Chapter 220 – The Unsinkable San Francisco  

Truthfully, luring the Demon King was far easier than fighting and defeating him.  

At the very least, it didn’t require charging headfirst into certain death.  

But that didn’t mean luring him was easy. The overwhelming power of the Demon King made sure of that.  

Moreover, we couldn’t make it obvious that we were baiting him. We had to keep fighting him while retreating—hurling spells, swinging swords, and pouring out divine energy.  

After giving it our all, we finally succeeded in drawing the Demon King out of Pyongyang.  

Alone, it would’ve been impossible.  

Every time I tried to get close to lure him, my arm or side would get blown off, or my mind would be shattered by his magic.  

If it weren’t for Yerim and Zahina, I would’ve died before even leaving Pyongyang.  

The Daughter of the Divine Tree, who hindered the Demon King with her spells, and the Saintess, who could heal even fatal wounds—thanks to them, we managed to lead the Demon King out of the city.  

We fled westward, eventually arriving at the coastal area near Nampo Port, where the western sea stretched before us.  

The Demon King, seeing us stop at the shore, leisurely descended from the sky.  

“What’s wrong? Nowhere left to run?”  

Standing atop the tidal flats, he smirked as he looked down at us.  

And he had every right to.  

While we had desperately fought and fled to reach this place, the Demon King had been toying with us the entire time.  

His demeanor was that of someone amused by a pitiful display.  

Unlike our first successful attack on the rooftop, neither my sword imbued with divine energy nor my blade infused with mana had any effect on him now.  

The Demon King, fully focused on us, was nothing like the distracted version of himself when he had been merging dimensions.  

We had given it our all, but if the Demon King had been serious, we never would’ve made it this far.  

Even as we raised our weapons against him with the sea at our backs, the Demon King continued with his mocking grin.  

“You lured me away from the magic circle and brought me here… So, you’re planning to have someone dismantle my spell while I’m gone, is that it?”  

Of course, the Demon King wasn’t a fool.  

No, he couldn’t possibly be.  

This was the Demon King who had trapped humans countless times and even slain the Hero.  

There was no way he hadn’t realized we were baiting him.  

Yet he had followed us anyway—out of sheer confidence, or perhaps arrogance.  

“Unfortunately for you, it’s pointless. That magic is my creation. The spell of the King of Death, the God of Magic. No human can undo it. And now that I’ve reinforced it on the way here, destroying it is impossible.”  

His words sounded convincing, and as the Demon King who had cast the dimensional fusion spell, his confidence was justified.  

But we weren’t shaken.  

We had already accounted for that when planning our strategy.  

If he didn’t believe his magic circle was secure, he never would’ve chased us.  

He must’ve prepared far more than he let on, and objectively, his words made sense—  

But I trusted our mages.  

If the Demon King was formidable, then Yelena and Irene were even greater.  

Our mages would surely dismantle his magic.  

“After I kill you, I’ll return and enjoy watching the despair of those who came after you. Or perhaps my minions have already slaughtered them.”  

Thankfully, the Demon King had grown more… human.  

In the past, he would’ve acted purely rationally.  

That gave us a little more time.  

I glanced past the Demon King at the distant sky over Pyongyang, then turned my gaze to the sea behind Nampo Port.  

No matter what the Demon King said, we had succeeded in luring him to our desired location.  

Now, it was time to stall.  

I gathered every ounce of mana and divine energy I had left.  

Mana circuits surged violently as both forces clashed within me.  

Mixing mana and divine energy was as difficult as ever.  

Now I understood why the Hero had relied solely on divine energy.  

But I couldn’t do the same.  

The Demon King before me was not one who could be defeated by divine energy alone.  

A being with godlike mana—I had no choice but to force myself to wield both.  

“Guh—!”  

With a grunt, I lunged at the Demon King.  

A shield conjured by Zahina enveloped me, while Yerim’s divine energy spread across the shore like a radiant halo.  

Whoosh.  

Her divine flames burned away the miasma around the Demon King, but unlike with other undead, not a single ember touched his body.  

His overwhelming aura and mana repelled the divine energy.  

It was absurd, but I didn’t care.  

I’d seen it repeatedly while luring him here.  

And it wasn’t entirely useless.  

The flames obstructed the flow of miasma and obscured the Demon King’s vision—that was enough.  

I pierced through the flames and thrust my sword, brimming with sword energy, toward his body.  

Clang.  

The blade didn’t reach him.  

A magic circle materialized in front of the Demon King, blocking my strike.  

Simultaneously, another circle formed, unleashing lightning and burning miasma that coiled around me.  

I endured the searing pain and pushed forward, driving my sword deeper.  

The shield shattered in an instant.  

The miasma clawed at my flesh, and the lightning scorched my body, but I kept attacking the Demon King, now fully encased in his magic circles.  

I resisted the encroaching miasma with my own divine energy and bore the burns with Yerim’s healing.  

But the Demon King’s magic rained down on me—flames, lightning, telekinesis, even water from the sea.  

Uncharacteristic of the King of Death, he relied on spells to attack me.  

He had no choice.  

As the Hero, I was nearly immune to undead and miasma.  

So, he used what worked best against me.  

I dodged what I could and endured the rest, but no matter how I attacked—from the front, above, below, or behind—his magic circles blocked every strike.  

Not shields, just simple defensive barriers fueled by his immense mana.  

Yet, for the Demon King, that was enough.  

‘This is so much harder than running away.’  

I couldn’t even tell if he was fighting seriously now.  

The Demon King merely stood there, flicking his fingers within his magic circles.  

Still, he was far more active than when he’d been chasing us.  

As a result, my body was being torn apart, exhaustion creeping in.  

Yerim’s healing couldn’t keep up with the Demon King’s attacks, and my frantic movements to evade his spells only wore me down further.  

Even the divine energy that usually kept my body in peak condition had its limits.  

“It’s almost over.”  

The Demon King chuckled as he watched me, bloodied and gasping for breath.  

“Still, you’ve done better than the last two Heroes. Your swordsmanship is impressive, and you can even wield mana properly. It seems this generation’s Hero is the real deal.”  

His praise sounded hollow.  

“After you die, you can boast to your god about how hard you fought.”  

In other words, he was mocking the very god who had made me the Hero.  

I was indeed at my limit.  

Yerim and Zahina, supporting me from behind, were clearly exhausted as well.  

But I didn’t react to his taunts—not because I was too tired, but because the Demon King’s expression had changed as he glanced behind me.  

I subtly turned my head.  

Amidst the fierce battle, our positions had shifted. Now, Pyongyang lay behind me.  

And in the sky above it, the miasma and mana that had been gathering were now dispersing.  

The translucent mountain range hovering over the southern sky was fading away.  

Contrary to the Demon King’s words, our mages had begun dismantling his magic circle.  

“Impossible. Did your god intervene?”  

I shook my head.  

“My comrades did it.”  

“Humans? No.”  

“They can. Our mages are geniuses.”  

The Demon King scowled, then clicked his tongue.  

“I can’t let this stand. Pity, but our little game will have to wait.”  

He gathered mana, preparing to take flight.  

He intended to leave us here and return to Pyongyang.  

I couldn’t let that happen.  

I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood.  

Then, I forced my mana circuits to their breaking point, flooding my body with both mana and divine energy.  

Agony wracked every inch of me, but I endured.  

I had held out this long for this very moment.  

I launched myself at the Demon King.  

He looked at me with pity as I shot toward him, but I didn’t care.  

I swung my sword.  

Again, a magic circle blocked my strike.  

Spells flew at me, but this time, I didn’t dodge.  

Instead, I kept swinging.  

Step by step, I pushed the Demon King and his magic circles toward the sea.  

In an instant, he was forced back to the water’s edge.  

But still protected by his magic, the Demon King hovered in the air, watching with disdain as I took hit after hit.  

Then, with all my strength, I shouted:  

“Now—!”  

Thankfully, my voice held.  

Hearing me, Zahina fired a spell into the sky.  

A beam of light shot upward.  

Whoosh—!  

From the sea behind the Demon King, a submarine—the San Francisco—burst through the surface.  

Only three people remained aboard: the captain, the first mate, and the navigator.  

The rest of the crew had already disembarked.  

This submarine could no longer sail, so there was no reason for them to stay.  

“Will the others make it safely south?”  

“Unlikely.”  

The captain shook his head at the first mate’s question.  

They had left the crew at Nampo Port, but traversing the undead-infested land of North Korea to reach the south was nearly impossible.  

Still, staying aboard wasn’t an option.  

“At least they have a slim chance. Better than being stuck here.”  

“True.”  

As the captain and first mate exchanged their final words, the navigator finished his task.  

“Ready, Captain. The modifications you requested are confirmed.”  

The captain nodded.  

“You’ve done well.”  

The first mate opened the cover of the switch before them.  

“Let’s do it.”  

“Right. No time to waste.”  

The captain placed his hand on the switch.  

The nuclear missile launch switch—repurposed for self-destruction.  

“It’s been an honor. See you in heaven.”  

“Might not happen. We’ve got different beliefs.”  

The three shared a quiet laugh.  

Then, the captain pressed the switch.  

Flash.  

The remaining nuclear missile aboard the San Francisco detonated.  

As the submarine was obliterated, blinding light and scorching heat erupted in all directions—faster than the Demon King could react.  

Boom—!  

The nuclear explosion, erupting from the sea directly behind the Demon King, engulfed both him and me.