“You must be the messengers sent by the gods.”
The master of evil, as the Long had called him, was thankfully more skilled in theatrics than the Long itself.
‘Or is it not an act?’
He resembled a human in form, but was far larger. It only seemed less obvious because the Long itself was so massive—but even so, the master appeared to be at least two meters tall. Two meters fifty? Sixty? Satin, slightly dazed, found himself fixating on the details.
“I am the god of all that you never welcome, yet can never escape.”
The master of evil stepped lightly on the tip of the Long’s snout and leapt upward. His long black hair trailed behind him like slow-moving smoke. His robes fluttered strangely, like ink bleeding through water.
Satin swallowed dryly at the sight.
‘Why does he feel… scary?’
There was an uncanny pressure radiating from the figure. Though he wasn’t acting overly dramatic, every one of his movements appeared larger than life.
The Long that had moments ago kept the group on edge now seemed like nothing more than a blue velvet carpet laid out for this figure.
“Hatred and loathing, fear and terror, anxiety and despair, depression and ruin…”
Satin instinctively recoiled. The words being spoken felt as though they were taking shape, sending chills down his spine. They were all familiar feelings. His heart rate spiked, and his hands turned cold.
‘Is this some kind of magic, too?’
He cautiously glanced at the others’ faces.
Rita’s face had gone pale. He’d never once seen her frightened, but now she looked petrified. Edward was the same—his expression remained stern, but his hand trembled around the hilt of his sword. It was clear both of them had sensed something, just as Satin had.
‘What about Cain?’
Before he could see Cain’s face, Satin was pulled backward. As always, Cain grabbed him and pulled him behind.
He didn’t get a chance to see Cain’s expression.
“Don’t step in.”
“Doesn’t it feel dangerous even if I don’t?”
“…Still. Stay back.”
Cain’s voice, usually so firm, now carried a hint of hesitation.
‘No…’
It wasn’t hesitation—it was closer to unease. Whatever that figure had said, it had shaken even Cain.
Satin stood beside him. Cain immediately furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to speak, but Satin was quicker.
“There’s really no difference between standing beside you or behind you.”
“Haa…”
Cain let out a sigh and gave up, turning his gaze back to the front.
By then, the master of evil had stepped down onto the dusty ground. His voice, brimming with authority from an unknown origin, continued to proclaim his identity.
“Humans call me the one unworthy of being the gods’ adversary, and thus, unworthy of worship.”
So, is it all just theatrics? Or not? Did the High Priest really receive a divine oracle?
“A name far too long—so let’s keep it simple.”
The master of evil smiled faintly and looked down at Rita, who stood at the front.
“Call me the Demon God.”
And just like that, the rumors of the Demon God’s appearance were proven true. Whether that bizarre, uncanny figure was the real Demon God didn’t matter. His voice echoed far and wide, reaching even those who dared not approach. That was all that truly mattered.
“Isn’t he way out of the Demon King’s league?”
Even with her face white as a sheet, Rita had the guts to speak up.
“Of course. Can a king ever be compared to a god?”
A valid point. A king is human, and not a singular one. As many kings exist as there are nations and histories. You can’t just hear the word “king” and expect everyone to picture the same person.
A god, on the other hand, is one and only. While this world’s religion might not be familiar, at least in this country, the dominant faith wasn’t polytheistic. There had been only one god in the past, one god now, and likely, there would be one god in the future. And that god—always the same.
In that context, it made sense why the Demon King had never felt all that threatening.
“If you are messengers of the gods, then surely you wish to prove that I cannot stand against them.”
That line signaled the beginning of the battle.
Graciously, the Demon God chose not to rely on the Long and stepped forward to fight himself. As he extended his arm, his black sleeves fluttered. From his pale fingertips, a thick, dark energy resembling fog and sinister smoke began to rise.
Spotting faint particles of light forming within the dark energy, Satin shouted in alarm.
“Get back!”
Rita rolled aside just in time. The spot where she’d stood only moments ago was instantly frozen over. Edward narrowly avoided the same fate. As the ice shot out radially from where the Demon God stood, both Rita and Edward were forced to scatter in opposite directions.
Cain and Satin were no exceptions to the danger. Cain shoved Satin with such force that he tumbled across the ground.
“Ugh…”
His skin burned from scraping against the rough earth, but it was a far better outcome than being turned into an ice sculpture. Satin quickly scrambled to his feet and checked his surroundings.
Jagged ice pillars now blocked him from reaching the rest of the group. From beyond the frozen barrier, Cain called out.
“Satin, are you okay?”
“I’m fine! What about you?”
“Get back!”
Cain didn’t answer the question—instead, he barked a command. Satin instinctively stepped back just as a blaze erupted in front of him. The fire didn’t completely melt the ice that had separated them, but it was enough to clear their line of sight.
Both Rita and Edward were unharmed. After confirming Cain’s position, Rita shouted out.
“Cover me!”
Without waiting for a response, she rushed forward. Edward immediately dashed after her and grabbed her arm, practically hurling her back.
“What are you doing?!”
“You’re a mage! Why the hell are you charging in?!”
Edward snapped, then gave her no time to argue. Drawing his sword, he bolted forward.
‘Why is the healer the one charging in…?’
Satin blinked, stunned, but Cain was already reacting—raising a wall of fire with swift precision. The gathered light of his magic flared into a blazing red barrier as he sprinted forward with Edward.
The Demon God made no move to evade, even as Edward charged straight at him, wreathed in flames. Watching with an unhurried gaze, he muttered,
“Fire magic suits humans well. Passion and impulse both resemble fire—burning through everything in their path until there’s nothing left.”
“Haaah!”
With a cry, Edward leapt into the air, sword raised high. The Demon God didn’t even chant—he summoned ice again, standing motionless.
The ice surged upward, clashing against the fire. It melted, then refroze, again and again.
But in the end, ice prevailed. Cain’s flames fizzled out, and Edward’s blade struck the frozen barrier. Thankfully, he managed to avoid being impaled—he was flung backward instead, crashing into the ground.
No one believed a single strike would end the fight. And just as Edward’s back hit the earth, Rita hurled a fire arrow straight at the Demon God.
“In contrast, ice is just so… pitiful. It melts, then refreezes, and then melts again,” he said with a sneer.
“Then maybe it should just evaporate already!”
Rita snapped, flinging more fire arrows in quick succession. Satin couldn’t help thinking—
‘It’s not going to work.’
Compared to Cain’s fire wall, Rita’s arrows were tiny. If the bigger spell didn’t work, there was little hope for these.
As expected, the Demon God swatted them away with a mere flick of his sleeve. The flames vanished, and droplets from the melted ice spattered across the ground.
“So then—is it my turn now?”
His gaze casually swept over each of the challengers, eventually landing on Satin.
“There’s still one left. Why haven’t you stepped forward?”
Did he think they were playing a turn-based RPG?
Satin was speechless.
If he truly intended to do nothing, why had he even come here? And if he felt too ashamed, like he’d taken someone else’s place, why hadn’t he just run away?
“Don’t overthink it.”
Cain pulled the frozen Satin behind him and raised another spell. A taller wall of fire erupted in front of them.
“You already saw that won’t work,” the Demon God said.
He didn’t even bother bracing for it—he’d already repelled that spell once before. And so, he failed to notice Edward charging in from behind the blaze.
But Rita wasn’t about to let him figure it out.
“You’re trying to sweet-talk my friend into turning against us, huh?!”
She shouted something absurd and pointed her hand at the Demon God. As her lips moved in silent incantation, the melted water pooling at her feet surged upward into a spinning vortex.
“Oh.”
A quiet murmur escaped the Demon God’s lips—not alarm, but mild curiosity. The spiral was small, unimpressive in scale.
‘Looks like a glorified sprinkler…’
If her intent had been to harm him, it was a poor choice of spell. But Rita wasn’t aiming for his body—she was after his attention.
While the Demon God scoffed at the feeble water magic, Edward reached the edge of the fire wall—right behind him.
As Edward thrust his blade toward the Demon God’s back, the flames finally died down. Only then did the Demon God realize someone was behind him—but it was already too late.
“Tch.”
With a soft click of his tongue, the Demon God stepped back. Ice burst from the ground in that instant.
Truly, a god was a god. Religious doctrine might call him a false idol, but even so, he wasn’t someone a mere human could compare to.
They thought he’d noticed Edward too late—but in truth, it had been exactly as he planned.
“Guh…”
In the blink of an eye, Edward was sent flying. A blade of ice had erupted from beneath and pierced through his side. It struck his left flank—finding the tiny gap in his armor with eerie precision.
It hadn’t pierced his abdomen, at least, which was fortunate. But considering the amount of blood now pouring from him, it still looked grim.
“Edward!”
