On the other hand, the Demon Lord noticed the attack, and let out a yawn.
(What a joke...)
He nearly sighed watching the arrow whizzing towards him. The attacker didn’t seem to make any effort to conceal their presence, and the arrow itself was nothing special. No effects on it at all. In the Game, this would have been a Rain of Arrows, an equipped skill that loosens two dozen insta-kill arrows. To the Demon Lord, this arrow seemed like it was loosed carelessly at some random pedestrian.
(Should I just take it...?)
The Demon Lord braced himself to take the hit. He wanted to test how much damage it would do. Since he hadn’t encountered any enemies since that one devil, he never had the opportunity to perform any experiments in combat. Just in case, he had already turned off the automatic Retaliation and automatic Countering features. It was difficult to trust them, since the Demon Lord couldn’t gauge what the criteria were to activate those features. Worst case scenario, he could inadvertently retaliate to a harmless action with lethal force. Against a bizarre monster, that wouldn’t be a problem, but against a human? That didn’t sit right with the Demon Lord.
“Aku, step back.”
“...What?”
The whizzing arrow seemed almost stationary to the Demon Lord. Which wasn’t a surprise. In the game, the Demon Lord dodged machine gun fire and even shotgun scatter shots. When the arrow finally arrived in front of the Demon Lord, a small ping was heard before the arrow could hit him. Countless black octagonal shields surrounded the Demon Lord. Intercepted by one of them, the arrow fell to the ground, having lost all of its momentum.
“Under level 30, huh...? What a noob.”
Only players who had reached level 30 (the maximum in the game) could damage the final boss. Players below that level didn’t even deserve a battle against the Demon Lord. Of course, even players with maxed-out stats couldn’t keep up against him. Just like the final boss of an RPG, it was nearly impossible to damage the Demon Lord without burning through all sorts of items. Worst of all, his HP was astronomical.
“Why are you trying to get the kill from the nosebleeds up there?”
The Demon Lord called out, and the bandits finally showed themselves. Each of them wore shock and dismay on their expression.
“What the hell did you do...!? You gotta be a mage!”
“You think you’re invincible, huh? Once your Stamina runs out, you’re just a punching bag!”
“Punching bag, huh...? Good to know.”
A grin grew across the Demon Lord’s face. Aku had mentioned magic to him, but she didn’t know much about it, leaving him more curious about the subject than he preferred.
“Any mages over there? Hit me with your best shot.”
The bandits stirred. This was beyond cocky. The Demon Lord was acting as if he were performing experiments on mere insects. With his patience run thin, the leader walked up, his beard swaying.
“You talk pretty big game, old man.”
“Who’re you calling an old man!?”
The Demon Lord couldn’t help but shout. Stunned, the leader fell speechless as awkward silence filled the mountain.
“I’m the leader of the Mole, Wo Wungol. You’re...”
“Own Goal?”
“Wo Wungol! Why are you saying it like that!?”
“...So what do you want, Safety Man?”
“Safety...! You got mud in your ears!?”
This petty argument between two middle-aged men was not pretty to watch.
(Hey... I recognized his face... I think.)
The Demon Lord stared at the leader, who was puffing his chest, arms crossed. He tried in vain to recall where he had seen this man, but he didn’t know anyone with such a wild beard. In fact, he imagined not many men in the entirety of Japan would look like such a stereotypical bandit.
“You’re pretty filthy, huh...? You got a neckbeard going. You look like you haven’t bathed in a year.”
“Huh! Like I haven’t bathed? I don’t know what kind of money you’ve got, but you’re pissing me off!”
Reacting to their leader’s rage, the bandits ran down the mountain, surrounding the pair.
“M-Master Demon Lord! We’re in trouble... Let’s make a run for it!”
Aku yelled, her skin glowing from the past few nights spent taking an oil-drum bath. A glow that really made her look out of place among the dusty, middle-aged men around her.
“Demon Lord...? You make this kid kiss your ass like that, huh, old man?”
One of the bandits burst out laughing, causing a roar of laughter and knee-slapping among the rest. A vein popped up on the Demon Lord’s forehead, but who could blame the bandits for laughing? They could only imagine a man well into his middle-age playing pretend as the Demon Lord. The problem was, of course, that this man was the real deal.
“Alright... Let’s play a game, then...”
With that, the Demon Lord flicked the forehead of the man who first laughed, with his finger. He was blown away, as if by a gust of wind, and skipped across the ground a few times before rolling to a halt like a tumbleweed. By the time he had stopped, the bandit was twitching here and there, knocked out cold.
“Now, it’s your turn... Oh, you can’t get up? This one goes to me, then.”
With a grimace, the Demon Lord looked at the bandits. They had all been speechless, but eventually went into a tizzy. Watching them, the Demon Lord cackled:
“Own goal, indeed. I suppose that’s your goal over there, where he went tumbling.”
“Shut up! What the hell did you do!?”
“He’s got some sort of spell on his finger!”
...A spell, you say?
Suddenly, a voice was heard from the distance, drawing the bandits’ attention. In an instant, screams and wails echoed through the mountain. A golden light sparked out of the source of the voice, reducing the bandits to shreds.