Alban looked thru the window at a four party adventurer. Those adventurers ran to his mansion’s gates and crushed every monsters in their way. He wore black long-sleeve button-up shirt, and black pants. Near his side stood a man clothed in white long-sleeve button-up shirt, black vest, and black pants. Gold accent's both the man’s vest, and pants.

"The hero has arrived," said Alban as he saw one of the adventurer’s party member slammed body sized shield to the iron gates. Again and again. Until a hole big enough for a human to pass thru the gate. "Lagios, do as we planned."

“Yes master.”

“Leave. If you’re still here the plan would fail.”

Alban cough seeing that his body is deteriorating. ‘You’ll be the fifth hero I fought in the last 900 years,’ Alban thought, ‘This body is long from its prime.’

“Then I’ll take my leave,” said Lagios.

Alban stands in front of his throne, holding his patience to run his plan.

“Until we meet again, master.”

The room’s entrance double door sang a rhythmic banging racket.

He unsheathed his demon sword and slashed his palm. His blood dropped to the demon sword’s blade. Black demonic aura—miasma—and [Corrosion Aura]. The former takes toll on living being and the latter is effective on armor. Both come from the sword’s blade.

The demon sword spoke, “UWAHHHH! Creator! You finally need me!”

“Shut up.”

“Creator’s blood is truly the best!”

The door wrecked opened. With the hinges still hold it in place, it smacked into the wall. The culprit? A big man holding a shield. The same one who broke the gate. ‘And… that’s the fifth time I gotta fix the door.’ The shield-barer shouts a war-cry. ‘I’ll make it out of adamantium next time.’

There are three other human behind him. One man wield a short-sword and ‘—everyday clothing!? In a fight!?’ The other two wore cloak, ‘Mages.’

The shield-barer rushed to Alban and his party follow behind him.

“Don’t be hasty,” said Alban, “[Flame Wall].”

Alban points his sword at the shield-barer, “You must be the hero.”

“What!? NO! He is!” The confused shield-barer looked at the everyday clothed man behind him. “He, Ogata Masa, the hero will defeat you, demon lord!”

The demon sword laugh and said “You think you could defeat my creator!? —“

‘They could! There’s only a little orichalcum in my blood left! Shut up!’

“White and red robe mages?” The sword laugh again. “Without a doubt holy and fire mage!”

The fire mage click his tounge.

“What a weird name. Ogata Masa was it?” said Alban, “So the humans are desperate and summoned in someone from other worlds.”

“You have no right to criticize us demon lord!”

Summoning someone from other worlds used a great deal of mana and its success depends on the quantity and quality of mana crystals. There’s a chance to get the high god’s wrath if they summoned someone important from other worlds. ‘The last time that happens—as I can remember—flattens an entire city with the peoples still in it.’

Alban turn his sword to the hero. “[Sphere of Darkness]”

“O’ the angel of light, lent upon us your power and to this darkness: [Angle’s Light]!” the holy mage chanted.

Alban ran to the hero but the shield-barer blocked his move and Alban’s sword hit the shield. “Adamantium,” mumbled Alban, “[Demon’s Flame].” The shield-barer groaned from the heat that made his armor’s color faint red. Alban then hit the shield-bearer's left side with his bare hand. The shield-barer moved aside to take a breath and let the hero behind take the lead.

Alban parried the hero’s sword with his gloved left palm. He felt a familiar aura around the hero’s sword. ‘Is that… holy attribute?’

“O’ spirits of water, lent upon us your power to cool down his armor: [Create water]” chanted the holy mage.

“So, you’re the user who uses the holy sword I made.” said Alban

“You made?” said the hero.

“Impossible! A Dem—“

Alban interrupted the fire mage, “[Wind of Anemoi: Apheliotes].” He casted the wind magic on both mages.

“Spirits of fire, borrow us your power and raise: [Wall of Fi—“ The fire mage failed to chant and blown to the holy mage and they crashed into the wall.

“Are you alright?” asked the hero. No answers from them. “Cih,” he clicked.

The shield-bearer's armor had cooled down and he’s able to move easily again and shouted a martial art “[Shield Bash]!”

Alban doges and counters with a higher tiered fire spell than [Demonflame], “[Hellflame].”

“Argh!” The shield-barer groaned.

Alban noticed that both mages had gained consciousness and about to stand. He casted, “[Blindness],” to the hero and moved to them to slit their throats. Then he walk to the throne.

The hero attempted to tackle Alban by hearing where Alban’s foot step were from but failed.

Alban sat on the throne. “[Dispel].”

“What!? Why…?” said the confused hero.

“Why?” said Alban, “I just want to talk.”

“Hah?”

“You may kill me after that.” Alban stab his demon sword to the floor. “Otherworlder. in other words, you, Ogata Masa, is not from here, are you?”

“Yes, I was summoned!” Ogata backed off a bit.

“The others?” Alban glanced at their dead body. “No. They’re not.—” ‘—They could use elemental magic.’

“Which country sent you?”

“Dhuma.”

“Dhuma? Well that’s, to be expected.—” ‘—The same with the other three heroes I fought.”

“Was this of your own volition?”

“I just want to get back to my world. It sucks here.”

“You may kill me now.”

The hero, with a bit of hesitation at start; pierced Alban’s chest, heart, and it went thru his back. “Haha… Killed by own sword. May we meet again...”

The demon lord’s body limped and Ogata pulled back his sword. He saw that his holy sword was cover with the demon lord’s blood. That blood had turned into crystals. Even the blood that spilled out of the body turned into crystals. A few drops of them hadn’t and touched the demon sword blade. The sword come back to life. Angered by his creator’s death it spewed out thick miasma and black root-like things crawled on the ground. The root-like things made red sparks of lightning.

The hero ran to the door and looked behind him into the room for the last time. “I’m sorry everyone.” He only saw but a glace that the demon lord’s body had white smoke coming from it and the smoke got sucked under the throne.

Roots from the demon sword grabbed his foot and tried to brought him down. Ogata stomped those roots until it broke only for it to grow back. But that did the trick and he’s freed from their grasps .He ran outside of the mansion. The roots chased him until he passed the gates. It stopped. It just stopped there. The roots that chased him stopped but the other roots that didn’t chase him, continued to grow. They grow until the whole mansion was covered in them like black veins. Then the black miasma expand to fog the mansion. The miasma expanded beyond the mansion’s gates. It was slow.

Ogata ran until he was far enough from the mansion that he considered it safe to rest up a bit. He felt as if his legs were melting and fell to the ground. He placed his holy sword covered with demon blood crystals. It began to absorb the miasma from the root’s marks.

After ten minutes or so he could walk again. He set himself to travel to the nearest city.

“I could finally go back.”