“Good morning, everyone. Your friend says hello.”

I let it roll out in a bright, lazy drawl, like sunlight skimming a still pond.

Silence sheeted over the battlefield, a lid of frost. Every gaze pinned me. No one spoke.

Looks like no one wanted me to be the one who showed up.

I’d tried to look presentable, but no matter the angle, half my body drowned in Shadow. An ominous Long Halberd rested in my hand. An eerie mask caged my face. No matter how you squint, I don’t read as a good guy.

I scratched my head. It couldn’t be helped. Anna wasn’t the sort you swat aside. To give my human allies a decent first impression, I’d already shackled most of my power.

When a Demon King’s true form manifests, it’s too terrible to behold. One glance forces your mind to grasp its evil aspect, then that aspect devours you like a riptide.

To mortals, anything radiant and beautiful points to good and justice. A Demon King’s image is the reverse. If I fought full-throttle, that shape alone would make mortals rethink any alliance.

Either way, my biggest goal is to show goodwill to the mortals here and let the watching Divine Beings taste my sincerity. How many will die after this, and who they are, doesn’t interest me much.

More than lives, I care whether my entrance looks cool.

But this entrance was too rushed, like a banner torn by wind.

I stepped down the hill I’d used for an entrance, moving toward the side of the Heroes and the Divine Being.

One figure came forward, scepter and flail in hand, barring my path. “Who are you?”

Elina… no. That was the voice of Sun. I hadn’t heard anything like “Get lost!” dripping with malice. First impression, not bad.

“I’m a friend of mortals. I’m here to help.”

Someone once said it: villains have no rights. As a villain, being suspected and second-guessed is normal. If that bruised your heart, you wouldn’t last a week in this harsh world.

So I kept the smile, standing at a distance that let Sane feel safe.

Ah. I’m masked. He can’t see me smile. Whatever. After you get used to a deadpan, every smile looks like a knife anyway.

“If you truly came to help, then leave at once. That would help us most.”

“Don’t say that.” I paused there, then flicked my Long Halberd. Clang. A little sickle that came out of nowhere skittered away like a startled sparrow. “You’re undying, omniscient, and omnipotent. You’ll be fine. But the others? They don’t have your authority.”

“I don’t trust you. I trust them.”

“It’s not about trust. Do you have a way to defeat Anna?” I batted away another sneak strike from her, then drove my halberd through her belly and pinned it into the earth. That should keep her quiet a moment.

“…We have—”

“Don’t feed me that hollow talk of resolve. Elina’s body can’t bear your rank. In at most thirty minutes, your pressure will grind her into particles. Even the Divine Art ‘Soul Return Prayer’ won’t help.”

I turned, sweeping my gaze across the heroes like a cold wind.

“Abigail, your organs are a wreck. Your field dressings can’t keep up with this level of exertion. Worse, your muscles—most are torn. If you don’t rest, your path as a warrior ends here.”

“Princess Golia, I know your ‘inner’ is Stable and won’t get hurt. But the Sorcerer Emperor’s craft isn’t as solid as the Creator’s. Your ‘external’ shell is seriously damaged. You know exactly what I mean.”

“Raven, those alchemy bombs were your own mix, right? From what I know, your materials aren’t cheap. A poor soul like you saved for ages to stock them. You’re almost out.”

“Last, Stini.” I slid past Sane’s guard and walked toward the girl whose lips had gone pale from blood loss.

Halfway there, of course, Sane brought his scepter down at my skull like a falling sun.

“I told you—Elina’s body can’t handle your output.”

If it’s sheer physical force, I’m confident I’m beneath no one in the mortal world. If I draw on the power of the Endless Demon King Andreas, even a god of strength would only break even with me.

As an ally, first you show goodwill, show you want an alliance. Then—

Before the sun-bright artifact crushed my skull, I caught it in one hand. My grip locked. The scepter creaked with a teeth-aching grind, then stopped dead, unmoving as a rooted mountain.

—Then you show power. Unequaled, beyond imagining. Let them feel how dangerous you’d be if you weren’t an ally.

Catching a divine artifact barehanded didn’t leave me unscathed. Red hazard flares screamed up my right arm. The Shadow over half my body thickened like ink, pushing back Sane’s power.

My face—right, the mask. As long as my voice doesn’t shake, I still look cool.

“Now you know. If I teamed up with Anna, we could kill all of you in ten seconds. But I am, in fact, a friend.”

I tossed Sane’s scepter aside, crouched at Stini’s side, and whispered in a tone soft as moth wings, so I wouldn’t wake a patient.

“You’re not ‘badly hurt.’ You’re hanging by a breath. That manic focus is slicing your soul. In a moment, even Soul Return Prayer won’t reach you.”

“…Andor?”

Her eyes, ringed with heavy Shadow, blinked at the blur that happened to be me.

“Not Andor—Andor.” I hit the Demon Realm pronunciation. “Rest. Leave this to me.”

I stroked her hair, indulgent as a summer breeze. She purred, a few contented sounds drawn up from her throat.

“…It is Andor… The rest, I’m counting on you…”

Stini pulled a small cross-shaped trinket from her bosom—the Hero Academy’s pocket-dimension anchor—and pressed it into my hand, then drifted into heavy sleep.

This one’s intuition was razor-sharp. She guessed I was Andor, guessed I truly wanted to save the people here, guessed I’d be an ally. She guessed too much, and a Hero’s famed intuition was great advertising for me.

I ruffled her hair again as a reward, tucked the trinket away, then waved to the sky, signaling Saint Mire to take a few of them back.

“No.”

Sane again. Always the trouble.

“I don’t trust you.”

Honestly, I don’t trust the gods either. Head has tricked me more than once.

I had a plan ready for this reaction. Among the Divine Beings, Sane is known as a battle-zealot. He’s harsher on darkness, and harsher on himself.

If I’d been late, he might have led the Hero Squad in a suicidal secret seal on Anna to stop her from butchering civilians.

I worked hard to build these relationships. I’m not letting you burn them all in a group suicide.

If it were only Sane’s nature, it wouldn’t be so bad. The problem is, the others would likely agree. This is the Silver Age. Heroes and sages are everywhere. Everyone’s prepared to die to save the many.

Foolish, dull, clichéd—but not laughable.

That’s why I rushed out without dressing my entrance. I have a plan. I can’t let Sane break it.

“A Hero’s intuition trusts me. Why don’t you?”

“Demonfolk are born toward evil. How are you different from the other Demon Kings?”

Sane narrowed his eyes, like a judge seated on a cloud, measuring my soul. Yes, a Divine Being can do that.

“The difference is this: I want to be an ally of mortals. I respect them. I understand them. I’m not a creature of light, but right now, I still hope you’ll trust me.”

Pinning Anna with my halberd counted as a kind of ritual seal. My rank is just shy of a Divine Being’s. Dragons can turn words into physical traits; a Demon King can do the like.

The feedback pulsing up my beloved halberd grew vicious. Anna was almost free.

Abigail and the others were still torn. Their bodies were done, but spirit and duty chained them here, not knowing which road to take.

I couldn’t talk Sane down fast enough, so—worst-case measure.

I pulled out the cross-shaped pocket anchor and let the Shadow domain seep into it, a slow ink spreading in clear water.

“As I thought… you liar…”

Their shadows swallowed them like open mouths and dropped them into the Hero Academy’s pocket space, neatly into the infirmary. I made the choice for them. Later, if someone asked, “Why didn’t you fight to the last moment?” they could answer with pride, “We were forced.”

Whew. Precision work is tiring. If you can read hearts, know where someone’s stubbornness and values tilt, the planning’s easier than this finger surgery.

“Now, do you trust me?”

Just grumbling out loud. I didn’t expect stubborn Sane to apologize. Let’s let it pass. I still want decent relations with the Divine Beings.

At least, not a swing-on-sight relationship.

Now the field held only Sane riding Elina, me, and Anna.

With Stini outside the mortal space, the extended application of Immunity Privilege, “Throne of Ruin,” winked out. Anna’s materialized body unraveled—black smoke, black liquid, or some nameless black presence—then vanished.

But we all knew she hadn’t left. She’d returned to her origin—cast her soul into the Ocean of Darkness, and let her true body manifest in the world.

“If you don’t trust me, then hide behind me.”

I said it lightly, but inside—

Refuse fast. Team up faster. I can’t solo Anna in this state.

“Hmph. My children don’t need a Demon King to shield them. But—you’re right. Those kids have done enough. Now it’s time for the guardians to move.”

Sane still wouldn’t look at me straight on, but he stepped to my side. He lifted flail and scepter. Together, we leveled our weapons at Anna, like twin lances aimed at a storm.