The Lowest-Ranked Hero Has Returned
The deepest part of the Abyss.
On a land of flames blazing fiercely as though to devour the entire world, a chill silence descended—utterly out of place in such a place.
“What... is this?”
Amon’s voice trailed off, his expression confused.
The flames of the Abyss that should have been flowing into him were instead gathering elsewhere.
‘Why?’
He had known that Dale possessed a spark of destruction similar to his own.
However, he had assumed it was only a tiny fragment, just one of the many scattered sparks spread across the continent.
After all, there had been cases over the past 500 years where humans carried sparks of destruction.
Amon himself was one such human who harbored a spark of destruction.
‘No, I’m different.’
There was one key difference.
He possessed the ability to draw in other sparks.
In other words, not only did he carry the spark of destruction, but he had the authority to absorb the remnants of power that had been scattered across the continent when the Demon God perished 500 years ago.
That was why he called himself the Master of Destruction.
He firmly believed himself to be the true successor to the Demon God.
He had no reason to think otherwise.
No one else had ever been able to absorb the sparks left behind by the Demon God.
But now—
“You... what are you, really?”
Then why—why were the flames burning in the deepest part of the Abyss flowing toward that gray-haired cadet, and not to him?
“How... how could the spark go to you, ignoring me—the Master of Destruction!”
A cry that was more like a howl than a shout.
Under normal circumstances, he would have hurled mockery instead.
“Kh... ugh.”
Unfortunately, Dale had no room to care about words right now.
‘What is this...?’
The flames poured into him like a flood.
His mind reeled under the overwhelming surge of power that filled his entire body.
“Ah... ugh.”
It was hot.
Like his body was burning, like his mind was boiling, like his soul was melting.
Hot. Hot. Hot. Hot. Hot.
He thought he’d grown used to enduring pain, like breathing.
But this pain was beyond anything he could endure.
‘St-stop...’
He tried to block the flames from entering his body, but the flames of the Abyss surged into his stigma as if finally returning home after a long journey.
“Kh...!”
His body trembled violently under the surging power within him.
“You... If only you didn’t exist...!”
Amon’s savage eyes glared at him with fury.
‘I’m screwed.’
A chilling sense of dread crept down his spine.
And of course, that kind of feeling is never wrong.
“DIE!!!”
Amon roared and lunged at him.
‘Damn it.’
Even now, the flames continued pouring in.
He couldn’t fight back, let alone escape.
As Amon closed the distance, a bleak vision of the future flashed through his mind.
Wooooong!
Something in his chest began to glow.
‘That’s... the Seven-Colored Stone?’
It was the item he had received from Empress Camellia as a reward for thwarting the assassination attempt at the imperial palace.
He had nearly forgotten it was tucked in his cadet uniform pocket.
‘If it’s glowing now, then could it be...’
The Seven-Colored Stone had a very simple function.
Once, anywhere, anytime—
—it could summon the Empress.
Wooooooooong!
Amid radiant light, a platinum-haired woman appeared in the air.
Camellia extended her hand toward the charging Amon.
A brilliant seven-colored aura burst forth, imbued with terrifying magical power.
“Kh...!”
Amon let out a groan and was pushed back by Camellia’s beam of light.
“Are you alright?”
“Ah... ugh.”
“...Judging by your state, I suppose not.”
Camellia bit her lip as she saw him struggling to endure the flames, curled into himself.
“Don’t worry.”
She stood in front of him, a faint smile on her lips.
“This time, I will protect you.”
“Da-danger...”
“Hehe. I know it’s dangerous.”
Camellia nodded gently.
“But, didn’t you say so once?”
Recalling a conversation they once had, Camellia strode forward toward Amon without hesitation.
“If one calls themselves a hero—then they must act accordingly.”
Her stigma lit up, and the seven-colored aura exploded outward.
“Out of my way, Empress...!”
Amon growled, face twisted like a demon, and summoned black flames.
“How dare you speak so arrogantly to me? There’s no one in this world who can command me... hm, no, perhaps there’s one.”
“Damn you!”
Not only had he lost the flames of the Abyss, but now the Empress had appeared.
Amon cursed under his breath and stomped forward.
Fwoooosh!
The raging black flames surged toward the Empress.
BOOM! KRA-KOOOOOM!
The seven-colored light clashed with the black flames.
The ground shook as if from an earthquake, and a deafening roar echoed.
Chiiiiiiiik!
The clash, which had been evenly matched, soon began tipping in favor of the black flames.
Like a starving beast devouring its prey, the black flames began eating away at the seven-colored light.
“Ugh...”
Sweat beaded on Camellia’s forehead.
The divine protection was being consumed by the black flames, and searing pain spread through her body.
“Did all the worship and praise make you believe you were truly a god, being chosen by the Seven Gods?”
Amon twisted his mouth in a sneer and intensified the flames.
“Don’t forget, Empress.”
Fwoooosh!
The blazing flames enveloped her.
“Even the Seven Gods are nothing more than firewood before the flames of Destruction!”
“Ah... ngh!”
Camellia gritted her teeth as the flames engulfed her.
Her alabaster skin melted and warped grotesquely.
Not since she had become the Empress had she suffered such wounds.
Camellia’s expression twisted in agony as her body burned with searing pain.
“Haah, haah!”
Things would have been much better if she could at least retreat from the flames.
‘That... I cannot... allow.’
Looking back at Dale, Camellia instead took a step toward the black flames.
A life crushed under the name of Empress.
— When someone precious dies, anyone would grieve.
In a life where she had everything, yet was deeply lonely, she met him.
— And from my experience, having someone by your side in sorrow makes things better.
The only man who saw her not as the Empress, but as simply Camellia.
‘How ridiculous.’
She, once known as the Iron Lady who distanced herself from all men, was now risking her life for a mere cadet who hadn’t even graduated from hero school.
Camellia wore a faint smile and took another step toward the black flames.
Even if her body was consumed, even if her soul turned to ash and vanished—
“I... shall not retreat.”
Amidst the black flames, a seven-colored aura radiated in dazzling light.
“You damn wench...!”
Amon cursed as he hurled his black flame-wreathed fist at Camellia.
—Thud.
“Huh?”
A hand stopped his fist.
Before he could even see who it was—
“Berald’s Martial Arts.”
Mountain Breaker.
Wham!
A fist cloaked in embers smashed brutally into Amon’s face.
“Gah!”
Amon was flung back pitifully.
He tumbled across the ground for a while, then looked up at Dale with trembling eyes full of disbelief.
“You’re... moving? You can still move?”
The ember sleeping at the deepest part of the Abyss was one of the strongest remnants of the Demon God’s power.
Not only had Dale absorbed it all in less than ten minutes, but now he was even moving?
“You... what are you...?”
Dale looked down at him, wreathed in ashen flames.
Just making eye contact with him made Amon’s heart race wildly, as if it would burst—an instinctive reaction.
Unable to meet Dale’s gaze, Amon lowered his eyes.
Tremble.
He crawled backward in fear, still collapsed on the ground.
Whoosh.
The black flames that had cloaked Amon’s body began to slowly withdraw and flow toward Dale.
“This...”
Amon wore a hollow expression as he watched the flames leave his body.
Yeah.
He had no choice but to admit it now.
“...So that’s how it is.”
Amon looked at Dale with vacant eyes, like his soul had been drained.
“...I was never the one.”
The true master of Destruction wasn’t him—but the gray-haired cadet standing before him.
“You... you were the real master of Destruction.”
“Well, that’s rich. Weren’t you the one who said I was just a heir?”
Tch.
Dale clicked his tongue and took a step toward Amon.
But just then, Dale’s body wobbled, losing balance.
Damn.
He had tried to act calm, but in truth, he wasn’t in good shape either.
The flames that hadn’t fully settled inside his stigmata were still raging uncontrollably.
And with Amon’s flames joining them, he was on the verge of blacking out again.
‘Why the hell are the flames in this guy’s body flowing into me?’
He couldn’t make any sense of what was happening.
“You keep going on about Destruction—Destruction—like a broken record. What the hell is it that you’re making such a fuss over?”
“...You don’t know what Destruction is?”
“Isn’t it just one of the Demon God’s powers?”
“Ha.”
Amon let out a short, mocking laugh and continued.
“Destruction isn’t just one of the Demon God’s powers. It’s something close to his essence.”
“...Essence?”
“Just as Eternity is the essence of the Tree of Creation, Destruction is the very essence of the Demon God.”
“Wait a second.”
Destruction is the Demon God’s essence?
“Then what about the Demon God now...?”
“The Demon God perished 500 years ago. All that remains are fragmented embers of his power.”
“What the hell are you saying?”
The Demon God perished 500 years ago?
That made no sense.
He had clearly seen, in his past life, the Demon God break his seal and emerge—
‘No.’
Think back carefully.
The last thing he remembered was Amon reaching the deepest part of the Abyss, where massive flames erupted and the Demon God appeared.
And since Amon disappeared from that point on, he had assumed that the Demon God had killed Amon after breaking free from the seal.
But what if Amon didn’t die at the Demon God’s hand—
‘What if Amon became the Demon God?’
Then that would mean—
“Don’t tell me... the true master of Destruction you mentioned...”
“That’s right.”
Amon slowly raised his hand and pointed at him.
“You—are now the Demon God.”
‘...Excuse me? I’m what now?’

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