Chapter 19 - Dwarves, Orcs, Elves, and Heroes

“How on earth did you do it?”

The dwarf flailed his short arms and legs like a freshly caught fish. His eyes shone with such childlike innocence that Berge wanted to crush it.

“The Mana Ghost I built connected to the tower’s core! And it transformed like this!”

“Aren’t dwarves attached to their own creations?”

That was why Berge had expected Logger to grumble.

“That isn’t what matters right now. Isn’t this an incredible advancement?”

“What was confined to the first floor has spread throughout the tower.”

“I clearly designed and built it to run on mana, yet some unknown power changed its energy source.”

“And now it can suddenly hide the entire tower? I’ve never heard of or seen anything like it!”

“How on earth did you do it? No, what is this tower?”

Logger fired off his questions in rapid succession. He was the exact opposite of the gloomy, passive dwarf he had been ever since his abduction.

“Surely you didn’t expect a Demon King’s tower to be ordinary?”

“Of course not, but this is truly astounding. I’m going mad wondering what principles could make a transformation like this possible.”

“And?”

“Pardon?”

“So what are you trying to say?”

“Well... if you wouldn’t mind, could I take the machine and tower apart just a little, a tiny little bit—no, examine them?”

His eyes shone brighter than they ever had since his abduction to the tower, with a determination that seemed unwilling to take no for an answer.

‘Is that madness?’

It was a look Berge had only seen in demons obsessed with battle. The object of that obsession was different, but its meaning was much the same. There was nothing particularly new about a dwarf taking an interest in a mystery he had never encountered before.

“Don’t you have things to do before that?”

Logger flinched.

“The hero is drawing closer. He’ll arrive in one month at the earliest. Three at the very latest.”

According to Granada’s reports, the expedition was advancing at a steady pace. Unless something major happened, it would arrive in two months. That could be a long time or a short one, depending on how you looked at it.

“Can you finish everything according to those plans before then?”

“I can. No, I absolutely will! On my honor as a hero!”

“You never cared much about that in the first place, did you?”

“Then I’ll stake anything you want! So...”

“Very well. Meet the deadline, and I’ll let you do what you want. But you must not cause any problems with either the machine or the tower.”

“Of course!”

Logger nodded boldly. The designs were already complete, and the restriction against using mana had been lifted.

He could build it. No, he would build it, without fail.

Madness gleamed in the craftsman’s eyes.

* * *

‘That energy that consumed more demonic energy and produced changes beyond my expectations.’

The tower had failed to identify exactly what it was. But Berge had an idea.

‘It’s dimensional interference.’

The balancing force that weakened invaders and strengthened heroes.

When Berge first met Logger, the dwarf had been making the princess’s weapon. He was extremely weak, yet his hammer blows had power. Mana danced with each strike, imbuing the weapon.

[“I don’t really understand it myself, but people kept saying that mana surges whenever I hammer. So I started thinking of ways to hide mana, and that’s how I made the Mana Ghost.”]

Hearing how Logger had come to create the Mana Ghost had convinced him. Logger lacked a hero’s combat prowess, but all that dimensional interference had been transferred to his hammering.

His skill and passion had earned him one of the greatest reputations in the kingdom, but there was no denying that a hero’s power had lent a hand.

“So it’s actually a good thing...”

Berge had been reluctant to use him because he was a hero, but that had turned out to be an advantage.

“What’s good about it?”

Gordon suddenly shouted.

“We must remove that ridiculous monstrosity called the Mana Ghost at once!”

“Why?”

“Why? Isn’t it obvious? A Demon King’s tower must stand taller than any other building. It must always proudly proclaim its presence, displaying the majesty of demons and of the Demon King. How could hiding it possibly make sense?”

Because that was how a demon should behave. Because that was how a Demon King should behave.

Yet Berge scowled at those self-evident words.

“Do you know something? I’m getting sick of responding to every last complaint of yours.”

“...”

“It’s not that I don’t understand your pride as a demon, but look at our situation. Do you think we can stop those damned heroes right now without this?”

“... We cannot.”

“Exactly. I call people who spout nothing but ideals without offering alternatives idiots. I would appreciate it if you didn’t make me call you one.”

“...”

“If you still wish to object, bring me a plan that befits a demon and that I find convincing.”

“I may dislike the Guide, but I’m not a fool who refuses to follow a sound idea,” Berge murmured.

“You weren’t like this before. I don’t know why you’ve suddenly become an idiot.”

He added something Gordon couldn’t make sense of.

‘He said not to make him call me an idiot.’

He already had.

Gordon bit his lip.

“... I will bring you one, without fail.”

His pride as a demon, his pride as a top graduate, began to burn.

* * *

Berge conducted a number of experiments.

“Closing the door significantly reduces the mana that leaks out.”

At first he had thought it blocked mana completely, but it wasn’t quite that effective. Still, its usefulness was beyond question, given that it effectively concealed spirits, a purer form of mana.

“And then there’s concealment.”

There were various forms of concealment: hiding one’s presence, deceiving the eye with illusions, or becoming part of nature.

The tower’s concealment through the Mana Ghost combined all three. It erased the tower’s presence and used illusions to blend it into the surrounding environment until it became part of it.

It was still at a rudimentary stage and felt somewhat out of place, but as the tower grew and the interference imposed on Berge weakened, it would become more perfect.

“Still, I can’t use it carelessly.”

Twenty demonic energy points per second was no small expense. Unless its efficiency improved or he faced a genuine emergency, he doubted he could even consider using it.

“Ah, come to think of it, I made a promise.”

Remembering his promise to the princess, Berge opened the tower’s storeroom for the first time in a while. The three elixir roots he had acquired earlier still lay there untouched.

“... Tsk.”

Steeped in faint demonic energy, portions of them had turned purple.

That was what he had intended, so he couldn’t call it a bad thing. But he had promised Ernyan one root, which meant it wasn’t exactly a good thing under the circumstances either.

‘No other choice, then.’

In the end, he would have to go searching again. He had entrusted her with an important role; he needed to give her what he had promised if he wanted her to do her best.

Berge went down to the fourth floor.

“Are we going out?”

“I promised you magical herbs, so I should keep my word. The ones in the tower are mixed with demonic energy. You can’t use them.”

It wasn’t impossible for humans to use demonic energy. Dark mages existed, after all, so it depended on how it was used. To spirits, however, it was pure poison.

“Sounds good.”

Ernyan eagerly dressed to go out. With Logger seeing them off, they left the tower.

“We’ll try a different direction this time.”

Fortunately, the sky was clear. Ernyan sent a wind spirit flying ahead. The footprints of one demon and one human marked the snowy path.

“May I ask you something?”

“Good timing. There’s something I’ve been wondering about myself.”

“You can ask first.”

“Why did you accept my proposal?”

“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

“It was. But I didn’t think there was any chance you would.”

He had thought it over again and again, but he simply couldn’t understand. Why had the princess accepted his proposal? Why was she throwing away her own chance of rescue?

“Because of the elixirs.”

“Elixirs are rare, but as Hilderan’s Crown Princess, you must have had them before.”

“Still, the more elixirs, the better, right?”

“Not enough to turn against the hero coming to rescue you.”

“Ah, that really doesn’t work as an excuse, does it?”

Ernyan shook her head. Berge looked down at her without expression.

“... Would you accept it if I said I simply don’t want to return to the kingdom?”

“You have your reasons, I take it?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“I see.”

“You won’t ask anything else?”

“That’s enough.”

As long as she had a reason, that was enough. He wasn’t particularly interested in the details of her family circumstances. All he needed was for her to remain as cooperative as she was now for as long as she was his hostage.

“What was your question?”

“Ah, yes. What will you do with the hero if you capture him?”

“You’re worried about him?”

“He is coming to rescue me, after all.”

“I can’t release him.”

“I know. From what you’re doing, your tower is very different from other Demon Kings’ towers.”

“Get to the point.”

“Will you make Sir Hillen your subordinate?”

Berge had abducted her and had her decorate a floor. He had abducted a dwarf hero and entrusted the first floor to him. That made her wonder whether he meant to put Hillen Cargill to work as his subordinate too.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I heard there hasn’t been a single Demon King like that in hundreds of years...?”

Ernyan stopped walking mid-sentence.

“I found some.”

“Already?”

“But...”

Her brow furrowed.

“Someone’s already there.”

* * *

Perhaps it was because they had headed in the exact opposite direction from last time. Finding magical herbs surprisingly quickly was a good thing. But discovering that someone else was already there was decidedly unwelcome.

Worse still, those occupants were the same kind that had left him with unpleasant memories before.

Poil Orcs. A tribe larger than the last had built a settlement around the magical herbs.

A sentry was visible through the crudely lashed wooden wall. Their eyes met.

“...!”

The orc’s pupils widened. Soon, the blaring of a horn shook the settlement.

“This is going to be a nuisance.”

“Will they resist?”

“They’ve done it once. There’s no reason they couldn’t do it twice.”

Berge casually extended a hand. Flickering black flames burned down the wooden wall in an instant.

But...

“...”

“Wow...”

What greeted them was neither fighting spirit nor bloodlust. Neither crude blades nor filthy teeth.

“We greet the Demon King!”

“O Demon King!”

Reverence. And submission.

Dozens of Poil Orcs were kneeling. They bowed their heads, pressing their faces to the ground in worship of Berge.

“... What are you doing?”

At his question, the Poil Orc at the very front raised his head.

“We earnestly beseech you. Please accept us as your servants, O Demon King!”

* * *

“Granada. You and the Red Hawk have been doing remarkable work.”

Despite some minor friction, the hero’s journey was proceeding relatively smoothly. The absence of demons and demonic creatures meant fewer materials and riches to acquire, but it also served to highlight the heroes’ greatness.

- Frightened by Hillen’s might, the Demon King hasn’t sent even a single demon.

- Nothing can stand in the way of the hero’s journey.

- This hero’s journey is certain to succeed.

Perhaps that was why even bandits didn’t dare target the expedition. Not even the one or two pests that would normally buzz around them appeared. All they encountered were the occasional monsters that had lost all sense of fear and charged at them.

And in those minor battles, the Red Hawk Mercenary Company distinguished itself most. Thanks to the keen senses of the elf Granada, they met the monsters before anyone else could.

There was also the Demon King’s order to outperform everyone and build their reputation.

As a result, Granada frequently found himself interacting with the hero Hillen Cargill.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had an elf like you around.”

“Has it?”

“Elves keep to themselves. Even with a treaty in place, they don’t readily leave their territory, do they?”

That was certainly true of elves. But it was true of most nonhuman races. They did have an instinctive reluctance to leave their territory, but their desire to avoid human interference was stronger.

Granada didn’t bother pointing that out.

“If it’s been a long time, then you must know another elf.”

“I did. We were comrades.”

Hillen smiled bitterly.

“My friend gave their life for me. Thanks to that, I defeated the Demon King of Lust, but...”

“I shouldn’t have asked.”

Granada apologized at the sadness lingering in those final words.

“Not at all. It’s hardly a secret.”

Granada did not miss the single tear that emerged as Hillen spoke.

“That friend was always the first to step forward to slay a Demon King. Like other elves. Like you, leading the mercenaries in hunting monsters. Seeing something so familiar made me nostalgic. I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s perfectly understandable.”

“Thank you for understanding. Shall we have a drink to that?”

“Of course.”

Their cups touched. Hillen laughed cheerfully.

“I look forward to working with you. Somehow, I feel I can trust you to watch my back.”

“You flatter me.”

The rest of their conversation was inconsequential.

“I’ll take my leave, then.”

“Yes. I look forward to seeing what you accomplish next.”

“Thank you.”

Granada went outside.

Left alone, Hillen’s smile vanished in an instant, as though a mask had been stripped away.

“Yes, elves are trustworthy. Elves are.”

Wasn’t that right?

SMACK

Hillen lightly kissed his ring.