Chapter 11 : What Was Intended for the First Floor?
Chapter 11: What Was Intended for the First Floor?
Beautiful flowers had thorns.
Bees guarded sweet honey.
Spirit Blossoms were more precious than flowers or honey. More beautiful, sweeter, and more noble.
Naturally, many sought them.
Naturally, many desired to claim them.
And so, naturally—
“Peul Orc.”
There existed yet another hunter that wished to claim the Spirit Blossoms.
Their bodies were covered in pure white fur. That creature—no, those creatures—were the Peul Orcs said to live in the snowy mountains.
“What should we do? These things are ones even decent knights can’t stand against.”
“And beside you stands the Demon King, after all.”
I rose to my feet. Slowly, I approached the creatures’ settlement.
Krrrk—
Krrrk?
The cries of monsters came to me through the blizzard. I felt their gazes.
One, two, three. The steadily increasing number of golden eyes brimmed with wariness and hostility.
“...Demons.”
A rather coarse word spilled from one orc’s mouth.
Berje didn’t hide his aura, and they detected what he was.
“As Demon King, I command you—leave quietly and abandon what you have there.”
Monsters were, in the end, an inferior version of demon beasts. The demon beasts sown across all dimensions by the Demon Realm had settled in the middle realm and taken shape as a separate species.
Though dozens, hundreds of generations had passed since their ties to the Demon Realm were severed, faint imprints still lingered in their bodies.
Loyalty to demons, to the Demon Realm.
But—
“...No.”
“These are ours.”
“Won’t listen to demons.”
The Peul Orcs bared their teeth. Their wariness and hostility shifted into murderous intent and anger.
“These damn things....”
Berje had overlooked two things. First, that the monsters who lived in isolation had seen their connection to the Demon Realm fade to near nothing.
Second, that to beings who obeyed instinct above all, the Spirit Blossom before them was an absolute value they could never abandon.
Enough to defy some nameless demon.
But the Peul Orcs, too, had overlooked something: Berje was not merely a demon—he was the Demon King.
He was one who delighted in battle.
Fwoosh—
Black flames surged. The pouring snowstorm dared not intrude upon the domain of that fire.
“Kill!”
“Protect what is ours!”
The orcs gripped their weapons and charged across the snow.
The black flames opened a massive maw. The two forces crossed.
KWA-A-A-AANG—
The leading orc exploded on the spot.
That was the beginning. Explosions, screams, and monstrous cries ran rampant.
“...Ah.”
Ernan blankly watched the scene.
It was hot.
So intense a heat that the blizzard of the snowy mountain felt like nothing more than a warm breeze.
The black flames seemed like a living creature.
They melted snow, scorched the ground, and devoured the orcs.
An orc screamed.
It rolled across the snowy field, but the flames did not extinguish.
Their teeth never reached the Demon King, and their blades melted helplessly before the infernal flames.
A one-sided massacre, a butchery.
‘Peul Orcs, even just five together, are things that can chew up an ogre. Up in the mountains, no matter how strong the knight, they can’t fight them—if you encounter them, you must run.’
‘Would I ever have reason to climb a mountain with Peul Orcs?’
‘Well, that’s true. Still, just know it in case, haha.’
A memory like a fragment of the past resurfaced.
In the end, she had come. Though far from any truly dangerous situation.
‘This is the Demon King....’
The spirits trembled in fear. They hid behind my back before the majesty of an absolute being.
But she didn’t turn my eyes away. It was beautiful—that strength, that overwhelming power.
‘If only I were that strong....’
Perhaps she wouldn’t have had to live a life like a prison.
In that moment, darkness fell. The irony of black light vanished.
Hooo—
The Demon King exhaled a breath tinged with exhilaration.
The body of the chieftain in his grasp dangled like a lifeless corpse.
Was he dead? No, he wasn’t.
His breathing was faint—extremely faint—but present. Only that.
The chieftain wasn’t in any condition to do anything. His twisted limbs bled, and his once-glossy fur had burned away without a trace.
His companions lay buried in the cold permafrost, already covered by snow.
“Say it again.”
“...I, I will offer it.”
“I,” the Demon King spat the words as if chewing them, “detest being ignored. I abhor being mocked.”
How dare an orc—one not even a hero—
Treat the vanguard of the Demon Realm that way.
“How do you think I feel when a creature that doesn’t know its place crawls up at me?”
“M-mercy....”
“Do you think there can be mercy for dogs that bite their master?”
“I-I will serve the Demon King.”
The living beings that filled the Demon King’s Tower fell into three broad categories.
Demons.
Demon beasts.
And monsters.
‘Demons’ referred to intelligent beings of the Demon Realm.
‘Demon beasts’ were everything else excluding demons.
And ‘monsters’ were a branch of demon beasts that had taken root in the middle realm long ago.
There were two ways to use these monsters as residents of the Tower.
I could either brand them as slaves using magic points and the Tower’s power,
Or I could overwhelm them and force them to submit by strength.
But Berje had no intention of taking them in.
Even without carving a brand using magic points, if he brought them into the Tower they would absorb even a small amount of the Tower’s demonic energy.
He had no magic points to waste on creatures like these right now.
And dogs that once bit their master were not to be left alive.
“That is not for you to decide.”
Crack—
He took the creature’s life.
* * *
“Wow... the purity of the mana is incredibly high.”
At the center of the Peul Orc tribe lay plants that gave off a thick scent of mana.
Gulp—
The princess unconsciously swallowed her saliva.
“Don’t get greedy.”
Berje snorted and pushed her away.
He carefully dug up the three roots of Spirit Blossoms and tucked them into his coat.
This pure-white flower, called Iasince, was a cold herb that grew only in the snowy mountains.
Because it held extreme cold within it, it was a treasure that water spirit users or ice-type mages would pay a fortune to obtain.
It was too much of a jackpot for something found within just thirty minutes of their initial search.
‘To think there’d be a mana-dense zone this close.’
Berje clicked his tongue as he saw the once-discouraged princess now running around excitedly with the spirits.
Even if she failed to obtain Spirit Blossoms, for her—being a spirit user—this place itself was practically a massive gift.
‘If I had been a bit more careful?’
The Tower absorbed tiny amounts of surrounding mana and converted it into demonic energy.
Had he built the Tower here, the demonic energy supply would have been slightly higher. Not that he could undo it now.
‘In this case, switching princesses is something I’ll need to reconsider.’
He had been watching the hero’s movements, ready to send away the First Princess and kidnap the 13th Princess again if needed.
But the potential she showed made him hesitate.
The Ergest Mountains, where Spirit Blossoms overflowed.
A princess who commanded spirits—the best searchers in existence.
‘At least for the time being....’
He felt the need to exploit her.
Until he reduced the dimensional interference to the minimum and recovered the power of his true body.
Until the moment came when he could sever the heads of the heroes who had humiliated him.
‘Humans only work hard when given the right carrots, don’t they.’
“We’re moving to the next location. If we find more, I might let you keep one.”
“Yes. I’ll do my best to find them!”
But perhaps the first stroke of luck had been nothing more than fool’s luck. Nothing else appeared until she was exhausted.
* * *
“The hero has begun the hero’s march?”
“Yes. The elf delivered the message.”
What awaited Berje upon returning to the Tower was the news that the hero’s march had begun.
The hero’s march. A phrase he had grown sick of hearing before his regression.
“...So it begins.”
“They say thirty-two heroes have formed a group.”
“Who is the leader?”
“A hero named Hillan Cargill. Rumor says he slew the Lust Demon King.”
“Hillan Cargill....”
It was a name he had heard before. A genuine hero who had cut down the Lust Demon King.
Of all things, a heavyweight appeared at the very start.
‘Is this the price for building the Tower in the Ergest Mountains?’
A means intended to filter out as many heroes as possible seemed instead to be attracting far stronger foes.
“For now, why don’t we try interfering with the hero’s march as much as possible?”
“How?”
“Did you not purchase Granada for times like this?”
“He will be used for something more important. I won’t waste him meaninglessly.”
“Then send purchased demon beasts using magic points.”
There was no need to even consider it.
A hero chosen by the dimension grew stronger by hunting invaders. In other words, heroes grew by fighting demon beasts, demons, and the Demon King.
And that was indeed the standard.
To hinder the hero’s progress while simultaneously raising them further in order to devour them later.
It was why the idea was all the more repulsive and unpleasant.
“Rejected.”
“Then there is no method left. And if they come charging in, we will surely lose. Would it not be better to stop selling magic points and instead use them to reduce dimensional interference?”
“At best, that buys us a few months. Do you think that’s enough to defeat a hero who beheaded a Demon King?”
Impossible. If it were, Berje wouldn’t have died in his previous life. Back then, he had kidnapped countless princesses of many nations, sowed chaos, and gained tremendous notoriety.
“Then will you simply wait and let them strike?”
“No. I will make use of them.”
“Make use of them?”
“The hero’s march. Humans are madly obsessed with that event.”
Berje knew well the importance of the hero’s march—the influence it carried, the fame the heroes earned.
Because he had suffered from it countless times.
“It’s the perfect stage for a mercenary company whose fame is lacking but skill is certain.”
“You intend to send Granada?”
“I’d love to use humans to get rid of humans, but…”
No matter how much they loved money, mercenaries wouldn’t dare attempt to assassinate a hero who had slain a Demon King and held the attention of the entire continent.
“Then what else could we do? They’ll come regardless.”
“Nothing.”
Sending demon beasts would only help the hero grow. And he had no alternative to send in their place. So he would do nothing.
That alone would place some limitations on the hero’s growth. The hero’s march was practically a signal telling Demon Kings to send demon forces—for the heroes to grow. Cutting off that source entirely was, at the very least, more than average interference.
“As for the heroes.”
“Yes?”
“When the princess said she wanted to decorate the fourth floor, a thought occurred to me. That perhaps I have been too rigid. That I too am, unavoidably, a demon.”
A question arose.
Was it truly necessary to strengthen the Tower using magic points?
Was it truly necessary to consume magic points to maintain traps?
“What do you think about filling the Tower with something other than demon beasts?”
“What kind of absurd nonsense is that?”
Gordon was appalled.
“Don’t tell me you intend to purchase more slaves to fill it? Absolutely not—never!”
“Reason?”
“Because it’s the Tower! And you are the Demon King! Would you entrust the Demon King’s Tower to mere humans?!”
“What if they’re dwarves instead of humans?”
“Even worse! Do you know how short those runts are?”
“They are quite small.”
“Imagine those stunted dwarves standing in the great Tower to greet the heroes! What would the heroes think?”
“They’d laugh, probably?”
He imagined the Tower doors opening and a lineup of dwarves around 130 cm tall stepping out. It was rather funny.
“Exactly! Even having imposing demon beasts isn’t enough, and you want to use that trash species?!”
What demons wanted was fear and dread, anger and despair.
But would humans feel fear toward dwarves? Despair?
No. They would snort and mock them instead.
That was something that should never, ever happen.
“The throne at the top of the Tower isn’t there for nothing. And they would never obey the Demon King’s orders faithfully!”
“I heard dwarves were quite fond of money.”
“At least they aren’t like humans who’d sell their guts and gallbladders for coin. They’re far slyer and far more irritating.”
“I’ve heard many are stubborn.”
“And above all.”
“Above all?”
“They are weak. Fit to be prey for demon beasts, perhaps, but absolutely not fit to be guardians of the Tower. The Tower must be filled with the strongest demon beasts possible to face the heroes!”
“That’s true. The Tower should indeed be filled with strong ones.”
“Exactly. Now you sound like the true Demon King again.”
Gordon exaggerated the nod of his head. He was relieved to stop his lord’s deviation.
“So the first floor will be filled with dwarves.”
“Gah!”
Gordon bit his tongue.
He wasn’t persuaded at all!