In the desert below, John and Balk were reviving.
They were attempting to board the nearest tank.
While they did so, other weapon systems activated and began a concentrated barrage against me.
"(Same old tactics,)"
I evaluated coldly.
Then I absorbed the approaching rain of shells through spatial magic holes.
The exit point was above John and Balk's heads.
The overwhelming firepower descended upon them directly.
The bombardment, having crossed space in an instant, caused a massive explosion in the desert.
A huge crater burst open at the detonation point, and John, Balk, and the tank at its center vanished without a trace.
That was a technique I had once fought against a demigod.
This was an imitation and improved version of that spell.
It allowed for simultaneous defense and counterattack without any time lag, making it extremely practical.
John and Balk reappeared a short distance away, boarding a small ship and taking off.
In a direction away from me.
They must have judged that range was dangerous while visible.
They had likely felt that keenly from the spatial magic just now.
Until now, I had mostly relied on defensive magic or magic swords for counters, consciously avoiding unsportsmanlike techniques.
But by making them grow desperate with that approach, I could unleash the absolute counterattack of spatial magic.
The psychological impact must have been immense.
It's actually having the effect of eroding their fighting spirit, forcing them into a passive stance.
It seems it was worth holding this in reserve until now.
(Now's the time to press the attack.)
Having made that judgment, I moved to pursue John and the others.
However, unmanned weapons barred my path, swiveling their barrels to unleash a barrage upon me.
Gripping my magic sword, I employed that person's swordsmanship to cut down every last shell without exception.
The diverse otherworldly weapons each harbored more than enough destructive power to kill me.
Fighting over such an extended period, I was able to grasp—however dimly—the level of their civilization.
This other world must be far more advanced than this one.
No matter how powerless a person might be, so long as they understand how to handle weapons, they can wield tremendous force.
Yet before an overwhelmingly superior individual, that too becomes virtually meaningless.
Weapons are, in the end, mere toys of steel.
They cannot exceed their design specifications—that is their limit.
There is no room left for growth.
Admittedly, improvement might change that, but that is something rather different from true growth.
Humans, by contrast, can at times demonstrate unbelievable power.
They can turn even desperation into fuel for growth, overturning all common sense in the process.
I have tasted that latent potential time and again.
Heroes are, quite literally, the embodiment of human possibility.
(They must be starting to feel their limits as well.)
I materialize before John and Balk on the ship.
They alter the vessel's course, attempting to avoid me.
As I suspected, they fear magical assault.
Not from fear of death.
They realize the futility of pressing forward.
(But I won't let them escape.)
I unleash vines from the desert, entangling the ship to obstruct it.
The vessel is dragged halfway into the sand, immobilized.
It cannot move now.
Trapped, John shouts toward me.
"Demon King! We're going to kill you and return to the real world! Then we'll destroy it! There's no grand purpose. Just pure spite!"
I detect clear malice in John's gaze.
Unlike before, this isn't the look of someone fighting for a cause.
There's not a shred of pride, only festering personal hatred.
"This isn't a provocation. It's the truth. Dwight, your sentimentality will destroy the world...!"
Balk follows with his own taunt.
They seem to have bonded over their similar predicament.
Finding a common enemy in me has apparently bridged their hearts.
Ironically, that unity is what I once sought from the world.
They now embody it.
Soon the weapons were firing in our direction. On their trajectories were John and Balk. They intended to blow us all up, including themselves. As always, it was a suicide tactic. The incoming bombardments were, as expected, laden with sorcery. A direct hit would not leave me intact. My consciousness would never return to the real world. Even while knowing this, I calmly cast my magic. I scooped up sand to form a mountain-sized golem and had it take the bombardments with its body. Amidst the relentless chain of explosions, the golem was gradually corroded by curses from the edge inward. It eventually collapsed, but the barrage never reached me. Only John and Balk, caught in the collateral damage, were killed. "This is the perfect opportunity," I declared. I activated another forbidden spell, reversing the gravity in the surrounding area. The line of weapons, along with the sand, rose into the air. They then began to swirl and rotate in the sky. The weapons fired their cannons in a panic. However, the projectiles, subjected to intense gravity, halted in mid-air. Unable to advance further or explode, they continued to float. New weapons emerged on the desert surface, but they could only rise helplessly, unable to resist. Even weapons from another world could not defy my forbidden spell.
There was no room for debate; they were simply sent skyward.
Once the night sky was filled with weaponry, I concentrated gravity to a single point.
It was positioned to overlap perfectly with the moon.
The weapons clashed and crowded together, grinding and compressing.
Yielding to the gravity, their sturdy outer shells crumpled.
Despite exploding, they merged, and finally, a sphere composed of sand and iron took shape.
(What a spectacular sight. I've done well.)
As I gazed at the sphere, I sensed a flicker of magic power within it.
Immediately after, a shot rang out, and a projectile flew toward me, defying gravity.
I swung my magic sword and cleaved the bullet in two.
The bisected halves embedded themselves in the sand at my feet.
John and Balk were on the surface of the sphere.
It seemed they had endured it without being crushed, even as the gravity pulled at them.
I isolated only them within a barrier and teleported them to a zone beyond gravity's reach.
That barrier was also capable of confining astral bodies.
Even if they killed themselves, escape was impossible.
The barrier technique was something I had devised during this very battle.
Having tailored it to their mental signatures, it was absolutely unbreakable from the inside.
It was difficult to formulate while fighting, but I managed to make it work.
"Now, for the finish."
I conjured blades of wind within the barrier and carved John and Balk into nothing but scraps of flesh.
Then I incinerated them with searing heat, annihilating their physical bodies.
I further shrank the barrier down until it was small enough to rest in the palm of my hand.
With that, their resurrection was prevented.
The two of them were now nothing but spirits, trapped inside.
As long as they could not revive, they posed no threat to me.
They had already played every card in their hand during the course of battle.
I knew they had no hidden trump cards left.
No weapon or sorcery could have broken through that situation.
It had taken considerable effort and time, but success was success.
John and Balk's abilities were simple yet extraordinarily powerful.
No army in the entire world could stand against them.
Even those of the Demon Lord's army would struggle to claim victory.
But that was all they were, in the end.
One simply had to overpower them with superior violence.
The outcome had been all but decided the moment they failed to kill me even once throughout that prolonged battle.
Having left the barrier in the desert, I set off toward Gwen.