The Demon King Overrun by Heroes

Chapter 3: The Standard of the Standard

Even now things were not much different, but before the regression I had been brimming with pride.

If one said I overflowed with confidence, that was true.

If one said I was arrogant, that too was true.

Racial pride, the flattering words of being the greatest top graduate in history, and the praise from those around me had made me that way.

Not just empty words—there genuinely had been no cadet among my peers who could even hope to compare with me.

Even among the students of the Military Academy, said to gather only the finest demons, I had been unmatched.

I entered with superiority and graduated with overwhelming excellence.

For that reason, I saw Arein—though the worst dimension—as a trophy that would instead illuminate my brilliance.

No, I thought it had to be Arein.

For someone like me, the very best, the dimension befitting me had to be Arein.

Ignoring the dissuasion of a few, I had stubbornly descended to Arein. And defying everyone’s expectations, I achieved results of my own.

I outpaced those Demon Kings who had already taken up residence but were busy minding their own safety. With that success, I believed I could rise even higher by occupying Arein.

At least, until I realized that that damn thing called The Demon King’s Standard had not been meant for me—a Demon King—but for heroes.

‘Even thinking about it again makes me want to curse.’

At any rate, the former me had experienced the dimension called Arein once. And that experience was an invaluable asset.

Assuming I took that asset and did not follow the Standard to the letter—

I truly had confidence that I could conquer Arein.

But Gordon did not seem to think so.

“Arein, sir! Arein!”

Gordon tore at his hair. Strands of his elven hair—said to be as soft as silk—fell away pitifully.

“We have nothing. Absolutely nothing. We’re in a situation where we’re not even sure we can handle the easiest place, and you’re saying the worst dimension!”

His teary, trembling appearance overlapped with the past.

‘It will be difficult, but with you and me, my lord, it is more than worth the challenge! No, unless it is Arein, I won’t feel any motivation at all!’

As I recalled, he had been quite spirited then.

“We can’t go! I won’t go! If you want to die, die alone!”

What was the difference between then and now?

Quite a lot.

First of all, back then I had been the model student. The top graduate acknowledged by everyone. But now? A delinquent rebel shaking the very values of the demon race.

Because of the butterfly effect, the benefits I had once received and the demons who had volunteered to follow me were all gone.

‘A change to be expected.’

But I couldn’t tell him I had regressed, so I had no choice but to tell him to obey.

“How about stopping with the hair-pulling? Isn’t it a waste?”

“You think this useless hair is the problem right now?!”

It had the opposite effect. Even more hair ended up scattered across the floor.

If he said I had been given a chance and I refused it, would he end up completely bald?

* * *

Regardless of Gordon’s opposition, the moment of deployment drew near.

An enraged Arkaine had nailed me in place as belonging to Arein and warned everyone not to lend me any assistance.

Naturally, the hair torn from Gordon’s head increased as he tried to persuade his acquaintances among the demons to somehow avoid the worst.

Time passed, and the day arrived. Standing before the portal were only Gordon and me—surely the most pitiful moment among all descents of Demon Kings in history.

The only consolation was that the Archduke, Arkaine, had come to personally see us off. Though, of course, it was hardly out of pure goodwill.

“Even if you cry and beg now, you will never have another chance. Rot in that damn dimension for the rest of your life.”

“Thank you for the kind words. I will return after turning it into a complete colony.”

“Such audacity—indeed befitting a top graduate. If you truly manage that, I will grant you any request.”

“I look forward to it.”

I let out a laugh as Arkaine’s face twisted even further.

I grabbed Gordon—limp like a lifeless corpse—by the scruff and dragged him along.

And so, for the first time in the history of the Demon Realm, a Demon King and his lone deputy—

crossed the dimensional portal.

* * *

The first thing to greet them was pure white snowfall.

A chilly cold pierced into his body, already weakened by dimensional interference.

He exhaled a frosty breath and brushed the snow from his head.

“Looks like we arrived properly.”

“Where is… this?”

“The northern continent, somewhere in the Ergest Mountains.”

A natural, perilous land untouched by human hands.

Monsters overflowed in every direction, and the harsh environment repelled the weak.

That was why here—

“I’ll build the tower.”

Where no one could find it.

And even if they did, they would not dare to approach.

“That goes against the Standard.”

Gordon snapped back.

Rule number one of the Standard: A Demon King must build a tower in the world assigned to him.

Though the proposition simply stated build a tower, later generations of demons interpreted it however they pleased, creating detailed conditions of their own.

One such condition: choose a suitably rugged area, but not a region humans cannot possibly reach.

“And?”

“The Standard is a law of the Demon Realm that must be followed.”

“Do you really think I—who caused that uproar at the graduation ceremony—would obey that?”

“…Have you truly abandoned even the Demon King’s pride?”

His growing contempt made him click his tongue.

He understood, of course. One could not easily deny a faith rooted so deeply—unless one died, or experienced something equal to death.

He did not answer.

He slowly surveyed the mountain peaks. Among them, he found a suitable basin. Surrounded by peaks, its interior could not easily be discovered unless one knew the exact location.

It was the perfect place to build a tower.

“This will do.”

“Not only building it in the middle of nowhere, but hiding it entirely as well?”

Gordon, who had been watching him, objected again.

“And what if I am?”

“I will oppose it. Pointing out the Demon King’s mistakes and supporting him is my duty.”

“And obeying when the Demon King commands is also your duty.”

He lightly shut Gordon down and began digging into the ground. He planted the tower seed he had received from Arkaine.

Covering it with soil, he sliced his palm and scattered his blood. Watching the parched earth drink it in an instant, he infused it with demonic energy.

A faint tremor.

[The tower recognizes its user.]

[Race, Black-Flame Dragonkin.]

[Name, Berje Deias.]

The tower’s system recognized him. The seed, having absorbed his blood and demonic energy, released its dormant potential all at once.

Ku-gu-gu-gu-gu—

The mountain shook. The air rippled from the massive wave of demonic energy.

A colossal tower, five floors high, revealed itself.

Its exterior was crude. As if carved from a single block of metal, it had no seams and was perfectly smooth—but also lacked any ornamentation.

Compared to the twenty-floor tower that had stood before his regression, it was worlds apart, but perhaps thanks to nostalgia it still had its own charm.

Kreeeek—

The door opened. Stepping onto the red carpet that came out to greet him, he entered inside.

And he took in the sight of the completely empty hall.

Previously, he had filled it with monsters gifted to him as the reward for being top graduate, and with demons who had voluntarily followed him because of his fame. But this time, only Gordon was here.

“Take a good look. This is the tower you’ll be managing.”

“Is there even anything to manage?”

The man snapped irritably. His constant snappishness was getting on his nerves.

If Gordon weren’t the capable one who would manage the tower in his stead—if he weren’t the loyal aide who had devoted himself to him in his previous life—he would have knocked out a tooth or two by now.

“Watch your mouth. Don’t elves value their ears above all else?”

“……”

Gordon flinched. No matter how things had turned out, the fact remained that he was a Demon King—one of the strongest even in the Demon Realm.

While trembling, Gordon still lifted his chin.

“…I will keep that in mind. And since I’m your deputy, I will give advice first.”

“I’ll hear it.”

“Kidnap a princess.”

“The reason?”

“If you kidnap a princess and leave traces of yourself behind, the rage and sorrow of an entire kingdom will be directed wholly at you. Those emotions will become sweet demonic energy and make you even stronger.”

Even in his fear, he was filled with a desperate desire to set his derailed master back on the proper path.

That was also one of Gordon’s strengths. But this time, his direction was wrong.

“Rejected.”

“The Standard is the Standard because it must be followed! It is the Standard because it is more efficient! It has lasted for over ten thousand years because there is a reason for it!”

“It may be right for other dimensions, but here in Arein, it’s wrong.”

“Is there any reason Arein should be different from other dimensions?”

“The fact that it hasn’t been conquered for more than a thousand years seems more than enough reason to consider it different.”

“But the First Demon Emperor created the Standard to collect demonic energy more efficiently.”

“That’s only half right.”

After being toyed with by heroes and dying, he had become curious.

Was he the only one who had been special, or were they all the same?

Had the Standard really been twisted into a system for heroes instead of Demon Kings?

From the moment he graduated from the Military Academy until he was dispatched to Arein, he had scoured all the archives of the Demon Realm.

Librarians glared at him with disgust, calling him a rebel, but he forced his way in and confirmed everything.

And then he understood.

The intention behind the First Demon Emperor’s creation of the Standard.

And why that Standard had become corrupted only in Arein.

“To understand why the First Demon Emperor created that Standard, you need to know how demons obtain demonic energy.”

Demons gained energy from the life force and negative emotions of humans and other races.

The higher the quality, the greater the amount, the better.

“There isn’t a demon who doesn’t know that.”

“Then what do you think is the way for a Demon King invading the Middle Realm to gain more—greater—demonic energy?”

“Reputation.”

Whether demon, human, or other race—one who achieved feats gained reputation.

For Demon Kings invading the many dimensions of the Middle Realm, feats meant destroying nations and defeating their nemesis, the heroes.

Greater kingdoms.

Stronger heroes.

Destroying and killing them was the way for a Demon King to gain reputation.

“Killing weak heroes a hundred times means nothing. Humans don’t feel a great reaction to that. Because killing a weak hero doesn’t prove the Demon King is strong.”

But if one killed a hero known to be overwhelmingly strong?

“A strong hero isn’t just a hero. They’re hope.”

“Then shouldn’t we follow the Standard even more? Because we need to raise such heroes.”

To build reputation, Demon Kings needed strong heroes—but strong heroes were rare.

So the First Demon Emperor made a decision. If there weren’t any, he would create them. Raise them personally, then devour them.

Thus emerged the clause in the Standard ordering Demon Kings to support the growth of heroes in every possible way.

Not only for their symbolic meaning to humanity, but because the despair caused by the defeat of a strong hero was far more valuable—so it was killing two birds with one stone.

“That method wasn’t exactly wrong.”

Only the finest among demons entered the Demon King Military Academy. And only some survived the ordeal of graduation.

Such Demon Kings were on a completely different level compared to humans or other races. Even with their power partially suppressed by dimensional interference.

“So far, countless dimensions have been conquered—and continue to be conquered. In a way, the Standard was not wrong.”

“Then why…?”

“But Arein is different.”

Arein was fundamentally different from all other dimensions in one single way.

“Yes. One thing.”

A tiny difference, yet immense.

“There are many heroes in Arein.”

No—many was not enough to describe it.

“There are disgustingly many.”

That was why the roles between the two sides had reversed.

When circumstances changed, rules should have changed as well—but to demons, the Standard was not a rule but a religion.

Because The Demon King’s Standard had quietly spread, and countless heroes were exploiting it.

Because there existed a Standard for heroes who exploited the Demon King’s Standard.

“So I will exploit that Standard.”

He would toy with those trash heroes who mocked the foolish Demon Kings who blindly followed that useless Standard.