The Demon King Overrun by Heroes Novel - Chapter 128

Chapter 128
## Chapter 128: Red Blade

“Curse it all.”

Daphne Philian cleared the slush from her mouth with a bitter spit.

The air was thick with a never-ending chorus of shrieks and guttural howls. A heavy, iron-like scent of blood hung in the freezing air, sharp enough to steal the sensation from her nose.

To her relief, the Imperial knights had managed to pull themselves together. They had reorganized their lines and were pushing back with a disciplined counter-offensive, while the Kingdom’s scouts darted through the drifts to repel the encroaching beasts.

Bit by bit, the coalition was finding its rhythm again.

Yet, despite the stabilizing front, Daphne’s mind remained a whirlwind of uncertainty.

‘The Four Heavenly Kings…’

The title was familiar to her, but only as a relic of a distant age. It belonged to an era when the Demon King was a nebulous myth, a name whispered in ghost stories born of human dread. They were the stuff of nursery rhymes and stage plays.

In the modern day, even a toddler understood that the Demon King didn’t employ subordinates with such theatrical, old-fashioned monikers.

And yet, here they were, standing in the flesh.

‘That woman was formidable.’

The title of Dark Spirit Sorceress sounded like a piece of cheap fiction, but her martial and magical prowess was terrifyingly real.

The snowstorm she had called forth had been absolute, consuming the landscape. The rain of fire that accompanied the frost had shattered their defensive ice structures and torn the reconnaissance unit’s formation to ribbons.

‘What kind of sorcery was that? They functioned like artillery batteries.’

It seemed impossible for the Demon King to possess mana cannons. However, through the chaos of the sliding snow and the crystalline barriers, she hadn’t been able to get a clear look.

Daphne notched a fresh arrow. With a release of mana, the projectile struck true, burrowing into the chest of a lunging troll.

She fired three more times in a blurred sequence, decapitating the creature and shredding its torso to prevent its rapid healing from taking hold.

‘There’s no end to these monsters.’

Under normal circumstances, this would be manageable. But the current theater of war was a literal deathtrap—a masterpiece of environmental manipulation by the Demon King.

‘This was orchestrated. A calculated series of strikes meant to annihilate us.’

The sequence from the snow-slide to the magical bombardment and the subsequent monster rush had been perfectly timed.

The alliance was powerful, certainly. She didn’t doubt their resilience. But the price of victory would be astronomical, and the realization that the Demon King had engineered this meat grinder made her grit her teeth in fury.

‘The Demon King’s tactical mind…’

Suddenly, a ripple in the mana caught her attention. It was a foul, corrupted energy, completely foreign to the natural world.

She followed the trail. There she saw her—the masked Dark Spirit Sorceress. Standing beside her was a man with hair as black as midnight.

‘A demonic entity…?’

His features struck a chord of recognition. He looked like the individual from their previous trek up the Erjest Mountains—the one who had managed to slip past even her heightened intuition.

‘That face…’

He bore a striking resemblance to Fayle, though the aura he projected was entirely different.

‘They’ve left themselves open.’

Seeing a window of opportunity, she suppressed her presence entirely. She drew her bow back to the limit, pouring mana into the tip for a devastating kinetic release.

A streak of light tore through the air.

*Krunch—*

The shot closed the gap to the Dark Spirit Sorceress in a heartbeat. Just as Daphne expected the impact, a hand reached out and intercepted it.

‘Such raw power…!’

She didn’t stop, loosing a rapid-fire succession of glowing arrows. Every shot was aimed perfectly, yet every single one was batted away.

Fountains of black fire erupted, seemingly without end.

‘A Flame Demon. There’s no doubt.’

And likely one of the highest order.

‘He has to fall here. We can’t let him retreat.’

She surveyed the chaos. While the avalanche had left them reeling, Hillun Kagil and the elite core of the alliance were living up to their legends, holding the line with grim determination.

‘Those two are the commanders. If they fall, the horde falls apart.’

Daphne sprinted toward the high ground. But then, the low moan of a war horn sounded once more.

A cold shiver of intuition raced down her spine.

*Kroooaaarrr—*

A deafening bellow shook the mountain as a massive, orcish demon mounted on a giant wolf crashed into the fray. Behind him followed hundreds of Frost Orcs.

“…Merciful gods.”

Daphne bit her lip hard and raised her bow, sending a bolt of light toward the lead monster.

—

“Hah… hah…!”

Daphne’s breath came in jagged, white clouds.

The demon leader had been an ordeal. His technique was unrefined, but his strength was overwhelming, and his massive frame moved with a predatory grace that defied his size.

On his own, she could have finished him, but the Frost Orcs had been relentless, throwing themselves into her path with suicidal fervor.

The ground was now a carpet of dozens of orc corpses.

The skirmish had been grueling, and her body was mapped with fresh injuries. However, the alliance had successfully held the perimeter, forcing the demon to retreat on his mount.

“Are you holding up?”

“…I am. How about you, Hillun?”

“I’ll survive.”

The scene was a charnel house. The pristine snow was now a gruesome shade of crimson, littered with the fallen.

The coalition had ascended the slopes with pride and confidence, only to be butchered by the Demon King’s foresight.

Still, a victory was a victory, and tired cheers of relief began to rise from the survivors.

“Get the horses out of the drifts!”

“Prioritize the wounded! We need to move!”

“Collect our dead!”

The celebration was short-lived as the soldiers immediately began the grim work of clearing the field. Daphne used her extrasensory perception to locate heartbeats muffled by the snow.

“Start digging here, here, and over there.”

“Understood, ma’am!”

Daphne began pulling knights from the snow herself. Then—

As she used her mana to soften a patch of ice, a hand shot out from the frozen earth and clamped onto her ankle.

“…Lady Daphne.”

A face broke through the surface, followed by a battered body. A knight, his face drained of color, looked up at her.

Daphne recognized him immediately—he was part of the Third Prince’s personal retinue.

‘…Why would a royal guard be buried out here?’

The avalanche might have done it, but a heavy sense of dread began to settle in her stomach.

“…Help… we have to go after him.”

“…You don’t mean the Prince?”

“Yes!”

The knight’s desperate cry was echoed by frantic shouting from further across the field.

“Lady Daphne! Disaster has struck!”

“His Highness the Prince is missing!”

The guard knight’s voice trembled as he confirmed the nightmare.

“The demons… they’ve taken the Prince and Sir Kawol!”

“…!”

—

The last thing Martin remembered was the desperate wall of steel formed by his guards and the shimmering barriers of the Platinum Shield mages. Then, the demon had simply walked through it all.

The hand that had seized him by the neck had felt like an iron vice.

‘Abducted…?’

He had set out to locate the tower and liberate Kaede, only to find himself a prisoner.

The inherent fear of being taken by the Demon King was currently being drowned out by the sheer lunacy of the situation. It was so absurd he couldn’t even find the energy to laugh.

He was a prince of the Empire. He had known the risks of entering the Demon King’s lands. He had surrounded himself with the finest mages and the most elite warriors the crown could offer. And yet, here he was.

‘Where have they taken me?’

The cold bit into his back. He looked up at the open sky.

He was in a shallow depression in the ground. He managed to scramble out, finding himself in a secluded field of white.

“You…!”

Standing there was the woman known as the Dark Spirit Sorceress.

“A pleasure to see you, Prince of the Empire. Allow me to introduce myself properly: I am the Dark Spirit Sorceress, one of the Four Heavenly Kings who serve His Majesty the Demon King.”

She offered a polite bow.

It was the same eerie courtesy she had shown before.

“…What is the meaning of this kidnapping?”

Martin struggled to maintain his composure. Why wasn’t he at the tower? Why was he standing here having a conversation with this sorceress? The logic of it escaped him.

“You’re in quite a rush. They say that haste is the enemy of progress.”

“I demand to know why I was taken. Do you honestly believe the Empire will let this stand?”

“Ensuring the Empire does nothing is precisely what we are here for.”

“We?”

It was only then that Martin realized there was a second figure. Another woman, masked and silent.

“Meet my colleague. Another who serves at the right hand of the Demon King as one of the Four Heavenly Kings: the Dark Knight.”

“Dark Knight?”

Unlike the sorceress in her flowing robes, this woman was encased in midnight-black plate armor. The mask she wore in place of a standard helm was strange, but the demonic energy radiating from her was unmistakable.

Their gazes locked.

“……”

“…You.”

There was something hauntingly familiar about her.

The long, golden hair that cascaded down to her waist.

The eyes, the color of a deep forest lake.

The unmistakable aura of nobility.

“I am the Dark Knight, a member of the Four Heavenly Kings in service to the Demon King.”

And then there was the slight tremor in her voice.

It was impossible.

His sister would never pledge herself to the Demon King.

“I have brought you here to present a certain path forward.”

His brain screamed in denial, but his heart began to race.

“…Kaede?”

The name felt heavy in the air. Even after saying it, the reality didn’t seem to fit.

His missing sister, a princess of the realm, working for the Great Enemy…?

“…Yes, brother. You knew it was me instantly.”

The Dark Knight reached up and removed her mask. The face of his younger sister, unchanged and familiar, looked back at him.

“…Is it truly you, Kaede?”

“It is. Kaede Jespain, Ninth Princess of the Empire, stands before her brother.”

In that heartbeat.

*Shing—*

Kaede unsheathed her blade. She walked toward him with measured steps and placed the cold edge of the sword against Martin’s throat.

“But I am also the Dark Knight, loyal to the Flame Demon King.”

“…What? You’ve actually become a servant to that monster? You, a daughter of the Empire?”

“I have. But I am not alone in this.”

Because.

“You will be serving the Flame Demon King at my side, brother.”

“…What?”

“Brother.”

This is for your sake.

So.

“I need you to place your absolute faith in me.”

I cannot bear to lose you.

The Dark Knight’s eyes were filled with an unwavering resolve.

—

By the time Berge reached the clearing where the royal siblings were gathered, the air was thick with their exchange.

Ernyan was off in a corner, idly tracing patterns in the snow to pass the time. She looked up as he approached.

“How long have they been at it?”

“Going on half an hour. I was starting to die of boredom over here.”

“Boredom is a good sign.”

It indicated that the negotiation was being taken seriously.

A topic this sensitive would never result in a quick agreement, and a swift ending usually meant a total breakdown.

“What’s the status of the alliance?”

“They’ve realized their prince is gone. They’re scouring the mountain, but they won’t find this place.”

“Did I meet your expectations?”

“You did well.”

Ernyan had served as the perfect distraction, allowing him to orchestrate the monster movements with precision.

Her massive frost wave had been the killing blow for their momentum.

While they might have succeeded without her, it wouldn’t have been this clean. Her contribution was vital.

“Then I’d like my compensation.”

“What is it you want?”

“You gave Lavinia those scales, didn’t you?”

“What are you asking for?”

“Can I decide that later?”

She was playing that card again.

“Fine. As long as the request isn’t absurd.”

Unlike Kaede or Elena, Ernyan wasn’t bound to him by an oath of service. Their relationship was built on a foundation of mutual benefit, and her help had been invaluable.

He was perfectly willing to fulfill a reasonable desire.

“Lord Berge.”

Kaede called out to him.

“The talk has concluded.”

“And the verdict?”

Berge walked toward the group. Kaede gave a silent, respectful nod, while Martin met him with a piercing glare.

“If the terms are right, I am prepared to enter into a partnership with the Demon King.”

“A partnership?”

Not an oath of fealty?

“I am a Prince of the Empire. My ambition is to sit upon the throne as its sole ruler. The Emperor of the world’s most powerful nation cannot be a mere servant to the Demon King.”

“If you refuse my terms, you will never see that throne.”

“Even if I fail, I remain a prince. I would rather die than see the Empire reduced to a puppet state of the Demon King.”

“Then die.”

Berge released a wave of pure murderous intent.

“Your Majesty!”

“I allowed Kaede to speak for you—not as a formal offer, but as an act of clemency. Because your sister pleaded for your life.”

And yet, Martin was still pushing his luck.

“Kill me, and the full weight of the Empire will crush you.”

“The Empire does not frighten me.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be standing here making offers.”

“I told you—”

It was because of Kaede.

The atmospheric pressure became heavy, suffocating. Despite the air being squeezed from his lungs, Martin snarled back through clenched teeth.

“Lies! No Demon King alters his plans for a captive princess!”

“I care nothing for princesses, but I do honor the requests of my subordinate, the Dark Knight.”

“Even if that’s true, you wouldn’t do it if there was no gain for you.”

“Of course. But it’s not as you imagine. It’s simply a choice between the difficult path and the convenient one.”

“Turning me into your servant is merely ‘convenient’?”

“Yes. But since you’ve walked away from that option, the point is moot.”

Which left only death.

*Whoosh—*

Tongues of black fire flickered into existence.

The flames surged forward, enveloping Martin. A scream of pure agony erupted from him as the dark heat took hold.

*Kaaaahhh—*

A harrowing cry echoed through the clearing. He collapsed into the snow, thrashing as the flames refused to be extinguished by the cold.

“Your Majesty, please!”

“Stay back.”

Kaede bit her lip until it bled. She wanted to rush to her brother’s side, but she was frozen by Berge’s command.

Finally, Berge made a small gesture. The fire vanished instantly.

Martin lay there, his hair scorched and his breath coming in ragged gulps. His eyes were wide, showing only the whites in a state of shock.

“That was a warning. There won’t be another. Make your choice.”

“…An emperor… cannot be a lackey.”

He was still sticking to his guns. It was an impressive display of stubbornness. If Berge were an Imperial officer, he might have respected it.

“However…”

“However?”

“I have another proposal.”

“Speak.”

“I will give you a hostage.”

“I already have Kaede.”

“Not Kaede. My older sister—I will deliver her to you.”

Martin was referring to the woman he called “elder sister.”

“The First Princess?”

“Yes. I will make sure her capture is seamless.”

“Humans truly have a talent for gift-wrapping their betrayals.”

Berge reached out and hoisted Martin up by the throat. The prince dangled, legs kicking weakly.

“You want me to remove your political rivals and call it a hostage exchange?”

Who do you think you’re dealing with?

“Th-then, the relic! A token of absolute trust!”

“A relic?”

“The Imperial Sovereign Sword! Without it, no one can claim the throne or prove their legitimacy after the passing of the previous Emperor!”

A blade that served as the very foundation of Imperial rule.

If such a thing existed, it was worth far more than any hostage.

Berge eased his grip slightly.

“You won’t serve me, but you’ll hand over the crown jewel of your nation?”

“It is a symbol, at the end of the day. Symbols are less important than people. But without it, any rival’s claim to the throne is crippled—it is the perfect guarantee of our cooperation.”

“And you can just hand it over?”

“I can provide the location. And some assistance.”

“It’s in the royal treasury, obviously.”

It was a predictable answer. The sword wouldn’t be left unguarded. The issue wasn’t finding it, but taking it.

Charging into the heart of the Empire would trigger a catastrophic war.

“I have the authority to enter the vault. I can lead you to the doors. The rest would be up to you—it’s a fair trade, isn’t it?”

“That depends on the weapon. If it’s just a decorative piece of metal…”

“Never! It is the Heatflame Sword, carved from the remains of a red dragon! The Red Dragon Sword, Barstein. A blade as crimson as the hottest fire…”

*Crunch—*

“Gah—why…!”

“What did you just say about the color?”

The sword.

Red?