(Strong. Beyond imagination.)
As I deflected attacks without pause, a groan escaped within my chest.
The power I now possessed was incomparable to what I’d held as a human.
Having become the Demon Lord and shattered countless formidable foes, I could now trample even the beasts that festered beyond the world.
Yet, she sought to surpass such an existence.
She forced the battle to a level beyond equality, and at times, seemed ready to overwhelm me.
She even performed the remarkable feat of sweeping aside miasma with nothing but her sword.
Normally, slashing at miasma would be meaningless.
It would only proceed to corrode her blade and her arm.
But in reality, the clash ended with the miasma’s annihilation.
Theory was abandoned, and a favorable outcome was drawn forth.
It was likely that the will of the world, woven into her, had manifested its nature.
It had pushed the Hero’s swordsmanship into the realm beyond reason.
I reinforced my own body and accelerated my thoughts.
Through this, I resisted her ferocious assault.
I occasionally tried to interject a magical counter, but each was severed and nullified.
Her intuition was abnormally sharp.
Spells were disrupted before they could even activate.
(Tough……)
A thrust from a sharp angle came lunging at me.
I managed to deflect it, but the tip grazed the bone of my neck. I threw my head back violently to avoid the beheading. In that instant, she released one hand from her sword and grabbed the sheath at her hip. I understood what was about to happen and tried to transfer in a panic, but she flashed the sheath with a speed that surpassed even unincarnated spellcasting. The blow from the sheath shattered my wrist. I dropped my sword from the force. When I lifted my lowered gaze, she was there, raising her sword. (—Too fast.) The sword swung down, cleaving me vertically from the head. As that sensation hit, my vision went black. In the next moment, I was watching her from afar. "…………" I silently looked down at my body. The rotting flesh clinging to the bones was burning, and the bones themselves were beginning to turn black. The me that had been destroyed by that single blow had revived from one of the outer ring's undead. In the pouring rain, she was staring at me. Her mouth formed a question. "Are you still going to continue?" "…Of course."
I step forward and summon a new sword. Comparing my current self to her, I have one advantage: I can revive. She was merely human. Her soul is indestructible and can regenerate even if destroyed, but her physical body will meet its end. In contrast, I have numerous bodies prepared. There is no need to fear death. I shall demonstrate the way the undead fights.