Chapter 16 - Because They're All Dead

He had been planning to go out anyway. Once Logger finished the blueprints, he would need to purchase the appropriate materials. Berge was the only one who could leave the tower without complications right now.

All that had changed was that he had one more burden to carry. That was how he decided to look at it.

"If you're thinking of running away, go ahead. Carrying you back roasted whole wouldn't be so bad either."

"Of course not! I really could make another one, but it would take too long!"

Logger vehemently denied it. It wasn't that the thought hadn't crossed his mind, but escape was impossible for now. Especially with the necklace around his neck.

"What exactly does this necklace do...?"

"Only one thing."

"Which is...?"

"Separate your head from your body. Logger Fridri becomes Logger and Fridri."

"... Under what circumstances?"

"That depends on how you behave."

"Ah..."

"If you're curious, you can try taking it off."

"Why would I ever do that? I am your faithful servant, my Demon King!"

"Consider it an honor. You're probably the first bastard who isn't a prince or princess to wear one."

The necklace was a blade meant to prevent kidnapped princes and princesses from escaping. It could be purchased with demonic energy points.

"... I'm honored."

Logger swallowed a sob.

The two soon arrived in Hortonwork, the human city closest to Erjest.

"You've made a list of what you need, I presume?"

"Of course. Buying from the dwarven kingdom would be cheapest, and the quality would be best. Of course... that wouldn't be an option. In that case, it will take some time."

"It doesn't matter."

They traveled through several kingdoms to avoid any possible pursuit or exposure of their identities. Including the wait for materials to become available, it took a month. They purchased most of what they needed.

"There's only one thing left now."

"That device you said you made?"

"I call it the Mana Ghost. It erases traces of mana, like a ghost..."

"Your naming sense sucks."

"..."

"Let's go in first."

'At last.'

Logger couldn't hide his excitement at returning to the dwarven kingdom after nearly two months.

Yet the gatekeeper he had met so many times failed to recognize him. Those wretched masks, indistinguishable from real skin, covered both his face and the Demon King's.

Logger barely suppressed the urge to rip his mask off. He had no desire to become Log/ger just yet.

"Haven't seen your faces before."

"We're mercenaries."

"One of our own and a human. Not a common pairing. What brings you to the city?"

"We finished a job nearby and stopped in for a rest."

"I'd rather not be too strict, seeing as you have one of our own with you, but with things as they are in the city, I'll have to search you."

"Has something happened?"

"Just think of it as a few circumstances we have to deal with."

Berge and Logger quietly submitted to the search. Everything suspicious had been stowed in the storage dimension, so nothing in particular caused trouble.

"Don't cause any trouble. Everyone's on edge right now, so it won't end nicely."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Well, if one of our own trusts you enough to work alongside you as a mercenary, I trust you'll behave yourselves."

RRRRR

The ground began descending vertically.

"What do you think happened?"

"... I suspect my disappearance is the problem."

"Because you're a hero?"

"Because I was kidnapped while making the princess's weapon."

"That thing you were melting in the fire?"

"By now, it's probably just a melted lump of scrap metal."

"Which princess do you mean?"

Every prince and princess of the dwarven kingdom was fierce. They were born warriors, beasts seeking a fight.

"I hope it wasn't the second princess."

"It was Her Highness the second princess. Do you know her?"

"... This is going to be a nuisance."

Berge instinctively assessed his condition. Being farther from the tower had strengthened the dimensional interference and weakened his power.

He didn't know how strong the princess was at this point, but one thing was certain: he was in no condition to guarantee victory.

"Let's go to your workshop first."

"Yes."

The workshop lacked its former heat. There was no ringing of hammers, no smell of the smiths' sweat.

Instead, something else was there: sturdy iron fencing and soldiers guarding it.

"Has it been about two months since you were kidnapped?"

"A little less."

"She's relentless."

She had been the same in his previous life, and now she was doing it again.

"... How do we...?"

"We'll just sneak in and take it out."

"That's impossible."

"Think once before you open your mouth, and again before you wag your tongue. Don't mistake your capabilities for mine."

"S-sorry. I overstepped."

"Is there a secret passage into the workshop?"

"There is."

The passage was on the outskirts, about three kilometers from the workshop.

"So you're telling me to stare at your ass the whole way again."

"... Er, I'm sorry I built the passage to fit my body."

"Just lead the way."

"Yes!"

* * *

"It's been a month and a half! And you still haven't found him?"

The princess of the Kingdom of Berft angrily tore apart the table and hurled it. Blood ran down the foreheads of the knights it struck.

"Just how incompetent are you bastards? How much longer must I tolerate your incompetence?"

"We apologize."

"You think an apology fixes everything?"

"There are too many secret passages dug by the dwarves. We are investigating them one by one, but it is highly likely he has already escaped."

"Of course he's escaped! It's been over a month! If he hadn't left by now, he'd be a fucking idiot, not a kidnapper!"

She had already given up on having the kidnapper brought before her once a week had passed.

"Who told you to capture that son of a bitch right this instant? A trace. Is it so hard to bring me one fucking trace that will lead to him?"

"Our deepest apologies."

"Two weeks. I'll give you just two more weeks, making it a full two months. Find a trace of the son of a bitch who took the craftsman making my weapon. Where he went, who he is—even a single hair!"

"Yes!"

"And fill in every passage except the ones secretly built by the city."

"It will be done."

"Get out. I can't stand the sight of you."

The knights hurried out of the room. The princess huffed, trying to steady her breathing. Even so, her fury refused to cool.

"Aaaaaargh!"

She smashed chairs and crushed tables. She crumpled all the iron cups into a single mass and stamped her feet.

"Clean it up."

Only after a long while did she calm down a little. The maids waiting outside hurried in.

The princess left her office and headed for the workshop of the craftsman who should have made her weapon.

The enormous workshop occupied half of the third level. The furnace that should have constantly radiated heat was cold, and no craftsman's hammer rang out.

The lone lump of scrap metal threatened to reignite the fury she had barely managed to cool.

'That was supposed to become a weapon!'

The furnace should have been spewing flames. Logger's arm should have been bringing down his hammer.

Even if the bastard was going to be kidnapped, he should have finished her weapon first. He should not have left behind a single lump of scrap, all the more fragile for being unfinished.

"Logger, just please be alive."

No, he absolutely had to be alive.

"You aren't allowed to die until you finish my weapon."

At that moment—

"Uh..."

One section of the wall quietly opened. The princess, who had been spitting curses as though she would devour him, locked eyes with the dwarf emerging from the passage.

"... You?"

"... Your Highness?"

Her brow twitched. She turned to look at the furnace, then turned back to stare at the dwarf.

"... You're Logger. Aren't you?"

His face might be different, but this was Logger's workshop. He had designed it himself, a space all his own that no one else could freely enter.

Being a dwarf herself, the princess knew all too well what a workshop meant to a dwarf. Thus, she was certain that the dwarf emerging so naturally from its secret passage had to be its owner.

And she realized what had happened. This wasn't a kidnapping. It was the escape of a son of a bitch who didn't want to make her weapon.

"So..."

She didn't even see the human entering alongside Logger.

"You went into hiding because you didn't want to make my weapon?"

She clenched her tiny fist.

"Why didn't you say so sooner?"

She smiled. The dwarf took a step back.

"I would have sliced you up and made jerky out of you right away."

"I-it's a misunderstanding!"

"A misunderstanding? No, I don't think I've misunderstood a thing."

She kicked off the ground.

"I'll rip out the tongue you dared use to mock a princess and make you my slave! You'll forge weapons for me for the rest of your life!"

"E-eek...! P-please spare me!"

BOOOOM

A powerful shock wave shook the workshop.

"And who the hell are you?"

An icy gaze glared at the human. The Demon King disguised as a human felt his hand tingling.

"Logger, get the device you told me about."

"So you left something you needed behind and came back for it? After putting me through all this, you're just taking it easy?"

"I think you should calm down first. You're a princess, after all."

"Why don't you find your peace in the afterlife?"

The princess swung her fist again. Berge clicked his tongue at the violence that seemed impossible for such a small body to produce. The sturdy muscles visible through gaps in her clothing were not to be underestimated.

"Where's the device?"

"Over there..."

Berge followed Logger's pointing finger with his gaze.

"... Do you want to die?"

"That's why I said it was impossible to sneak it out..."

A mechanical apparatus filled one side of the workshop, its massive frame measuring nearly five meters.

It was the pinnacle of magical engineering. Hundreds of wires extended in every direction, winding throughout the workshop. It was so conspicuous that Berge wondered how he had failed to notice it when he first kidnapped Logger.

"It can be detached, I hope?"

"It's installed in the workshop, so I have to disconnect it and gather up all the wires. It will take a little time."

"Who gave you permission?"

THWACK

The princess's fist stopped right in front of Logger's nose. The rush of air that followed whipped his hair about. Blood trickled from his nose.

"Get it ready to take away immediately."

"Y-yes!"

Still gripping the princess's wrist, Berge hurled her away. She broke her fall and landed lightly.

"Who are you?"

"Let's say I'm the master of that poor dwarf you're persecuting."

"Master? Who gave you permission?"

The princess's brow twitched.

"That bastard is mine. He'll become my slave and make my weapons and armor for the rest of his life."

"That won't happen. Unfortunately for you."

"No."

The princess growled.

"I get everything I want. I always have, and I always will."

"This will be an exception."

"You know, no one talks to me that insolently."

"Because you're a princess?"

"Because they're all fucking dead."

She summoned her aura. It raced along her aura pathways and spread throughout her body, strengthening her muscles, blood vessels, bones, and skin.

She kicked off the floor. With a boom, part of it cracked. In the blink of an eye, she was right in front of Berge.

BOOM

There were no tricks or flourishes to her punches. They were crude blows driven straight ahead.

But they were fast and heavy enough to offset every shortcoming. Berge took a step back. Fists and feet rained down like a storm, leaving him hard-pressed just to block them.

'She's not as strong as she was then.'

The woman he had met before his regression had been among the strongest he knew. Her current strength couldn't begin to compare.

But Berge, too, was in a different state. The gap between his current self and the self who had toppled several kingdoms and lifted most of the dimensional interference was as vast as that between a dragon and a snake.

'I could kill her if I had to.'

But he would expend all his strength and collapse from exhaustion. Then the dwarves coming up to investigate the commotion would capture or kill him.

That was the worst of the worst.

'So hurry up.'

If things went wrong, he might have to kill Logger and flee.