Who is it that’s saving us right now?

Golde, a miner from Donon, stood frozen in place, his short figure trembling with confusion.

‘What is she talking about?’

To him, the only one who could save them was the Spirit King, Naiad. That monster slaughtering people and drinking their blood, and the corpse Beatrice had reanimated—those couldn’t possibly be saviors.

Clang!

Amidst it all, Clay continued swinging his sword at the creature known as Vlad.

Clack! Crackle!

Vlad countered with his blood sword, the clash of blades ringing across the battlefield.

Whoosh!

Just then, the tip of Clay’s sword shot straight toward Vlad’s face.

Rumble!

But it didn’t land. From the pool of blood beneath him, red spikes surged upward like a shield, stopping the blade in its tracks.

“!”

The sword struck the spikes but could not pierce through.

Vlad retaliated with his blood sword from the blind spot created by the wall of spikes, forcing Clay to retreat swiftly.

『All you do is dance around like a clown.』

Vlad sneered.

『You can’t do anything.』

He stepped forward, nodding condescendingly.

『If you wanted to live longer, you should have run instead of coming for me.』

At that, Clay let out a small laugh.

“I’ve never lived a life of running.”

Whether as Hero or as Demon King—

“Unfortunately for you, it looks like this time won’t be any different.”

Clay charged at Vlad once more.

『Fool. Your attacks can’t harm m—』

“I borrow your insignia, Altanato.”

The moment Clay uttered that name, Vlad flinched.

“Seal it.”

The insignia engraved on Syltanaro’s blade shimmered and began to shift.

“Vampyr.”

Flash!

The red spikes Vlad summoned instantly melted at the blade’s touch.

No—

『?!』

They weren’t melting. They were being absorbed.

Ssss!

『What is this?!』

Vlad barely dodged the blow and backed off hastily.

“It’s not over.”

Clay shifted his stance immediately and swung at Vlad again.

Shhk!

He struck. A slice across Vlad’s arm.

『Tch!』

Though the wound quickly refilled with blood, that wasn’t what mattered to Vlad.

Unbelievable.

The instant Clay’s sword touched him, it siphoned his blood. The hardened skin tearing was a secondary concern.

He melted my blood and absorbed it. What kind of weapon has Altanato created?

There was no time for an answer. Clay’s relentless assault continued.

“How does it feel—being devoured, instead of doing the devouring?”

Clay chased after Vlad, pushing him back.

“Are you scared?”

『Nonsense!』

Vlad, abandoning evasion, swung his blood sword with a roar.

『I won’t be defeated by some petty trick!』

Clang!

Swords clashed.

Clang! Clang clang! Kaang!

Vlad minimized contact with Syltanaro while pressing Clay harder and harder.

『I don’t know what Altanato did to that blade, but it’s not your own strength.』

Vlad sneered, aiming directly for Clay’s vital points.

『Got you.』

While Syltanaro was knocked aside, a red spike shot straight for Clay’s ribs.

Thunk!

『What?!』

It should’ve skewered Clay’s torso.

“I’ve dealt with more than my share of tricksters.”

Years of talent and experience as a Hero had all been carved into Clay.

“You’re nothing but a mass of vulnerabilities.”

Clay dodged the spike by a hair’s breadth and slashed at Vlad.

Vlad reflexively raised his sword to block.

And they clashed.

Clay allowed Syltanaro to absorb Vlad’s blood during the contact.

『You—!』

Vlad’s sword liquefied and his blood flowed into Clay’s weapon. He quickly disengaged and leapt back.

“Now I understand how someone as strong as you lost to Elhaen.”

Overconfidence.

Overreliance on a single strength.

“If you’d picked up any random iron sword, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

At those words, Vlad instinctively looked around, searching for nearby weapons.

“No.”

Clay didn’t miss the opening—he landed several blows in rapid succession.

“Too late.”

Slash! Slash! Shhk!

Syltanaro cut through Vlad’s body, absorbing even more of his blood.

『A mere worm… dares prey on me…?!』

Vlad flew into a frenzy, hurling crimson spikes in every direction. Most were blocked by Clay’s sword and turned into offerings of blood, but some managed to slice into Clay’s flesh.

『You won’t win here. Not today.』

Seizing the moment as Clay flinched, Vlad dashed toward the crowd.

『Give me your blood!』

He skewered civilians one by one with crimson spikes, draining them dry.

“Aaagh!”

“M-Monster’s attacking us!”

“Run for your lives!”

Panic erupted among the miners as they fled in terror. Vlad pursued them relentlessly, growing stronger with each kill.

『Demon King, there are many civilians in this city.』

“I know.”

Clay replied as he adjusted his stance and began to move again.

As a mining nation, Donon’s population was densely clustered around the mines. This city, in particular, held the highest concentration.

Vlad must have chosen it for that reason.

Clay had no intention of letting him carry out a massacre.

Boom!

With a powerful stomp, Clay launched himself forward—and landed directly in front of Vlad.

『You—!』

“Hah…!”

Standing there too was Golde, the miner who had nearly been skewered moments ago.

“Get out of the way.”

Clay left him with just those words before swinging at Vlad once more.

Their battle resumed in full force.

One bathed in crimson. The other cloaked in shadow.

The two streaked across the battlefield in a blur, clashing violently. Crimson spikes pierced the air while Clay’s sword carved trails of shimmering afterimages—dozens, hundreds of them.

The collision of blades shattered minecarts, crushed storage sheds.

But no one complained.

They could only watch in awe and terror, swallowing dryly as the storm of battle surged around them.

“What… the hell…”

Golde, saved by Clay, could only mutter in disbelief.

“Why did he… save me…?”

That man—Clay—was supposed to be nothing more than a corpse under Beatrice’s control. And yet, what he had just witnessed wasn’t something a puppet could possibly show.

Boom! Ka-boom!

The two shadowy figures clashed again, a storm raging around them as their battle swept back toward the crowd.

Clang! Crackle!

Blood-red spikes lashed out toward the people once more, but Clay’s sword intercepted their path, deflecting them with only a brief spark of friction.

And in that moment, the people finally understood.

Clay was fighting to protect them.

He drove himself mad with swordplay, cutting through and pushing Vlad further and further away from the civilians. And he didn’t stop—he swung and swung again.

『This can’t be…!』

Every time Vlad’s body touched Clay’s sword, it melted—his blood siphoned away. Over and over again. And then, a chill ran down Vlad’s spine.

He realized it—at this rate, he would be eradicated.

『The Demon King shouldn’t be this powerful!』

“You’re mistaken.”

Clay’s crimson eyes glowed.

“I’m not the kind of existence you think I am.”

He had once been a Hero—and now a Demon King. He hadn’t come this far through ordinary means.

“I know your kind all too well.”

Those born too powerful often found themselves trapped by their very strength.

“It’s time someone reminded you what fear feels like.”

And he would be the one to bring that forgotten nightmare to the surface.

“Elhaen.”

Flash!

A burst of light exploded from Clay’s body—not divine power, but a trick: a mimicry of holy light layered over magia. Still, it was enough.

『Hyaaahhhhh!』

More than enough to stop Vlad in his tracks—no, to throw him into panic.

『You bastard! You’re a disciple of Elhaen?!』

Zzzzing!

The light wrapped around Syltanaro, making the blade look like a massive greatsword.

“A dead disciple,” Clay said calmly.

BOOM!

He charged forward, his sword piercing straight through Vlad’s frozen chest.

『Graaahhh!』

But Clay didn’t stop.

He pushed forward like a bullet, driving Vlad back with unrelenting force.

Crunch!

Vlad summoned blood spikes from his body in desperation—but they didn’t land.

No, they bent before they could reach Clay. They melted.

Syltanaro was consuming Vlad from within, devouring him at the core. Every ounce of blood he had left was being forced to rush there for preservation.

『Y-You bastard…!』

Vlad howled in desperation.

『I am a god! A catastrophe! You cannot defeat me!』

“I will forge a new inscription.”

The letters engraved on Syltanaro’s blade writhed.

“Bleeding.”

They changed.

Now, Vlad’s body could no longer retain its shape—blood poured from him uncontrollably.

『W-What…?!』

“Bleeding,” Clay repeated, staring Vlad down.

“Did you think you’d never bleed?”

Drip. Drip.

Blood streamed from Vlad’s crumbling form as he screamed at the sight of himself.

『No! No! Come back! That’s my blood!』

“It was never yours.”

Clay gave him one final truth.

“You’ve paraded stolen power—blood taken from countless lives you scorned. Now return what you were never entitled to.”

『Nooooooo!』

“Insignia.”

Clay placed his hand on the engraved name on the sword.

“Vampyr.”

Ssshhhhhh!

The balance of blood within Vlad collapsed—and his body dissolved, sucked into Syltanaro.

He thrashed, trying to pull himself back together, but all that remained was a melting mass—a pitiful puddle.

『This can’t… be…』

Just before vanishing completely, Vlad muttered through clenched teeth:

『You know nothing. You’ll regret this. Total annihilation would’ve been a mercy…』

He laughed—mad, broken.

『You still believe the one you rely on is a savior?』

“No.”

Clay answered with cool certainty.

“There is no such thing as a savior.”

CRACK!

With that, he thrust his sword into the last thing left of Vlad—his eye.

“There never will be.”

Vlad said nothing more.

His final remnants—every drop of blood—were consumed by Syltanaro and disappeared.

Silence fell.

“……”

People looked around at each other in dazed disbelief.

They had survived.

The catastrophe that had been moments from destroying their mining city… was gone.

“C-Clay…”

Someone’s voice cracked the silence.

“Clay… has returned.”

But what none of them realized was—

That return itself… was the real catastrophe.

(End of Chapter)

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