Galak groaned at the violent pain he felt as he applied healing potions all over his body. "Keup!"

Because the Spirit Sword had a special power to cut the soul, it wasn’t easy to heal even if he poured potions on himself as if he were taking a shower. In particular, the stab he’d sustained in the abdomen was at the level of the Heart Sword, so he hadn’t been able to block it properly, leaving a large wound.

"Ahaha, if I die of excessive bleeding like this, there won’t be a death as funny as this.” Galak walked across the empty church to the central altar, enduring the pain of his entire body feeling as if it were on fire. He remarked, "Oho, is this the ceremony to summon the Demon King?"

The altar on which the Holy Grail had been placed was heavily weighed down, as if it were being pressed down by mana.

"It's like Zaharam, which used to be called the Holy Land,” Galak said in appreciation.

Libra, who had been kneeling in front of the altar and reciting an incantation, stood up and looked at Galak. "Hmph, even the Hero of the world can't hold his own in front of his child? That's ridiculous."

"Ahahaha! You're looking down on our tribe. In my hometown, we don’t go easy even on our children. As long as you're...