The battlefield fell silent.
Only the wind whispered—like something was laughing, but failing at it.
"Well," Alzareth said, dusting off his hands, "The horny guy's gone, we're still alive, and the environment is only now… what? Eighty percent infertile? I call that a win. Now let's head to Bricklewhacker, Brickenwacker—Bricklevangelion—whatever the hell that town is called."
I stared at him, equal parts amazed and emotionally damaged.
"No way you just brushed off that whole world-ending fight like it was a Sunday afternoon."
"But Sam," he said earnestly, "it is Sunday."
"Beyond the fact this world somehow copied my old calendar—WHY ARE YOU SO CALM? A high-class demon just vanished into a fog machine after threatening us with goth poetry."
"Yeah," he nodded. "As I said earlier, pretty ominous."
"DUDE. He could attack at any time! You know—like a jump scare! Aren't you wor— actually, nevermind, that's a stupid question to ask you."
"Don't worry, Sam. Nothing's gonna happen. That demon dude is probably already back home, sipping devil wine in his floating bachelor pad or something. I'm practically certain he won't come back for us aga—"
Then—a ripple of black mist appeared.
A shimmer at Alzareth's back.
Alzareth didn't turn.
His leg snapped backward faster than a synapse firing.
CRACK.
Alyknor flew out of the mist like a baseball shattering metaphorical home plates.
Alzareth sighed.
"Okay, correction. He's back for seconds at the ass-whooping diner."
Alyknor reformed midair—vanishing into mist, reappearing above.
A fist waited for him.
Then a knee.
Then another kick.
Each time he emerged, Alzareth was already there.
No hesitation. No mercy.
It was like watching inevitability bully speed.
Alyknor staggered midair, armor cracked, energy sputtering.
"Impossible! My dimension cannot be perceived!"
Alzareth stood on a floating foothold of azure mana, staring at him like a disappointed landlord.
"Your dimension? Yeah," he said. "You? No."
Alyknor lunged again through the mist—Alzareth met him with a rising kick that turned him into a projectile.
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—BOOM.
Each hit sent Alyknor ricocheting through the sky like he was in a pinball machine.
Every collision split the air with thunderous shockwaves that painted the clouds in streaks of blue and black.
Alyknor then caught himself midair, breathing heavily, face twisted in humiliation.
He spread his arms. The shadows trembled.
"Very well. Then face them, if you dare."
The air split open.
From the black mist, six silhouettes emerged—tall, faceless, each wielding a distortion-bleeding blade.
"Art of Darkness: Seven Deadly Sinners!"
I peeked from behind the rock I had spontaneously adopted as my legal guardian.
"Did he—did he just do the Shadow Clone Jutsu?"
The six soldiers stood in perfect silence.
Alyknor spread his arms dramatically.
"Behold, child of dragon! This is my ultimate technique—my masterpiece of shadowcraft! Each soldier is forged through decades of siphoning abyssal mana, weaving blood rites, and refining darkness into living form. Perfect replicas of me in strength, speed, and precision! They might not cast any spells, but each wields a Blade of Annihilation and thinks independently to erase all who dare oppose me! TREMBLE BEFORE THE MAJESTY OF—"
Alzareth blinked. "…Why are there six?"
Alyknor flinched. "What!?"
"You said seven deadly sinners. That's six."
"Oh. Well, I count as the seventh."
"Oh… well… okay."
"What? You have a problem with that?"
"I mean… it's kinda misleading. The name implies seven summon guys, not a six-pack and you standing there like the world's angriest team captain."
"It makes perfect sense, you imbecile! Six shadows plus me—seven!"
"Nah, I'm not buying it."
"How do you not 'buy' objective math!? We are—all together—seven!"
"They don't look like you, man. They're silhouettes with swords. If I used this spell, mine would look like every dude with depression and a cloak."
"Ridiculous! Anyone can see their elegant outline mirrors my magnificence."
"Dude, your horns are doing 90% of the work. Without them it's just six tall black guys with swords who look like they assault people in alleyways."
"I—WHAT!? That's not— Why would you say it like that!?"
"And honestly? You called it 'Seven Deadly Sinners' just so you could reference the seven deadly sins and sound cool."
"You guys got that too?" I (Sam) shouted from the edge of the field.
"AHAHAHAHA! Such arrogance! Such idiocy! I only call it that because I complete the group! It is pure logic!"
"Wait."
"What now!?"
"You said you make them beforehand by stuffing your mana into the distortion realm, right?"
"Yes."
"And you regenerate mana later, right?"
"That is correct."
"So… nothing stops you from making more than seven when you're not fighting?"
"..."
"Well?"
"SOLDIERS! DESTROY HIM!"
Then they moved.
All at once.
Sharper. Faster. Meaner than before.
The world dissolved into distortion-blades and collapsing sound.
Alzareth didn't flinch.
In fact, he dropped low and suddenly started breakdancing while evading every single strike like he was trying to unlock a secret skin in Just Dance 3.
Alyknor stared.
Actual, raw disbelief on his face.
And once again during this entire apocalyptic battle… I got hyped.
"HOLY SHIT, ALZARETH! THAT'S SICK AS HELL! OH MY GOD—YOU'RE SPINNING THAT THING LIKE A STRIPPER TRYING TO PAY RENT!"
Then, Alzareth switched to offense.
The shadows blitzed at speeds hundreds of times faster than lightning—Yet, he hit all of them mid-charge.
One punch. One kick. One backhand.
Each strike folded a soldier like a lawn chair in a hurricane.
First—blue shockwave.
Second—vanished.
Third—burst into vapor.
Fourth, fifth, sixth—erased.
Seconds later, all six were gone.
Silence.
Alyknor trembled.
He extended his hands, chanting as dark mana swarmed.
"Arise! Reclaim form! Feed upon my essence!"
The soldiers began to reform—slow, agonized.
His body shook.
Half his energy drained just forcing them back.
When the last silhouette reappeared, he dropped to one knee.
"There… now you—"
Snap.
Alzareth flicked a finger.
A single wave of soft azure flame drifted across the horizon.
All six soldiers ignited in blue fire and dissolved silently.
Alyknor froze.
No scream.
Just grief and disbelief.
"…Do you understand what you've destroyed?" he whispered.
"It took me a century to forge them. My blood… my devotion… my—"
"Should've kept the receipt," Alzareth said.
Something broke inside Alyknor.
"YOU WRETCHED CREATURE! YOU WASTE OF LIGHT AND BREATH!"
Alzareth yawned.
"Getting nostalgic here."
At this point, I couldn't tell if Alzareth was fighting a demon general or verbally assassinating him.
The guy just lost his life's work, and my dude hit him with customer service energy.
The ground started trembling again as Alyknor's rage reached critical.
His horns flared, his veins glowed, and the mist began to scream.
"You will regret every breath you took in my presence!"
Alzareth rolled his shoulders.
"Been regretting those since breakfast."
Alyknor stood hunched, shaking, steam rising from his cracked armor.
His once-gleaming horns flickered dimly, like dying candles.
He looked at his hands. Trembling. Bleeding black light.
Then he reached inside his chestplate — slow, ceremonial — and pulled out a small, glowing crystal.
It pulsed red like a heart that had forgotten mercy.
"… We're selling jewelry now?" Alzareth said.
Alyknor looked up, eyes burning violet tears.
His voice was soft now — reverent, trembling with something close to grief.
"This crystal was entrusted to me by my king… on the day the Demon Empire fell."
"It contains the last ember of his power — the true will of the Abyss."
He closed his hand around it. The crystal cracked.
Black lightning shot out in tendrils, stabbing into the ground, ripping through reality like living veins.
"With this… I call upon the inheritance of the Demon King himself."
His voice deepened — multiplied.
"From the unholy scriptures of the Monastery Below… within the forbidden vaults sealed by gods and devils alike…"
"I invoke thee—"
The ground exploded in spirals of shadow. The air turned viscous, heavy, sublime.
"Art of Darkness: Forbidden Invocation — Black Nebula!"
I gazed at the madness of the unholy horror show that was unfolding before my eyes.
"We're screwed, arent' we?"
The space behind Alyknor collapsed into a sphere — pitch-black, shrieking like a dying sun.
Every atom in the air began to bend toward it, screaming against its pull.
The sphere grew more and more dense. Feeding upon demonic energy, swelling into a roiling, pulsating orb of annihilation — a singularity made of spite.
Alyknor's voice echoed like ten choirs screaming through metal.
"This is the power of Hell itself!"
"Not even your Z-Class divinity can dismiss it!"
"This beam could sunder worlds, erase stars, reduce divinities to ash!"
He raised his hands — his body trembling from the sheer energy he was holding back.
Cracks split the air. Lightning of shadow clawed at the sky.
"Witness the might of the Demon King's final will!"
I screamed in total terror.
"He's literally monologuing a continental war crime! ALZARETH, YOU GOTTA STOP HIM BEFORE HE FIRES IT!"
"Nah," Alzareth said. "let him cook."
"STOP USING MY WORLD'S GEN Z SLANG ALREADY!"
Alyknor roared — and released it.
"PERISH WITH THE ASHES! ARMAGEDDON UNCHAINED! BLACK NEBULAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"
A column of pure dark energy erupted forth, faster than thunder, wider than your dead grandmother, stretching as far as the sky itself.
It shredded the air, tore through the earth, shattered what was left of the sound barrier the microsecond it was released, surpassing the speed of light several times over as it kept accelerating.
The mass of negative energy screamed across the horizon — a cosmic scythe erasing all matter in its way.
However.
Despite all that.
Alzareth didn't move.
He raised one leg —and kicked.
One, casual, effortless kick.
The entire beam curved upward.
It shot into the sky like it redirected god's tantrum, tearing through the stratosphere with a howl that deafened space itself.
Far, far beyond the sky — somewhere in the deep cosmic void — the stray beam kept going.
Through galaxies.
Through asteroid belts.
Until, after five million light-years, it reached a celestial body.
A titan of a world.
Eighteen times the mass of Jupiter and double its size.
Atmosphere dense with ammonia storms and diamond rain.
Home to an ecosystem so massive, its toxic hurricanes lasted centuries.
The beam touched it — for a fraction of a second.
And then it was fucking gone.
No explosion.
No light.
No debris.
Just… erased from existence.
And thus, the planet Rhovagis Prime — the first brown dwarf ever recorded by the mage-astronomers of the Seventh Era, Yolzaman Irankus — ceased to exist.
Total energy output: 2.8 × 1040 joules.
Casualties: irrelevant.
Back on the battlefield, Alyknor stared at the empty sky.
His arms fell limp at his sides.
"...I…"
"That… that was the power of the Demon King."
He started laughing — hysterical, broken, wet.
Then he dropped to his knees.
"Do you understand what I've done? What I've wasted?"
"His will, his glory, his divinity… and it amounted to nothing."
He punched the ground.
Over and over.
Each hit weaker than the last.
"I trained for centuries… served faithfully… endured exile, war, madness—"
"—and I cannot even touch you."
And then, out of nowhere, the once-proud general of the Abyss began to cry.
Real tears — liquid and transparent, glowing faintly as they fell into the dirt.
For a long time, nobody spoke.
Alyknor's sobs echoed across the cracked grassland.
Alzareth and I just… stood there.
Two idiots who accidentally bullied a hyper-lethal demon noble into an existential meltdown.
He kept crying harder. Louder.
"…This is pretty awkward," Alzareth muttered.
"Yeah," I whispered back. "I didn't expect him to break down like this. Especially after being so angry earlier."
Alyknor let out an agonized wail.
Alzareth winced.
We both winced.
The demon's sobbing somehow got worse.
Now we just felt responsible.
Very responsible.
Alzareth nudged me with his elbow.
"Yo dude, can't you cheer him up or something?"
"What? Why me?" I hissed. "You're the reason he's crying!"
"Exactly," Alzareth said, deadpan. "I don't know how to handle this stuff. Aren't you the sociable one out of the two of us? Just try something."
"Oh for god's sake…"
I exhaled, steeling myself for what might be the single most ridiculous thing I've done since arriving in this stupid fantasy world.
I cautiously approached, trying to figure out how to console a seven-foot-tall demonic warlord who just had an existential breakdown.
"Uh… hey buddy," I said, voice cracking. "H-Hey. Look. You, uh… you did great out there. Really."
Alyknor's sobbing paused for a single second.
He looked up at me with red, puffy, glowing eyes.
"…L–Lies…" he sniffed.
"No no, I mean it!" I said, hands raised. "Like—like look, man! You were terrifying! Super cool! That whole Black Nebula thing? Dude, that was heavy-metal album cover material. If I saw that back home, I'd have shat myself. In awe! In awe-shitting!"
Alyknor blinked with tears in his eyes.
Alzareth nodded behind me like he was validating a toddler's drawing.
"Yeah. For real," he added. "You looked metal as hell."
I jabbed a finger at him.
"SEE? Even he agrees!"
Alyknor sniffled again, still devastated, still trembling…
but something in his expression softened. Even if just a little.
His voice was hoarse. Aristocratic cracks running through each word.
"…I… spent… over a century shaping those shadows…"
"…decades forging each soldier… the World of Distortion itself… my king's crystal… my oaths…"
"…and it all amounted to nothing…"
He clutched his head, fingers digging into his hair.
"My king entrusted me with kindness… with purpose… and I failed even his last will. I— I squandered everything on a foe I cannot even graze."
The demon's voice faltered.
Something painfully human flickered through it.
I swallowed.
"…Alyknor," I said, kneeling down beside him. "Look—don't… don't compare yourself to guys like Alzareth. Or Z-class freaks in general. Those dudes are basically walking causality events with personality issues."
Alzareth shrugged.
"I suppose."
"You're strong," I continued. "Insanely strong. Just—different league opponents, you know?"
"…Different league?" Alyknor repeated, wiping a glowing tear.
"Yeah," I said. "Like… don't measure your worth using Dragonball Z power-scaling. That's not fair to anyone except psychopaths and people allergic to women."
Alyknor stared at me.
Confused.
But calmer.
Inside his mind, something shifted.
A mortal… relating to me? Comforting me?
Such warmth… like my king once held. A rare quality among demons… yet this human shows it without fear.
Curious… so curious… perhaps humanity… is not the shallow, barbaric, fragile cacophony I believed…
He exhaled shakily.
"…Sam," he said quietly. "You are… strange. But… strangely gentle."
"Thanks?" I said.
He nodded.
Then he added something that made me freeze inside:
"You remind me of my king."
"Okay," I said. "That's terrifying, but I'll take it."
He sniffled again.
The mood was dipping too deep.
Time for nuclear-option cheer-up protocol.
I lifted my hand, spoke the divine phrase and hit purchase on my trustworthy Online Package Delivery interface catalogue:
"WAMAZON—Express Drop."
A cardboard box poofed into reality and landed at my feet.
Alyknor stared at it like a caveman encountering Jesus.
I tore it open dramatically.
Inside?
A CD player with some speakers.
From my old world.
I laid down the entire thing on the scorched earth like a picnic table.
Then clicked play.
Heavy guitars kicked in.
Rob Halford screamed from the heavens.
Alyknor's eyes widened.
His pupils dilated.
His whole demonic aura began vibrating like a tuning fork.
"…What… what is this…?" he whispered.
"Judas Priest," I said. "Human battle music from a place called earth."
Alyknor stood up.
Straightened his back.
Shadow aura flared—synchronizing with the riff.
"…This… this is what mortals listen to before combat?"
"Some do, I guess."
"This is GLORIOUS."
He threw his head back and let out a triumphant, unhinged laugh.
Alzareth grinned.
"He understands the culture."
The demon noble—moments ago an existentially shattered husk—was now subtly headbanging.
"I adore this," Alyknor declared. "Truly! Humanity's artistry is far more bloodthirsty than I expected!"
"Yeah," I said. "We're pretty metal."
Alzareth sighed and walked past us.
"Man, I don't even care anymore. I'm taking a nap."
He collapsed backward onto the grass and instantly fell asleep. Loudly.
By the time the song ended, Alyknor looked at the two of us before looking at the sky where he fired the planet destroying beam.
"…I should return to the Demon Realm," he said quietly. "And report that negotiations have… shifted. Perhaps… humanity deserves reconsideration. Acceptance, even."
"Tell them to chill," I said. "And you can take the device with you. It's got like thirty more heavy-metal CDs loaded in the side compartment."
Alyknor blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Three times now.
His jaw trembled—not in sadness this time, but in stunned reverence.
"…You… would gift this to me?" he whispered.
"This mortal… shrine of thunder… this relic that summons war-chants at the press of a sacred rune?"
"It's just a CD player with some speakers, man."
Alyknor placed one clawed hand over his chestplate and bowed deeply—like a noble receiving a royal blessing.
"Your kindness will be remembered, Sam of Earth."
He lifted the stereo with both hands, almost ceremonially.
He jumped slightly, then held it even more gently.
Inside his mind… a memory etched itself with divine clarity.
The king… the only one who ever gifted me anything.
Now this human… follows that same path.
Acts of goodwill with no expectation of return.
Rare… impossible… precious.
This mortal is unlike the others.
Perhaps unlike any being I have met since my king himself.
A vortex of black mist swirled open behind him.
Dark petals of shadow rose from the earth.
"I shall repay this kindness one day," he said—voice firm, oathbound.
He stepped through the portal and vanished.
Silence.
Then—
The carriage driver and horse finally woke up behind us.
The driver rubbed his eyes.
"Wha—huh—WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THE ENVIRONMENT!?"
I turned around and smiled.
"Oh, that? Nothing much. You know. Normal stuff."
Alzareth snored in the background.
Then the horse fainted again.