The Demon King Overrun by Heroes Novel - Chapter 97

Chapter 97
Chapter: 97

Chapter Title: To the Snowfield

—

To a demon, a hero is nothing short of lethal poison.

The unique dimensional interference these individuals command exists for the sole purpose of driving back invaders from beyond. It is a power crafted as the ultimate deterrent against demonic forces, who represent the primary threat to their realm. This fundamental truth is why demons treat heroes with such extreme caution, and why the human race positions these champions at the vanguard of every conflict involving a Demon Lord.

Conversely, this meant that the specific advantage of dimensional interference held little sway over opponents originating from the same world.

This didn’t imply that a hero’s innate gifts vanished in such matches. Even stripped of their specialized anti-demon edge, they still possessed extraordinary talent and an accelerated rate of development compared to ordinary men. Yet, there was no denying that when facing their own kind rather than demons, they lost their most significant strategic asset.

This explains why Pablo Varkat was unable to deliver a finishing blow to Austin Kroin quickly, and why the royal battalions found themselves helpless as they were systematically driven into retreat.

To be precise, Pablo had maintained a relentless assault on Austin from the opening move to the end, but he simply could not conclude the duel with speed. While he was locked in that stalemate, his coalition forces had been completely decimated.

“We cannot allow this to stand. We must hold our ground, seize those mines, and reclaim the resources that rightfully belong to our alliance.”

Pablo Varkat raised his voice, projecting his conviction toward the assembled nobles of the ten nations.

“I witnessed the mana stone deposit with my own eyes. Its existence is an absolute certainty. Driven by nothing but avarice for that wealth, they launched a treacherous ambush! This is a direct affront to the dignity of our entire coalition!”

“What course of action does Your Highness propose?”

“We take it back, by force if we must. How can we stand idly by while our sovereign territory is invaded and our resources are looted?”

“A righteous sentiment!”

A few envoys from certain nations nodded, swept up in his fervor. However, many others wore masks of deep apprehension.

It was an expected reaction.

While eleven nations had unified under the banner of the Southern Alliance, they hadn’t done so to forge a new empire. Their union was born of necessity—a desperate attempt to block the southern expansion of the empire and ensure their collective survival. The majority of these states valued stability over the chaos of war, particularly a war where the odds of success were murky at best.

Hesitation was only natural.

“I am well aware of your concerns. But to retreat now would be a grave mistake.”

It was equally natural for Pablo to push for conflict despite their reluctance. While his drive was fueled in part by the many slights the empire had dealt him, his motivations weren’t purely emotional.

“If that mana stone vein remains in their possession, if they are permitted to excavate and utilize those stones…”

“The empire will grow exponentially more powerful.”

“They will grow fat on wealth stolen from Southern Alliance soil. And that prosperity will eventually be forged into the very blades that will be pointed at our throats.”

Such was the power of mana stones.

They were the lifeblood of any industry involving the arcane. Natural stones were infinitely superior to synthetic ones in terms of purity and magical resonance. A single high-capacity mine could alter the destiny of a nation, bringing immense wealth and influence.

“Will you simply wait for the end? The empire is a predator, always searching for a chance to strike. Are you suggesting we trade the fear of a battle today for the certainty of our destruction tomorrow?”

“Furthermore!”

“Citizens of our alliance have already fallen to imperial steel. They bled out in the dirt because of that surprise attack! Who will answer for their lives?”

“If we refuse to seek justice, who will ever feel inspired to fight for this alliance again?”

The veins in Pablo’s neck stood out as he spoke with rising heat.

“The Pillerium Mountains act as a formidable natural barrier between us and the empire. They cannot hope to mobilize a massive army all the way to those remote mines.”

The terrain was infested with monsters; many soldiers would perish at the claws of beasts before they ever saw a human enemy. The empire was too calculating to make such a reckless blunder.

“We only need to recapture and fortify the site. The empire is incapable of committing a full-scale force to such a localized area.”

It wasn’t just the geography of the Pillerium holding them back. While the alliance focused solely on the empire, the empire was surrounded by countless adversaries on all borders.

“Most importantly, the empire is currently paralyzed by the instability in the north. If we don’t strike now, the chance to reclaim what is ours may never come again!”

“Ugh…”

Low groans of conflict echoed through the hall. Logically, they knew the prince spoke the truth. Yet, declaring war on the empire was a heavy burden to bear. They understood that retreat was no longer an option, but the shadow of defeat loomed larger than the hope of victory.

One nobleman raised his hand.

“And if the mission fails? If the empire decides to launch a total invasion in response?”

“Then…”

Pablo spoke with absolute resolve.

“We do not yield. Surrendering the mine is a death sentence for the alliance anyway. But if we win, we can finally end our long history of being stepped on by the empire. We must take it, regardless of the price.”

“He is right!”

“How much longer must we bow before them?!”

“If a decision is this difficult, let us resolve it in the manner of our alliance.”

“…Very well.”

“In three days’ time, at the kings’ banquet, we shall finalize our path through the traditional process.”

The banquet was the forum where the eleven monarchs of the alliance gathered to debate and determine their collective future. Decisions were finalized through a simple majority vote.

Three days later, the results were in. With ten votes in favor and only one against, the military operation to retake the mana stone mines was officially sanctioned.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

“Great Demon King! We beg for your assistance!”

A single report completely shattered Berge’s plans to sit back and enjoy the spectacle of the south clashing with the empire.

“Our forces were decimated. Gillian Eint has lost his right arm, the northern tribes have been slaughtered in massive numbers, and the White Eagles are scattered across the frozen wastes—no one knows who is still alive!”

…What in the world is happening?

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

News traveled with frightening speed.

Berge left Roger and the elven contingent at the borders of the Southern Alliance without returning to the tower, striking out for the north alongside Ernyan.

After traversing dozens of teleportation circles, as the burning heat of the south faded into a biting chill, rumors of the northern snowfields began to reach them.

“They say another barbarian clan was wiped out today.”

“Gods, that’s the fifth one already.”

“What about the White Eagles? I thought the Red Hawks went to back them up?”

“Nothing but silence. An imperial scouting party found signs of a massive struggle, but not a single survivor. At least they haven’t found the bodies of Hillun Kagil or Gillian Eint yet…”

“Why have the Demon Kings suddenly become so aggressive? They must have lost their minds…”

“A storm is brewing, mark my words.”

“Did you hear? They say Gillian Eint actually tried to storm the Tower of Extreme Cold or something similar…”

The snowfields were the only topic of conversation. Berge carefully filtered through the noise to find the consistent facts.

The monsters of the frozen north had suddenly become hyper-active. The northern tribes were facing annihilation due to these incursions. The White Eagles and Red Hawks had united to defend them. And then, they had vanished.

“There are whispers that a Demon King has directly interfered,” Ernyan murmured softly.

“I’m hearing the same thing,” Berge replied.

They were sitting in a raucous tavern, the kind of place where rumors flowed as freely as the ale.

“What’s the plan?”

“First, I need to get a clear picture of what went down.”

Did any of this actually make sense? Berge couldn’t wrap his head around it. Reina Sordain was undoubtedly powerful, but Hillun Kagil and Gillian Eint were legendary figures. Furthermore, Hillun had significantly increased his strength by literally consuming two other Demon Kings. Berge hadn’t sent Hillun to the north just to adjust his attitude if there was a genuine risk of him getting killed.

‘Did Jason get involved?’

Or was Reina significantly more powerful than he had estimated? He wasn’t sure. To be honest, his knowledge of the various Demon Kings was still incomplete. Before his regression, he’d had almost no contact with them; in this life, he was only just beginning to learn their true capabilities.

‘Reina Sordain is a veteran.’

She was a graduate of the Demon King Academy and had survived decades in the world of Aren. It would be more surprising if she were weak. However, unless someone was foolish enough to charge all the way to the top of her tower, they shouldn’t have encountered her directly. And the Hillun he knew was obsessed with glory, but he wasn’t an idiot.

That made the outcome even more baffling. How did it end like this?

*Tap, tap.*

Ernyan nudged Berge’s shoulder.

“Lord Fail.”

“What is it?”

“Those merchants over there are saying the imperial military is mobilizing for an expedition into the snowfields.”

“…!”

“Listen closely.”

Berge focused his hearing on the two merchants unloading heavy crates nearby.

“…Is it true? The Northern Army is actually moving into the wastes?”

“That’s what they’re saying.”

“Seriously? They’ve ignored those tribes for years.”

“There’s a limit to how much they can ignore. Five tribes are gone. That’s too much.”

“They’re just northern savages, aren’t they?”

“Savages or not, they technically fall under imperial protection. And they’re a necessary buffer.”

“I suppose. They’re a foul lot, but they take the brunt of the monster attacks so the empire doesn’t have to.”

The northern tribes lived under the shadow of the empire but refused to fully integrate. By living in the harsh snowfields and maintaining their independence, they inadvertently served as a shield against the monsters that would otherwise pour into imperial lands. The empire allowed them to exist, keeping them just fragmented enough so they could never unite into a threat.

“Who is in command?”

“Count Chernian himself.”

“Good heavens.”

That was a name Berge didn’t recognize. He leaned toward Ernyan.

“Who is Count Chernian?”

“The Border Count responsible for protecting the northern frontier from the snowfield threats. He’s a knight in his fifties, considered one of the top ten warriors in the empire. His personal unit, the White Frost Knights, are nicknamed the ‘Blizzard of the North.'”

“Got it.”

Berge found himself appreciating Ernyan’s presence more and more. She was like a living encyclopedia of political and military facts. Being royalty meant she knew the profiles of every major noble by heart.

“If a powerhouse like that is handling it, maybe I don’t need to get involved? My presence might just make things messy.”

Getting tangled up with the official imperial army rarely led to a quiet life.

“Under normal circumstances, I’d agree,” Ernyan said.

“But?”

“Hillun is not someone who is easily defeated.”

“Damn it… why do I have to keep cleaning up after these heroes…”

A man who had devoured two Demon Kings was now reduced to this embarrassing state. It irritated Berge, but he couldn’t afford to let Hillun die.

“But for both of them to suffer such a total defeat? It’s baffling. What could have happened?”

In a vacuum, a fight between a hero and a Demon King usually favored the former—especially for famous stars. Most Demon Kings followed a predictable doctrine, and Reina wasn’t known for leaving the peak of her tower.

So how did they lose so badly?

‘They do enter the tower, obviously.’

In his past life, the conflict between the White Eagles and Reina was a war of attrition. They would gather the tribes and scale the tower, repeatedly clearing out the monsters on the lower floors before retreating. Eventually, this would drain the tower’s resources. Magical energy was finite; losing minions for no gain would eventually weaken the Demon King’s ability to defend the summit.

Under that pressure, a Demon King would be forced to summon more creatures. The heroes would then return, hunt the fresh targets for experience and loot, and avoid the final boss until the tower was hollowed out. It was a vicious cycle that turned a terrifying fortress into a training ground.

But that strategy relied on one thing: the Demon King doing nothing to change the status quo.

Ironically, most of them did nothing. It was the standard “boss” behavior. They failed to notice their foundations crumbling until it was far too late.

In the original timeline, Reina had been pushed into a corner, eventually relying on high-level fiends provided by Jason to survive. But this time was different. She had been warned of their plans by Berge and had time to prepare.

To understand why Hillun and Gillian failed, Berge needed to know what she had done.

‘Reina wouldn’t have come out herself. So she must have struck using her subordinates and the local monsters…’

He wasn’t sure of the exact tribal population, but there were roughly dozens of clans. The large ones had thousands of members, the small ones hundreds. Even if not all of them followed Gillian, he still commanded thousands of seasoned warriors. Combine that with the White Eagles, the Red Hawks, and a powerhouse like Hillun…

‘To wipe them out completely? Even Reina, who has more minions than most, shouldn’t have been able to…’

Unless the entire snowfield had truly become her personal hunting ground.

“We’ll get our answers once we link up with Granada.”

“I’m just glad he’s safe.”

“Yeah.”

Granada had been able to send word because he’d escaped Reina’s reach and survived the trek back. Unlike the others who were missing, his clever choice of escape route had brought him back to imperial territory. He was currently waiting for Berge and Ernyan in a fortified city on the edge of the wastes.

“He mentioned the Red Hawks were different this time. That things were worse.”

At least there was that. Without his firsthand account, Berge was flying blind.

Berge and Ernyan finished their meal and pushed further north. The tension in the air was palpable as they approached the conflict zone. A few days later, they reached the northern fortress and found Granada.

“Give it to me straight. What happened?”

“Right before we reached the tower, the gates swung open on their own. Legions of demons and fiends flooded out, and thousands of monsters slammed into us from every direction, as if they had been lying in wait.”

“…How many demons?”

Granada’s description pointed toward one conclusion.

‘She went all-in?’

Reina Sordain really played all her cards? But something didn’t add up.

“Members of the Red Hawks and White Eagles have been limping back for days now. Even barbarians are showing up at the imperial gates seeking refuge.”

“There are more survivors than I thought?”

“Yes. Quite a lot, actually, considering the scale of the battle.”

Granada seemed suspicious of the high survival rate. But to Berge, it was perfectly logical.

“They hit them hard to break their spirit, but Reina is still Reina.”

Total genocide would bring the full weight of the empire and neighboring kingdoms down on her head. Reina was a perfectionist. She wasn’t ready to challenge the empire yet, so she was likely avoiding unnecessary slaughter to keep the heat at a manageable level.

That was good news.

“Then Hillun Kagil should be showing up soon.”

Berge let out a sigh of relief. It felt like an anticlimax after their frantic journey, but he’d take it.

“Well…”

“What now?”

“I’ve spoken to every person who made it back. Not one of them has seen Hillun.”

“He probably just got turned around in the storm.”

“I hope so…”

Granada looked uneasy. Berge shot him a sharp look, annoyed by the pessimistic tone.

“Don’t go looking for trouble where there isn’t any.”

“…Understood.”

‘…Maybe I should reach out to Reina and pretend I’m just checking in on things?’

Nothing beat getting the story straight from the source.