After that powerful shockwave, I twisted my body to the side, dissipating the rebound force.
The Denkomaru shifted from blocking Demaon's claw horizontally to a vertical cut, sinking deep into his arm.
Then I quickly changed the blade's momentum, swinging it horizontally again.
Demaon seemed unprepared for my swift swordplay—his extended claw was like putting his hand on a chopping block in front of the horizontal slash.
I swung with force, cleanly severing Demaon's elbow and the claw below it in one stroke.
Blood sprayed everywhere, making Dorami and the others watching on the monitor wince.
Shizuka's heart pounded—Nobita had been fighting such a monster all along!
Miyoko felt like her heart was being squeezed tight.
Only Miyoko's mom let out a sigh; she didn't want her child to step onto a battlefield someday.
So deep down, she was grateful to Nobita for standing at the forefront for everyone.
At that moment, only the yelling Gian and Suneo treated it like watching a hero movie, completely unfazed.
The group, with their varied expressions, turned their eyes back to the screen.
Inside, just as I severed Demaon's claw, he screamed in pain from losing his arm.
I didn't stop just because I'd cut off his arm—instead, I took the chance to press the attack.
Because I knew an injury like that wouldn't be fatal to him.
So, another instant teleport, and I vanished again. Demaon saw me disappear.
Clutching his arm, he spun around, warily scanning his surroundings.
But the pain dulled his nerves a bit, and while he was tensely staring ahead,
I instantly appeared behind him, swinging the Denkomaru horizontally to take his head.
Demaon turned to block with his hand, but he'd forgotten—that hand was already gone.
The Denkomaru's momentum didn't stop; a yellow flash passed through Demaon's neck, with the tearing sound of flesh being sliced.
I'd decapitated Demaon with one stroke, blood spraying from his severed head.
As Dorami and the others outside the barrier cheered, thinking the Demon King was defeated,
Demaon's flying head suddenly spoke.
"It hurts!"
"It hurts!"
"It really hurts! It's been so long since I became the Demon King that I've felt this kind of bone-deep pain!"
Demaon's head twisted in agony, his face and voice distorted, accompanied by hissing sounds.
"What a shame!"
"What a shame!"
"I'm immortal!"
Demaon let out a furious roar, then his flying head fell silent.
But his headless body emitted a strong green light. At the severed neck and arm, flesh twisted and swelled wildly—not just the neck, but the arm too, looking the same.
Fleshy buds writhed like octopuses or squirming maggots, utterly disgusting.
Seeing this, I was about to step forward to finish him off when the green light faded. Not only had Demaon's arm regenerated, but his head had grown back too.
"I told you, I'm immortal and indestructible!"
Demaon, back to his original form, grinned ferociously at me.
"Is he really immortal and indestructible?" Shizuka watched this scene with some despair, and the others felt the same.
Even though they knew Doraemon was about to blow up the entire Demon World planet,
Would Demaon really die then?
Could the destruction of an entire planet actually destroy him?
The group lost some confidence.
But right there on the scene, I had no choice but to face Demaon head-on.
I gripped the Denkomaru, watching Demaon. I was breathing heavily now—after that intense clash, I'd burned through a lot of stamina.
Demaon had regenerated to normal, but immortality didn't ease physical fatigue.
Plus, I'd slashed him several times and even cut off his head—the neural pain couldn't be ignored.
So he didn't choose to attack either.
"Nobita Nobi, give up! I'm immortal and indestructible."
"You already know my heart is that red moon, right?"
"You can't destroy it, so I won't die."
"Do you know why I'm so powerful? With a heart the size of the red moon as my energy source, my magic is inexhaustible."
"If you give up resisting and let me kill you, I'll spare your family after I conquer Earth."
Demaon seemed to think his power could convince me to commit suicide.
But I didn't respond—I just thought he was an idiot. Since ancient times, people persuade others to surrender, not to kill themselves.
If he'd said something like, after conquering Earth, I'd get to pick any woman on the planet, or manage Earth for him,
Maybe I'd be interested.
But he comes right out with, "Hurry up and die," with no benefits, just sparing my family.
Jeez, he really wanted me dead fast!
Only a fool would surrender!
Of course, even if there were benefits, I wouldn't surrender. Handing your life to an enemy is the stupidest idea.
Seeing me still gripping the Denkomaru tightly without a word, Demaon realized his words were useless.
Of course, he wasn't regretful—it was just casual talk.
At that moment, we both knew words meant nothing now.
All that faced us was a fight to the death.
Sure enough, after a brief breather, Demaon couldn't wait and launched an attack. After all, with his immortality, he could afford trial and error.
The familiar claw strike, wrapped in flames and lightning, came at me.
I wasn't about to back down either—I raised the Denkomaru and slashed back at Demaon.
Claw and long blade clashed repeatedly, ringing out like hammering iron.
But our lightning-fast attacks and blocks were awe-inspiring.
This was why, after fighting so long, no demon clans had shown up around us.
It wasn't that Demaon didn't want to use human wave tactics.
He just couldn't spare the time to command his army, and after seeing how easily I used Planetary Devastation,
Demaon knew no number of demon clans could withstand a few hits of that.
So, better to go solo!
At least he had immortality.
Demaon and I kept crossing and clashing; the Denkomaru in my hands swung like a shadow, while Demaon's claws filled the sky.
Yellow and black lights collided constantly, then separated, then collided again.
During this, he grabbed me once, but thanks to my telekinetic armor, it only shattered the armor, sending yellow crystal fragments flying.
Demaon wasn't faring well either—I'd chopped off one of his legs.
Though his immortality let him regenerate, the physical pain still slowed him down a bit.
In our constant mutual attacks, sweat soaked our clothes. The sweat dripping from our faces was instantly evaporated by the Demon World flames clinging to Demaon.
Our breathing grew heavier, but like two stubborn oxen, we kept pounding away.
Continuing this fight to the death.