Chapter 48 : Good Thing He Came
Chapter 48: Good Thing He Came
『…The hero’s march had been delayed. But it couldn’t be stalled for long.』
“That was enough.”
Draxon let out a sigh of relief. For the moment, one burden had lifted.
『Lately, I’ve found your conduct extremely displeasing. I’ll say this again—there won’t be a second time.』
“I clearly told you it wasn’t my doing. That Berje bastard really was a complete idiot.”
『A prince died to demons within your territory, and you say it wasn’t your fault? Absurd.』
『If the other party hadn’t been Ormus, you wouldn’t have been able to smooth it over like this.』
Draxon gnashed his teeth. Between him and the figure beyond the crystal sphere lay a gulf that could never be bridged.
‘If I ever get my hands on that bastard, I’ll rip him limb from limb.’
Both that demon and the Demon King who had ordered him.
“In the second hero’s march to come, I’ll release not only the prince and princess we’ve captured, but also all captives taken by the hero’s march.”
『See that you do.』
Click—
The connection cut off.
Draxon irritably tore into the meat placed on the table.
“If I can drag this out, identify the culprit, and receive His Excellency’s support to restore the tower…”
There would be some losses, but he could survive.
“No… not some. Enormous losses, more like.”
He knew that accepting Archduke Arkaine’s help—and thus receiving monsters and demons—meant he would have to offer up even more Demonic Points.
But nothing was more important than survival, so he had no choice…
“A disaster, my lord!”
Casey burst through the door, panting heavily.
“What is it?”
“Intruder—no, intruders! Approximately around five hundred humans have stepped into the territory. Judging by the number of heroes included—”
KWA-AANG──!
The table shattered without a trace.
Crushed by the suffocating, overwhelming demonic energy, Casey swallowed hard.
“Those sons of bitches…!”
* * *
In the Hero Guild, there were those who represented the guild to the outside world.
The ten greatest heroes.
People called them the Ten Stars—stars of hope—though the term was a bit embarrassing, so those who bore the title didn’t particularly like being addressed that way.
Regardless, Rozel Charnte was one of the Ten Stars.
So was Balraf Dislode, who had refused the hero’s march.
And not merely by strength—honor and achievements were considered as well. Hillan Cargill, who had defeated the Lust Demon King, was also technically among the Ten Stars, albeit in the lowest seat.
And the man before his eyes now—
Ralph Schmitz, too, was one of the Ten Stars.
The Ralph Schmitz Berje remembered was an annoying hunk of scrap metal.
A wall that blocked nearly any attack with a shield larger than his own body.
“Are you all right?”
Noticing Berje’s strange expression, Hillan called to him quietly.
“…I’m fine.”
Berje managed to catch his breath.
Just hearing a hero’s name and facing one who had been involved in killing him were two entirely different things.
Even so, he endured. He barely suppressed the surging murderous intent and the rampaging demonic energy.
‘Endure it. If you don’t, you die.’
Just as Rozel Charnte was strong, this man was also a formidable force—one that the current Berje could not defeat.
And it wasn’t only Ralph Schmitz. This was the centre of the hero’s forces, deep within enemy territory.
‘In that case…’
Should he strike from behind when Draxon became desperate in battle?
He couldn’t guarantee anything. And for now, nothing mattered more than killing Draxon. He could not take a gamble.
“It has been a while.”
“Looking forward to working with you.”
“Do not forget the promise.”
Ralph Schmitz exchanged brief greetings with Rozel and then lost interest in everyone else.
“He’s famous for being taciturn.”
He didn’t seem taciturn—he just seemed rude.
With the last member joining them, the hero’s march advanced swiftly toward the Beast’s Tower. Perhaps because the first hero’s march had already swept through once, monsters rarely appeared to obstruct them.
They soon reached the tower—an enormous eleven-story structure.
‘I never thought I’d come here as a member of the hero’s march.’
Even less did he think he would come here intending to kill Draxon himself.
“We’re going in. Everyone, stay alert.”
At Rozel’s signal, the knight orders took the lead. The mage units prepared themselves to cast magic at any moment.
Creak—
The tower began welcoming its guests.
First floor: dire wolves.
There was no need for Berje to step forward. With a few swings of their swords, the knights reduced them all to corpses.
“The level really dropped. Guess he didn’t have enough time?”
Rozel and Arkan’s elites cheered.
They climbed the second floor, then the third, rapidly ascending the tower.
‘Following the standard playbook.’
As they progressed upward, the monsters gradually increased in level. But for creatures supposedly residing in a Demon King’s tower, their strength was far too low.
Most likely—
“Looks like he’s planning to use the same strategy this time too.”
Hillan Cargill whispered. And he was right. Draxon intended to gather all his forces above and settle everything in one decisive clash.
But Berje disagreed.
Rozel Charnte and the other heroes would certainly expect that as well.
‘There’s no way Draxon hasn’t thought of that.’
A graduate of the Demon King Military Academy and a Demon King, Draxon wasn’t a fool. He simply couldn’t abandon the standard strategy—just like the rest of the demon race.
A tradition that had grown into a religion.
That thought ended the moment they stepped onto the fifth floor.
“Gaaaah!”
“Poison!”
Screams erupted.
The armor of several knights at the front had corroded. Acrid fumes stung their noses.
Heroes capable of healing magic rushed over. Knights formed a defensive line while several mages deployed scan magic.
Monsters burst out through the chaos.
“Enemy!”
“Block them! Save our allies!”
“Traces of demonic energy are everywhere. This is…”
“Which means he laid a ton of traps.”
‘So he resorted to tricks.’
The Demon Kings of Arein sought ways to survive as long as they didn’t violate the Standard.
This time was no different.
‘The fifth rule of the Demon King’s Standard.’
[Place low-level monsters and beasts on the lower floors of the tower, and increase their level as the challenger ascends. The Demon King must always await the hero at the summit.]
Nowhere did it say traps could not be placed. Whether the trap was mild or deadly didn’t matter.
But he hadn’t expected Draxon to use traps. The beastmen were, among the demon race, famed—charitably as brave, uncharitably as stupid.
Before the regression, Draxon was the type who scorned traps and worshipped direct confrontation.
‘If he set traps, it means he intends to win by any means necessary.’
For Draxon to abandon even the stubborn pride he had clung to—he must have been cornered to the very edge.
‘I never thought this would be easy.’
The decades Draxon had spent in Arein would not have been light ones.
But still, he wondered—
‘What kind of face are you making right now…?’
Berje allowed a faint smile to surface.
* * *
“How dare they strike me from behind!”
Draxon could no longer contain himself and crushed the communication orb.
He had contacted them dozens of times. But the responses had been excuses—“that can’t be,” “we’ll look into it”—before the line abruptly cut each time, with no further replies.
In the end, he had no choice but to accept it. He was dancing like an idiot on a stage those bastards had prepared.
“I’ll make sure they regret today for the rest of their lives!”
Draxon roared. After venting his fury in one explosive outburst, he forced himself to regain composure.
The filth intruding on his land came first.
“Have you confirmed the invaders?”
“Yes. Counting knights, mages, and heroes, a total of 526. The knights and mages wear no insignias, so identifying their origins is difficult, but they are on par with the elite forces of any major kingdom.”
“What’s your opinion?”
“Arkan. Only Arkan could dispatch a force of this caliber in such a short time. It’s highly likely Rozel Charnte is leading the hero’s march.”
“So those magic-crazy bastards are after my hide and bones, are they. Who needs special attention?”
“Rozel Charnte, Hillan Cargill, and…”
That much he had expected. It wasn’t rare for failures to grit their teeth and climb again.
“Ralph Schmitz.”
“…That irritating bastard?”
All heroes were troublesome, but Ralph Schmitz was particularly well-known even among Demon Kings.
He was the strongest shield among the heroes. Rumor had it he had blocked a basilisk’s breath head-on, advanced through it, and ripped out its tongue.
A basilisk couldn’t be compared to a Demon King like him.
But he couldn’t deny that a particularly troublesome man had joined them.
‘Ralph Schmitz and Hillan Cargill will try to restrain me. And Rozel Charnte will prepare a decisive strike.’
Then he had to ignore that man and finish Rozel Charnte first.
While sketching out the plan in his head, he examined the interior of the tower. Then, within his field of vision, he spotted a face that looked oddly familiar.
“…Berje Deias?”
No. That was not Berje Deias.
At a glance, one could easily mistake him for Berje, but the hair color and eye color were different. More importantly—
“Are you sensing demonic energy from the hero’s march?”
“There is no demonic energy whatsoever.”
If it were Berje Deias, Draxon would have sensed him the moment he stepped into the tower.
‘Even so, could someone resemble him that much…?’
His doubt lasted only a moment as they drew closer. The traps he had set, just in case, were doing their part to slow the heroes’ advance.
Should he call it fortunate they weren’t wasted? Or unlucky?
“What about the demons?”
“All are waiting at the summit.”
“The monsters?”
“A total of 1,321.”
That number excluded the weaker monsters placed alongside the traps to maintain the Standard.
Originally, the number had been more than triple. But the first hero’s march had dealt heavy losses. Nearly three hundred heroes had gathered then.
“And the royal captives in the underground…”
“It’s too late to carry out the Standard.”
Normally, according to the Standard, he should greet the hero’s march at the summit with the princess.
The sudden situation had ruined the timing.
“Leave them.”
Draxon opened the door and stepped outside. The eleventh floor. His subordinates filled the area around the throne.
“They are coming! Do not show mercy to the filth that mocks demons. Leave not a single one alive.”
That alone was enough. A thick, murderous aura enveloped the entire floor.
Supported by the demons, Draxon stepped onto the carpet, ascended the stairs, and sat upon the golden throne.
And then—
The door opened.
* * *
His first impression was nostalgia.
A Demon King seated with overwhelming dignity. The demons supporting him. The thousands of monster subordinates filling the hall.
Berje had once looked like that too. No—he had been grander. He had commanded more demons, more monsters, flaunting his authority as a Demon King.
But he did not long for that time. He now knew it had all been nothing more than a fragile sandcastle built on ignorance.
All the monsters and demons had been slaughtered, and in the end, Berje too had lost his life.
He had no intention of repeating that humiliation or despair.
Although it was regrettable that his relationship with the demons who had once devoted their lives to him had crumbled, this present was better.
“…………”
“…………”
A sharp, forceful gaze pressed against him. Draxon Doldov, the master of the tower, was staring directly at him.
Berje did not look away. Draxon was the one who broke eye contact first.
“You look quickly. Is your balance off? Should I burst your other eye for you?”
He growled at Rozel Charnte, the commander of the hero’s march.
And without any signal, the monsters roared. The demons gripped their weapons and charged.
‘He hasn’t noticed.’
Certain of that, Berje surveyed the battlefield.
‘Four high-grade demons. Eleven mid-grade demons. Fifty-two low-grade demons.’
And roughly a thousand monsters.
Not an easy force to deal with. But the same was true for their side.
Ralph Schmitz charged straight toward the Demon King. Monsters blocked his path, but the knight order following behind drew their aggro away.
The mages began their support.
Boom, boom, boom!
Brilliant flashes rained down.
Monsters screamed.
Demons tore apart the tightly formed shield wall of the knights.
A monster blocking the way collapsed beneath Ralph’s blade.
And the Demon King rose from his heavy throne.
Everything occurred in an instant.
Mana and demonic energy clashed violently. The mingled scent of blood from all races stung their noses.
Berje silently watched. Hillan stayed at his side.
“Good thing you came after all. If you hadn’t come in person, you would’ve regretted it for life.”
“What do you mea—”
Before Hillan could finish—
KWA-AAAAANG──!
A deafening crash erupted. Something massive grazed right past them.
“Damn it all…!”
From a half-cratered hole, Rozel Charnte rose to her feet, coughing blood.
“Shame.”
Draxon licked his claws.
“A little higher and it would’ve done it.”
A long gash tore across Rozel Charnte’s cheek.