I'm Actually Not Overpowered!

175 Request To The Pale Rider

Hell!

The Divine Realm of the Demon God himself.

Within this celestial plane, there existed twelve beings who are seen as the harbingers of chaos and destruction—the personification of malevolence.

They are known as the 12 Great Ones—

The Four Horsemen

The Seven Deadly Sins

And the Primordial Fear

They are the supreme beings—Arch-Demons that stood at the pinnacle of them all.

And, among these twelve—a member of the Four Horsemen—there is Death... also known as the Pale Rider.

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"Tell me, human. What is your request?" The fabled Arch-Demon from Hell spoke.

His tone carried authority unlike any other, and the dangerous aura he emitted made everything around him experience corrosion.

Blackness spread across the earth, and the air turned stale.

As the Rider awaited his answer, the human at the center of the circle raised his hand and pointed at the being that stood at a distance.

"That demon... kill him for me."

Demon Lord Valefor instantly shrieked. His bloodshot eyes captured the pointed finger of a mere human—something he would have swiftly cut off, were it not for the powerful being beside him.

"Very well. Your desires have been heard." The being called Death responded, stale breath emanating from his dry and chapped lips.

He stretched forth his hand, and instantly an obsidian sickle manifested. It gleamed with an orange glow in the evening sun—though the darkness that manifested on it slowly overshadowed any form of illumination.

The sickle seemed to carry the very essence of death, and Valefor realized what would happen if he so much as touched it.

Shuddering in terror—though trying his hardest to suppress it—the Demon Lord's mind went to work.

How could he hide what he himself could not understand? The fear and primal instinct to flee. Had he ever felt something so intense?

So degrading?!

'N-no... what's this?' Valefor's mind struggled to maintain his sanity.

"Apologies, demon. Your life is no longer yours."

Death's horse slowly began to move, and a misty darkness surrounded the steed it mounted. The black cloud lifted the steed until it levitated, as it approached Valefor.

"W-wait! What are you doing?! Why are you against a demon? Why are you siding with a human?!"

To the demons of this world, Arch-Demons were akin to Angels that humans looked up to—messengers of God himself.

How could a divine herald of the Demon God—regardless of how powerful—turn against a demon? How could they pay heed to the words of human scum?

Valefor could not comprehend it, and he hoped his words would cause the being known as Death to see reason.

"I would advise you not to speak or struggle. Your fate has already been sealed."

Swinging his scythe, the Rider closed in on Valefor—as a predator would his prey. It frightened the currently frozen Demon Lord.

He couldn't even dare to fight, and now it had been proven that he couldn't reason with the Arch-Demon.

The only thing he could do... was run!

>VWUUUSHHH<

A spatial rupture instantly appeared behind Valefor as he attempted to escape. Purple and black flashes surrounded him, ready to transport him to the farthest place he could flee to.

At this point, he no longer cared about honor or appearances. He simply had to escape.

'The resources I went through all this trouble for are gone. There's no point in hanging around!'

Holding fast to this rationale, Valefor swiftly made his escape.

However—

>SWOOOSHH<

—In one swing of Death's Scythe, the dark rupture of space vanished. It canceled itself out!

'W-wha—?!'

Valefor didn't have time to be shocked, though. He simply had to use his short-distance teleportation to run away as soon as possible and—

>VWUUUUSHHHH<

Even that didn't work. The moment he activated his Miasma to vanish, Death would swing his scythe and kill off the Spell.

'T-then... I run!'

Death's approach so far had been slow. If he fled from the enemy before he could catch up, then, perhaps he had a chance!

At least, that was what Valefor thought.

"Cease your pointless struggle." Death suddenly appeared behind Valefor, causing his eyes to bulge in shock.

"Or don't. Either way, you will die."

"H-how... so fast?!" The Demon Lord shuddered, as he felt the chill of death on his neck.

"Death appears when no being expects. It starts out slow and foreseeable. However, it becomes sudden. Unprecedented. Unpredictable. As well as..."

Death raised his scythe, his voice echoing through the vicinity. Valefor managed to tilt his head and stare at the entity behind him.

"... Inevitable."

Thus, the scythe was swung.

For the first time, as Valefor felt the scythe near him, he saw Death's face.

It was pale. Dry. Gruesome. Not completely flesh, yet not a skeleton either. Somewhere in the middle. So grotesque and ugly.

Yet, Death was smiling.

A smile that reflected the ease at which he took life.

>FWUUUUSSSHHH<

The speed was nigh imperceivable, and the scythe cleanly cut through Valefor. Helplessly flailing in the sky, the Demon Lord's body was torn in two—though only temporarily.

Soon, his very flesh and bones were consumed by darkness, and his soul was harvested by Death.

The Scythe took in all of him, leaving nothing behind.

Valefor was completely engulfed in the dark, cold embrace of death. His last thoughts?

'No... I wanted to survive... I wanted... to rise.' It was a selfish desire.

An inclination towards power. He still didn't care for his dead soldiers or the unknown fate that awaited his son—or even the numerous children he had.

Valefor's dying thoughts were about himself!

However, even those sentiments faded, lost in the eternal pit that was Death.

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"Your request has been carried out." Death returned to the ground, directly facing his summoner.

The human Hero who possessed just the right set of Skills and Titles to summon an Arch-Demon from Hell.

Not only were humans who summoned demons rare, but even those who did, ended up calling upon the weaklings of Hell—The Lesser Fallen.

How could a mere human possess the capacity to summon one of his caliber? This was merely a single one of the numerous questions that Death had within him.

How did the human know of him and his other colleagues? How did he know to prepare the proper setting and offer the appropriate sacrifices?

He knew too much.

"The offerings you offered are yet to be fully compensated for. Do you have yet another request for me to carry out?"

The death of a single weakling was hardly worth summoning someone of his rank. A Higher Fallen could complete the task.

Why would he skip past the Elders and Nobles to summon him, a Great One? Death had multiple questions, but he maintained his silence and awaited the next words that would come out of the human's mouth.

"I want the revival of every life that has been extinguished within this city—of course, except for the Demon Lord that you just vanquished."

Death was mildly surprised. Not because of the request itself, but because he didn't expect his summoner to be so ignorant about the due process.

If he had enough knowledge to summon him, then shouldn't he have understood how tall of an order his request was.

"With the offerings you have sacrificed, that request can not be fulfilled."

"Even if the Souls do not need to be procured?" The human pointed upward.

Death raised his head to see what his summoner was referring to. He never expected it, the sight above him was unbelievable.

"You preserved their Souls in the barrier? I see. Soul attraction Runic Magic. Impressive."

It was a mystery how the human was able to learn such advanced Magic, but Death understood it wasn't his place to ask questions.

He operated on a code, and he was determined to follow through with his contract. However—

"Even with their Souls present, your offerings are still insufficient. You will not be able to resurrect them all." Death said.

The precious ores, gems, Holy Water, Mana Chalk, raw materials, etc, that his summoner provided was valuable. Incredibly so.

It was well past a fortune.

When people sought to resurrect their loved ones through a contract with Hell, they gave up their fortune and most valued objects.

If Death used the same standards, then perhaps he would be able to resurrect a hundred people? Maybe a little close to one hundred and fifty?

Still, bringing everyone back was not possible with his insufficient sacrifice.

"What if I sacrifice something else?" The human muttered.

Death, as always, reasonably weighed the choice. There was hardly anything of value the human possessed—at least, from what he could sense.

He also wasn't very powerful, compared to other beings in this world. There was hardly anything of value that he could offer in exchange for what he wanted.

"My Levels, I'll give them to you."

Death sighed. He understood the desperation of the living. But, that didn't mean he had to tolerate it.

"Even that is not enou—"

"No. Not just now. I mean all my Levels, all the Levels I'll ever obtain. Now and for as long as I remain in this world."

The human's eyes contained a resolve Death had never seen in anyone before. Even though his body trembled, and his clenched fists clearly revealed that this was something he didn't want to do, he stood by his words.

Tears fell from his eyes, and a deep sense of grief and regret coursed through him, but Death didn't sense any hesitation at all.

It was a pure sacrifice.

"I'll give everything to you. So, save them! Save everyone!"

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[A/N]

Thanks for reading, everyone. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

The Demonic Crisis Arc is about to end, and I want to appreciate you all for sticking with me throughout this volume.

I certainly hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I liked writing it.

Cheers!

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