Chapter 125

Malvorr lay on the corrupted forest ground, coughing and taking in sharp, shallow breaths. Blood pooled around him, but that was the least of his worries. His entire left arm, shoulder, and part of his torso had been bitten off, and he had no way to heal himself. This was it. He was going to die.

"Don't you look miserable?" Ercale's voice cut through the silence as he walked up next to Malvorr and looked down at him. "What's wrong? Don't want to die?" he asked with a chuckle, mocking him in his final moments.

"Why did you have to come here?" Malvorr asked, his voice weak.

Ercale rubbed the back of his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Why did you have to come and ruin everything?" Malvorr continued, his words laced with pain and despair.

Ercale understood and closed his eyes for a moment before smiling. "I had to put you in your place. You're a weakling pretending to be strong. I don't hate anything more than people like that," he said, crouching down. He watched as Malvorr's body slowly began to transform back to its normal human self—smaller, weaker, less built. His horns retracted, his teal skin faded to its pale hue, and his eyes lost their demonic glow. His muscular frame shrank, and the feral, sharp features of his face softened back into their more human contours.

"Though I have to say, I definitely didn't expect you to have a demon transformation tied to your ability. That was a first for me," said Ercale, watching with mild interest as Malvorr fully reverted to his normal human form, still dying, with a large chunk of his body torn off.

"H-how did you use one of my techniques?" Malvorr asked, now struggling to speak.

"I mimicked it," Ercale said with a shrug as he stood back up and walked around a bit. "After seeing it, I thought to myself, 'Hey, that's pretty cool. Wonder if I can do it?' And, well, as you saw, I can," he continued smugly.

Malvorr let out a few gasps. "W-who, what are you?"

Ercale looked down at him. "Hmm?"

"The way you talked, the way you mo-mocked me, the way you spoke about me be-being a Demon Lord—you know too much to just be a strong mortal. So wha-what are you?" Malvorr managed to ask.

Ercale smirked. "I guess you're about to die, so I can tell you. I doubt someone like you is ever going to court anyway."

Malvorr let out another gasp. "You know about that too?"

Ercale chuckled. "I know more than you ever will. After all, I'm two generations above you," he said with a smirk.

Malvorr, though shocked by this, didn't have the strength to express it physically. "S-so that's why I lo-lost. I fought someone from the th-third generation."

Ercale let out another chuckle. "Gods, you're so pathetic. Right after I say I'm older than you, you can accept your defeat? That's just so awful." His chuckling turned into full-blown laughter. Malvorr didn't care; now that he knew this, he could die unashamed. He knew that he, a fifth-generation being, didn't stand a chance against anyone from the third generation. He was no Outlier, after all.

"It's more pathetic because you could've actually won against me," Ercale said, stopping his laughter though still with a thin smile on his face. Malvorr froze. *Don't you dare,* he thought to himself as he asked, "Wha-what are y-you talking about?"

Ercale crouched down next to him once again and rested his head on his hand, looking down at Malvorr with amusement in his eyes. "Well, given the fact that you're a Demon Lord, you had to have had some retainers, some followers, named demons and such?" he asked.

Malvorr slowly clenched his fist. "Wh-what about them?" he spat.

Ercale's smile grew wider. "I see they don't mean anything to you, but let me tell you this: if you had seen value in them and actually cared about them as followers, as living beings, you could have beaten me together." His smile grew even wider as he saw rage light back up in Malvorr's eyes.

"A-are y-you actually pre-preaching about the po-power of friendship or some-thing!?" Malvorr exclaimed as loudly as he could, which wasn't much. Ercale started laughing again.

"You're right! You're completely correct!" Ercale exclaimed as he stood back up. "Weaklings like you should stick together with other weaklings, form alliances with friends, with people that will help you. Because you're not strong at all. If you and all your retainers banded together and had a bond, you could have beaten me. But because of your ego, you saw them as nothing but tools. That's why you're going to die here in this forest, alone, having had zero impact. Isn't that just hilarious?"

Malvorr gritted his teeth. "You, y-you haven't won yet! My death changes n-nothing! As long as the su-summoner is alive, the portal wi-will stay open! This was several hundred years i-in the making. I-I have a ba-backup after m-my death. You ha-haven't won! W-we will ta-take this world!" he exclaimed between gasped, dying breaths. His death was near, very near. But hearing this, Ercale's laughter only got louder.

"Take this world? That's just precious! I couldn't do it and you think you lot can? Gods, this is hilarious!" Ercale exclaimed, laughing uncontrollably. Malvorr, in his final moments, realized who he had just fought. *Curse you, strongest. I loathe you...*