Boom! Boom! Boom!
Earth-shaking blasts kept rolling through Purgatory, the ground trembling nonstop. The Demon King was in a rage, laying waste to everything around him without restraint.
At first, Charles tried to tank the Demon King's opening blows, but he quickly changed tactics.
A god is a god; at full power, the Demon King possessed strength far beyond Charles. And Charles wasn't some masochist who enjoyed punishment—of course he wasn't going to keep trading blows head-on.
Flaming dragon wings beat behind him as Charles twisted in midair, slipping past the down-swinging greatsword yet again.
He had also found the Demon King's weakness. That enormous body, while it granted unfathomable power, also burdened his movement.
Yes, devouring Purgatory's power had kept making the Demon King stronger—but strength not gained through training always comes with a few side effects, however mighty.
Seeing Meliodas already standing before the Gate of Purgatory, the Demon King grew more irritable.
He had gone to such lengths to hollow out Meliodas's soul, turning his body into the most suitable vessel for his own descent.
If Meliodas got away, who knew how much trouble it would cause him.
Fury rising, the Demon King stopped slashing at Charles and instead raised his sword to the sky.
"Void!"
A black, spherical space formed, and the airborne Charles was instantly crushed to the ground.
If the earlier pressure had been his unconscious aura leaking from sheer power, this was that force driven to its limit.
The air within the sphere warped, and Charles was pinned under a sudden surge of gravity.
The Demon King had no intention of finishing Charles; he strode to chase Meliodas instead.
"Told you—your opponent is me!"
His steps halted. He glanced back to see Charles slowly straightening up. A pillar of flame speared skyward, ripping straight through the black energy layer.
The barrier the Demon King himself had set was torn apart in an instant and dissolved into nothingness.
Riding the updraft of fire, Charles shot back into the sky.
"Fire Dragon King's Crushing Fist!"
In that towering blaze, the Demon King seemed to see a crimson-scaled dragon soar out, a clenched dragon fist driving at him.
With a thunderous bang, his massive body tilted like a collapsing hill, a searing fist-mark glaring on his chest.
"We're not done yet!"
Sliding back half a step from his punch, Charles lifted a leg, deep-red flames coiling up his shin.
"Fire God Dragon's Hook Claw!"
Humans called it by that name, but Ignia truly was a dragon bearing a god's title. His Flame of Ruin absolutely rivaled divine fire.
Charles kicked the Demon King's sweeping greatsword; the touch melted a gaping hole straight through the blade, and the follow-up strike drove the Demon King two steps backward.
And in that time, Meliodas and Ban had already leapt into the exit from Purgatory.
Watching this, the Demon King's fury blasted to the heavens. Purgatory's sky darkened under his wrath, and his raging magic conjured torrents of black lightning.
All that boundless rage now had only one target: Charles, who had stayed behind.
"Human, you will pay for this unforgivable sin!"
"Try me—if you can," Charles said, unconcerned.
The Demon King's eyes flared with a piercing red light. In the next instant, his greatsword flashed in a horizontal cut and sent Charles flying.
This slash was far faster than before—it struck before Charles could guard.
The Dragonflame Battle Gear at Charles's waist shattered, scattering into red motes of magic.
He understood it clearly now: earlier, the Demon King's heart hadn't been in the fight against him. Only now was he showing his true strength.
Retracting his blade, the Demon King said, "Very well. Behold a god's power."
Charles wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, a mad grin on his face.
"Just what I wanted."
He didn't back down. Faced with the Demon King taking things seriously, he charged first.
"Ants should crawl on the ground!"
The Demon King extended his palm. Dark magic gathered in it, then fanned out as countless black beams scythed toward Charles.
He slipped past a few, letting them erupt in a chain of explosions behind him, but another beam nailed him squarely and shoved him far back.
He seized the beam with both hands and tore it in half, then drove his fists out to smash through several more at once.
The Demon King's assault didn't let up. As Charles batted aside the final beam, the greatsword came down.
With a booming crash, the blade split the land, sinking most of its length into the ground.
The Demon King narrowed his eyes. Through the dust, he saw Charles sprinting up the sword's spine.
Accelerating again, Charles vaulted the last stretch, flames condensing around him for another burst of speed. He was about to drive a fist into the Demon King—
A giant black palm swatted across, the gust scattering the dust entirely—and swatted Charles out of the air.
Watching Charles smash into the ground like a cannonball, the Demon King wore a cruel, satisfied smile.
He was just about to check the Gate of Purgatory to see if he could still snatch Meliodas back when Charles's voice came again from behind.
"Where are you going? Our fight isn't over."
"You are persistent, human," the Demon King said, extremely displeased. "But toughness alone is useless."
Charles rolled his aching shoulder. Truth be told, no one had pushed him this far in a long time—the last one had been Ignia.
Unlike thrill-seeking Ignia, however, the Demon King wanted him dead.
This time there was no \[Dragonslayer] bonus to lean on, and the opponent had \[Demon King], the magic that inverts magical attacks. No question—this fight was far harsher.
All the better to set his blood boiling.
"Less talk. I just finished loosening up."
Flames erupted off him, and he vanished.
His Development Ability, "Fighter"—a rarity even the god Hephaestus had never seen—proved invaluable here.
Wounded or not, his fighting spirit only surged higher, and his flames burned hotter.
Before the Demon King could react, a heavy punch slammed the top of his head, snapping a horn off his helmet.
"Your power… increased!"
He drove Charles back with a sword stroke and roared, "What are you?"
Exhaling a white breath, Charles said, "Just a passing Dragonslayer. Remember that."
Answering the god's deathbed question, Charles rushed back in.
Black and red lights crisscrossed. The deafening detonations never once stopped, rumbling on for two days and a night.
The Demon King rammed his greatsword into the ground, his breathing kicking up gale after gale.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd fought at such intensity. With his might, he could battle for dozens or hundreds of years without fatigue, yet after a mere day and a half, even he felt a hint of weakness.
Across from him, Charles was in far worse shape. Over eighty percent of his Dragonflame Battle Gear was shattered; his body was laced with wounds; one arm hung limp at his side, blood dripping into a small pool. He looked ready to collapse at any moment.
"For my son, you went this far. Was it worth it?" the Demon King said coldly.
"Not just for Meliodas," Charles replied, ragged as he was. "I'm having a great time."
"In that case," the Demon King said, "die with that feeling."
"I'm not dying here," Charles smiled. "I've got a lot left to do."
He produced a vial and raised it to his lips.
The Demon King didn't stop him. No potion, however miraculous, could alter the inevitable.
Sure enough, after he drank, many of Charles's wounds closed, but it was only a veneer of strength.
He flexed his mended arm and took out something else.
A metal coffer—through the filigree you could see a clear crystal within, and inside the crystal, a roiling black gas.
"What is that?"
He would never assume Charles had pulled out something useless—his instincts screamed that this boded ill.
"In my homeland there's a principle," Charles said. "Dragons are best slain by dragon power; demonic force is best for hunting demons. So to fight a god like you—what power should I use?"
Watching him move, the Demon King knew on instinct he couldn't let Charles—and especially that thing—get close.
"Begone!"
He roared and unleashed nearly all his magic.
Suddenly, a searing pain flared in his chest. He looked down to see a blaze roaring where Charles had struck him earlier.
It was the wound Charles had left before. Throughout the fight, Charles had been compressing flame into it, feeding it in until this moment, when he detonated it all at once.
For the Demon King, it was a mere scratch—easily healed—but it opened a gap in his offense.
Charles didn't miss. A Fire Dragon's Roar tore apart the dark energy surging to meet him.
By the time the Demon King blew away all the flames, Charles had already fallen back far away—racing for the Gate of Purgatory.
"Run? Never!"
He moved to give chase—then noticed the coffer Charles had held was now lodged in his chest, its metal casing flaking apart.
He had no time to react. The black gas within the crystal went wild. Cracks webbed the crystal, and in less than a second it shattered completely.
The black gas burst free of its double shell, and the first thing it corroded was, of course, the Demon King.
"What is… this?"
From the spot where the coffer was embedded, his black flesh turned ashen gray. He dropped to one knee, and black, sludge-like matter spilled from his crimson eyes.
"Curse you, human!"
He raised his head just in time to see Charles, a triumphant smile on his face, tipping backward into the Gate of Purgatory.
Chasing was out of the question—he couldn't even move.
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