"Pathetic!" I roared, hurling a fireball at one of the four humans trying to kill me. He barely managed to block it, the blast sending him stumbling back. Another one already lay dead, his body still smoldering on the blackened ground.
A second man dove at me from above, his sword blazing with flames. I tapped my foot, a red magic circle flaring to life beneath me. In an instant, I sank into the ground reappeared several feet away.
"Fools. You really think you can defeat the great Demon Lord Kana?" I shouted, my voice echoing across the battlefield. These so-called heroes, thinking they could stop me — laughable.
Twenty. That's how many the gods had sent so far. Twenty failures. Did they really believe this batch of naive little brats would succeed where all the others had fallen?
I watched one of them — a black-haired assassin type — dart toward me, his blade flashing in the light. His form was clean, trained, deadly. But to me, he was moving in slow motion.
Dodge. Parry. Step aside. It was all so easy.
I yawned.
This back-and-forth was growing dull. Time to end it.
"Heart Grasp," I whispered. I didn't need to say the words — the spell worked without them — but it always felt more dramatic when I did.
I reached into the air and clenched my fist. Blood exploded across my knuckles. The assassin gasped, then crumpled to the ground, a hole torn through his chest where his heart used to be.
Three left.
A grin spread across my face. I stepped forward, and a katana shimmered into existence in my hand. Slim, beautiful, perfectly balanced — one of my favorites.
With a burst of speed too fast for most humans to track, I flashed across the field. My blade sliced clean through the leg of a blond man.
He collapsed instantly, screaming.
"Aaaarrrgghh!"
Delightful.
I stood over him, watching the blood pour from the stump.
"What's the matter?" I asked, my voice loud and cold. "Weren't you just declaring victory a moment ago? Didn't you say you'd end my reign of terror?"
He didn't answer. Just screamed.
I finished him quickly. No need to waste more time. His head tumbled away.
Two left now. A woman with silver hair and a man with a giant hammer. They began backing away.
"Not so brave now, are you?" I said, stepping closer. "Come, show me what makes you 'heroes.'"
The silver-haired one raised her staff. Her hands trembled.
I could feel it — her mana was building. She was preparing something big. Maybe even dangerous.
I let her cast. I wanted to see what they thought could work against me.
She shouted a spell. A pillar of white fire surged from the sky and slammed into my chest. The ground cracked. Smoke filled the air.
For a moment, everything was silent.
Then the smoke cleared.
I stood in the center, my body steaming, my clothes scorched but intact. My skin had already begun to heal.
I smiled.
"Cute."
The man with the hammer charged. He chanted under his breath, and a strange golden light wrapped around him. His muscles bulged. His eyes glowed.
Ah. A physical enhancement. A divine one, if I wasn't mistaken.
Interesting.
His hammer slammed down with the force of a meteor. I raised my katana and caught the blow — the ground beneath us shattered.
He pushed forward. I held steady.
"You're strong," I said.
He didn't answer. Just grit his teeth and kept pressing.
Then I twisted, slipped under the hammer, and drove my blade through his side.
He screamed. I yanked the sword free. Blood sprayed across my face.
He dropped to one knee. Still alive, but barely.
The silver-haired girl screamed something — a name, maybe his — and ran toward him.
I let her.
I wanted her to feel the despair.
I wanted her to understand.
There was no hope.
[Zenney's POV:]
I looked down from the divine realm as the hopeless battle dragged on below.
"Sigh." I'm supposed to be the god of luck, aren't I? Even if I'm just a fragment... I am the god now. So why have I failed this many times?
It's like I'm walking on eggshells. No—I'm buried in them. So many "innocent" souls dead, piled up on decisions I didn't stop. Failures I didn't prevent. Losses I didn't care enough to notice.
The council's already sharpening their spears — they're definitely cooking up some divine punishment.
I stood, brushing imaginary dust from my robe, though there was none. Divine spaces are clean. Sterile. Unfeeling. Unlike the battlefield below.
And then I made the worst — and probably the best — decision I've made since becoming this half-baked divine mistake.
If the Demon Lord can't be killed by humans... then I'll go down there myself.
There's no chance these mortals are going to win. They're desperate, doomed, and I'm tired of cleaning up after failure. Finding another group is troublesome. And they'll just die too. Again.
Sure, it's against the rules. Divine interference in the mortal realm is strictly forbidden.
But if I'm quick... maybe no one will notice.
With that, I vanish from the divine plane.