The maid squad is too strong, what use is there for me, the Demon King?

Beneath his black robe, Gray's gaze was like a calm, deep pool, meticulously depicting every hardship and stubbornness of the girl before him through the shadows.

Philippa Ravenhill—Princess of Olmec, his friend from his time as Grey Brant—now stood before him as the world's most opposing force. She was covered in blood, her light armor shattered, her chestnut hair matted with blood, and every breath she took aggravated her numerous wounds, bringing a subtle, painful tremor.

However, those amber eyes, though filled with fear born of excruciating pain and utter helplessness, also burned with undisguised anger and resolute vigilance toward him, the "demon king."

'As expected of the chosen hero…' A barely perceptible ripple stirred deep within Gray's heart, a mixture of admiration and profound helplessness.

Despite being severely injured and on the verge of death, she was still able to stand up by sheer willpower, gripping the slightly dimmed holy sword, and confronting him, the being who brought endless terrifying legends.

This tenacity reminded him of the girl who refused to give up under the sun and on the training field, only now that figure was stained with cruel blood and the shadow of fate.

His thoughts raced through the entire plan like lightning.

At the heart of everything lies this secret city left behind by the tenth "Sage" Demon King, and the ancient treasure vault hidden deep within the city, next to the core hall where the Demon King's sword is enshrined.

The treasury itself is a huge mystery, and each of the relics of the former kings it contains contains inconceivable power.

The dark purple bracelet that perfectly sealed the Demon King Sword's vast fortune originated from there, and the key to this operation—the spatial magic scroll drawn by the "Sage" himself and reaching the tenth-order mythological realm—also slumbered deep within the treasure vault.

Gray mentally re-examined the scroll's incredible effect: it required guiding energy to activate, and the fluctuations during this time were obscure and difficult to detect by conventional means. Only at the very last moment of the teleportation activation would the spatial ripples become clearly visible.

It can precisely define an area from any corner of the main plane, ignoring distance, and forcibly teleport life forms within the area to a designated location in this Demon King's city. It can even be so precise as to send different individuals to different areas.

It was with this scroll that he was able to separate Philippa from her companions so precisely, creating this hard-won opportunity to face her alone.

'Sita and the others... should be facing off against that ninth-tier space master by now.' Gray's thoughts swept across the empty hall, as if penetrating the thick stone walls and sensing the energy collision taking place somewhere in the distance.

He specifically instructed that the main focus should be on obstruction and restraint, and to avoid unnecessary casualties as much as possible.

Neither the loyal old mage nor Taric and Sophia were truly enemies; they were merely pawns blinded by deception. Hopefully, the servants will execute their orders flawlessly and without any mishaps…

However, as his gaze returned to what was before him, the silent sigh in Gray's heart grew even heavier.

'This is difficult...' He looked at the almost tangible hostility in Philippa's eyes, a deep-rooted hatred built on mountains of corpses and seas of blood, and racial hatred, which could not be resolved with just a few words.

What she saw at that moment was merely a terrifying demon king lurking beneath a black robe, who had used his schemes to abduct her to a desperate situation. She didn't know who was beneath the black robe, nor how the words she was about to hear would shatter the beliefs and understanding of the world she had built up since childhood.

Gray took a deep breath, the cold air he inhaled feeling as if it carried the weight of millennia of dust.

He needed to speak, to break the suffocating silence, to reveal the shocking truth to her, bit by bit, like peeling back a sore.

This is by no means an easy task, like walking a tightrope between towering cliffs; a slight misstep could plunge one into an abyss of misunderstanding and conflict.

He slowly raised his hand, which was shrouded in black robes, not in an attacking gesture, but as a gesture of trying to calm down and communicate.

The deep, steady voice, subtly altered by magic, no longer bore any of Grey Brant's characteristics, and like the grinding of ancient rocks, slowly reverberated through the deathly silent hall.

“Philippa Ravenhill…”

He called her by her full name, his voice not loud, but clear enough to reach her ears, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, trying to stir up a ripple of listening.

He knew that every word that followed was crucial.

He had to choose his words carefully, making her aware of the seriousness of the matter without overly stimulating her already tense nerves.

The truth is a double-edged sword; while it can be revealed, it can also cause deeper harm.

He was ready, ready to begin a dialogue that might be even more difficult than facing the gods.

Gray’s deep voice had just faded, attempting to use it as a starting point for conversation.

However, he underestimated Philippa's reaction speed under extreme tension and hostility, as well as her determination as a hero.

Almost the instant she heard her full name spoken by that unfamiliar and imposing figure in black robes, Philippa's nerves snapped like a bowstring stretched to its limit.

That wasn't a call to her; to her, it sounded more like a roll call before a death sentence.

Fear, anger, worry about his companions' whereabouts, and the dizziness from his serious injuries all transformed into a desperate urge to fight back.

"Ugh—!"

She let out a low growl mixed with pain and determination, forcibly squeezing out the nearly depleted power of light within her body and pouring it all into the sword in her hand.

The sword burst forth with a dazzling but somewhat weak light. Ignoring the excruciating pain of her wounds reopening, she staggered forward but with unusual determination, unleashing the fastest and most ruthless thrust she could muster at that moment—[Piercing Light]!

The sword flashed like lightning, piercing straight into Gray's chest beneath his black robe! This strike, imbued with all her will and hatred for the "Demon King," unleashed a speed and sharpness far exceeding her usual level despite her severe injuries!

Gray's brows furrowed slightly beneath his black robe. What welled up in his heart was not anger, but a deeper sense of helplessness and... a hint of barely perceptible admiration.

'As expected... it still doesn't work.' He sighed inwardly. The other party's hostility was so deep that it could not be easily resolved with words.

What moved him even more was Philippa's current state. 'This kind of offensive... could not have been achieved solely through the protection of the 'Hero'.'

Her body was clearly on the verge of its limit, and she was only holding on by burning her willpower... Grey could clearly "see" that the flow of light power within Philippa's body was chaotic and rapid, like a candle flame about to go out making its last struggle.

Every muscle exertion is accompanied by minute tears and even greater blood loss.

But it was with this indomitable spirit that she unleashed this decisive sword strike.