I manipulate the magic within my body and sharpen my consciousness.
I switch my thoughts to those suited for battle.
Meanwhile, she wore a cool smile.
"It seems you've steeled yourself. That's a good mindset. The you from when you were alive would surely have hesitated. You would have tried to avoid fighting me."
"...I cannot deny that."
When I was human, I possessed a considerable amount of softness.
Even now, I haven't entirely shaken it off, but back then, it was far more pronounced.
I would have found this situation unbearable.
I would have surely plotted a resolution through dialogue.
As I am now, having become the Demon Lord, I can calmly acknowledge the facts.
It isn't that I've lost my heart.
It's that I've developed the ability to prioritize objectives over personal feelings.
My days as an undead gave me the mental fortitude to push forward, even while wavering.
"I can sense your experience through your sword. You've overcome many hardships. You've saved the world multiple times. As someone who fought alongside you, I'm proud."
She spoke with a fragile expression.
She must have re-experienced my trajectory as the Demon Lord.
At face value, her words were filled with kindness, but in reality, they weren't.
Of course, she wasn't affirming me completely.
One could even say the opposite was true.
In those eyes, an unwavering severity was glimpsed.
I still cannot accept this.
There is no need to dwell on specific incidents now.
These hands were stained with an unfathomable amount of blood.
"Take up your weapon. Let us settle this here."
"---Yes."
I nod, and a pitch-black sword takes form.
Forged from a blend of magic and miasma, it was the exact same shape as the one she held.
Having swung it countless times, mimicking its form was trivial.
As if by unspoken agreement, we both raised our swords simultaneously.
The distance between us was still considerable.
But for us, physical spacing was likely pointless to consider.
It could be erased in an instant.
"It’s a strange sensation. It feels as though I am facing a mirror."
She murmured, seemingly surprised.
The swordsmanship I wield was borrowed from none other than her.
Identical stances were inevitable.
I had always watched that form from her side or from behind.
Never in my wildest dreams, while alive, did I imagine I would face it head-on.
For me, as a human, this situation would be tantamount to a nightmare.
A long silence settled over the scene.
Before making her move, she spoke first.
"Dwight."
"...Yes?"
"Give it everything you have. No holding back between us."
She spoke in a commanding tone.
Her presence brooked no opposition.
Understanding her words, I immediately cast my magic.
Then, I teleported millions of undead to the surrounding area.
These were the reserve forces I had stationed throughout the Demon Lord's territory.
Arranged to encircle us, they had become a wall of bones and rotting flesh.
They were like spectators watching a spectacle.
Taking in the scene that resembled hell, she nodded in admiration.
"As expected of the Sage. Your prowess is as formidable as ever... no, you've grown even stronger."
Her gaze returned to me once more.
The air grew even more taut, and a tingling tension ran through my entire body.
I suppressed it with my willpower.
Radiating a powerful aura, she asked me.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes, fully."
I responded, tightening my grip on the hilt.
She nods slightly, then solemnly declares: "Then, let us begin."