Norris gazed down disdainfully at Ink Ash, frozen like a statue below him. With absolute confidence in the ultimate art he’d perfected over a lifetime, he declared proudly,

“I’ll admit you’re strong. But your greatest mistake? Overconfidence. Let me finish the Symphony of Fire—prepare to die calmly!”

“Hey, you know what?”

Ink Ash glanced at him calmly, speaking softly and unhurriedly.

“Any last words—what?!”

The words died on his lips. Before the Archmage’s eyes, the sight shattered him into stunned silence.

Ink Ash’s cold, emotionless eyes regarded Norris like a corpse. His indifferent face still wore a bright smile—as if watching a clown’s act.

“Repeating the same lines gets boring. But seeing arrogant fools like you? I always want to stomp on them.”

He raised his arm like a spear, palm facing the sky—as if grasping the boundless heavens.

Squinting at the three apocalyptic spectacles seconds from crushing him, Ink Ash leisurely closed his fingers. His movements were graceful, natural.

*Crack! Crack! Crack!!*

The grating distortion poured into Norris’s ears—a deafening noise that could break ordinary minds.

But the true horror was what he saw.

Stunned, he watched his high-tier magic twist and compress into nothingness. His entire worldview shattered.

“What… what kind of monster is this?!”

When Ink Ash’s palm fully closed, the sky returned to serene blue—as if nothing happened.

A cold wind brushed Norris’s cheek as he turned, dazed. A silent hole now marred his chest.

The moment that fist clenched, his heart—and life—were crushed.

Blood seeped slowly from his lips. As life faded, Norris felt no fear—only yearning for higher magic.

He rasped through a parched mouth, “How… how did you do that?”

“Oh, I just pinched it.”

Ink Ash clapped his hands casually, smiling.

Disbelief flashed in Norris’s eyes. “So… simple?”

“Yep.”

He wasn’t mocking him. To Ink Ash, it was simply natural.

Hearing this, Norris opened his mouth—suddenly realizing his own absurdity. *Magic was this simple… my path… was wrong all along!*

If Ink Ash knew his thoughts, he’d add,

“No, no—you overthought it. Magic should be flashy and beautiful, right?”

Out of respect for a mage’s legacy, the Great Demon King let his body return to Mother Nature… while pocketing the precious spatial ring.

“Phew. Good thing this method was gentle.”

Happily clutching the priceless ring, the “frugal” Ink Ash sighed in relief.

Sympathy? Joke—he was the Demon King, aspiring to be the ultimate villain!

Besides, he’d given the chance. The fool just didn’t take it.