Chapter 51 : Each One’s Circumstances (2)
Chapter 51: Each One’s Circumstances (2)
The Beast Demon King had died.
That news began to spread from the moment the elites of the Magitech Kingdom of Arkan completely vanished from the royal capital of Ormus.
“Hero Rozel Charnte, the Red Flame Assault Unit, and Hillan Cargill, together with the knight orders of Ormus, joined forces and defeated the Demon King.”
It was the official announcement of the Kingdom of Ormus. As agreed, they elevated Rozel Charnte while concealing the existence of Arkan’s army.
But there were few who accepted that so easily.
“The knight orders of Ormus?”
“Weren’t their elites already wiped out?”
The hero’s march that had once failed and been pushed back had suddenly taken place in the middle of the night, as swiftly as lightning baking bread. It would have been strange not to find that strange.
“Ormus doesn’t have the strength to defeat a Demon King.”
“And it wasn’t like their army had moved, either.”
Someone had intervened. And suspicion rose over whether that someone was the Magitech Kingdom of Arkan.
Of course it did. Although it was never officially announced that Rozel Charnte had ties to Arkan, it was a secret known to anyone who mattered.
[The Magitech Kingdom of Arkan has no connection whatsoever to the collapse of the Beast’s Tower.]
[The Kingdom of Ormus received no foreign assistance. It was the support of excellent artifacts from the Berfht Kingdom that proved decisive.]
But the two kingdoms nailed down their statements and feigned ignorance afterwards.
The doubts still lingered, yet people’s curiosity began to shift elsewhere.
“Why did Berfht provide artifacts to Ormus?”
“Those dwarves are extremely proud. They just handed that over for free to a beggar country as some humanitarian gesture? Say something that makes sense!”
“There are people who say they saw Louise Berfht in Ormus.”
“I heard she overturned an entire city?”
People’s attention turned toward Berfht. And the subject of the rumors was kneeling with her lips tightly shut.
The royal fortress.
It was the royal fortress of the dwarves, built deep underground. Though it allowed no sunlight, the gentle light cast by mana lamps brushed softly across Louise’s face.
Hoo.
At the sound of a deep sigh, Louise flinched. She raised her head anxiously.
“...I’m sorry.”
“...I tried to let most things go.”
A bitter voice followed.
“I know what’s going through your head. I know what inferiority complexes you carry. No matter how many times I told you I never saw you that way, you never listened.”
“...”
“I tried to grant everything you wanted. I hoped you would grow up bright as a princess of this kingdom. But that was a mistaken thought.”
He should have been a bit harsher with her.
The man clicked his tongue.
“Because of your rashness, we had to donate an enormous amount of wealth to Ormus. The warriors of the kingdom shed meaningless blood.”
It was neither rebuke nor anger—merely a calm, steady tone.
“Now, are you satisfied?”
“...Father.”
“Go and apologize personally to the families of the fallen. Divide your own wealth and give it to them. They died because of you.”
“Yes.”
“And you will be confined to reflect.”
“...Yes.”
There were so many things she wanted to say.
That she still had not caught Roger Friedrich.
That none of this would have happened if that dog of Ormus had not attacked them.
But she did not make excuses. The king knew all of that. And acknowledging those facts would not erase her own wrongdoing.
It was true she had gone too far, blinded by her obsession with Roger Friedrich. It had been an undeniable mistake on her part.
“Go.”
“Yes.”
Louise left with drooping shoulders.
At that sight, the king’s hand twitched.
“You mustn’t. Stay where you are.”
“...But isn’t it pitiful? How much must that delicate child be suffering? If I could just go and speak a warm word to her—”
“This incident was clearly Louise’s fault. Your Majesty must separate public duty from personal feelings.”
“You bloodless, tearless brute. She’s your sister.”
“Before she is my sister, she is a criminal who brought great harm to the kingdom. Is it not because Your Majesty pampers her like this that Louise becomes reckless and out of control?”
“Calling your sister a criminal and a delinquent! Wretched brat! And look at those thin arms and legs! She looks like she could collapse at any moment—how can you not treat her kindly?”
“Haa...”
The prince pressed a hand to his forehead. Of course, he too wanted nothing more than to hug Louise the moment he saw her.
How she even swung an axe with those slender limbs was a mystery.
But not this time.
“Your Majesty, dwarven warriors lost their lives needlessly on foreign soil. If Louise were not a princess, she would have been executed immediately.”
“You would execute your sister! Ungrateful boy! And you call yourself her brother?”
“That is clearly not what I meant!”
Such a hopeless doting fool.
The prince ground his teeth.
“In any case, do not approach Louise for the time being. Do not speak to her affectionately. We must fix her behavior while we have the chance.”
“Are you the king now?”
“If the throne is offered, I wouldn’t refuse.”
“Go find that bastard.”
“Do you mean Roger Friedrich?”
“Wasn’t it all because of him that Louise ran away from the kingdom?”
The king growled. A fierce aura spilled out. He was a hopelessly doting father, but still the greatest warrior among the dwarves.
“I’ll drag him back and throw him at Louise’s feet.”
“...Of course.”
The prince agreed as well.
“I’ll move personally.”
“You will?”
“I have one question for him: how could he abandon a child so kind and gentle?”
“That’s what I said!”
“If the answer is not acceptable, I will hold him accountable.”
“Good!”
The king and the prince both cursed Roger Friedrich.
“Achoo. Ugh, cold. Did someone open the door?”
Roger, who had been renovating the first floor of the Demon King’s Tower, put on a thick coat.
* * *
Hillan Cargill quietly closed his eyes and breathed.
When the Beast’s Tower collapsed, countless rumors swept across the continent, yet he stood relatively a step removed from the center of it all.
Most of the credit—and attention—had gone to Rozel Charnte, and behind her, the Magitech Kingdom of Arkan.
Of course, Louise Berfht had played a role as well.
‘This is precarious.’
When a demon or monster was killed, the demonic energy they possessed converted into dimensional power and was absorbed by the hero.
Even when it was not part of formal training, it was still a method by which a hero could grow stronger.
Thus, heroes wished to kill more monsters, more demons, and more Demon Kings.
But too much was as bad as too little. Hillan was fully realizing how true that saying was.
Two distinct powers now resided within his body.
One in his mana heart.
And the other in his aura hole.
The former had been gained when he slew the Lust Demon King, and the latter had settled in place when he severed Draxon’s head.
It was fortunate that he was a magic swordsman.
Just as each human possessed a different energy, Demon Kings were no different. Though similar in nature, the two powers were fundamentally distinct, settling in different locations within him—yet they were impossible to fully control, like bombs that could detonate at any moment.
‘The Lust Demon King’s demonic energy is close to mana. Conversely, the Beast Demon King’s power is aura.’
A difference in nature.
‘If I can truly make these mine…’
He might even carve his name as the greatest hero in all of history.
‘Perhaps I could even break free of the Demon King’s curse.’
For now, there was no way to overcome the mental constraints, but perhaps once his level rose, a solution might appear.
“Hoo.”
Hillan opened his eyes after steadying both mana and aura. As if waiting for that moment, someone knocked on the door.
“Enter.”
He was not surprised; the visitor had not hidden her presence. Rozel Charnte entered.
She scowled, displeased by something.
“Give it.”
“What do you mean?”
Rozel Charnte threw a piece of paper at him.
— I’m leaving due to personal circumstances. As for the promised payment, I leave it with Hillan Cargill.
“...Payment? What is that supposed to mean?”
Suddenly, the agreement that had passed between them when they arranged to place him in the hero’s expedition surfaced in his mind.
‘Mana.’
A most unusually pure mana—spirit-like, resembling an elemental. Berje had squeezed out most of his mana to a crystal and handed it to Rozel Charnte, promising to provide it once more after the hero’s march ended.
‘But…’
He had received nothing though?
Hillan realized.
That damned Demon King had dumped everything on him simply because he didn’t want to pay—and then ran off.
“There seems to be some misunderstanding, but…”
“Give it.”
“...I haven’t received anything.”
“Don’t test my patience.”
Rozel smiled. Hillan felt chills run down his spine.
“...Truly, I haven’t received anything.”
“Then did he write this letter in secret? Did you kidnap Pale just to corner me?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“There’s only one thing you should say to me: ‘I will give it to you.’ And only one thing you should do: hand me the storage containing the mana.”
...Gulp.
A surge of foreboding rose within him, and Hillan swallowed dryly.
“I’ve been too busy cleaning up the aftermath these past few days, so I couldn’t pay attention. Yes, that’s right. I’d forgotten for a moment. Honestly, even now I barely managed to make time. I have to attend the guild meeting soon.”
While she had been organizing documents to attend the meeting, a maid had run in to inform her.
“Pale has disappeared.”
It was then she remembered what she was supposed to receive.
Mana. The purest, flame-like mana.
“But the room was empty.”
No warmth, no belongings, nothing she was supposed to be given.
Only a single note remained.
“You know what? That note is what saved this mansion.”
She barely held herself back from exploding in rage.
She was furious that the talented recruit she intended to take into the Red Flame Assault Unit had vanished, but she had decided to think after she received what she was owed.
“And now you tell me you don’t know anything?”
That he received nothing?
“You see, I hate people who try to deceive me. But even more than that, I hate people who take what’s mine.”
Rumble—
Rozel did nothing, yet the mana responding to her emotions made the mansion’s furnishings begin to shake.
“Please calm down for now. I’ll try contacting Pale—”
“Calm down? That’s not something you do with words. You set down what you owe me right in front of my eyes, then speak if you want to sound convincing, don’t you think?”
Hillan hurriedly pulled out a communication orb. He injected mana into it furiously.
‘Pick up, pick up, pick up—please pick up!’
Five minutes passed like that.
“...”
“Die!”
That day, half the mansion housing the Red Flame Assault Unit burned down.
And within the Red Flame Assault Unit, a public enemy named Pale was born.
* * *
“...Draxon is dead?”
A man who had been sleeping soundly late into the night let out a hollow laugh.
Impossible.
“...How?”
He had already set the entire plan. In this world, there were many who wished for a Demon King to die, but just as many who wanted a Demon King who was ‘reasonably cooperative’ to remain alive.
He was one of the latter.
A Demon King was a useful, necessary evil.
One who made governance easier, and someone upon whom blame could be freely shifted whenever problems arose.
“The Hero Guild did not move.”
“Of course they shouldn’t have.”
With how much they had taken.
“According to Ormus’s official announcement, they say they combined their full strength with the Red Flame Assault Unit and defeated the Demon King.”
“Nonsense.”
They had failed even when everything was intact—yet now, after losing two thousand elites, they succeeded? Not even a stray mutt on the street would believe such drivel.
“Who was it?”
“I believe it may have been the Magitech Kingdom of Arkan.”
“Any traces?”
“None. Which makes it all the more likely that it was Arkan.”
There were only two forces capable of deploying a power strong enough to kill a Demon King in a single night and then making it vanish without a sound: Arkan, the Magitech Kingdom, or the Zespine Empire.
“The reason?”
“Rozel Charnte is at the forefront.”
“Arkan, then.”
The man clicked his tongue.
“And the Hero Guild?”
“A message arrived just now.”
“Bring it.”
The butler brought a communication orb. Once mana was injected, a face appeared.
『Great one—』
He cut off the greeting and went straight to the point.
“Report the Hero Guild’s situation.”
『An emergency summons has been issued for Elders and executives.』
“The atmosphere?”
『The prevailing opinion is that Arkan is the culprit.』
As expected—people tended to think along the same lines.
“These arrogant fools…”
『The issue is that imposing heavy punishment is impossible.』
『Defeating the Demon King is simply fulfilling the hero’s rightful duty.』
The only charge they could place on the heroes who participated alongside Rozel Charnte was that they had defied the guild’s standby order and moved on their own.
Even that would likely be overshadowed by the merit of successfully slaying a Demon King.
“And?”
『Pardon?』
“There is no problem. No punishment can be given. And that is all?”
『...』
“That is the measure of your capability, then. I understand well enough.”
『…I will create one!』
“...”
『Disobeying the guild’s orders is a grave offense. Because of Rozel Charnte, the guild’s major plans have been disrupted, causing tremendous harm! And the sins she has committed are far from few!』
“I doubt the other Elders feel the same.”
『They will. I will make them see it that way!』
“Oh my, I thought it was a trivial matter, but for you to go that far—does that mean her crimes are that severe?”
『Yes, they are.』
“Do your utmost.”
『Of course.』
“I will wish you success.”
『Yes!』
The communication cut.
“These insolent wretches. Spoil them a little and they unravel without end.”
“The Guildmaster is no simple man.”
“At the end of the day, he is still only the head of an organization. Get in touch with the Lake. We need to know what they’re planning.”
The faint smile on the man’s lips disappeared.
* * *
It had been a long journey, but not a meaningless one.
Draxon was dead, and the tower had collapsed.
There was now no evidence left that Berje had gone there.
‘I would very much like to see the face of Archduke Arkaine.’
When he heard the news, he wondered what kind of expression the man would make.
If possible, he hoped it would twist in anger. Berje was not the type to take an insult lying down.
Crunch—
He stepped onto the mid-slope of the Ergest Mountains, where snow fell year-round.
‘As expected, I’m still too weak.’
He had felt many things during the fight with Draxon.
The man he had been in the past and the man he was now were different. The heroes could kill him at any time.
That fact sat in his throat like a lodged bone.
In this life, he intended to devote himself entirely to becoming the hidden mastermind behind the humans. But what if one of those heroes suddenly appeared and cut off his head?
Everything he had built would become meaningless.
‘The most important thing is my own strength.’
He had been drawing too large a picture and overlooked the fundamentals.
‘For now, since I must repay my debts, I’ll need to seek out the spirit pills of Ergest again.’
Or perhaps kidnapping another princess wouldn’t be a bad idea.
The broader the resentment and curses directed at him, the more Demonic Points he could harvest.
‘I should enter the tower and think—’
Berje’s steps halted. His head turned.
White snow. In the distance, the faint wails of monsters. There was nothing visible.
Nothing he could see.
Tap—
Berje extinguished his presence. At the same time, the opponent’s presence vanished as well.
‘Well now?’
The opponent was a master of concealment. Fully blended with nature, presence erased. Just like Berje.
‘To evade my senses?’
Even if this was only the edge of the mountain, the tower wasn’t that far.
Berje’s hair flushed a deep red.
And the waiting began. One hour, two hours. Two hours became half a day, and half a day became a full day.
Rustle—
A man pushed aside the snow and emerged.
‘He must have left, right?’
There was no presence around him. Not the faintest instinctual repulsion that came from demons.
‘At least a high-rank demon. Definitely.’
Black hair, black eyes. And powerful demonic energy—he was not some middling demon.
Even though Berje had been observing from dozens of meters away, their eyes had met. The chill that had run through him at that moment could not be described in words.
‘At least I’ve confirmed this path is one demons use to move around.’
‘Perhaps I can complete the request faster than expected.’
He stretched lightly and brushed snow from his clothes.
At that moment, the previously absent repulsion spiked to its absolute peak.
“Hero.”
“...When did you—?”
“If you’re asking when, must I answer?”
Instead of a reply, black flames rushed toward him. The man rolled desperately.
He drew an invisible bowstring. A mana arrow formed in the air, curving beautifully as it shot forth.
Five arrows flew in succession. The demon staggered.
“A petty trick.”
The arrows were deflected. Through the gap, the flames rushed in, and the man thrust out his dagger.
The aura stretching from its tip split the fire. A smoke bomb detonated right after.
The specially processed, cloudy smoke briefly obstructed the Demon King’s vision. And in that brief window, the man vanished.
“...”
Berje did not bother chasing the rapidly distancing presence.
He couldn’t catch him anyway.
That man was the swiftest of the heroes, a flying squirrel among them.
Across his past and present lives, this was the first time he had seen him directly. But a hero with concealment skills rivaling a Demon King’s, and speed surpassing one, was hardly common.
“Hero, Daphne Phillian.”
The one widely known as the information-gatherer among heroes.
“It seems someone is very curious about the location of my tower.”
Well, it would be strange if pressure didn’t start coming in around now.
‘Zespine, or Hilderan.’
It was most likely one of the two kingdoms whose princesses he had kidnapped.