Chapter 1 : Failure, And
Chapter 1: Failure, And
He had been an honour student.
He had entered the Demon King Military Academy as valedictorian and had graduated as valedictorian.
There had been no demon above him, and no one had surpassed him.
‘The Demon King’s Standard’
He had dug even deeper into the theory that had been established ever since the Demon Realm began expanding.
And when he finally became a complete Demon King and was dispatched to a dimension, it had shone brilliantly.
He had followed the playbook more faithfully than anyone.
He had proceeded step by step with his grand plan exactly as written.
He built a tower and kidnapped a princess.
He became the mastermind behind the scenes, stirred up chaos, and supported the heroes in every possible way so they could grow.
In the tower that had grown past the 20th floor, he placed goblins on the 1st floor and a balrog on the 19th. And on the throne at the summit, he sat and waited for the heroes.
Everything was perfect.
Everything went according to plan.
The playbook had not been wrong, and at last he had only a single final step remaining.
He had never imagined that he would be unable to take that last step.
He, the Demon King, the Demon Realm itself, had never dreamed that the playbook they worshipped would be jeered at and trampled by mere humans.
* * *
Cough—
He spat blood. Reality that made no sense sometimes bred denial.
He could not face reality.
Why his proud Black Flames were failing to harm the heroes?
Why the hero’s red blade could pierce his scales, harder than any metal in the world, and reach his heart.
He could not understand.
“How...?”
Confusion overtook fear of death.
He had followed the Demon King’s Standard faithfully.
He kidnapped princesses so the wrath of kingdoms would turn toward him, and as the mastermind in the shadows he gathered even more hatred and sorrow from others.
Those emotions had made him stronger.
Most restrictions of dimensional interference had been lifted, and a vast portion of land had been demonized—complete conquest had been within reach.
And the next step he had taken was helping the heroes grow.
Their special emotions were priceless. That was why the playbook commanded him to raise them and devour them.
He had raised them according to its teachings. Now he only needed to sit atop the tower, revel in the ripened heroes, and intoxicate himself with demonic energy.
Then why was he the one collapsing?
“How? You Demon King bastards are all the same, aren’t you?”
Poke—
The hero who had marred his grand plan laughed at him.
“You bring this situation on yourselves, and then you always act like you can’t believe it. I don’t get it.”
“What nonsense...!”
“You lot always kidnap a princess or prince to send humans a signal. That the Demon King has begun moving, so stop him. How could anyone be so considerate? If you just killed the king instead, the whole kingdom would be thrown into chaos.”
That was because if he kidnapped the king, anger would turn to greed and spark a war for the throne.
“And you always send underlings to the heroes. And you pick ones just strong enough for them to handle.”
Because the heroes must not die midway. One must be careful not to ruin the finest meal.
That was what the playbook taught.
“And that’s it? If we head for the tower, you send monsters. If we don’t head for the tower, you still send monsters. Do you know what we do then? We thank you. Because even if they’re a little dangerous, they’re all manageable for us, so we thank you and gobble them right up. It’s amazing how perfectly you match the difficulty. My parents weren’t even that considerate.”
“And what about when we finally reach the tower? It gets even better. There’s always a weak monster on the 1st floor. And the higher we climb, the difficulty rises little by little so we can train right at our level.”
The hero bowed his head. He murmured softly, “Thank you.” The sight of it twisted his insides.
He realized something had gone terribly wrong.
“Do you know what the tower is rumored to be among heroes? A gold mine packed with food, where you can grow steadily. A heavenly treasure trove.”
The bastard whispered.
He said that the faith of the Demon Realm, of the Demon King, of himself, had been wrong from the beginning.
That it was not the Demon King who raised heroes to eat them, but the heroes who toyed with and used the Demon King.
“There are heroes who enter a Demon King’s tower and clear everything except the final floor. Why? Because it’s comfortable. Even if they kill everything, after a few months it resets. It’s the best hunting ground. Ah, but you Demon Kings hardly ever interact, so maybe you don’t know?”
A hunting ground.
His tower.
“But sometimes, doing that over and over gets boring. It stops being satisfying. So they just kill the Demon King. Like you, making that ‘I don’t understand anything’ face while dying. And not long after, a new Demon King and a new tower appear. Then things feel fresh again.”
A hunting ground that never disappeared. How wonderful, right?
“You were a bit harder, though. Compared to other Demon Kings, you were far stronger. Thanks to that, a lot of heroes died. Still, since your behavior was the same as the others, the ending was already decided.”
His mind blurred.
To a Demon King, a hero was a pig that could be eaten at any time. They simply fattened the pig so it would taste better; doing so never turned a pig into a dragon.
That was the belief held by every Demon King, every demon.
And it had been denied from the roots.
Heroes were not pigs— they had always been dragons capable of killing the Demon King.
And the Demon King had been raising with his own hands the dragon that could kill him.
No, it had been the opposite from the beginning. The hero had been toying with the Demon King.
How. How could this be.
“Well then, farewell, Demon King. Thanks for everything. Thanks to you, I even managed to make a name for myself as a hero. I wonder who’ll come next to entertain us.”
The hero— the heroes— laughed. Their blatant mockery burned itself into his pupils.
“I am...! I am the Demon King! How dare the likes of you mock me!”
“King? Is there a king here?”
“There is a generous godfather though. Who else takes such considerate care of us like you Demon King bastards?”
“True. So true.”
They cackled.
Rage surged. Heat threatened to explode from his body. So he did not suppress it.
“Even if I go, I will never go alone.”
His heart, already pierced, was losing strength.
The fact that he would die here did not change.
If so, he would punish them before leaving. He would make them pay for daring to ridicule the Demon King.
Even if he had to offer up his last breath.
He squeezed his heart. He stirred all his demonic energy.
Flames roared, heat surged.
“This bastard’s trying something!”
“Cut off his head, now!”
The heroes, realizing too late, shouted. Frantic movement. A cold blade aimed for his neck.
Slice—
A sharp sting brushed his neck. His vision flipped.
But it was already too late.
In the tumbling view, he saw his headless body collapse. The heart pierced by the hero’s sword was swelling, radiating black heat.
The gathered demonic energy used the heart as a catalyst and unleashed its full power.
He saw the heroes scrambling to flee.
Black heat devoured everything.
‘Ah.’
Hot.
His flames were this hot.
Memories rushed past like a spinning lantern. Doubt and regret followed.
The playbook had been wrong.
Had he known that the playbook made heroes see Demon Kings as fools, he would never have followed it.
If he were given one more chance.
Then he would have handed that playbook over to an orc for firewood.
But it was far too late for regret.
His vision darkened.
* * *
‘...ze.’
His consciousness drifted in darkness.
He had died. Then was this the afterlife?
Where was he going?
‘...ze De....’
A faint voice tickled his ear. But his drowsy mind made no effort to listen.
“Berje Deias! Are you not here!”
At that moment—
His vision brightened. He shot upright.
It was an auditorium. Hundreds of demons were all looking at him.
What was going on?
“Berje Deias! To the front, hurry to the front!”
The confusion lasted only a moment before he realized the emcee onstage had been calling his name repeatedly.
He rushed up onto the stage. An aged vampire greeted him.
“Berje Deias. You’re not usually like this—what’s gotten into you on graduation day?”
A voice full of concern. From his words, Berje deduced much.
The graduation ceremony, and the scene before him now.
The vampire— the Director— pinned a red badge to his chest. The symbol of a Demon King given to all graduates of the Demon King Military Academy.
Only then did he fully grasp the situation.
It was the graduation ceremony from fifteen years ago at the Demon King Military Academy.
He had graduated as valedictorian, a genius receiving the attention of many.
“It’s nothing.”
“Then good. The school and I, we all have high expectations for you.”
The Director recited the words he had once spoken, without a single syllable different.
He could not understand why he had returned to the day of his graduation.
But he could not deny that this was an opportunity.
“Thank you, I will do my utmost.”
“Good.”
The Director patted his shoulder. Then the salutatorian and the other cadets came up onto the stage one by one.
They all received their badges.
– Graduates, please turn to face the audience.
He turned his body. Hundreds of demons were celebrating their graduation.
– We will now begin the oath of the graduates who will become the new Demon Kings.
– The valedictorian, Berje Deias, will read on behalf of everyone.
A hologram floated before his eyes.
[1. A Demon King must build a tower in the world to which he is assigned.]
[2. A Demon King must abduct a prince or princess.]
[3. He must become the mastermind in the shadows and cause turmoil. He must leave behind traces proving he was the mastermind.]
[4. A Demon King must support the hero’s growth in every possible way.]
[5. The lower floors of the tower must contain low-level monsters, and the higher the floor, the stronger the foes. The Demon King must always await the hero at the summit.]
[6. The tower...]
That was—
‘The Demon King’s Standard.’
The rules he had read until he was sick of them, memorised until his head threatened to split, and practised with all he had.
And the filth that had driven him to death, made him a hero’s toy.
He now had to read it aloud. Swear before everyone that he would follow it faithfully.
Nonsense.
– Berje Deias?
It was a stupid shackle. Trash that had been wrong from the very beginning.
He did not want to read it. He had no intention of reading it.
– Please begin reciting the great Demon King’s Standard at once.
The emcee urged him.
He knew how grave a crime it was to reject the playbook in such a public, official setting.
He knew it would tarnish his brilliant future.
But he—
He had died because of the playbook, had been toyed with because of it.
“It is impossible.”
Thus, he loathed it even more fiercely than he had once worshipped it.
Suddenly, the auditorium fell silent.
“I cannot make such a moronic oath. Following the Demon King’s Standard is no different from carrying a hatchling’s corpse into a dragon’s lair— a stupid, idiotic act. That playbook is!”
Berje shouted, veins bulging.
“Trash!”
“...!”
“...!”
It was the moment the greatest valedictorian of the Demon King Military Academy became the academy’s biggest disgrace.