Magnus leaned back in his oversized throne, cradling a warm cup of tea. Steam curled lazily into the air as he stared into nothing. Beside him, the slime was laying on his right hand. And suddenly bob came with a serious expression.
"…And so, Pride and the hero are about to clash," Bob finished.
Magnus blinked. "Huh?"
Bob sighed. "You weren't listening."
"…Mostly. Something about a clash?"
"The Demon King of Pride and a hero. They're about to fight."
Magnus exhaled, swirling his tea. "Should I care?"
Bob gave him a flat look. "You're a Demon King now. If another Demon King falls, things will shift. You might even have to do something."
Magnus groaned. "Ugh. Responsibility." He stared at Bob for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright, fine. Show me."
Bob raised an eyebrow. "Show you?"
"Yeah, like a vision, magic mirror, something. I wanna watch."
Bob opened his mouth, then closed it. "You expect me to just—what? Cast a spell and make it happen?"
Magnus looked at the ceiling once again, as if Myst could be found there. "Hey, Myst. Can you do the thing? Y'know, make a screen or something?"
[Do you think I am some kind of—ugh!]
"You're dream, right? That means you can see what's happening where, yeah?"
Myst's eye twitched. [That is not how it works.]
"But you can do it, right?" Magnus pressed, lazily spinning his cup.
Myst rubbed his temples. [In theory, yes. But extending my influence beyond the dream realm would be inefficient and a waste of power.]
Magnus shrugged. "Sounds like an excuse."
Myst's form flickered—like he was suppressing the urge to smack Magnus.
Bob, meanwhile, watched with mild amusement. "You do have a system, you know. Maybe check if it has something for this?"
Magnus sighed. "you are kinda too smart. Well, fine." He called up his system, scrolling through options until—
[New feature unlocked: Observer's Window]
Magnus raised a brow. "Whoa, Myst. Are you a tsundere?"
[What's that?]
"Never mind."
Magnus waved off the notification and focused. With a thought, the Observer's Window materialized before him—a translucent screen flickering before stabilizing into a crisp image.
The battlefield unfolded.
Shattered ruins stretched across the land, remnants of what was once a grand city. Cracks split the earth, dust and debris frozen midair. And at the center—two figures locked in an invisible struggle.
Lucian Vaincrest, the Demon King of Pride, stood tall, golden armor gleaming as if untouched by the chaos around him. His silver hair flowed in the wind, piercing eyes filled with disdain. His presence alone exuded absolute self-belief.
Facing him was Alexander, the Hero.
His crimson cape billowed behind him, his blade raised high. Unlike Lucian's refined arrogance, Alexander's pride burned raw and unshakable. His stance, his grip, his gaze—all screamed unwavering confidence.
Magnus took a slow sip of tea. "Oho? This might actually be worth watching."
Bob floated closer. "A clash of two prideful warriors… should be interesting."
Magnus smirked. "More like a battle of who's the bigger narcissist."
The battlefield tensed.
Lucian stepped forward.
Alexander mirrored him.
And then—
They vanished.
A shockwave erupted, the ground shattering as they clashed in a blur of motion.
"Demon King! Your death is nigh!" Alexander roared, swinging his blade.
A crimson arc of energy slashed through the air, splitting the clouds. But Lucian didn't move.
The golden-armored Demon King simply stood there, resting his massive black sword on the soil. The moment the energy slash neared him—
It vanished.
No explosion. No impact. No ripple of force. It was as if the attack had never existed.
Alexander's eyes narrowed. "Tch. What trickery is this?"
Lucian chuckled. "Did you truly believe such an attack could touch me?" He flicked his wrist.
The ground beneath Alexander exploded.
A golden force surged up, launching him backward. Twisting midair, he flipped gracefully, skidding across the ruins before stopping.
Magnus raised a brow. "Huh. So his 'Absolute Superiority' thing works like that?"
Bob nodded. "If he believes himself untouchable, then he is. Any attack that doesn't surpass his pride ceases to exist."
Magnus took another sip. "That's stupidly broken. But how do you know that?"
Bob smirked. "Well, he's abilities are quite a talk."
The hero tightened his grip, his pride unshaken—it burned even brighter.
"Good," Alexander muttered. "It would be insulting if you fell too easily."
Lucian smiled. "Then entertain me, human."
Once again, Alexander vanished.
Lucian, expecting a standard teleport, turned behind. But—
Nothing.
For the first time, he hesitated. Then—
Ping!
A soft sound echoed. Lucian's sharp eyes darted upward.
Above him, Alexander hovered, silhouetted against the sun. His sword hummed with power, faint embers flickering along its blade.
Lucian's gaze hardened. "Flying now, are we?"
Alexander smirked. "You think too small, Demon King."
Lucian scoffed, pointing his massive sword skyward. "No matter where you stand, you are beneath me."
Alexander merely grinned. His hand rested on his sheathed blade.
Lucian's eyes widened. That stance…
Quick-draw.
Lucian burst into laughter. "Hahaha! You dare use my technique against me?!"
His laughter was deafening, echoing across the Demon Realm—loud enough to reach Magnus' castle hundreds of thousands of kilometers away.
Bob and Renaya, watching from the throne room, didn't even need the screen.
"He's insane," Bob muttered. "Kinda happy being your servant."
"True," Renaya agreed, glancing at Bob with a slight blush… what? Whatever.
Back on the battlefield—
Alexander's stance remained steady.
Lucian's laughter died down, leaving an eerie silence. His golden eyes gleamed—not with arrogance, but curiosity.
"You truly believe you can surpass me with my own technique?"
Alexander smirked. "I don't believe. I know."
For the first time in centuries, Lucian felt it—anticipation.
"Then come, hero. Show me."
The world held its breath.
Alexander's fingers twitched.
A golden arc slashed through the sky.
A split second later—vanished.
Alexander dropped from the air, his cape facing the heavens he had just split.
The moment his feet touched the ground—
The earth shattered.
No, it was sliced, clean as butter. The impact was absolute. Even with Absolute Superiority, Lucian's left arm was severed, his massive blade clattering to the ground.
Lucian stared at his missing limb.
Impossible.
For the first time, his belief had failed him.
Silence.
Then—
Laughter.
Lucian's voice boomed, shaking the Demon Realm.
Alexander laughed too.
Their combined laughter rippled through existence—earthquakes in the Elven lands, volcanic eruptions in the Human Realm. Even celestial beings, who watched mortals like insects, trembled in fear.
Magnus leaned back, eyes slightly widened.
"…Okay, I take it back," he muttered. "This is beyond worth watching."
Bob let out a dry chuckle. "Two absolute maniacs shaking entire worlds? Yeah. This is cinema."
Magnus smirked. "Cinema, huh? Yeah. This is peak fiction unfolding in real-time."
Renaya crossed her arms, eyes still locked on the battlefield. "Peak fiction or not… if this keeps escalating, the realm won't survive."
Bob hesitated. "Pfft. What's the worst that could happen?"
Renaya pointed at the screen.
The moment Magnus and Bob looked, the sky shattered.
Not clouds parting. Not a storm breaking. The actual sky—cracks spiderwebbed across it, as if reality itself was glass, and something had just punched straight through it.
Lucian stood at the center of it all, his body glowing with an aura beyond anything seen before. His golden armor had cracked and fallen away, revealing something beneath—his true form.
His skin now shimmered with ethereal gold, as if he were sculpted from pure divinity. His single remaining arm pulsed with overwhelming energy, and his severed limb… was regenerating.
Not flesh. Not bone.
Something more.
Something untouchable.
Bob's nonexistent eyes widened. "No way… He's rebuilding himself using the concept of superiority itself. His belief isn't just making him untouchable anymore—it's making him absolute."
Alexander once again sheathed his sword, but suddenly! He dropped it in front of him.
"What is this, human?!" Lucian with genuine confusion asked.
"Do you not understand? I will beat you with my fists."
The moment alexander said that he vanished, and appeared in front of lucian who was still trying to understand what he meant. Alexander striked lucains head with his punch creating a hole in the shattered sky itself. The force of the blow didn't just send shockwaves—it rewrote them, warping the very space around Lucian.
Lucian's head snapped back, his golden form momentarily distorting as if struggling to maintain itself. But then, he grinned.
"A mere human challenging a god with his fists?" Lucian laughed, his regenerating arm fully forming into something unreal—an appendage sculpted from sheer superiority, existing beyond the concept of mortal flesh. "Amusing. Then let me show you what it means to strike from above."
Lucian didn't move. He didn't need to.
The moment he willed it, Alexander was struck.
A flash of gold. A sickening impact.
Alexander barely had time to register it—Lucian's left hand, the very one he had severed, now buried deep in his stomach.
The force was beyond comprehension. A sonic boom erupted, but the shockwave wasn't just sound—it distorted space itself, as if the world couldn't process the sheer force behind the blow.
Alexander rocketed backward. Buildings crumbled in his wake as he tore through them like paper. The earth itself split beneath his trajectory, a trail of destruction carved into the landscape.
Then he hit the mountain.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then, the entire peak crumbled. Not in an avalanche. Not in a collapse. It simply ceased to exist, reduced to dust in an instant.
yet, as the debris settled, a shadow rose from within.
Bruised. Bloodied.
Grinning.
It seemed the fight had only just begun.