Chapter 113 - Flowers Bloom Even in the Mud

Bairif had discovered Habstrain Gorge about fifteen years ago.

An ordinary mage who drifted from battlefield to battlefield, he had become intoxicated by the demonic energy of a demonic creature he encountered one day and aspired to become a dark mage.

Discovering Habstrain Gorge during his life as a mercenary had been a stroke of luck. So had realizing that he was not merely intoxicated by demonic energy, but possessed a talent for it.

He settled at the heart of the demonic energy and began his research. Corrupting monsters one by one, he raised them as undead and built a legion.

Although he could not leave the gorge as he pleased for fear of drawing the Empire's attention, he persevered, believing that someday he would display his power to the entire world.

But...

But what was this?

"... Who are you? Who are you, sir?"

He asked on his knees, his head pressed into the ground. His voice trembled with tension and fear.

"Berge Deias."

"Berge Deias...?"

"You humans call me the Demon King of Hellfire."

"... Demon King."

Why was a Demon King here?

He had been intoxicated by demonic energy and wanted to become a dark mage, but he had never wanted to become a Demon King's slave.

That was why he had come to Habstrain Gorge. He had sought masterless demonic energy, believing he could become a dark mage without enslaving himself to a Demon King.

And he had. He had made it this far.

So why now?

"You stupid little rat."

The Demon King sneered.

"Did you think you could covet a Demon King's demonic energy and keep it hidden forever?"

"All demonic energy moves according to my will. It is not something vermin like you may dare covet at whim."

HUMMMM

The demonic energy resonated. Searing heat flowed from the hand resting on Bairif's head.

Demonic energy surged into him. He screamed at the pain, as though he were being seared with a branding iron.

The pain spread from his head, down his neck, and throughout his body. His heart throbbed. He struggled in agony, as though his bones and soul were being whittled away.

But the demonic energy suppressed even his struggles.

"Ah..."

Bairif groaned. Even through the terrible pain, he instinctively understood what the Demon King's demonic energy was doing.

A mark of obedience.

A contract between Demon King and servant, engraved upon the soul. And a brand.

His soul screamed, lamenting the future bearing down upon him and yearning for freedom.

"I hear humans have a saying."

The Demon King whispered.

"Give up, and things get easier."

So accept it quietly and obey.

His mind went blank. Bairif's vision went dark.

* * *

Bairif walked across a plain. A legion of thousands upon tens of thousands of undead followed him.

Ahead, he could see his enemies.

Battle horns sound and banners flutter. Arrows rain down, and the knight orders charge. Cavalry and infantry follow behind them.

Bairif scoffs at them and gives his orders.

The death knights, commanders of the legions of death, lead the troops. Dullahans and skeletons charge. A lich conjures death magic, and an enormous ogre skeleton ravages the human formation.

Humans die in droves. Corpses form mountains, and blood forms a sea. The once-green plain turns red, and even the sky is dark.

The humans flee in terror. The undead pursue them to the end, delivering death.

Among the humans dying like ants are mercenaries who once insulted him. There are plenty of the scum who trampled him underfoot, calling him vermin.

They beg for forgiveness. Wetting themselves, they kiss the tops of Bairif's feet.

"Bwahahahaha!"

Bairif laughs wildly.

I am the great dark mage, Bairif Crotinu!

Everything is perfect. All the persecution and humiliation wash away in an instant.

Then it happens.

A black shadow billows up. The red sky turns black.

"How insolent."

The cold voice makes his skin prickle. A chill settles at the back of his neck.

"What punishment should I give a worm that coveted another's property?"

The black shadow constricts his entire body.

Bairif resists. Tries to, at least.

But he can do nothing.

"What are you waiting for?"

A powerful force presses him down.

"Kneel at once."

BOOOM

His knees slam into the ground against his will.

And then...

He can only stare helplessly as darkness swallows everything, and the undead turn their teeth and nails toward him instead of the fleeing humans.

Everything he has achieved over fifteen years...

Is disappearing.

'N-no...!'

His voice will not come out.

'No...!'

Even so, he screams until his throat feels ready to burst.

No!

Bloody tears flow.

"N-no!"

He bolted upright. There was no black shadow. Nor was there any invisible force pressing down on him.

"Yes."

Instead, the Demon King who had humiliated him was watching him with gleaming black eyes.

"Quite a noisy dream you're having."

"... Demon... King."

"You forgot 'my lord.'"

"... My lord."

It was not Bairif's will. The obedience branded into him automatically voiced reverence and worship.

"... What in the world have you done to me?"

"I merely branded you with what every dark mage ought to have."

"A soul contract..."

"If you've used demonic energy, you must pay the price. Isn't that right?"

The reply was casual, but Bairif had just lost something immense.

Freedom.

The only dark mage not bound to a Demon King was gone.

Yet he could not vent his anger at the Demon King. The mark of obedience prevented it.

But being unable to express his anger did not make the seething emotion disappear. His sense of injustice brought bloody tears.

"... But it wasn't even yours, my lord, was it?"

"All demonic energy is mine. If I say it is mine, then it is mine."

"That's absurd...! How did you even know I was here?"

"I know everything."

"I wasn't bound to any Demon King. I hadn't even entered a formal contract, so how did you brand me so easily?"

He poured out his resentment in the guise of questions. For fifteen years, he had steadily worked toward something that would have been far easier had he contracted with a Demon King. Seeing it collapse in a single instant was unbearably infuriating.

"You see, I..."

The reason was simple.

Demonic energy was, ultimately, the power of the Demon Realm. And Demon Kings were the equivalent of dragons in the Middle Realm.

They were intimately familiar with demonic energy, using and manipulating it as naturally as instinct. Taking control of masterless demonic energy from a mere human was all too easy.

No matter how extraordinary the human.

No matter how extraordinary the dark mage.

If demonic energy was the source of their power, they could never defeat a Demon King.

"...can do anything."

Berge, however, had no intention of answering his question in detail.

Nor of explaining that he had been able to simply snatch him up because he was an ownerless possession bound to no one.

"What's so remarkable about a dark mage coming to serve a Demon King that you need to throw such a fit? Please stop whining over so little."

"And what are you... A hero?"

Only then did Bairif realize the Demon King was not his only visitor.

Yes, now that he thought about it, his visitors had been a 'Demon King' and a 'hero.'

Two utterly incompatible beings.

"Even I, a hero, serve the Demon King. Do you understand?"

"... What does that mean?"

"Is he slow on the uptake?"

"Isn't he simply panicking? I hate to say it myself, but I'm special even among heroes, aren't I? Everyone swoons at the name Hillen Cargill."

"Have you forgotten that I'm the one who made you special?"

"Let's overlook the little details."

"If killing a Demon King is a little detail, then there is nothing remarkable in this world."

As the Demon King and hero continued their banter, Bairif's mind grew increasingly blank.

'A hero serves a Demon King?'

'A Demon King helps a hero kill Demon Kings?'

'Hillen Cargill?'

'Surely not the hero who killed two Demon Kings?'

'That man serves a Demon King?'

Could this be right?

Everything he had believed to be common sense shattered. Cognitive dissonance set in.

Only after a long while did he barely manage to sort it out in his head.

"... So you're really Hillen Cargill?"

"That's right."

"The one who killed two Demon Kings..."

"That's me."

Bairif had been confined to the gorge for a long time, but he was not wholly ignorant of outside news. He occasionally abducted mercenaries and knights who entered the gorge, extracted every scrap of information they possessed, and turned them into undead.

"And yet you serve the Demon King of Hellfire?"

"That's right."

"That makes no sense!"

"The world is full of things that make far less sense than you imagine. Did you think you would become a Demon King's servant overnight like this?"

"... Well..."

"I never imagined that I, a hero, would become a Demon King's subordinate either. But it happened, and there's no turning back. We're in the same boat."

"..."

It was ridiculous, but he could not refute it.

With his head hanging low, Bairif turned toward Berge.

"Why did you take me as your servant?"

"Is it strange for a Demon King to need a dark mage?"

"What do you intend to do with me?"

"You give up quickly, don't you? I intend to stand back and watch."

"... Watch?"

"Yes, watch."

Berge shrugged.

"You want to lead your undead legion and test your strength, don't you? Isn't that your desire?"

"... How did you know?"

"There is nothing I don't know."

Humans who sold their souls to Demon Kings generally sought two things: revenge and power.

Bairif sought both, but the latter desire was stronger.

Before Berge's regression, Bairif had risen up because he wanted to prove that his legion was stronger than the Empire.

He had failed and died, subjected to public humiliation by the imperial family, but this bastard was quite the lunatic too.

"Humans say that if you can't avoid it, you should enjoy it. The mark has already been engraved, and you have become my servant. In return, I will create the perfect stage for you to shine. What do you say?"

"... Truly?"

"Members of the imperial family will flock to the gorge in droves to subjugate it, competing for the imperial throne. Don't you want to kill them all? There could be no surer stage for showing everyone the greatness of your legion."

"... Well..."

He did.

It was human nature to want to use power once one possessed it. And Bairif's desire had reached its peak. It had always been strong, but now it had accumulated for an entire fifteen years.

"But if the Empire commits itself in earnest..."

"Are you afraid?"

"... Of course not."

He was. He wanted to discover just how impressive his creation was, but he valued his life.

"I swear by the great first Demon Emperor and the Guide that I will save your life, at least. What do you say? If you remain alive, you can try again. Isn't that enough leeway to take them on once?"

"... From what you're saying, my lord, it seems you want me to attack the Empire."

"And if I do?"

"I'll do it."

Whatever else might be doubtful, to demons, an oath sworn by the first Demon Emperor and the Guide carried a value greater than death itself.

"May I ask one more thing in return?"

"Speak."

"Since things have come to this, please grant me power."

"Power?"

"I understand that all dark mages and dark knights receive power from the demons they contract with. Perhaps it was different before, but now that I've entered a contract, there's no reason not to receive power. And if you grant me power, my lord, I will be able to destroy the Empire more thoroughly!"

As the conversation progressed, the confusion in his eyes gave way to madness.

'Hmm...'

Berge tapped his fingers.

Granting power was not itself difficult. That power would be bestowed through the tower, consuming demonic energy points, but he could bear that cost for a more perfectly arranged stage.

The problem was that a dark mage who received a Demon King's power would manifest that Demon King's traits.

If Bairif spewed black flames, the Empire would naturally think of Berge.

What would the ultimate consequences be?

"That isn't for you to decide."

What else could happen? It was obviously a stupid move that could send everything spiraling toward the worst possible outcome.

One he must never make.

"But..."

"I believe I said no. At least while you remain in the Empire, I will not grant you power."

Berge took three tainted elixirs from his storage dimension and tossed them to him.

"I will give you these instead."

Half-tainted mana would actually suit Bairif, a human, better than pure demonic energy.

"Th-thank you!"

"And this."

"A communication orb?"

"Yes. Keep it safe, and answer immediately when I contact you."

"Yes, my lord."

"I will have the imperial family attack the gorge soon. Prepare well."

"Yes! I'll do my utmost to prove worthy of the elixirs you've given me!"

Completely won over by the three elixirs from Mount Erjest, Bairif nodded vigorously.

"Ah, and I need to take some suitable evidence back..."

"What sort of evidence?"

"If I'm to bring the imperial family here, I'll need bait to lure them, won't I? Yes, that should do nicely."

Berge's gaze settled on one spot.

The dullahan under the Demon King's gaze flinched and shuddered.

* * *

"There's something I'm curious about."

After watching Berge carry the dullahan's head for a long while, Hillen spoke.

"Don't ask."

"Do you discover they're mad after taking them as subordinates? Or do you deliberately pick out only the mad ones? Wanting to prove he's stronger than the Empire— isn't he a complete nutcase?"

"Didn't I tell you not to ask?"

"I'm simply too curious."

"Are you unaware that you're one of them?"

"Flowers bloom even in the mud."

"And you're the flower?"

"You could put it that way. Am I not the great hero who killed two Demon Kings?"

"At least none of those lunatics is more obsessed with fame than you."

The Demon King and hero headed back toward the Empire's capital.