As I fell, I kept my clairvoyance trained on Alexander.
And the moment I began my descent, I felt Alexander lock onto me as well.
At the same time, I flinched.
The distance between us was closing at a terrifying rate.
Because he was controlling his falling speed with the Dragon King Sword.
First, I'd eliminate that advantage.
"『Arm, devour it all』!"
Alexander's falling speed returned to normal.
But inertia is inertia—I'd already built up speed and couldn't stop on a dime.
Should I use Wind Magic to slow myself?
No. Gravity is a weapon.
Without Touki to clothe my body, I'd weaponize physics instead.
I used a shockwave to adjust my trajectory, angling myself straight toward Alexander.
"Ohhhhh!"
Maintaining our relative velocity, I slammed into Alexander.
He blocked with his sword as a shield, but the force wasn't extinguished, and he was smashed into the rock wall.
All the while, I kept the Absorption Stone running.
The recoil pulled me toward the wall too, but I fired off another shockwave to right myself, kicked off the rock, and accelerated.
Once again, I caught up to Alexander.
"Oraaa!"
Punch!
I accelerated with a shockwave and punched.
I built relative velocity and punched, punched, punched.
I used the laws of physics to punch.
"Aaaaaah!"
Alexander screamed.
Maybe he couldn't make sense of being pummeled in midair like this.
I couldn't make sense of it either.
I didn't understand why I was doing this.
But I felt I couldn't let him go.
If I left a powerful kid like this—one utterly devoid of morality—roaming free, someone would pay the price.
And that someone would be me. The enemy.
My comrades. My family. Someone.
"Aaaaaaaaah!"
I screamed too, without understanding why.
It wasn't that I hadn't listened to Alexander and Chandon's conversation.
It wasn't that I didn't think he could grow if he reflected on his actions.
It wasn't that I hadn't weighed the scales.
But I punched.
Accelerated, and punched. Accelerated, and punched. Accelerated, and kept on punching…
We slammed into the canyon floor at an incredible speed.
Both of us.
--- I raised my body from the dust.
The fall had scattered something like blue spores across the area.
Visibility was poor.
But my body, at least, was intact.
The magic armor set truly lived up to its name—sturdy.
A few cracks had formed, but it could still function.
"Hah…"
Alexander, too, was alive.
But not entirely unscathed.
His armor was shattered, and one leg bent in an unnatural direction.
But that was all.
His Touki must have protected his body.
He stood on one leg, watching me.
What a monster.
"…You came after me alone?"
Alexander looked at me and murmured.
"That takes guts."
I looked up.
In the pitch darkness above, I could see Earth Dragons writhing.
But no one seemed to be coming down.
I expected Atolfe would arrive before long.
She could fly, after all…
"Grandmother is an old-fashioned person. I fell, and you followed. In that case, she won't send anyone else after us."
"You can't be serious."
"That woman, no matter how old she gets, still dreams of a showdown between a Demon Lord and a Hero."
I could kind of see that.
Atolfe was rough, but I'd noticed she had certain peculiar obsessions.
When she fought, she wouldn't even let her personal guard intervene.
"And for me, that's fortunate."
"…Fortunate how?"
"This injury. If the one who'd come after me was
"And with me, it won't end?"
"I have no intention of losing to you."
Full of confidence.
Alexander was severely wounded.
He'd lost one arm and one leg.
I was wearing the magic armor.
I'd burned through considerable mana in the long fight, but having focused on support, I had no real injuries.
I was in perfect condition.
"Aren't you underestimating me?"
"Not particularly.
You can't even clothe yourself in Touki, your reaction speed is slow, you're carelessly open and sloppy on all sides.
You failed to notice that the North God Doga was drugged, got isolated, and were knocked into the canyon.
You lack both resolve and vigilance—a half-baked amateur."
I had no rebuttal to that.
He was right, honestly.
Even with mana overflowing from my body, I was still incompetent.
If Atolfe hadn't shown up this time, things could have gone badly.
"So even from here, I'll win if we fight—and I'll escape.
If I escape from here, victory is within reach."
"You do realize that even if I die, I have allies?
The Fighting God ran away, and the Sword God is dead…
Even without me, you shouldn't have a chance against them."
I hadn't personally confirmed whether the Sword God was truly dead.
But he probably was. It was Eris, after.
"No. A hero can win. That's how they're built.
And right now, you failed to finish me off during the fall.
Even when I couldn't move and could only take your attacks, you couldn't land the killing blow."
His attitude said it all: that was the answer.
Full of confidence.
And yet, he was standing on his own two feet—or rather, his one good foot.
"I will win.
Against you, against Father, against Grandmother, against
I'll defeat everyone and carve my name into history.
As the strongest swordsman in history.
So that when people say 'North God Kalman,' they'll say the third generation, Alexander, was the strongest."
He was battered beyond recognition, but the fact that he could still stand on that one leg meant he was far from a sitting duck. I could see a chance of victory for him.
I could see it.
And I didn't know what the odds were, but he clearly believed he had them.
He believed he could beat me in a decisive clash.
Because he wanted to be a hero?
No, that wasn't it.
He'd overcome considerable hardships to get here.
He was aware he'd been cornered.
He'd underestimated me somewhat, but he wouldn't hold back this time like he had before.
He intended to crush me with everything he had and then escape.
His opponent was the Third North God Kalman.
One of the Seven Great Powers, wielding world-class swordsmanship and the world's strongest magic sword.
Not a cornered rat—but a wounded beast.
As for me, I didn't have much of a track record of winning decisive clashes.
I either prepared in advance and overwhelmed my opponent, or I couldn't bridge the gap in power and lost.
He'd sensed that about me too.
In all the hardships he'd overcome, he'd figured out that I wasn't the type who could pull it off.
Or maybe Geese or the
"…………One last question. Are you the Man-God's apostle?"
"No, I'm not. Neither I nor the Sword God—we just got information from Geese. I won't deny that I've been helping him, though."
"I see."
Then who was the last apostle?
Well, I'd think about that later.
Right now, I needed to beat this guy.
Hm?
Wait—what if I couldn't? Could I just run?
I had combat power.
There was no need to push myself here.
If there was truly one more apostle left, shouldn't I preserve myself?
I'd already taken down the Sword God and suffered no casualties.
Shouldn't I withdraw now and create a situation where I could win for certain?
"…No."
No.
That wasn't it.
Behind me stood Orsted.
Letting no one through to him—that was the condition for victory.
If one or two slipped past to Orsted, it wouldn't immediately cause a crisis.
It would just cost Orsted precious mana.
An amount he'd probably need about eighty years to recover.
And that was precisely why I was letting my guard down right now.
I was definitely more relaxed than when the battle began.
I'd defeated the Sword God and driven off the Fighting God.
The North God before me was covered in wounds and looked ready to collapse.
And even if the North God slipped past here, my companions were still standing.
Even if they were broken through, Orsted had room to spare.
Against the Third North God Kalman, Orsted had probably fought him many times before. He could handle it even while protecting the Sperd race.
In that kind of situation, I was relaxing.
I was thinking, "It's fine if I lose. I have room."
There it was.
The "element that won't let me lose"—that's what Alexander had talked about, and this was it.
Come to think of it, it was always like this, wasn't it?
When I tried to play it safe, when I tried to take a step back for the margin of error, that was exactly when one step wasn't enough in the clutch moment.
And Alexander had sniffed it out.
Momentum. Flow. Luck. Current. Things like that exist.
I didn't really believe in those abstract concepts… but sometimes, they do.
If I retreated or lost here, Alexander would gain something.
And in return, I would lose something.
Something that couldn't be put into words. Something beyond calculation. Something.
"…"
That was why I couldn't lose.
I couldn't lose here, and I couldn't retreat.
This was a moment where I had to take the risk and go for it.
Here.
This was the turning point.
Whether I could wring out everything I had and show my real strength—that was the question.
"…I am the Dragon God's subordinate,
"! My name is 'North God' Alexander Kalman Raiback!"
I steeled my resolve.
"Aaaaaaaahhhhh!!"
I roared.
I bellowed from the depths of my gut.
"Oaaaaaaaahhh!"
Alexander too let out a cry and raised his sword.
Right hand holding the blade.
His left hand was gone, so he just steadied it as best he could.
Right foot forward.
His broken left foot planted on the ground.
I charged at him.
There was no strategy.
I instinctively felt that a long-range attack wouldn't work.
I ran at Alexander in a low stance.
But just before contact— Something flashed through my mind.
Eris's figure.
Instinctively, I raised the gatling on my right arm and fired a full-power rock cannonball.
"!"
But the cannonball vanished.
Right in front of Alexander, the Absorption Stone's power reduced it to sand and dust.
Alexander saw me charging, took a step forward, saw the rain of cannonballs, and for just an instant hesitated—pulling his right foot back slightly.
But the cannonballs kept disappearing one after another.
I suddenly leaned my body to the left.
I understood I was within range of Alexander's sword. But I charged in anyway.
I pulled my outstretched right hand back to my hip.
I threw myself forward as if scraping my chest along the ground.
I planted my right foot to Alexander's left side.
"Rya…aaaaaah!"
Alexander's shoulder moved.
A flash of silver.
An impact near my right shoulder—a piece of the magic armor blew off.
But my arm wasn't severed.
I didn't bother checking the wound. I planted my feet firmly and drove my right fist— 〈Alexander's foot tensed〉 I'd be knocked away. He'd dodge.
That's what I thought, and in that moment, I poured mana into my left hand.
I cut the mana supply to the Absorption Stone and prepared another spell—I hadn't decided which one.
But I poured my will—don't let him dodge—into my left hand, into the mana, and directed it at Alexander's foot— "!?"
Alexander's foot wavered, floating for just an instant.
"Aaaaaaah!"
Screaming, I swung my right fist upward.
The fist with the gatling cannon, swung with everything I had.
Thud—the fist connected.
I smashed Alexander into the wall.
"『Pierce through』!!"
I poured everything into the gatling.
Rock cannonballs hammered in like a jackhammer, cracking the cliff face.
But I didn't stop. I poured in even more mana.
Stronger shots. Faster volleys.
The instant I thought only of that, I felt something wrong in my right hand.
Cracks spread across the gatling in an instant, and it shattered to pieces.
"Aaaaaaaahhhh!!!"
Even so, I kept pouring mana into my right hand.
What I conjured was rock cannonballs.
The ones I'd made the most, the ones I was most practiced with.
I fired them.
Fired, fired, fired.
"Ah… ah… haah…"
Until my screams grew hoarse, turned to sighs, turned to ragged breathing.
I kept firing.
"Haa… haa…"
Then I pulled back.
The magic armor's right arm, which had been driven completely into the wall, snapped off at the base.
At the base… where Alexander had landed that blow earlier.
If I hadn't been wearing the Atolfe Hand, my entire right arm might have been severed along with it.
"…"
Inside the cliff, I could see a mass of flesh.
From the gap between the wall and my embedded fist, red blood oozed down.
Not a single movement.
I happened to glance nearby and saw a sword lying on the ground.
The one Alexander had been gripping just moments ago.
The Dragon King Sword Kajakt.
I picked it up with my remaining hand.
A massive blade nearly two meters long.
I held it and looked at the wall once more.
"…"
Blood was flowing.
From the wall, and from the gap where my fist had been driven in—red blood trickled down.
Nothing moved.
Only the blood, flowing in silence.
Looking up, I could see a mass of Earth Dragons shifting, but this particular area felt eerily quiet.
But my hand still held the sensation.
The certain feeling of having finished the job.
"I did it."
The words slipped from my mouth before I knew it.
Why did I win?
I thought it had come down to a razor's edge.
One more instant of hesitation in my step, or if Alexander hadn't flinched for that brief moment— Alexander's slash would have cut me in half, armor and all.
The Eris-style maneuver had worked.
That reckless, unconventional approach that somehow threw off the timing.
By taking one step—no, half a step—deeper than usual, I'd managed to slip past his range.
This was Eris's way of attacking.
Eris could only pull off moves like that when she was in a zone where high-risk actions came naturally.
That was why she won.
Blood dripping from the back of her neck, the last one standing.
Of course, my movements weren't on Eris's level.
I couldn't tell the difference between when I could and couldn't reach that zone.
I myself shouldn't have been able to move like that.
If Alexander's foot or hand hadn't been incapacitated, or if he hadn't underestimated me, things wouldn't have turned out this way.
And that last moment—making Alexander's foot lift off the ground.
A sensation from a spell I'd never used before.
Could it be… that I'd manipulated gravity?
Or maybe Alexander had been in the middle of trying to use the Dragon King Sword's gravity manipulation, and when I cut the mana to the Absorption Stone, it activated at an unexpected timing.
I couldn't tell anymore.
It might have come down to luck in the end.
But I didn't believe this victory was luck alone.
"I won."
I clenched my fist and thrust it skyward.
--- When I kicked the Earth Dragons aside and climbed back up from the canyon, people were there.
The subjugation party.
With the bridge gone and all three God-tier fighters dead, they'd been left standing around in confusion.
When they saw me, they scattered like spiders.
They must have thought I looked like some kind of demon.
I grabbed a few of the field commanders—knights who appeared to be from the Dihrl Kingdom—and informed them that both the Sword God and the North God were dead.
I also made it clear that if they intended to continue hunting the Sperd race, I was prepared to fight back.
But at the same time, I told them I was still open to peace negotiations.
The terms hadn't changed much from before.
I was angry about being attacked, but if Geese was the king—or close to the king—that meant the Man-God was behind it all.
I had no intention of abandoning a generous stance.
Still, just to be safe, I detained two of them as prisoners.
If Geese was impersonating the king, it might not amount to much.
But not every knight was Geese's puppet.
Not every powerful figure in the country was under his control.
If word of today's events spread, and the knights returned safely, public opinion would surely be on our side.
If all else failed, we'd have to resettle them… but well, that would at least buy us time.
Thinking that, I turned to leave—then spotted something.
The monument of the Seven Great Powers.
At its edge.
The mark at the very bottom had changed to something familiar.
"…"
A mark shaped like three spears interlocked.
The form of the Migurd race's amulet.
So I'd become one of the Seven Great Powers.
I'd delivered the final blow, but four of us fought together. I couldn't really feel it.
Or maybe the mark wasn't mine—it could have been Ruijerd's.
Probably not Eris's though.
"…"
Honestly, I couldn't say it made me feel great.
But what was done was done.
I decided to head back to Eris and the others.
--- After that, I crossed the canyon and reunited with the group.
"How did it go?"
Chandon was the first to ask.
When I told him I'd finished Alexander off in the canyon floor, he gave a bitter smile with a sorrowful look.
"You're the hero. A Demon Lord who underestimates a hero loses. That's how it's always been."
Atolfe's expression hadn't changed much.
But perhaps she was a little sad—she said something uncharacteristically sentimental.
"…"
Alexander was dead.
I thought he was still just a kid.
He had talent, and all he'd done was look upward… I thought he still had a future ahead of him.
Thinking about Alexander and Chandon's conversation, I had mixed feelings.
Part of me wished I could've made Alexander think about things on a longer timeline—thought about teaching him a lesson first and letting him reflect later.
There was no killing intent or hatred.
I killed him because he was the enemy.
I thought—if he escaped here, I'd regret it later. If I didn't do it now—and so I killed him.
I didn't intend to apologize.
This was a war.
They were trying to kill me.
That's how it was.
"You did it!"
In contrast, Eris looked pleased.
When I told her the pattern on the monument had changed, she crossed her arms, the corners of her mouth curving up, her breathing quickening.
If I hadn't been wearing the magic armor, she probably would've thrown herself at me.
What a waste.
"…"
Ruijerd didn't say much of anything, but his face was heavy with fatigue.
I'd noticed it during the fight, but he really was approaching his limits.
That fight with a body still recovering from illness had to have been grueling.
But no one had suffered anything resembling a serious injury, and we'd all come away whole.
Still, how had things gone elsewhere?
With that thought, we hurried back toward the Sperd village.
The scorched ground where the Sword God's body had been burned.
The crater carved by the North God's attack.
The trees felled in the battle with the Fighting God, and the animal trail.
As we retraced our steps past all of it, we found
Beside him, Doga was squatting with a hollow expression.
Zanoba appeared to be asleep.
Lying face-up, pale as a ghost.
Like a corpse?
"…Zanoba. Wake up. It's over."
I called to him from atop the magic armor.
No response.
"Zanoba…?"
For a few seconds, the forest went silent.
The wind stopped. No sound of anything.
"Huh? Zanoba? You're kidding…"
"…"
"Answer me…"
Zanoba didn't answer.
His face turned toward the sky, silent like a corpse.
Just like… a corpse.
"…Hmph!"
Suddenly, Eris kicked Zanoba in the head.
"Fugah!?"
"We're going! Get up, now!"
"…? Oh my! My sincerest apologies. It seems I dozed off at some point."
Yeah, right.
But honestly, it wouldn't have been strange if he'd been dead.
Zanoba and Doga had been outmatched.
If we hadn't happened to encounter them, it wouldn't have been surprising if Zanoba had ended up as a silent corpse.
As I thought about it, I looked at the path where Zanoba and Doga had been blown back from.
Traces of battle were scattered everywhere.
Uprooted trees, shattered trees, slash marks, small craters.
How had they managed to win?
Well, they hadn't really beaten the Fighting God.
They'd just survived.
"Come to think of it, why was Lady Atolfe here?"
"Hmm? You want to know?"
"Please tell me."
Atolfe's explanation was clumsy and hard to follow.
She used so many sound effects that I probably understood less than half of it.
"So, in short, the teleportation circle from the ancient war was still there, and you used it?"
"I'd found it in advance, preparing for the day it would be needed!"
That was bad.
If word got out that the infamous Atolfe had used a teleportation circle, it might tarnish my own reputation—since I'd been going around making teleportation circles everywhere.
Well… at this point, it didn't matter.
And with that… it was over?
I'd felt the chance for victory, sure, but once it passed, the whole thing felt like it went by in a flash.
I wasn't sure what would happen with the Fighting God, but there were barely any enemies left.
"…"
The moment I realized it was over, I suddenly caught a sweet scent drifting from Eris walking beside me.
Maybe it was because the fierce battle had just ended.
Survival instincts stimulated, reproductive instincts activated.
How about tonight, then?
Would this be the night Rudeus finally got the green light?
"No, no, no."
Abstinent Rudeus would hold out until Geese was defeated.
That was right.
Besides, I still hadn't confirmed Geese's whereabouts.
The Fighting God had only fled. There was no telling what would happen.
And there was still one apostle remaining.
It wasn't over.
But Geese still hadn't shown himself.
Our intelligence network was in shambles, and searching was next to impossible.
Even if he'd escaped, we wouldn't know.
…Or maybe that had been his plan all along?
Was I the only one who'd thought this was the final battle, the decisive clash—while Geese had been planning to run?
Right now, he could be heading for the border with the last apostle in tow…
In this battle, all my scattered intelligence assets had converged on the Sperd village.
No teleportation circles. No communication slates.
Even if we spotted Geese at the border, we'd have no way to catch up.
He'd probably run.
Once the Underworld King was defeated and the Sword God and North God went berserk, putting them at a disadvantage…
He'd spend eighty percent of his forces as a diversion, secure the assets he could still control, draw us in, and slip away in the confusion.
Cut his losses this time and go for next time.
If it were me, that's what I'd do.
"Hah…"
I couldn't let my guard down yet.
But for now, the battle here was done.
I was tired.
I couldn't fight anymore today.
I'd leave the rest to someone else.
I'd failed to take out Geese, but I'd defeated the Sword God, the North God, and the Underworld King.
I'd won over Ruijerd and the Sperd race.
As for the Dihrl Kingdom and the Fighting God, it depended on what Geese had done… that was a matter for future negotiations.
Our losses were limited to the office being destroyed…
Which meant, among other things, all the teleportation circles were wiped out.
I'd be immobilized for a while, but the moves had been made.
Given that I'd been bracing for far worse damage, this wasn't bad.
The Sperd village came into view.
Noticing our presence, Sperd children peered at us from atop the fence.
Then, from the entrance, the warriors who'd been guarding the village emerged.
After them:
I climbed down from the magic armor.
All the mana I'd burned through must have caught up with me—my body felt heavy.
Juri and Ginger rushed to Zanoba.
Norn went to Ruijerd.
Cliff headed for the still-exhausted Doga.
Some embraced each other. Others exchanged words of relief.
Watching them, I finally felt the reality of it settle in.
"…"
Last, Orsted emerged.
He walked toward me.
"You won?"
"Yes."
As proof of victory, I handed him the sword.
The Dragon King Sword Kajakt—the very symbol of the North God.
"We won."
We had won.
It was far from a complete victory, but we'd broken through the crisis.
We'd shattered the trap Geese had set and taken the lead by one move.
There was so much to consider.
The number of lessons to learn was endless.
But a win was a win.
"Good work."
I received Orsted's words of praise and bowed my head.
Then I caught a glance from the side.
It was Eris.
She stood with her arms crossed, looking at me.
I spread my arms wide.
"…!"
Eris leaped into them.
Savoring the warmth of her against my chest, I thought to myself once more.
We had won.