Your fate ends here

Sir Leon is gone.

The floor collapsed under his big dumb heroic feet, and now he's trapped in the Labyrinth of Eternal Suffering.

A place so broken that even I don't fully understand how it works.

But that's his problem now.

Mine is dealing with the rest of the hero's party before they figure out what I've done.

Leon isn't the real danger.

He's a meathead with a big sword.

The real threats are the saint and the mage.

One heals.

The other rewrites reality with magic.

And if they get the chance to regroup, I'm screwed.

I roll my shoulders, stepping away from the abyss where Leon fell.

"General Horns."

The minotaur demon stiffens at my call. "Yes, My Lord?"

"Send units to patrol the labyrinth entrance. Make sure nothing gets out. If Sir Leon finds an exit, I want to know the second he breathes fresh air."

Horns bows. "Understood."

"And," I add, "bring me the reports on the saint and the mage's whereabouts."

Because I've already started a war with the gods.

Might as well win.

---

Meanwhile, In the Labyrinth of Eternal Suffering…

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

Sir Leon's screams echo through the endless corridors.

His armor is scratched. His divine sword flickers. And for the first time in his cheat-protected life… he's panicking.

"What kind of boss room is this?!" he roars, slamming his sword into a wall.

The wall doesn't break. Instead, it shifts. Like ink bleeding through paper, the maze restructures itself, closing in tighter.

Leon stares in horror. "What…?"

A low growl rumbles from the darkness.

His head snaps up. A pair of glowing red eyes emerge from the shadows.

A voice slithers through the air, thick with amusement.

"Oh? A fresh soul? How delightful."

Leon whirls around—

And the monster lunges.

---

Back to Me, the Guy Who Actually Matters

Now, where was I?

Oh, right. Cleaning up loose ends.

I step onto a high balcony overlooking the ruins of Floor 99.

Smoke and dust fill the air.

The saint and the mage are visible through the rubble, still alive.

They're using magic to stabilize themselves, but their path forward is blocked.

Which means they'll try to escape first.

And I can't let that happen.

Because if they get back to the Holy Kingdom, the gods will know exactly what I've done.

And they'll send someone worse.

So I cut off their retreat.

> [System Notice: Activating Floor 99's Emergency Protocol – "Sealed Death."]

RUMBLE.

A deep, ominous sound shakes the entire level.

Below me, the saint and the mage freeze. Their heads snap up just as the floor behind them starts crumbling into an abyss.

The mage gasps. "The floor is collapsing!"

The saint grabs her staff. "Something's wrong. This wasn't in the prophecy—"

No. No, it wasn't. Because I rewrote the script.

And I'm not letting them leave alive.

The mage reacts first.

"Teleportation!" she shouts, weaving a magic circle.

Oh, please. As if I didn't prepare for that.

> [System Notice: Teleportation is now Restricted.]

[Attempt Failed.]

The magic fizzles out.

The mage pales. "W-What?"

The saint's eyes widen. "We've been cut off from the outside—"

"Good observation," I call down, stepping to the edge of the balcony.

They snap their heads up, and the moment they see me standing above them, realization hits.

The mage glares. "You… you did this!"

"What, me?" I press a hand to my chest in mock offense. "You think I, the 'Evil Demon King,' would ever sabotage the brave heroes of prophecy? Perish the thought."

The saint clutches her staff.

Her hands are shaking, but her expression is determined. "You… You won't get away with this!"

I laugh. Loudly.

"I already have."

Then I snap my fingers.

The ruins shift. A dozen stone spikes shoot up from the ground, blocking every exit.

The only way forward? Is up.

Towards me.

The mage snaps first.

"We have to fight!" she cries. "If we work together, we can—"

The saint cuts her off. "…No."

The mage blinks. "What? But—"

"It's too late," the saint mutters. Her hands tremble. "We were supposed to follow prophecy. We were supposed to fight the Demon King in the throne room. But…"

Her gaze lifts to me.

"…He never waited."

And I swear—just for a moment—her faith cracks.

Because she realizes I've broken fate itself.

There's no scripted battle.

No guaranteed victory.

No divine rescue.

Just a real war.

And I am not playing fair.

I tilt my head. "So… how about a deal?"

The saint snaps up. "A… deal?"

The mage grabs her arm. "Don't listen to him! He's trying to—"

"What's the alternative?" I cut in, stepping forward. "You have nowhere to run. Your 'chosen hero' is gone. And every second you waste, the Holy Kingdom gets further away."

I watch the words sink in. The saint clenches her fists, torn between duty and survival.

Good.

I raise a hand.

"Swear your loyalty to me."

The mage gasps. "You're insane!"

But I keep my eyes on the saint.

"Swear loyalty, and I'll let you live."

Silence.

The saint's grip tightens around her staff.

Her breath shakes.

Then—

She speaks.

"…I…"

The mage's eyes widen. "No. No, don't—!"

"I…" the saint hesitates. Then—

BOOM.

A sudden explosion blasts through the ruins.

Dust erupts into the air, and from the smoke—

A new figure steps forward.

A lone woman, clad in a flowing white robe, her silver hair billowing.

Her presence is blindingly divine.

And the moment I see her, my blood runs cold.

Because I recognize her.

The Oracle of the Gods.

And she's staring right at me.

"Demon King," she says softly. "Your fate… ends here."