A steel vessel advances through the desert, firing its cannons.
Against the rapidly approaching shell, I twist mid-flight to evade.
However, the projectile executes a sharp turn behind me, spiraling back to strike.
Black mist leaks from it, indicating enchantments have been incorporated.
I perform a backflip in midair, avoiding the shell once more.
I channel a forbidden spell into it, encasing the projectile in black ice.
The malfunctioning shell plummets, striking the tank directly beneath it and causing a massive explosion.
(Tracking rounds are troublesome...)
As I gaze down at the burning tank, I sense killing intent from the side.
An iron bird is charging straight at me.
According to John’s boasting, it’s a weapon called a fighter jet.
John and Balk are onboard.
Seated in the cockpit, their eyes burn with intensity.
The cannons mounted on the jet spat fire.
I deflect the bullets with my magic sword.
The sword shatters it an instant, but I can regenerate it as many times as needed, so it’s no problem.
The bullets’ speed is easy enough to track.
The jet ceases fire and continues its charge directly toward me.
It shows no sign of stopping.
It intends to collide at full speed.
I evaded the fighter jet as though slipping through it, cleaving its underside in two with my magic sword.
The jet passed through, trailed black smoke, and plummeted, disintegrating mid-air.
Explosions erupted before it crashed into the desert.
Normally, both occupants would have died instantly, but they would revive nearby shortly after.
It had become such a familiar scene that I was certain of it.
More than half a day had passed since the battle began.
We were still fighting and killing each other.
John and Balk had died hundreds of times, yet they calmly came back to life.
And without ever growing tired of it, they charged at me again.
Meanwhile, I hadn't died even once.
Gwen had warned me partway through that, unlike them, I apparently couldn't revive.
Of course, because it was her saying it, I couldn't trust every word, but it was probably true.
I could sense that much, on some level.
This was a spiritual world—a special, peculiar space.
Unlike Gwen, who could move freely in and out, or John and the others, who lacked physical bodies in reality, I was subject to certain constraints.
The kind that meant I couldn't enter without first destroying my physical body in the real world.
I couldn't deny the situational disadvantage.
In any case, it was certain that I should not die.
So I fought with the utmost caution.
Thanks to that, I had never been pushed into a desperate corner.
I've figured out John and Balk's general tactics.
They attack with overwhelming firepower, fearless of death.
By fighting with reckless abandon, they're aiming to exhaust me or drain my magic.
It's an extremely effective and solid strategy.
However, this time, that tactic is meaningless.
They've misjudged my abilities as the Demon King.
I receive a permanent supply of magic and miasma from the Valley of the Dead.
This holds true even in the spiritual world, allowing me to cast powerful spells almost endlessly.
In other words, fatigue and magic depletion don't exist for me.
As long as I remain vigilant, I won't die from their attacks.
They've used a few trump cards, but I've managed to counter each one.
Once you know their hand, all that's left is to respond steadily.
The battle is turning in my favor.
On the other hand, John and Balk were beginning to show clear signs of panic.
For a while now, their fighting has become sloppy, and their attacks repetitive.
They, too, seem to sense the dire situation.
Gwen was also watching the flow of the battle with a bewildered expression.
She looked visibly annoyed, but when she noticed my gaze, she flashed me a deliberately exaggerated smile.
It seemed like she was hiding something.
I'm curious about what it might be, but making contact is difficult right now.
As long as John and Balk are present to interfere, it would be unwise to act.
Gwen, for now, also showed no signs of joining the fray.
If all three attacked simultaneously, things would become even more troublesome.
The current situation was actually favorable for me.
(But I'm getting ready to make my move soon.)
Floating in the air, I pondered while deflecting the barrage of weapons.
John and Balk's attention was scattering, their movements growing sloppy.
Gwen was also bored and showed no intention of providing support.
Even if they were undying, there were countless ways to handle such opponents.
During the quest to slay the Demon Lord, I had fought such enemies many times.
By understanding their tactics and combat habits, the chances of failure were extremely low.
Now would be a good time to turn this troublesome situation around.