Hide. Immediately.
The Snowfield was vast.
Cold all year round.
The blizzards that came every other day obscured vision, and the freezing air turned everything into ice.
A natural counter.
Even for Berze Deias, the Demon Dragon and Fire Dragon.
Even for Pale, who wielded the Phoenix's flame.
The Snowfield was not a place they particularly liked.
To make matters worse, Reina's presence could be felt everywhere, as if she were proudly declaring this land as hers.
This was only the second time Berze had infiltrated another Demon Lord's territory—and it was far from pleasant.
"Will we be able to find Hillen?"
"It is simple."
Of course. Armani's marble was embedded in the bastard's head. Unless his head exploded or he entered a different dimension, Hillen could never escape Berze's grasp.
But simply knowing did not make him easy to find.
The Snowfield.
The territory of the Frost Demon Lord, Reina Sordein.
He was not planning to walk in wearing his Demon Lord form, so another incident like the one with Draxon wouldn't occur, but…
'Which means the opposite—without using full power, I might not be able to save Hillen at all.'
Thinking about it… even with full power, the situation wasn't good.
He hadn't strengthened his tower, hadn't expanded his territory, hadn't bought anything to enhance his influence—so Berze's force was nearly the same as when he had first descended.
Vivian, who descended later and was originally a weak succubus, was an exception, but compared to the other three Demon Lords, Berze was naturally the weakest.
'And the situation is the worst possible.'
Reina had said she would make an example out of Hillen.
If she felt confident enough to say that, she would never take it lightly.
She would not intervene personally, of course…
But it was highly likely that many High Frost Demonkin had poured out to hunt him.
If they attacked, even the current Berze could not win.
'Damn it.'
He had to break through countless hordes of monsters, demonic beasts, and demons to rescue Hillen Cargill—without revealing that he was a Demon Lord.
A difficulty so absurd it made the phrase that damn Arein come to mind.
'All because I wanted to fix his arrogant habits just once…'
It had become the worst possible move.
He admitted it—this time, it was his mistake.
He underestimated Reina Sordein, and he overestimated Hillen Cargill. He tried to correct his habits but also trusted him too much.
If things went wrong, most of what he had built since descending would be destroyed.
Not everything—but most of it.
'Still… it's not too late to fix this.'
As long as he rescued Hillen safely, nothing would change.
The problem was how to rescue him.
He couldn't brute-force his way through.
And in a Snowfield made of nothing but snow and monsters, it was hard to devise any clever strategy.
'If it doesn't exist… I'll make it.'
Berze headed south again. Using a straight-line teleportation gate cost a fortune, but that didn't matter.
"My lord!"
"No time for chatter—hand over everything you have, now."
"Wouldn't it be better if I used it myself?"
"Can you survive the Snowfield? I won't have the luxury to protect you while running."
"Honestly, dwarves prefer the south to the north."
Receiving what he needed, he returned north and reunited with Ernan and Granada.
It took three days. What could be solved with money, he solved with money; the rest, he obtained by pure speed.
"We're not too late, right?"
"Don't worry. He's alive."
If Hillen Cargill died, Armani's marble would dissipate—and its destruction would be transmitted to its master.
It had not sent any signal yet.
"That's a relief. But… will that be enough?"
"It's better than nothing."
As long as it made them hesitate for even a moment—that was enough. He was confident in escaping afterward.
"Ernan, you—"
"I'm going too."
"The Snowfield is dangerous. We must rescue Hillen quickly and flee—I won't have the leisure to look after you."
"You don't have to look after me."
"You're confident?"
"I'll be a help. At least in the Snowfield."
"What's your basis?"
"Nairuniel."
"I see."
He accepted it.
Ernan was an excellent Spirit Sorcerer. Summoning a high-ranking spirit proved it.
She was useful anywhere, but in the Snowfield—where water and ice, her spirit's domain, dominated—she would undoubtedly be even stronger.
Her progress was noticeably faster than before the regression, too.
'She might even withstand mid-level demons—maybe even the weaker High Demons…'
As long as it wasn't one of the Frost Demonkin.
Either way, Ernan would only help, not hinder.
"Fine."
"Thank you!"
"And I…"
"You're coming. No way you're saying you can't keep up."
Granada had always been overshadowed by Hillen Cargill, but he was far from weak.
Early on, weakened by years of slavery, he lost to Berze easily—but not anymore. After becoming a Hero, he grew even more rapidly than before.
'This one is no ordinary elf either.'
The fact that other elves trusted and followed him proved that.
He kept quiet about it because he preferred hiding it, and it wasn't particularly important—but Berze had a good guess.
"…Yes."
"Let's go."
They crossed the city walls and headed north.
The barren land slowly turned white. Snowflakes began to fall.
"There are no monsters."
"Of course not."
They would all be heading toward Hillen Cargill. Not good news—because it meant Hillen was in that much danger.
Their destination was clear, so choosing the direction was easy.
They ran fast. Elves adapted well to almost any environment, and a Spirit Sorcerer commanding a high-ranked water spirit did not fall behind.
Hours passed. Then days.
Through the blizzard, the sound of battle reached them.
Countless monster silhouettes. The auras of demonic beasts and demons.
Berze suppressed his presence.
He could not see Hillen Cargill through the wall of monsters. But the familiar mana—and the position of Armani's marble—screamed he was right at the center.
"…There are too many. What do we do?"
"I have a plan."
"As expected of my lord. What is it?"
"We break through, rescue Hillen, and escape."
"…Truly an amazing plan."
Berze ignored Granada's sarcasm.
There was, of course, no such thing as a plan.
The situation was too sudden, and the only thing that mattered was rescuing Hillen Cargill by any means necessary.
"First, let's draw their attention."
He opened his subspace and pulled out what he had received from Loger.
Twenty magic cannons revealed their brilliant forms.
"…My god. When you said you were going to get something—this is what you meant…?"
"Yes. Twenty cannons aren't nearly enough to wipe all of that out, but they're more than enough to draw attention."
These were no ordinary magic cannons.
They were crafted by one of the top three artisans in Verft, imbued with the force of dimensional interference.
The only flaw was that they used regular mana-stone shells instead of corrupted mana-stone shells.
Using demonic energy would increase their power… but it would also raise suspicion.
"I'll sweep the front with the magic cannons. When a gap opens, I'll go in and grab Hillen. You two will stay here and keep firing—"
Berze stopped mid-sentence.
Hillen's presence had suddenly weakened.
Demonic energy thickened around him.
The smell of blood grew stronger.
Warning bells rang in his mind.
Something was going terribly wrong.
"What's wrong?"
Ernan's voice echoed uselessly.
Berze was no longer there.
Flames wrapped around his entire body—
And he shot into the sky.
Like a phoenix out of legend.
***
He no longer bothered with stealth—he hurled himself into the air.
In the middle of countless hordes, Hillen wavered like a man about to die at any moment.
Filthy, covered in corpses.
But alive.
That was enough.
'I must draw their gaze.'
So they would no longer be able to attack Hillen.
Fwoosh—
He exhaled the flames he had gathered. Fire wrapped around him, heat bursting outwards, drawing every eye.
He dove straight in.
The flames traced a far longer arc than he expected.
Unlike demonic energy—suppressed in this dimension by interference—the power of the Phoenix was native to this world.
The power of a Beast, rivaling that of a Dragon, was never shallow—and Berze could grow it as much as he wished.
And even if its nature differed slightly—
Flame was what Berze handled best.
KWAOOOOOM—!
A massive explosion erupted.
The world brightened.
Heat slammed into them.
And moments later, the shockwave tore through the field.
Only a few High Demons endured it without collapsing.
'Armand…'
His gaze shifted to the Frost Demonkin who had just been cornering Hillen.
A familiar face.
One of Reina's close aides he had seen several times at the Tower of Frost.
"…Lord Berze?"
The man murmured blankly.
"No… that can't be…"
Then he quickly shook his head.
'Ah.'
Only then did Berze realize his face felt exposed—his cheap mask, with no enchantments or engravings on it, had shattered halfway from the explosion.
"What nonsense are you talking about?"
No demon would assume he was Berze just because their faces resembled each other.
"Who are you?"
"A human."
At the calm reply, Armand quietly recreated the ice spear that had melted.
He had many questions—
Why the man's face looked nearly identical to Berze's.
How he had fooled Armand's senses and gotten this far.
Who he was.
But none of that mattered compared to the aura this man radiated.
'Not a Hero. But…'
More dangerous than most Heroes.
'He knows Hillen Cargill.'
If someone like this stayed beside the Hero who had killed two Demon Lords—
From the demons' perspective, it would be a catastrophe.
'Doesn't matter who he is. I just need to kill him.'
Hillen Cargill—
and the human who shared Berze's face.
"Here is where you die."
Armand charged.
Berze, still heavy with the backlash of releasing a massive flame burst, clenched his teeth and ignited his flames again.
The demonic beasts that had retreated now revealed their savage killing intent once more.
Then—
BOOM BOOM BOOM—
Dozens of explosions shook the Snowfield simultaneously.
Thunderous blasts.
Detonations.
Monsters screaming.
Everything happened in an instant.
"…Magic cannons?"
Humans—here already?
Armand's pupils widened.
His attention fractured.
And in that tiny moment—
Flame and lightning struck him together.
The gap in his defense let their attacks slip past him.
"Stop them!"
He shouted frantically, but the encirclement had already been shattered by the human who fell like a meteor.
Magic cannons roared nonstop, widening the gaps further.
But above all—
Crunch—
Slice—
Monsters alone could never stop those two.
"Lord Armand!"
"Chase them immediately!"
Armand led the demons, sprinting after them.
"Lord Pale!"
"Retreat!"
"The magic cannons—"
"I'll destroy them."
They had no time to retrieve them—and they couldn't allow the enemy to use them, so burning everything was the only choice.
He hurled flames onto the cannons.
The shells hit the fire and set off a grand explosion, once again slowing the demons' pursuit.
"Logar will be upset about this."
"His grief is irrelevant. Hillen Cargill."
"Yes."
"Stay focused. If you fall behind, there won't be a second chance."
"…I'll run even if it kills me."
Hillen gritted his teeth.
But he was exhausted—his injuries were far too severe for willpower alone to overcome.
He grew slower.
The gap closed.
Ernan raised a wall of ice.
"Filthy tricks!"
Armand hurled his spear.
A shrill flash tore through the air, shattered the wall of ice, and shot toward Hillen.
"Keep running!"
Berze intercepted it mid-path.
CLANG—
He clenched his trembling arm, swallowing a groan.
Blood trickled from the wound on his palm.
The distance shrank—just a little.
KROOOOAR—
More monsters appeared from the flanks, blocking their path.
"I'll handle it."
Granada swung his sword.
A troll's head flew off in a single stroke.
But it wasn't just one or two monsters—and every second lost widened the danger.
The gap closed further.
'Damn it…!'
At this rate, they would be caught.
'If it comes down to it…'
Berze bit his lip.
Hillen Cargill was precious.
It was true he had come all the way here just to save him.
But no matter how important a chess piece Hillen was…
He was not more important than Berze's own life.
A Demon Lord was still a Demon Lord; roles must never be reversed.
'If things get desperate… I'll throw Hillen to slow them down and escape with Ernan and Granada.'
Especially Ernan, who was more than just…
And then—
BWOOOOOOO—
A horn blast pierced his ears.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The white snow clouds trembled.
Harsh hoofbeats shook the ground.
"…A knight order?"
"That's the crest of House Chernian!"
The leading knights radiated unmistakable force.
Their bodies wrapped in aura, moving as one, charging in formation—
It was like watching a masterwork painting.
Horse and rider, one hundred knights, breathing and unleashing aura like a single machine—
It was breathtaking.
KWA-AAAANG—!
Screams and roars rang out.
The limbs scattered across the snow were almost all monster parts.
KROOAAAR—
Hiiiineigh—!
The monsters faltered.
The demons and demonic beasts halted their pursuit.
"…We're saved."
Berze let out a sigh of relief.
Hillen Cargill, tension collapsing, fainted on the spot.
'Lucky bastard.'
He probably had no idea he'd been a moment away from death.
"We must retreat."
"We've got them. We just need to sever their heads."
Armand gave a hollow laugh at the mid-tier demon's suggestion.
"That is the banner of the Chernian Frontier Marquis and the White Frost Knights. He has come personally."
In the Snowfield, the ones who clashed with monsters and demonic beasts most often were the Barbarians—
But second to them were the border marquis and his knights of the Empire.
Could Armand kill them?
Yes. He could slaughter them all.
But—
Armand ground his teeth.
Wiping out a few Barbarian tribes was one thing.
Touching the Empire's frontier marquis was something else entirely.
Killing a Hero who attempted to climb the tower was one thing.
Killing a Frontier Marquis of the Empire was another.
No matter how Hillen had killed two Demon Lords—
He was not part of the Empire.
The Empire had no reason to intervene for him.
And unless it was the Empire, no one would dare mobilize an army into the Frozen North.
"…Retreat."
Armand cursed himself for indulging his curiosity, for speaking even briefly with the Hero who had slain two Demon Lords.
If only he had used full force from the start—
'I would have killed them…!'
But it was too late.
***
The demons began to withdraw.
Berze stared blankly for a moment—then his gaze drifted to Ernan.
Humans were approaching from the distance.
'If the Empire recognizes Ernan…?'
Instinctively, Berze shoved Ernan's head into the snow.
"Hide. Immediately!"
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