The Demon King Overrun by Heroes Novel - Chapter 99

Chapter 99
## Chapter 99

### Chapter Title: Hillun Kagil Rescue Operation

—

Hillun Kagil had never lacked for self-assurance.

From the moment of his awakening as a hero, he viewed himself as a being of distinct importance. In a world where heroes were plucked by the thousands from the vast populations of the continent, Hillun stood apart due to his rare, multifaceted gifts.

His command over mana was exceptional, his grasp of magical theory profound. Combined with an innate understanding of aura and peak physical capabilities, he had forged himself into a premier magic swordsman, masterfully weaving lightning magic with blade techniques. While his rise hadn’t been instantaneous, his progression had been steady and undeniable.

His reputation, once restricted to the borders of the Hildean Kingdom, exploded across the land after he emerged as a survivor of the campaign against the Lust Demon King. From that point on, success seemed inevitable. Even his defeat at the hands of the Flame Demon King—a memory he preferred to bury—had eventually served as a stepping stone for further growth.

He had accumulated a legacy of triumphs: decapitating the Beast Demon King, earning the rank of Argan within the Hero Guild, and achieving the unprecedented feat of intercepting a princess’s abduction mid-attempt. He was no longer merely traveling a path; he was poised to take flight.

The expedition into the frozen wastes was supposed to be the final gust of wind beneath his wings.

‘Me… how could I…’

Hillun Kagil’s breath came in ragged, painful hitches.

With every step, his boots vanished into the thick snow. The howling storm had stripped away his orientation, leaving him in a world of blinding white. He shook his head to clear the frost from his lashes, only for the blizzard to coat them again seconds later.

Ahead, a dim shape flickered through the gale. Hillun dropped into a low crouch, pulling his body through the drifts with agonizing slowness. The pungent, rank odor of a creature reached him through the freezing air.

‘A Yeti.’

It was a common enough predator of the north. They were solitary hunters, meaning no pack was likely nearby. However, the scent of blood from a kill would act as a beacon. The minions of the Frost Demon King were already scouring these plains for him; a single combat would bring the entire hunt down on his head.

‘I have to bypass it.’

Engagement was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

Fortunately, the beast remained oblivious. Hillun masked his presence with practiced care, crawling in a wide, exhausting circle to avoid the creature’s notice.

‘Am I even traveling in the right direction?’

The pursuit had been relentless for an entire week. To find safety, he needed to reach the south. Yet, the constant pressure from demons, beasts, and monsters had forced him into a desperate zigzag that left him disoriented. His subspace pocket was still well-stocked with food, and his internal reserves of mana and stamina hadn’t bottomed out yet, but the psychological strain and the biting cold were beginning to fracture his resolve.

‘Where did the plan shatter?’

Everything had been proceeding according to his expectations until they reached the tower. But when those sealed doors swung open of their own accord, a nightmare was unleashed.

Two high-ranking demons had ambushed him immediately. He had dispatched them, only for three more to take their place. As he struggled against them, a fourth joined the fray. By the time he managed to claw his way out of the immediate pressure, the battle lines had collapsed. The Red Hawks were scattered to the winds. Gillian Aint had suffered the loss of an arm, and the White Heron was forced to support the wounded warrior as they attempted a desperate breakout.

Bitterly cursing his luck, Hillun had fled alongside Granada, the elf who had remained by his side. The fierce rearguard action by the White Heron had provided just enough of a gap for them to slip through, but the sheer volume of the pursuing horde had eventually forced Hillun and the elf to part ways.

‘I should have stayed with that elf.’

He had assumed the Demon King would be more interested in capturing or killing him—the greater prize—rather than the elf. He was wrong. The monsters and demonic entities pursued Hillun with a singular, obsessive focus, largely ignoring Granada.

The days following that separation were a blur of violence and exhaustion. He ran until his lungs burned, fought until his arms were leaden, and then ran again. There was no rest. The white canvas of the snow was constantly stained by the red lines of his own blood and the black ichor of his pursuers. Only the relative mercy of the blizzard, which occasionally hid him from sight, allowed him enough breath to keep moving.

‘What is my next move?’

He regretted dismissing Gillian Aint’s warnings. More so, he regretted not heeding the Demon King’s own words.

‘Did he realize the Frost Demon King had this many servants? That the entire waste was a web of her design?’

As a peer of the Demon Kings, he likely did. That was why he had tried to intervene.

‘Damn it all!’

A dark thought crossed his mind—perhaps the Demon King had anticipated this failure and was laughing in the shadows.

‘I will survive. I will return.’

His ambition wouldn’t allow him to perish here. He had not yet reached the pinnacle of heroism he envisioned.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him shuddered.

Rumble—

The falling flakes vibrated. Hillun went still, holding his breath as he peered through the haze. Through the shifting wall of white, massive shadows began to solidify.

Grrr—

Ice drakes and ice trolls. These were natural enemies that would normally tear each other apart, yet here they were, moving in a synchronized, wide sweep across the tundra. Their cooperation was the unmistakable mark of the Demon King’s influence.

Hillun mapped their trajectory. They were headed straight for him. Could he hide?

No. If he stood to run, he’d be spotted; if he crawled, they would overlap his position before he cleared the area.

Could he fight?

He was still Hillun Kagil. Even in this state, he could slaughter a few dozen monsters. But the noise and the blood would be a dinner bell for every horror within five miles.

‘Curse it!’

Hillun began to burrow. The drifts here were deep and soft. He dug himself into a makeshift snow grave, pulling the powder over his head just as the rhythmic thumping of heavy footsteps reached him. The monsters were passing directly over his hiding spot.

He remained motionless, a corpse of ice. Only when the vibrations faded into the distance did he allow himself a shallow exhale of relief.

“…Did I slip past?”

“Is that what you believe?”

“…!”

A voice, cold enough to freeze the blood in his veins, whispered directly into his ear. Hillun’s eyes snapped open. He surged his mana, manifesting a burst of lightning as he vaulted from the snow.

There was no one there.

“Look up.”

The presence was above him. It radiated a suffocating, dense demonic energy.

‘A high-ranking demon.’

Hillun was stunned. How had he missed such a powerful entity approaching? He could make excuses—his focus on the trolls, the way his own suppressed aura dulled his senses—but they were meaningless now.

Hillun stood his ground as the demon landed.

“I am Armand, of the Frost Demons.”

The entity looked strikingly human, save for skin the color of a winter moon. But the pressure he exerted was purely monstrous.

“You are Hillun Kagil, I presume?” Armand said, idly smoothing his beard.

‘Can I take him?’ Hillun wondered. This wasn’t like the ones at the tower. Despite his small stature, the demon’s aura was immense. He was stronger than any demonic foe Hillun had faced, short of the Kings themselves.

Hillun gripped his hilt, his mana humming as lightning began to coat the steel.

“Ready?”

“You seem far too confident,” Hillun spat. “Arrogance like that usually leads to a shallow grave.”

“Perhaps,” Armand replied.

As Hillun stopped hiding his presence, his senses suddenly flared. He realized there weren’t just a few monsters nearby—there were hundreds.

“But not today,” Armand smiled, ice spears manifesting in the air around him with sharp cracks. “I didn’t come alone.”

“So you have no intention of letting me walk away?”

“They described you as polite. Are you maintaining your manners even now?”

“You didn’t answer me.”

“Would you release an assassin sent to take your life?”

“I never came here to kill anyone.”

“That is the most irritating part. A lowly human, wandering where he doesn’t belong.”

“You’ve been herding me this whole time, haven’t you?”

“Her Majesty is a gracious ruler. Even to an insect that crawls into her parlor, she offers a certain level of hospitality.”

“So she’s going to let me live?”

“Many of your kind will be permitted to leave these lands unharmed. Everyone—except you.”

“…Why just me?”

A sickening thought took root. Had Demon King Berge betrayed him?

‘No, that’s impossible.’

Hillun was the Argan of the Hero Guild, the man who had brought down two Demon Kings. To lose him would be a catastrophic blow to Berge’s own plans for the continent.

‘He wouldn’t discard me.’

“What are you contemplating so deeply?” Armand asked.

“Why me?” Hillun repeated.

“Because you are the one who slew two of our Kings.”

“So she wants to snuff me out before I become a true threat?”

“You should be flattered. Her Majesty specifically ordered me to crush your potential with my own hands.”

“Don’t give me that crap.”

“They say a person’s true face is revealed in a corner. You’re just as foul-mouthed as the rest.”

“Should I be bowing in gratitude for this ‘honor’?”

Even as he traded barbs, Hillun’s mind was working at a fever pitch. The monsters were closing the circle. This demon was merely the anchor, holding him in place until the trap was shut. There were no clear gaps.

But he had to move. He refused to die here. He had too much left to achieve. He gripped his sword with both hands.

“Kneel,” Armand commanded. “A human hero pleading for his life at the feet of Her Majesty… it will be a grand performance. Shall we begin?”

“Go to hell.”

A flash of blue light ignited. Lightning tore through the snowy haze, a lethal line aimed at Armand’s neck. Ice crystals materialized instantly, intercepting the strike.

Craaaack—

The explosion of ice sent shards flying like arrows. The resulting shockwave cleared a circle in the blizzard. Hillun didn’t wait; he used the momentum to propel himself into the air, venting mana from his feet as a thruster.

He unleashed a massive wave of azure electricity toward the Frost Demon, then immediately turned and sprinted in the opposite direction, ignoring the result of his attack.

The horde met him. Yetis, trolls, drakes, and twisted demonic beasts blocked his path. Some were familiar, others were nightmares he had never seen.

It wasn’t a matter of whether he could win. He simply had to survive.

Zzzzap—

He funneled the Demon King’s borrowed power into his own aura, amplifying his presence into a terrifying pressure. His blade became a blur, carving a path through the storm and painting the snow in fresh gore.

Rawr—

An ice drake unleashed a blast of freezing mist. A massive demonic beast swung a fist the size of a boulder. Hillun parried, dodged, and butchered. The air was a cacophony of dying screams and beastly roars. He fought in a trance, his blade an extension of his will to live.

He burst through the primary line, laughing breathlessly as he tasted freedom.

“Didn’t I mention it?”

Armand’s voice drifted from directly behind him.

“I am not alone.”

“Did you bring every demon from the tower?” Hillun gasped.

“Not all. But more than enough for a tired hero.”

“You’re overestimating my worth.”

“I’d rather do that than underestimate you and watch you slip away.”

Hillun bit his lip until it bled. Demons blocked his front; a high-ranking executioner stood at his back. To engage one was to invite a lethal strike from the other.

‘I can’t die. Not like this.’

He had survived the clutches of a Demon King. He hadn’t come this far to end up as frozen meat in a ditch.

He began the incantations. He synchronized his mana heart with his aura core. Every circuit in his body flared to life. His blood began to simmer as the energy reached critical levels.

Rumble—

His lightning-wreathed blade called down a localized thunderclap. The snow erupted. Blue bolts incinerated the falling flakes. The demons countered, their dark-red auras clashing against his light.

Boom—

The impact sent a tremor through the earth. The lesser demons were blown back, but Hillun was forced to give ground.

An ice spear hissed toward his spine. The lightning shield surrounding him dampened the chill, and he spun at the last second to deflect the point.

Clang—

The spear didn’t fall; it curved mid-air like a living serpent, continuing its pursuit. The demons surged back in.

“In any other land, you might have stood a chance,” Armand noted.

But here, the blizzard was an extension of the demon’s will. The cold that drained Hillun’s life served only to bolster Armand’s strength.

Slash—

A blade of ice caught Hillun’s shoulder. Blood sprayed, freezing before it hit the ground. He grabbed a dying demon and hurled the corpse at the next attacker. The bodies were stacking up around him.

“Just a minor wound? Do you really think you can kill me at this rate?” Hillun mocked, though his breath was shallow.

“Your reputation as a King-slayer is well-earned,” Armand admitted. “But don’t think your stoic face hides the fact that you’re burning through your final reserves.”

Armand waved a hand. Thousands of ice needles formed in the air, camouflaged by the blizzard. They shredded Hillun’s cloak and skin. He fought back, but the wounds were becoming too numerous to count.

The monsters charged again.

“Cough…!”

Hillun spat a mouthful of crimson. He had no more strength for a breakthrough. He could continue to kill what was in front of him, but he could no longer escape.

Despair began to settle in. His muscles refused to respond.

‘Is this the end?’

Then, a sensation stirred in the back of his mind. It was a filthy, jarring feeling, but it acted like a jolt of adrenaline to a dying heart.

“…!”

‘No way.’

The monsters lunged. Hillun summoned a final burst of movement, incinerating a yeti and decapitating a beast. A demon tackled him, and Hillun bit into its throat like an animal.

Bam—

A heavy blow sent him tumbling through the drifts. He spat out a chunk of demon flesh and pushed himself up.

“Revolting,” Armand sneered.

“I’m not dying,” Hillun croaked.

“That choice was taken from you long ago.”

“It wasn’t yours to take.”

“What nonsense are you—?!”

Armand suddenly spun around. The monsters and demons nearby began to tremble uncontrollably. Hillun’s bloody lips pulled into a smirk.

The world turned white—not from snow, but from a blinding radiance.

A wave of heat rolled over the tundra.

Fire.

A brilliant, crimson conflagration erupted. It was a heat so pure and intense that the blizzard simply ceased to exist in its presence.

“…When did this happen?” Armand stammered, backing away.

It wasn’t just the heat; it was the fact that an opposing power had penetrated this deep into Reina Sordain’s territory without being detected. As a servant of the Frost, Armand should have sensed this intruder miles away.

A primal fear gripped the demon. He turned to his subordinates and screamed.

“Everyone, get back—!”

In that heartbeat.

Whoosh—

An arc of flame cut through the sky, vaporizing the snow and turning the steam into a blood-red mist. It fell toward the center of the battlefield like a falling star.

Booom—

The explosion was a cataclysm. It felt as if the sun had touched the earth. Armand thought he saw the silhouette of wings amidst the fire.

The blast incinerated everything. The white plains were turned into a charred crater. Demons were consumed by their own ignited energy; beasts were reduced to ash.

And there, standing amidst the dying embers.

“He’s right,” a voice rumbled through the clearing.

Crimson eyes locked onto the survivors.

“Whether he lives or dies is a decision that belongs solely to me.”

Berge let out a long, steaming breath.

—

End