The demigod was crouching on the ground.
Writhing in agony, he was desperately trying to rejoin the parts I had slashed.
He was attempting to stop the bleeding, but it wasn't going well.
Blood was seeping from the severed surfaces.
(His magic is unstable. So this must be his limit.)
That was my judgment based on the demigod's magical output.
The brutal fights up to this point had taken their toll on his spatial manipulation.
No matter how extraordinary his aptitude was, his magic was not inexhaustible.
As long as he was human, there had to be a limit.
The demigod had long since surpassed that limit.
He could have lost consciousness at any moment.
The fact that he could still continue treatment so desperately was nothing but sheer willpower.
He still hadn't given up on victory.
I landed beside the demigod and approached with my sword drawn.
The opponent was covered in wounds, but I couldn't let my guard down.
A cornered hero could unleash unknown powers.
And the demigod would be no exception.
The demigod raised his face and glared at me.
One of his cracked eyes was stained crimson.
"Are… you saying I'm… half-hearted?"
"That's right. You don't have the resolve."
I answered coldly.
The way this demigod lived was irresponsible in every respect.
He would kill those he branded as evil and then die himself.
Then he'd leave everything behind, dumping it all on the people left standing.
He himself must have felt at ease.
Never thinking about consequences, he simply fought with nothing but his convictions.
He could face down great evil without a single worry.
Of course, that was nothing more than self-satisfaction.
It was far from a fundamental solution.
"If you defeat evil, peace will follow. How happy things would be if it were that simple. Unfortunately, reality isn't so kind."
"Gh…!"
The demigod, gnashing his teeth, sharpened his gaze.
A spatial distortion was beginning to form around my torso.
I detected it, twisted half my body, and cut through the distortion.
The spatial destruction failed, and his magic dissipated.
I lowered my sword and spoke.
"I've already memorized your spell patterns. The same trick won't work twice."
I am the sage.
If the same magic is cast on me multiple times, I learn how to deal with it.
I had already established an efficient method of destruction.
As for the demigod's spatial magic, I could cut through it with my sword without even needing to see it.
"As a pioneer, let me make this clear. You shouldn't expect any self-cleansing from the people. What will happen after your death is nothing but an ugly scramble for power. There will be no peace in that."
"Shut up!"
The demigod raised one hand.
I severed that hand before the spell could activate.
The severed arm was split into hundreds of pieces, no longer recognizable.
Reattaching it would be impossible.
"Kgh, grrrrgh…"
The demigod groaned.
Blood gushed from the severed surface.
With this, he had lost both arms.
His options for attack were limited, and he shouldn't be able to use his magic properly.
I placed my blade against the demigod's neck.
"Sleep here. One person despairing about this world is enough."
"…!"
The demigod persistently tried to conjure a spell.
But the spatial manipulation failed, and he collapsed after convulsing.
Blood spilled from his mouth.
The blood had turned a dark, livid color.
The demigod tried to stand, but his legs gave out and he collapsed.
His body was beginning to decay.
Spots appeared on his skin, which was already crumbling.
The demigod noticed and his eyes went wide.
"What… did you…!?"
"It's miasma poison. It's been eating away at your body."
However, I wasn't the one who implanted the miasma.
It was Grom's doing — the one who fought him first.
When he severed the demigod's arm, he had mixed miasma into the wound.
The trace amount delayed the visible effects, but it allowed the miasma to corrode his body undetected.
Knowing his own power was insufficient, Grom had still delivered results within his means.
Our conversation up to this point had been, in a sense, nothing more than stalling for time.
Having noticed the miasma infusion, I had been waiting for its effects to manifest.
My plan had succeeded brilliantly.
It was true that I had some interest in the demigod's ideology, but that was merely incidental to buying time.
If he had noticed the miasma partway through, he would have cut off our conversation and attacked.
The demigod had underestimated Grom.
So fixated on his decisive battle with me, he had made a fatal oversight.
If he hadn't looked down on Grom from the start, the miasma would never have been planted.
"I see… it does seem like I'm going to die…"
The demigod slowly exhaled.
Lying down, he gazed into the void while coughing up black blood.
He relaxed every muscle in his body and softly closed his eyes.
Just when I thought he would draw his last breath, he roared with every ounce of strength he had left.
"—But you're coming with me!"
The next instant, the demigod's torso exploded.
A hole was born in its place, and space warped violently.
The ground all around groaned and heaved upward.
The hole began to swallow the subspace itself.