuru tilted her head.

“I didn’t guess.”

She smiled again.

“It was fate.”

“I wasn’t asking to hear nonsense.”

“Hmm~, but it’s true. I just came to wrap your gift.”

Gift-wrapping.

A jarring phrase to hear in this place. Clay’s brow furrowed.

“Gift?”

“Yup.”

Yuru pointed at the monster.

“I picked something up in Yaphenon to give to you. But I figured if it wasn’t wrapped, you’d get suspicious. Not that it matters now that you’ve seen through it.”

“I see.”

At last, Clay understood how that monster came to be.

“You embedded a magia core into it so it could keep devouring corrupted mana.”

“Exactly. I wanted to fill it with as much magia as I could before slipping it onto your finger.”

She gestured to her own ring finger as she spoke.

“Don’t forget, no matter what trial you face…”

There was zeal in her eyes—pure fanaticism.

“At the end of it, I’ll be there.”

(End of Chapter)

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