Inside a dark castle steeped in the stench of death, a king sat with his legs crossed, a faint trace of arrogance on his face. He propped up his dull-looking cheek with an arm resting lazily against the throne.
A red carpet covered the damp floor. Upon it stood iron golems and spiritual beings shaped like feral beasts. Enough of them to be considered part of a thoroughly unpleasant daily scenery.
There were four in total. All of them stood close to a throne that could hardly be called magnificent when compared to those of human kingdoms. It was truly decrepit. Like something that had not been maintained in decades.
Then, just a few steps forward, a deafening roar echoed, the kind that only made one feel even more irritated.
"Oahhhhhhhh!" The cry was overflowing with burning spirit, wrapped in an intensely violent killing intent. It came from a group of overly enthusiastic soldiers.
"Prepare yourselves! This is a battle between life and death. Do not waste everything we have endured just to reach this rotten tower!" Another voice followed, belonging to a heroic and authoritative woman. She sounded like an overactive provocateur, clearly straining herself to raise the morale of the revolutionary forces she had brought along.
Without wasting a single second, they smashed open the massive doors. And at last, they came face to face with the very existence they had been seeking all this time.
"Surrender, cursed Demon King! You will die by our hands today!"
She shouted with unwavering resolve, eyes blazing with the will to live.
The woman wore steel armor engraved with the emblem of a great kingdom: crossed swords over a withered rose. She did not wait for a reply. Nor did she expect one.
Drawing her sword from her slender waist, she pointed it straight at her target. The tedious Demon King.
The only response she received was a voice.
"…Ouh?" Uttered with pure laziness.
I am Satanos.
The Demon King they have been searching for. I raised the tip of my finger in boredom. Honestly, that was probably all I needed to do before slamming that loudmouthed woman straight into the pillar that had been standing proudly moments ago.
It collapsed.
The rubble buried her completely.
Utterly ruined.
The revolutionary soldiers who witnessed the scene were clearly consumed by rage. Many of them immediately raised their weapons in response. Unfortunately for them, they had yet to receive any command to attack from the hero figure still standing among them.
Perhaps they were still devising a strategy or something along those lines. Let us settle on that explanation.
Anyway, I can move objects at will, as long as they are within a certain range. So do not be surprised by what I just did to that woman. You could call it a natural instinct in response to what they tried to do to me.
"Guhah—!!" the woman coughed up blood as she managed to shove aside the rubble that had buried her. Then she staggered back to her feet, her head spinning.
Using her holy sword, stabbed into the floor, as support for her body was a fairly clever move. It even formed a dramatic pose. Quite fitting for a hero who had just suffered instant defeat, despite the battle barely reaching its opening climax.
"Tch. How boring."
Scenes like this had happened countless times. When I thought about it, it was already far too dull to even bother recording. So dull that I could no longer feel true boredom anymore. I had almost forgotten what it felt like just moments ago.
No, that was merely part of the worst point. A problem anyone would consider serious.
In short, it was like reading a story where the same sentence keeps repeating for years on end. Do you get it? Or not. That is up to you.
No matter how boring it was to me, it kept happening. I suppose because I never noticed it before, and instinctively, almost magically, or perhaps automatically, I always ended up defeating the holy hero the moment the opening bell of battle rang.
And then, after the hero died… strangely enough, they came again. And again. With the same scenario, the same reactions, the same defeat, the same boredom.
Which meant the hero kept returning to a checkpoint every time she died. Over and over again.
It was laughably absurd. Why did I not notice it sooner? Still, I eventually did.
Recalling all of that, I deliberately let the atmosphere in the room grow darker. "I will pretend not to know what you are planning. But I know what will happen next."
With that random slogan, I tried my best to appear terrifying in their eyes. I raised one arm toward the ceiling and began summoning genuine demon forces to attack the ordinary revolutionary soldiers.
For some reason, I had a feeling they would become a nuisance in the next few minutes.
That would be extremely troublesome.
Better to prevent it early.
Very well. Since I already know the entire scenario, this time I will make a few changes. I have no intention of repeating the same impulsive actions forever.