The Demon King Overrun by Heroes Novel - Chapter 63

Chapter 63
## Chapter: 63

### Chapter Title: Hero of the Hildran Kingdom

—

The disturbance unfolded in soft ripples.

Personal guards hurried toward their masters, leaning in to deliver hushed reports. High-ranking officials, their faces draining of color, rushed to the balconies.

“Good heavens.”

“The side building…”

Deep obsidian embers climbed from a wing of the royal residence. It was a dense, suffocating surge of corrupt energy that left no doubt in the minds of those present.

────!

Then came the roar of concussions. An arcane alarm system, previously drowned out by the melodies and laughter of the celebration, began to shriek with desperate intensity.

“Extinguish the flames!”

“The palace has been breached by demons!”

“Protect the princess at all costs!”

Soldiers scrambled into formation. Amidst the chaos, the head steward stepped into the center of the grand hall.

“The festivities are concluded for this evening. Intruders have infiltrated the grounds. By command of the Crown, every guest must remain within this hall for their own security until the threat is neutralized.”

A chilling stillness gripped the nobility.

None were thick-headed enough to miss the underlying thread of suspicion masked as a safety precaution.

“…Hmph. So be it.”

“That foul aura… it is unmistakably the stench of the abyss…”

The atmosphere of the ballroom, which had been vibrant with joy, curdled into a thick, uncomfortable dread and a heavy, awkward quiet.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

“Identify him.”

“Berge Dayas. Known as the Demon King of Erjest.”

The culprit who seized the princess had announced himself as a practitioner of dark spirit arts. That detail alone wasn’t enough to pinpoint a specific monarch of the underworld.

However, the midnight fire consuming the palace annex provided the missing link.

“There is no doubt. It is the Demon King of Incinerating Flames.”

The signature matched the intelligence recently circulated by the Hero Guild. It was logical to assume a subordinate serving such a master would wield a fragment of that scorching power.

“Which one did he take?”

“Princess Elena…”

*Shatter—*

The sovereign slammed his goblet into the floor. The ceremonial robes he had been donning for the evening’s appearance were shredded in his fury.

“Elena has only been home for a handful of days.”

Not months, not weeks—merely a few sunrises. The public celebrations for her safe return were still in full swing, and the official banquet had barely commenced.

“And yet, that wretch treats the Hildran Kingdom like a playground.”

This wasn’t merely a spark; it was a full-scale demolition of his authority.

“The Hero Guild is clearly failing their mandate. Demon King of Incinerating Flames? This isn’t just deception; it is a total scorched-earth insult!”

To be toyed with so brazenly!

“I have tried to remain composed, holding my instincts in check because the season for war has not yet arrived. But Berge Dayas—that filth—is pushing me to the brink.”

His life’s work was to elevate Hildran above all other realms. He had sacrificed everything to reach that pinnacle. Now, in a single night, the prestige he had painstakingly built was being dragged through the mire.

“Put the Hero Guild under the thumb.”

Tracking a Demon King who had already secured a royal captive and vanished was a fool’s errand. Their ability to mask their presence was absolute—an unbreakable law recognized across the continent.

He couldn’t even initiate a search for the tower. The failure of Daphne Philiain meant that, for the moment, no strategic options remained outside of reckless gambling.

Though a tempest of rage swirled inside him, he remained a monarch first and a man second. The state took priority. He would not dwell on a single setback; he would pivot.

“File a formal grievance with the Hero Guild and demand an immediate accounting. Inform them that if their lack of results continues, I will be forced to commission a royal hero corps directly answerable to the throne.”

“As you command, Your Majesty.”

The knight knelt in respect. Nearby, the handmaidens shivered under the weight of the King’s murderous aura.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

The 13th Princess of the realm, Elena Hildran.

Her history with Berge reached back to his very first descent into this world. She was a princess the crown had discarded, deemed irrelevant due to her perceived frailty.

In the life before his return, he had relied on a tip from Ugard and tried to seize her then. However, he had blundered, taking the wrong princess from the line of succession. In the end, that mistake had paved the path to his current success.

But for his grander designs, more pieces were required. Securing the 13th Princess was a vital step. While Ernyan Hildran’s plea had weight, he would never have bothered with the girl if the 13th Princess he encountered in the Adamant Tower had truly been a lost cause.

On the 4th floor, the domain where Ernyan reigned as the master, Berge gently placed the 13th Princess onto a bed made of packed earth.

“It is exactly as I suspected.”

“Indeed. A total mana saturation.”

The World Tree’s child ritual was essentially a process of pumping massive amounts of energy into a vessel to fortify the frame. Consequently, the offspring of such magic were born with staggering mana reserves, which forced them toward one of three destinies.

The first: a body that adapts and thrives, like Ernyan.
The second: a body that cannot integrate the power, leading to physical degradation and the loss of magical potential—the fate of the 12 princes and 16 princesses officially recognized as Hildran royalty.
The third: those who perished before they could even draw breath.

However, Elena Hildran was an anomaly. She fit none of those categories. She was neither a triumph nor a total failure. Her physical form was too weak to contain the energy, yet it continued to drink in mana at an alarming rate. Her body was a vessel permanently overflowing with power it couldn’t sustain.

The only reason she hadn’t been torn apart by the internal pressure was a singular quirk of fate: her status as a hero. The dimensional distortion inherent to heroes acted as a dam, barely holding her physical collapse at bay.

“If she possessed even a modicum of physical durability, the King of Hildran would have never let her out of his sight.”

The overload was a product of her unique biological makeup. Without a single hour of training, she naturally attracted mana at a rate tens of times higher than a normal human. It was the ultimate double-edged sword of the World Tree’s child spell. She had the power everyone craved, but a body that was essentially a glass cage.

“You’ve done well to survive this long.”

“Mei’ar.”

A tiny spirit peeped out from the shadow of Elena’s neck. The bird-like entity hopped onto Ernyan’s outstretched hand.

“I gave it to her to act as a vent.”

The simplest way for Elena to stay alive was to bleed off her mana as quickly as it accumulated. But her constitution was so brittle it rejected standard magical discharge. Her output was capped at sustaining one minuscule, fragile spirit. That spirit had become her anchor to life.

“What do you think? Will your plan work, Demon King?”

“It will.”

But first, there were terms to settle.

“Elena Hildran. I trust Ernyan has explained the situation to you.”

“She has.”

“Then tell me: are you prepared to turn your back on your own kind for my sake?”

“Can I truly be taught to use magic?”

“I give you my word as a Demon King.”

“Then my sword and my soul belong to you. I am tired of the bedsheets. I am tired of closing my eyes and wondering if I will wake up.”

“Even though you are a hero?”

“There is no glory in a title that leaves you paralyzed. I have felt nothing but the weight of my own uselessness.”

“Ernyan Hildran.”

“I will see to her development personally.”

Berge folded his arms, observing the girl. Elena Hildran was an asset. She was a broken tool now, but with the right refinement, she could be a devastating weapon. A royal, a hero, and a natural mana magnet.

*‘Still, I cannot rely on words alone.’*

Ernyan had earned his trust through blood and steel. Elena had yet to prove herself.

“And if I were to place a restrictive substance within your mind?”

“What are the terms of this anchor?”

“It ensures you cannot betray me. Nothing more.”

“Do it. The alternative is a slow death, which I have already faced.”

“She has your stubborn streak,” Berge remarked with a dry chuckle. It felt as though Ernyan had found a mirror of herself.

“We share the same blood, after all.”

“And you are truly comfortable with me placing a leash on your sister?”

“It is better than a grave. To be honest, Mei’ar was reaching its limit. It couldn’t siphon the energy fast enough anymore.”

A few more years, and Elena would have been consumed from the inside out. The fact that she had lasted until his previous life’s end…

*‘That was Ugard’s doing.’*

“But will I really recover?”

“The change won’t be overnight. But you will learn the arts, and through them, you will temper your own vessel.”

“That is all I ask. What is my first task?”

“Nothing.”

“…?”

“You will simply reside on the lower floors and do absolutely nothing. That alone will cure your condition.”

Elena’s sickness was the result of a body pulling in more mana than the local environment could support. Even trying to spend it was impossible because she was too weak to channel it. But here, in the Demon King’s Tower? Where the atmospheric mana was so thin it was practically a vacuum?

Just existing here would cause her internal reserves to leak out, bringing her back to a state of equilibrium. Only then could she begin to build herself up.

“When your levels have dropped enough to let you walk without pain, your training begins.”

“…It’s really that simple?”

“Never second-guess a Demon King.”

“…I understand.”

Elena gave a small, uncertain nod.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

The air was filled with the rhythmic clicking of shutters.

Countless recording devices were aimed at Hillun’s face. This was the stage he craved. He soaked in the undivided attention of the press before carefully masking his expression. A single, perfect tear rolled down his cheek.

“I never dreamed such a tragedy would strike us.”

He spoke with a voice that wavered just enough to tug at the heartstrings of his audience.

“Hildran is my home. It is where I took my first breath. I have always worn my heritage as a badge of honor.”

He paused for effect.

“I wanted nothing more than for our kingdom to prosper. I treated every slight against our name as a personal wound.”

“I was the first to charge into the abyss to retrieve Crown Princess Ernyan. Even when I faced ridicule for failing, I risked everything to bring Elena Hildran home.”

And for her to be snatched away again so quickly… Hillun allowed his voice to break, bowing his head in apparent grief.

A journalist raised their hand.

“Does this imply the palace defenses were insufficient?”

“Not at all. The fault lies with me. If I had been more alert, if I had been stronger, this nightmare would have been avoided.”

“But surely—”

Hillun held up a hand, cutting the reporter off. He had no intention of letting the blame stick to the crown; he needed to be the martyr.

“I wish I could storm the Demon King’s fortress and bring her back this instant. It galls me that I cannot even find a footprint leading to his lair.”

“Do not call yourself incompetent! If the hero who has felled two Demon Kings is a failure, then there is no hope for any of us!”

“He’s right! Hillun Kagil is the only one truly fighting for the people!”

The commoners watching the broadcast began to cheer. Hillun fought back more “tears” and gave a humble bow of thanks.

“I am grateful for your kindness. But words will not return our princesses. They will not grant me the power to save them. However…”

His tone shifted, becoming deep and resonant.

“Hildran has given me everything. I cannot, and will not, allow this insult to stand.”

“As a son of this soil.”

“I, Hillun Kagil, standing as the shield for all Hildran’s heroes, make this vow.”

One day.

“One day, without fail.”

He dropped his voice to a steady, confident calm. It was the tone of a man people could trust.

“I will tear those princesses from the Demon King’s grasp.”

“And I will wash away the stain on Hildran’s honor.”

“That is my promise to you.”

As he finished, the crowd erupted like a breaking dam.

*Roar—!*

“Long live Hillun Kagil!”

“Our savior, Hillun!”

“Bring our princesses home!”

The very ground seemed to vibrate. Hillun felt a surge of pure adrenaline. The kingdom’s collective shame and fury were being forged into a weapon of pure adoration for him. He was drowning in the ecstasy of it.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

『Quite the performance. “One day,” you say?』

『Do you actually intend to follow through?』

“I never promised to kill him. And ‘one day’ is a very flexible timeline.”

『Pure deception. It’s hard to believe you’re supposed to be a hero.』

“I can play the part as long as it benefits me. Because of that little show, I am now the most beloved figure in the kingdom.”

『I’m sure the citizens would be thrilled to hear that.』

“They’re already thrilled. I have the entire nation in my pocket now.”

『Then you have my congratulations. I look forward to your ‘exploits.’』

“I appreciate that.”

『Has the Hero Guild reached out? Surely they want a ‘slayer of two Demon Kings’ at the central office.』

“I was so busy ‘saving’ Princess Elena that I forgot to mention it, but the invitation arrived this morning.”

『I see. So…』

“Yes. I’m moving up to headquarters. I’ll have even more resources to help the Demon King—well, you know.”

『You’re helping yourself, but I’ll take the support regardless.』

“Thank you.”

The Demon King and the hero shared a knowing look through the glowing surface of the communication tool.