"The skills you received… they come from my Four Heavenly King Sculptures—I made them pouring my heart into them." His tone remained casual, but the power behind his words was absolute.
It was then that the players finally understood—
The skills they had just obtained weren't freely given.
They were nothing more than bait.
And now, the real battle was about to begin.
"What are you all waiting for? Kill them all."
Blade commanded lazily, his voice dripping with amusement.
At his words, the four sinister figures beside him—Elfin Stone, Latina, Tiramet, and Mumud the Lich—stepped forward, their overwhelming auras crashing down upon the 221 players like a suffocating wave.
The players quickly organized into teams, instincts honed through countless battles taking over. Frontline tanks raised their shields, mages began chanting spells, and archers nocked their arrows, aiming for weak points.
But the Four Death Generals didn't wait.
Elfin Stone, the Blood Swordsman, dashed forward with vampiric grace, his crimson blade leaving trails of dark energy in the air as he tore through the front line with terrifying speed and precision.
Tiramet, the hulking enforcer, stepped in next. His massive body radiated raw strength as he crashed into the enemy formation, each punch and stomp shaking the earth, sending players flying like ragdolls.
Latina, the dark mage and necromancer, floated behind them, her hands weaving curses and death spells with elegance and cruelty. Undead soldiers rose from beneath the battlefield at her command, turning fallen players into puppets for her army.
And then there was Mumud the Lich—his skeletal fingers raised his ancient staff as he chanted in an otherworldly tongue. Waves of black fire and corrosive magic rained down upon the battlefield, corrupting the land itself and crippling the players' ability to heal.
The players gritted their teeth, overwhelmed by the sheer force of their enemies.
This was no ordinary raid.
This was a battle against death incarnate.
And so, the third battle began—a desperate struggle between life and annihilation.
****
"It's a great hit!"
On the Satisfy side, the atmosphere was electric. The viewership of the Demon King Raid had skyrocketed. People around the world were tuning in, their eyes glued to the screens as the epic confrontation unfolded.
The live chat was flooded with messages, emojis, and reactions:
"This is insane!"
"Did you see that magic?!"
"The Lich just wiped out a whole party!"
"GOOO Grid!"
More and more players were being drawn in—not just as spectators, but as strategists, fans, and aspiring heroes. Some tried to break down the tactics in real time, others cheered for their favorite guilds or rankers.
Meanwhile, the marketing team at Satisfy headquarters was barely keeping up with the excitement. Sponsorships were pouring in, and the analytics were breaking records.
"Let's call the catering team! Order the biggest feast—we're trending in every region," said one excited producer, practically leaping from his seat.
"Don't forget the chicken and cider combo!" another added, laughing as everyone in the room cheered.
But behind all the celebration, a shadow loomed.
The latest broadcast zoomed in on the Demon King's throne room, where chaos reigned. The Four Death Generals were rampaging through the 221 top-ranked players. The battlefield was scorched with black fire, stained with blood magic, and choked by a wave of summoned undead.
And at the center of it all sat Blade, the Demon King—watching with a calm smile, as if the entire raid was nothing more than a theatrical performance written just for him.
"This is only the beginning," Blade muttered under his breath, fingers tapping idly on the side of his throne. He wasn't even fighting yet—but the heroes were already being pushed to the brink.
"Let's see how far your will can take you."
Then he glanced at a crystal floating beside his throne, showing the players who had earned skills from the sculptures—those 40 lucky individuals.
"They may be your hope," he said softly, "but they are mine as well. The final act hasn't even begun."
And somewhere behind that smile… there was a plan in motion. Something far beyond a game.
He was human too.
That simple truth was what made him far more terrifying.
Despite the monstrous power he wielded… despite the title Demon King... he wasn't some ancient demon from hell, or a system-created boss. He was a player—a human like them.
So whatever plans they were making, whatever assumptions they clung to—they would never work.
Not on someone who could think like them, who had played like them, and yet surpassed them all.
"Hit the summoner first!" shouted a ranked player from the middle lines.
He had judged the battlefield swiftly—but perhaps, too simply.
The logic seemed sound: eliminate the one controlling the undead army, and the tide of death would crumble. Many assumed the Demon King was merely commanding from the shadows, using a high-level lich to do the dirty work.
So, a squad of elite players broke from formation, charging straight toward Mumud the Lich, believing he was the source—the master puppeteer behind the walking corpses.
But…
Was it really that simple?
No.
Mumud wasn't just some mob or pawn.
He was once a Legendary Magician—a genius of his era, a man who had even stood at the pinnacle of human magic. His fall into undeath had only twisted his brilliance into something darker… something more lethal.
And the players had just willingly walked into his circle of death.
The air around Mumud shimmered with cursed mana, like heat rising from black flames. His hollow eyes scanned the charging elites with cold, arcane calculation.
Without a word, he lifted his staff.
A magic circle—intricate and terrifying—unfolded in the air beneath them.
"Wait—he's casting—"
Too late.
[Cataclysmic Dark Nova]
A storm of black lightning erupted around Mumud, tearing through armor, shields, and health bars in an instant. Screams filled the air as players were knocked back, limbs scorched, potions useless under the anti-healing debuff.
"He's not just a summoner!" one survivor shouted, crawling backward, his HP nearly gone.
"He's a raid boss on his own!"
And in that moment, it became clear:
Targeting Mumud had been a mistake.
A lethal one.
They were not fighting a summoned creature.
They were facing a legend—undead or not.
And worse still, they hadn't even touched the Demon King himself yet…
*******
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