Chapter 13: Death Battle!

“Also had’da tak’a piss hic but I’m here now hic .“

The honesty of drunk people is quite hilarious, but I’ve never been more glad to hear Berserker’s drunk nonsense. When I open my eyes, the view is shocking. The giant is covered from head to toe in bleeding cuts and even more blood that doesn’t seem to be his.

Did he end up fighting an entire army of them on his own?!

“Berserker!” Kenneth runs to the scene, circumventing the fallen logs from the previous battle. “Thank the heavens! I thought everyone was a goner.”

“The day isn’t over yet, you know?” I grunt as he helps me to my feet and, unsuspectingly, provides me with some more mana. Immediately, I resume healing myself. Meanwhile, I cast my gaze onto the Demon Lord lying only a few feet away. A gaping wound now adorns the back of his head, painting his short black hair crimson. While he’s not out cold, the smack to the back of his head with Berserker’s mace must have knocked him senseless.

Berserker looks pretty unsteady on his legs, both his numerous wounds and the effects of too much alcohol threatening to bring him down, but seeing his favored target in a weakened state quickly restores his vigor.

“Time to hic kill you bastard hic !” he thunders, although the hiccup is just as tenacious as his murderous intent. Berserker wields his mace just like King Ragnar held his axe when he tried to kill me a moment before. From high above his head, he thrusts down his weapon, however…

“BASTARDS!!!”

… the Demon Lord regains control over his senses just in time to raise his axe protectively, blocking the attack. Quickly, Kenneth drags me further away lest we get caught up in the ensuing battle between the two behemoths. Both the giant human and the even taller demon are gravely wounded, blood spilling from their bodies as they encircle themselves on unsteady feet, searching for an opening to strike again.

“I’m fine, thanks,” I tell Kenneth as he finally lets go of me a few trees further away, the healing magic finally crossing the critical threshold needed to restore my body’s functionality to a degree. “My sword broke and the shield got tossed away, though.”

“Take mine,” Kenneth says as battle cries and metal clashing against metal sound through the air. “Keep healing yourself. I’ll fetch the shield for you.”

Wordlessly, I take the sword he offers me. It’s shorter than mine, but its weight is more or less the same. As my friend runs off into the forest, I observe the battle, unable to participate and help Berserker out. The behemoth just landed a brutal hit, the Demon Lord tumbling with several ribs shattered, judging by the cracking that split the air.

Berserker attempts to land another smack, aiming for the already bleeding wound on his opponent’s head, but the demon takes a step back, causing Berserker to lose his balance. Although he stumbles, he catches the fall, only receiving a minor cut from the Demon Lord, who predicted a complete crash and aimed accordingly.

Following this exchange of blows, both return to eyeing and circling each other.

He’s limping, he’s definitely limping…

The Demon Lord seems increasingly afflicted by the wounds to his left leg, his weight mainly resting on his healthy one, which he hasn’t turned into stone yet. Although it’s hard to spot, his size is decreasing ever so slightly over time.

He’s losing mana even though he doesn’t cast any spells. A battle of attrition… I need to help Berserker before he loses too much blood!

I peer around for Kenneth, but he hasn’t returned yet. Moreover, Berserker hasn’t noticed his opponent’s weak point yet.

“Attack his left leg - the one he turned into stone!” I yell in his direction, praying that the Demon Lord doesn't speak our tongue. Considering his hatred and disgust towards the human race, I sincerely doubt he understands me.

Berserker seems dumbfounded for a moment and almost gets hit as the Demon Lord uses the distraction to lunge forward with a low-curved swipe of his battle axe, but then he understands. Now engaged in combat again, mace and axe clash a few times until the demon goes for Berserker’s head after a low attack, precisely what our big guy must have waited for.

“AAAHHHH!!!”

A pained cry splits the forest air as Berserker’s mace effortlessly shatters the Demon King’s tibia despite the stone fortification. No longer able to hold his massive weight, he goes down and promptly takes a bash to the forehead, barely missing his glaring horns.

Good one, Berserker! That stunned him good!

The Demon Lord tumbles even as he’s down on his knees. Realizing his sudden chance, Berserker chains a few hits, adding more bleeding wounds to the Demon Lord’s skull, but the impact remains much smaller than one would expect. The Demon Lord himself has lost height again, hints of rock-like splinters sticking from the fresh wounds.

We can win this, we can win this! Come on, Berserker!

Our big guy seems to know. Stunned by the impacts, the Demon Lord can barely control mana and hardly raise his axe in defence. A mace, while terrible for making fast kills, is the perfect tool to knock someone unconscious while also breaking their skull or any other bone. The horns of a demon consist of a bone-like material, too. Berserker’s next swing is slightly off-target, but his weapon shatters one of the demon’s horns into several fragments.

A grave mistake.

“WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!”

The loss of a horn equals the loss of their honor. Seeing the Demon Lord restored to full vitality from fury alone, thus, is hardly a surprise. In his bottomless rage, the now one-horned demon reinforces his grip on the battle axe and swings it with excruciating vigor.

*shluck*

…and the axe finds its target this time.

NO!!!

Berserker doesn’t even scream when the humongous axe slices diagonally through his back, barely missing his spine and penetrating deep into the depths of his massive body. If anything, he freezes in disbelief and lets go of his mace while swinging it in mid-air.

FUCK!

I can tell at a glance that it’s game over for Berserker. The axe’s blade sits so deeply in his body that there’s no hope of it magically missing all vital organs and blood vessels in its destructive path. At the very least, it should have pierced his liver.

You monster! I’ll make you pay for this!

There’s no room for logic and reason to take a foothold in my mind, and even less time to wait for Kenneth, hurriedly jogging back to me with the shield in his hands. I grasp Ken’s sword in my hands, knowing unquestioningly how to use it. Whatever pain lingers around in my torn body, I no longer feel any of it. Bottomless rage and fear engulf me instead.

I charge. Trees fly by in a frenzy, and I slalom past them on autopilot, my gaze fixated on the Demon Lord only. Not on Kenneth yelling at me, not on Berserker slowly collapsing under his colossal weight, and not at the trickle of blood spilling from the mortal wound. There’s only one thing that matters now: Finishing the job.

The Demon Lord is back to his standard size as I charge at him, his mana used up by that attack. I will personally make sure it is the last transgression he will ever perform on me. My parents, my siblings, my home… and now he’s likely taking my guildmate with him to the grave. I will not allow him to take anything else from me.

Guided by my rage, I make my body lighter without even thinking about the spell, allowing me to leap the final distance through the air. The tip of the sword is aiming straight at the leader of the demon country when gravity pulls me back down. I timed the jump perfectly. One last time, the now powerless Demon Lord meets my eyes.

The last emotion I see in his ugly face before the blade thrusts straight through his upper chest is pure hatred. And with that same emotion of loathing, I end the life of Ragnar II. The Strong in an instant as my blade goes straight through the demon’s heart.