The demigod stiffened in shock.
It was his right arm that had been severed.
Blood spurted from the cross-section, drenching the ground.
The demigod placed his other hand over the wound, and the bleeding stopped.
He was likely suppressing it with his ability.
Then he fixed his gaze on his own falling arm.
One arm vanished and was drawn back to the demigod.
He seized the severed limb with his intact hand and pressed the two cut surfaces together.
Before long, the arm was reattached.
The demigod opened and closed his fingers.
There seemed to be no discomfort.
It appeared the nerves had been reconnected with perfect precision.
A terrifying regenerative power.
The demigod descended to the ground.
Grom's remains lay scattered nearby.
Merely emanating miasma, there was no sign of it stirring again.
"That final blow was magnificent."
Saying this, the demigod raised his hand.
Grom was subjected to a spatial compression from above, and even the last remaining fragments were pulverized to dust.
Through this thorough destruction, it was rendered completely incapacitated.
"…………"
I consciously maintained my composure.
As long as I could replenish his magical power, Grom's resurrection was possible.
He wouldn't be destroyed so easily.
When it came to undeath, he had been one of the most formidable among the undead.
Therefore, I could not afford to lose my cool here.
The demigod glanced at the shattered remains of Grom.
Then, he looked toward me.
"As expected, he was insignificant. Before this power, he was nothing more than a fragile being."
"He fulfilled his role. More than adequately, in fact."
I retorted to the demigod.
The demigod exhaled softly and demonstrated by moving one arm.
A hint of contempt and disdain could be seen in his murky eyes.
"Severing an arm? Or perhaps forcing me to use a fraction of my ability? Either way, these are trivial matters. They won't affect the outcome."
The demigod stated in a chilling tone.
Grom's struggle meant nothing to him.
I offered no further argument.
I had not come here to engage in a verbal dispute.
Even if I could win the argument, there would be no benefit for my side.
What I needed to do was ensure that Grom's contribution was reflected in the results.
There was nothing else, and I should not stir emotions further.
I drew the sword from its sheath and held it at the ready with practiced motions.
These were the same sword techniques that had once slain a Demon Lord.
Even in recent times, they had felled various heroes.
The sword itself bore an inescapable karma.
And tonight, a new chapter would be added to that history.
The demigod looked at me with an expression of puzzlement.
He questioned me.
"Just a sword? Do you mean to fight with such a thing? You are overconfident."
"This is not overconfidence. I will show you the proof."
I stepped forward.
With sword held high, I calmly closed the distance toward the demigod.
Without haste, I continued to move my feet at a steady pace.
I had a general grasp of the demigod's fighting style.
I also had a sense of how he used his abilities.
Now, I would observe his opening move.
This was by no means passive.
His swordsmanship was superior at counterattacks.
His foundation was built upon defensive techniques derived from the basics.
He had always prioritized, above all else, the avoidance of injury.
In battles against the demonic tribes, even minor wounds can determine the outcome.
It could be called an essential skill for the hero's trade.
As a result, her sword was sublimated into a form suited for that purpose.
"..."
The sub-god was observing me.
He feigned calm, but his small movements betrayed his unease.
He was perplexed by my unexpected behavior.
He probably thought I would charge at him recklessly.
It seemed the sub-god was not accustomed to fighting.
He utterly lacked absolute experience.
Judging by his movements until now, he had received some training, but it was merely superficial.
His entire fighting style relied on his abilities.
Then again, it couldn't be called a weakness, per se.
He could defeat most opponents by relying on his abilities alone.
The sub-god's power was that unfair.
It held enough strength to overturn any disadvantage and seize victory.
(However, that wouldn't work against those of equal or higher standing.)
The sub-god moved his arm.
I focused my consciousness further, paying close attention to his actions and the changes.
His extended finger began to fade from its tip, vanishing away.
It connects distant spaces, teleporting only a portion to another location.
It's likely preparing to launch a surprise attack from there.
The same sequence that pierced Grom's back.
I followed my instinct and flashed my sword.
The slash, delivered while leaning my upper body back, severed the demigod's hand reaching from a blind spot.
Then I swung the sword again in succession.
The demigod's hands extending from the void were dismantled, from fingers to wrists.
"..."
The demigod retracted its hand.
The pressed hand was covered in blood.
The severed parts were already reattached.
(That healing is fast. Quite practiced.)
Just being able to use spatial magic isn't enough for such skillful manipulation.
It must have trained extensively to avoid dying.
That effort is evident.
"Why is the sword unharmed? That contact should have destroyed it."
The demigod looked at the heirloom sword as it spoke.
I flicked the blood off and answered.
"I cut at a speed unaffected by spatial magic interference. Nothing difficult."
Upon contact with the demigod, space itself twists.
And will be destroyed regardless of my output.
Even with my full power, resisting would likely prove difficult.
Though it appears invulnerable at first glance, this state is not maintained constantly.
The demigod is consciously activating it.
Just like when Grom used the threads of miasma, attacks can get through when it's not activated.
Furthermore, the demigod's spatial magic had a flaw: it required a time delay before activation.
I realized this after watching the recent battle.
The more powerful the spell, the greater the charge time.
Though only for a brief moment, there existed a window long enough to sever an arm before it could be fully invoked.
By increasing my sword speed, it became possible to counter the demigod's spatial magic.
"Impossible..."
"Does this prove it? I'm not being overconfident. I intend to eliminate you with everything I have."
I declare this while pointing my sword's tip.
The keepsake sword reflected a pale, blueish light under the moonlight.
A single line of blood traced down its length, dripping off.
The demigod grumbled, paying attention to its severed arm.
"I thought you were a mage, but I was mistaken. Who would have thought you were a swordsman-type lich?"
"Lost your nerve?"
"I was just surprised. There's no sign of weakness in the quest to slay the Demon Lord."
The demigod's gaze brimmed with fighting spirit.
Despite having their abilities countered at every turn, they still refuse to accept defeat.
It seems they intend to do everything in their power to kill me.
That stance is indeed that of a hero.
"Here I go."
The braced demi-god generated distortions in all directions.
They used those to launch their attack.