I believe there are two types of people.
First, those who carefully plan before doing anything.
Second, those who adapt to the situation as it unfolds.
In my view, I was closer to the first. Whatever I did, I always laid out plans, crafted strategies, reviewed everything thoroughly, and only then moved forward, one step at a ti, tapping the stone bridge as I crossed it.
Maybe that was because I’d faced too many situations where failure simply wasn’t allowed—an obsession with always making the best choice had shaped that way.
Of course, there were plenty of tis when I had to abandon those carefully drawn plans and scrap everything on the spot.
Like now.
“Ever heard of the dark swordsman Andromalli? I’m pretty famous. Believe it or not, I’m a top-class rcenary.”
Human affairs—especially events involving crowds—always co with unpredictable variables and errors.
This tournant itself had been a variable, born from Ayra’s whims. Nothing that happened here, no matter how bizarre, should co as a surprise.
“......”
Still, this situation was serious.
Was it because the tournant had drawn participants from all walks of life under a ritocratic banner? I hadn’t expected soone this uncontrollable to have made it to the finals.
“So anyway, I heard the target I’m after is competing in this tournant. Supposedly skilled enough to reach the finals. They also said he has a hand-shaped burn mark on his ankle.”
The man kept rambling on about things I hadn’t even asked.
“Dark swordsman Andromalli.”
“Yeah, that’s . Heard of sowhere, haven’t you? More importantly, do you have a handprint-shaped mark on your ankle? Show .”
He asked confidently, like he was sure of it. But up until today, I’d never even heard his na. He carried himself with an odd hunger for recognition—like a narcissist showing off his fa.
The only thing I could determine in this mont was that this man was a psychopath—soone who wouldn’t hesitate to kill people or ruin an entire tournant just for personal interest or amusent.
Damn it.
Five finalists were already dead?
What kind of fucked-up ss is this?
There was no recovering now. This tournant was ruined.
And just yesterday, how many people had worked so hard to make this absurd, fairytale-like event happen?
The laborers who built the coliseum. The imp friends who reviewed every contestant’s application, sacrificing sleep. , tearing my hair out trying to co up with compelling event content.
All of that—turning to ash.
And if word got out that this long-promoted event had turned into a bloodbath, the 100,000 spectators packed into the coliseum could explode into violent chaos.
Worse, if Ayra—who had placed uncharacteristically high hopes on this tournant—found out, it was easy to imagine what could happen.
Those deed responsible for letting this disaster happen might be purged. That backlash could ripple outward, triggering the very revolution we’d tried so hard to prevent. The whole nation could burn.
If it ca to that, then all the efforts of those who helped —Elga, Mirnare, Stella—would have been in vain.
That thought made it impossible to forgive this man trampling all over my life and peace. This bastard had to fall. Here and now.
“Don’t wanna show your ankle? Fine. I’ll just kill you and check for myself.”
Swish.
I stretched my hand toward the bastard who kept flapping his mouth and instantly invoked the mana I’d been storing.
7th-tier.
“Abyss of the Underworld.”
KUUUUUNG—!
“Guh—!?”
Blood vessels bulged in the confident dark swordsman’s face. It was obvious how much force was crushing him.
KUUNG.
Still seated on the bench, Andromalli was slamd flat to the floor. Blood burst from both nostrils in two red jets.
“Uughghh, I can’t move a finger. What the hell is this...?”
He seed completely unable to grasp the situation. He was now being pressed under the rciless gravitational force of a 7th-tier grand spell—Abyss of the Underworld.
“GRAAAAH—!”
Crunch—snap—CRACK.
The sounds of benches, stone, and bones being crushed echoed hideously. It must’ve felt like being pressed beneath the fingers of a giant.
Unlike the spells I normally used for capture, this one was an unforgiving kill spell. But with a dangerous criminal like this on the loose, I had no choice but to use overwhelming force.
“Go rot in hell.”
As I gave him that light curse and increased the pressure—
“...Hell? We already ca from there. Do you even understand the depths of that na?”
CHRRRRR...
Chains coiled around his arm began to unravel. Then sothing sharp flew toward the back of my neck.
SHWEEEEEK—!
━GrrRRRrgh...!
A loud growl, and sothing wrapped around .
Turning my head, I saw a hook- or question mark-shaped blade embedded in my thick mana shield.
A surprise attack?
Now I understood how the other winners had been taken down. Dodging a strike like that from the blind spot would’ve been near impossible.
Swish swish.
Paper-spider Bael had sprung out of nowhere and climbed onto my shoulder. Without her, I might have taken so serious damage.
━Grrr...!
Bael snuggled into my chest, growling as if scolding . I nodded.
“Yeah, I let my guard down.”
I hadn’t expected him to counterattack while being crushed by a 7th-tier spell.
That final attack had been like a honeybee’s dying sting. The swordsman’s body now lay unmoving, incapable of speaking or moving. His neck must’ve been broken—his consciousness shattered.
Cardiac arrest. Total system shutdown.
The shock of having killed soone surged through my chest like wildfire. A psychological sprinkler called He deserved it anyway sprayed over it in defense.
If it weren’t for Bael absorbing my emotions—and 《Calm Thinking》 keeping steady—I’d be shaken.
“But wait... didn’t he say we?”
Swish.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I turned.
A pair of wide, shocked blue eyes stared back at .
“W-what is this?!”
The girl’s mouth gaped open as she scread at the grueso scene in the waiting room.
Wasn’t she Aslan of Orléans? I rembered she was the Group H finalist, aning her match had ended and she’d won within that short ti.
Problem was, she looked at and began to growl like a furious leopard.
“You—what the hell did you do!?”
Her face reminded so much of Elga that I felt both fondness and dread. If she was anything like Elga, I could guess how she’d react to this scene.
“You bastard, to do sothing like this! I knew from the mont you hid your face behind a mask that you were a ruthless villain!”
“I think you’re misunderstanding sothing. I didn’t do this.”
“Then who else is even here, huh?! Coward! You couldn’t fight fair and square so you stooped to cheap ambushes!”
SWOOSH.
The angry girl drew a long lance from thin air. A sleek, pointed weapon—more than fitting to be called a knight’s lance for horseback charges.
“I am Aslan, proxy lord ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) of Orléans!!! I will bring judgnt upon you!!!”
POP—!
With just a leap, Aslan rushed with the speed of an armored knight charging downhill on horseback.
BOOOOM—!
This must be how it feels when a missile flies straight at you. Thankfully, Bael’s reaction speed matched it.
—Mana Shield!
Ten layers of shields unfolded. Aslan’s charge was fierce, but she stopped after bursting through about seven layers—unable to break the last three.
At the sa ti, I exhaled in relief.
“Phew.”
Earlier, that crazy nymph had shredded my mana shield and made wonder if my defenses were trash—but no, it was just that guy who was weird. My defense was still solid.
“Coward! All these cheap tricks!”
As Aslan raged, I quickly stepped on her shadow.
6th-tier.
—Shadow Pinning.
A technique I’d modified from the Draco family’s shadow-binding spell. As long as I stood on her shadow, she couldn’t move.
“Wha—?! I—I can’t move?!”
To the stunned girl, I said,
“You’re Aslan, right? Listen to . There’s an explanation for all this.”
“Don’t make laugh! You’ve got pinned! What—what are you going to do to ?!”
“Aslan, if I wanted to kill you, I easily could. But I’m not going to. Because I’m not the psychotic maniac you think I am.”
“...Psycho what?”
Right. No way she’d know the word psychopath.
“Anyway, this wasn’t . That guy over there—Group A’s winner, dark swordsman Andromalli—he ambushed and killed them. I just stopped him. Believe it or not, that’s the truth.”
Just as I finished explaining—
I saw three or four guards sprinting down the hallway toward us.
━There’s a huge commotion over there!
━No word from the victors’ waiting room team either!
━Did a fight break out or sothing?
Staff reacting to the disturbance?
My eyes turned toward the bodies on the floor.
A brutal bloodbath. A mysterious masked contestant standing alone. A noble lady knight being held prisoner.
It wasn’t hard to guess what the guards would think at first glance.
I’d be the first to get blad. If the roles were reversed, I’d think the sa.
Goddamn it.
The situation was already beyond the point where plans ant anything.
━Hiooong...!
Yeah, I know. Now’s not the ti to freeze.
Andromalli had said “we,” like he had comrades. If there were more terrorists hiding sowhere in this tournant—or in the city of Sandora—they’d likely target this coliseum packed with people.
“Phew...”
Thanks to Calm Thinking, my mind began to cool.
The truth was, I already knew.
I’d been greedy, but this tournant had to be stopped.
Evacuating the people—protecting everyone’s safety—was now the only right course of action.
In my mind, I saw Elga. Her unborn child. Stella. Marmar. My imp friends. Mirna and Nare weren’t here—thankfully.
But Ayra would never allow the tournant to be canceled. She’d definitely ignore any suggestion to stop the event.
A normal thod wouldn’t work.
A normal thod...
Whether it was luck or misfortune, a single thod clearly surfaced in my mind.
━Hiooong...
“It’s fine. I’ve done this plenty. My Actor skill is already at level 10.”
“What are you mumbling about? And let go already!”
While Aslan flailed in panic, the guards arrived. Seeing the carnage, they drew their weapons and trained them on .
━What the hell happened here?!
━Surrender imdiately!
Voices. Yells. Glares like spilled paint across a canvas. The whole thing felt unreal.
Just a mont ago, I was planning to win the finals and fight Ayra in the final round.
I didn’t know how things got like this, but the plans I’d made were now ruined by soone else’s malevolent sche. All I had left was a cold, calculated fury.
I didn’t know what their goal was, but I’d make sure to destroy it. If I wanted to evacuate everyone from this coliseum, what did I need to do?
I already knew the answer.
Swish.
I grabbed the back of Aslan’s neck and pulled her in front of like a shield. The tension in the guards’ faces was instantly visible.
━W-what do you think you’re doing?!
━Taking a hostage?!
As they panicked, I slowly opened my mouth.
“You know, I’ve always hated this world.”
Primitive. Barbaric. Full of fools who set themselves on fire and jump into oil.
I’d wished for everything to just burn and end.
I drew that emotion to a boil and, with sincere conviction, confessed:
“I am the Demon King. Apex of magic. End of an era. Harbinger of the world’s doom. From now on, all that follows is judgnt. Take it as you will.”
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