“Speak.”

Hades’ voice echoed across the electrified plain. Denesor marveled. Few humans could exert their strength unconsciously in the land of demons and remain unscathed.

Well, whether this brat was truly unscathed was debatable.

‘I won’t last long.’

It didn’t matter.

The more Hades Croitner’s sanity crumbled, the more advantageous it was for him.

He would gain the world’s most powerful puppet that he could control freely.

“Speak, now.”

Power flowed into Hades’ hand, gripping not the hilt but the blade of the sword, casting a chill over all of Denesor. Inside, Denesor screamed. Control your strength, you brute!

“……”

Hades’ icy gaze settled on Denesor. It wasn’t difficult for a seasoned sword like Denesor to grasp the situation. Hades had clearly heard the exclamation he just made.

Yet, Hades showed no reaction. He only pressured Denesor with his overwhelming gaze.

Startled by an emotion he had not felt in nearly a thousand years, Denesor let out a scream.

“Ah! Ow! Ouch! You bastard!”

Teias Silver was a technique that allowed a weapon of great power to selfdestruct using its own strength.

Using that on the sword in his own hand?

It was equivalent to saying he would destroy it.

Who in their right mind would destroy their ancestral sword, not the weapon of an enemy?

But Hades Croitner was a man of excess. To be more precise, Hades Croitner, who had lost Angelica, was a man of excess.

Denesor had watched this brat since he was toddling around.

The Donovan Dukes had guarded the sacred, albeit ominous, sword for generations. Even the previous, foolish Duke had fulfilled this duty. Hades had been deeply indoctrinated since he started to toddle.

‘One must protect the sacred sword.’

Breaking free from such constant indoctrination from a young age was not easy.

Perhaps that was why Hades accepted Angelica so readily. Denesor thought it was partly due to that indoctrination.

Not to seize the sword but to protect it, which in turn led him to choose to protect Angelica herself.

Therefore, Hades destroying or abandoning him was nearly impossible.

After all, the identity of the Donovan Dukes was nearly synonymous with the sword.

Who would throw away their identity?

But…

‘Unexpected.’

Denesor conceded defeat. Not regarding Hades, but Angelica.

That ordinary saint had become even more crucial to Hades than his deeplyrooted identity from childhood.

“Stop, stop, I’m talking!”

As he screamed, the pain disappeared. Hades said nothing, only staring down at Denesor. But the implication was clear.

Speak now, or else.

“……Kill the Demon King. And seize the Demon’s Eye. With that power, saving one human life should be trivial.”

“How can I believe that?”

“I saw it.”

Denesor answered without hesitation.

“At that time, the one who had the Demon’s Eye was… the grand sorcerer of that era. I saw him clearly revive his dead grandson.”

“If it’s useless?”

“Then it’s useless. But I’m only telling you what I’ve seen.”

Denesor was not lying. Indeed, the grand sorcerer of that time had used the Demon’s Eye to revive his grandson.

But what Denesor did not say was the story’s hidden layer.

The Demon’s Eye demanded a price, and the grand sorcerer had become a Demon King as a result—a story long forgotten.

The chances of knowing that story in the backwater of Donovan were slim.

And even if Hades did remember, given his current state, he was likely not to care about the cost.

“……Fine.”

Denesor smiled.
But to Hades, the sword’s smile was incomprehensible in human terms, appearing merely as a flashing blade.

(This is a time delimiter.)

The first thought that came to mind upon regaining consciousness was, ‘Where am I?’

It was natural.

Only unfamiliar objects caught my eye.

Instead of traditional wooden furniture, there were dull metal pieces, a hard, carpetless floor, and gray wallpaper—all profoundly alien to me.

‘Wait, those are…’

My eyes narrowed. The cylindrical metal cups adorned with colorful designs seemed strangely familiar.

‘…Cups?’

My head throbbed. They didn’t look like cups at all. Maybe they resembled cylindrical wooden toys for kids.

Yet, why did those feel like cups…

“Ugh, ugh!”

I rushed to the bathroom and emptied the contents of my stomach into the sink. It was just a little vomit, but my insides still felt scorched.

‘I need to take a digestive medicine.’

The next moment, my face twisted again.

‘What is digestive medicine?’

Even the space I currently occupied felt out of place. A bathtub, a toilet, a sink—I understood what they were, but why were all these differently functioning pieces of furniture confined to such a narrow space?

I shivered.

I wanted to escape this familiar yet foreign space as soon as possible.

And above all…

‘Hades.’

I wanted to see Hades.

But I knew intuitively that Hades wasn’t here. He and I had become utterly distanced.

To see Hades again…

‘…Ah.’

As if a floodgate had opened, memories poured into my mind.

Yes, this was my world.

This dull room was mine.