Chapter 20 - Can I Trust Her?

“You want me to accept you as my servants?”

Monsters had an ecosystem of their own. The strong preyed on the weak. Though they had branched off from demonic creatures and escaped some of the Demon Realm’s influence, they had inherited their ancestors’ disposition unchanged.

They fought and struggled. They ate and were eaten. To survive, they had to fight and grow stronger.

Ironically, however, no races were more firmly bound by their birth than demonic creatures and monsters.

Orcs could not defeat trolls. Orcs could not defeat yetis. Orcs could not defeat ogres. Orcs could not defeat basilisks, cockadrilles, gargoyles, or wyverns.

The orc race possessed exceptional reproductive prowess, boasting the largest population among demons, but its limits were clear. Weak and numerous, orcs were looked down on even by humans.

Of course, there was a hierarchy among orcs as well. Poil Orcs stood at the very top. Even a small group could tear an ogre apart, and humans could not dismiss them lightly. But everything was relative.

The harsh terrain of Erjest reduced Poil Orcs to ordinary orcs. They stood at the bottom of Erjest’s ecosystem and had to do whatever it took to survive. That was where magical herbs came in. Those herbs were their hope of breaking through their limits.

“So they dared defy a Demon King’s command rather than surrender their magical herbs? And you expect me to understand?”

Berge let out a derisive chuckle. Did these idiots have any idea what they were saying?

“We do not ask for your understanding. They merely paid the price for their foolish choice. We only wish you to know that our tribe is different.”

“You had better be. If you were the same as them, you would not be flapping your gums in front of me.”

The orcs trembled at the faint killing intent.

“Did you know I would come?”

“Not long ago, we heard that the Fierce Wind tribe had been wiped out. We also heard that you slaughtered them because they coveted magical herbs, Your Majesty.”

“And?”

“We realized that you desired magical herbs. Our tribe found some, and we thought you would eventually come to claim them. So we moved our tribe here and waited.”

“The tower is not far away. Why didn’t you come there?”

“We thought you would not want that...”

They had some sense. Had they come to the tower and made unreasonable demands, he would have torn all their heads off.

“We humbly beseech you to accept us as your servants.”

“Please accept us!”

The Poil Orcs pressed their heads to the ground once more.

“What is your name?”

“I am Krutu, chieftain of the Red Frost tribe.”

“How many orcs are in your tribe?”

“One hundred fifty-three. Half are warriors.”

Berge fell into thought. This was not unprecedented. Some intelligent monsters capable of speech voluntarily asked to become a Demon King’s servants, because it was another way to overcome the limits of their species. By receiving the demonic energy of the Demon King and the tower, they could rise a level.

Strictly speaking, they were recovering their original forms, but Berge could not deny that the offer appealed to him.

Because Poil Orcs were useful? No. It was because of Krutu.

Why were monsters called monsters? It was not merely because they had descended from demonic creatures. They lacked intelligence and relied on instinct. They were difficult to communicate with and did not seem like sapient beings.

If every orc were like Krutu, humans might have classified them as another race rather than monsters. They would have been demons, not demonic creatures.

That was not all. The presence Krutu exuded was distinctly different from the other orcs. Yes, this one had already...

“You’ve eaten a magical herb.”

“Yes. Long ago, I was fortunate enough to eat one my father obtained for me.”

“Very well. I will accept you.”

“Thank you!”

“It is too soon to celebrate.”

Monsters accepted as servants received demonic energy through the tower. Much like the wages humans paid, they consumed a steady supply of it. That was precisely what monsters sought by becoming a Demon King’s servants, but Berge, who was desperately short on demonic energy, had no intention of accepting them on those terms.

And so...

“You alone will become my servant.”

He devised a grander plan.

* * *

“... So this is...”

Stepping inside the tower, Krutu looked around in a daze.

“A Poil Orc this time?” Gordon asked upon noticing Krutu.

“Who might this gentleman be?”

“My adjutant, Gordon.”

“It is an honor to meet you, Lord Gordon. I am Krutu, leader of the Red Frost clan.”

Gordon blinked at his smooth, effortless manners.

“An orc...”

The orcs he knew could not speak so fluently.

“He will be the first servant I take since descending to Arain.”

“... He has my wholehearted welcome.”

At last, a proper monster. Not a princess or a dwarven hero, but a monster. Gordon had no reason to object. Not that objecting would do any good in the first place.

“But a dwarf in the tower...?”

Krutu’s gaze turned toward Logger’s back. The dwarf was so absorbed in building traps that he had not even noticed the owner’s return.

“Does that matter?”

“No. Come to think of it, you were traveling with a human woman.”

“You see, I have no intention of taking servants for the time being. Or rather, I had none.”

His demonic energy was limited, and he did not want to waste it taking in orcs of little use.

“You alone changed my mind.”

“I am honored.”

Krutu’s potential. The potential of the Poil Orcs under his leadership.

“But though I will accept you as my servant, I have no intention of making you a member of the tower.”

“... Is there a difference?”

“There is. I will take you as my servant and control the entire tribe through you, its chieftain. So you will roam the snowy mountains with your tribespeople.”

Orcs were a race that ran across broad plains, roaring with their beastly ferocity. Even setting demonic energy aside, confining such creatures in a cramped tower was extremely inefficient. For that reason, orcs were not particularly popular monsters among Demon Kings.

“You have struggled in Erjest for many years. You have roamed from mountain to mountain, eating monsters and being eaten by them. You know the terrain and the monsters’ territories. Correct?”

Krutu nodded at Berge’s rapid-fire words.

“That is correct.”

“Through you, I have seen the future.”

Berge brimmed with delight. It was no lie. In his imagination, the Poil Orcs raced through the mountains, roaring at the band of heroes climbing up to kill him. The sight of mountain monsters, lured there at the risk of the orcs’ lives, ambushing the heroes as they pushed through heavy snow was utterly exhilarating.

“Take this.”

It was an Iasinth. It had lost its original coldness and purity, now steeped in the dense, murky energy of the Demon Realm.

“My servants must be worthy of my exalted stature. They must stand behind me and support me, crush my enemies, and lay down their lives for me.”

If he did so...

“I, too, will bestow my gifts upon you.”

“Ah...”

Krutu knelt, bowed his head, and raised both arms. He carefully accepted the altered Iasinth.

“I am honored...!”

Berge placed his hand on Krutu’s head.

[Would you like to accept the Poil Orc Krutu as your servant?]

[1000pt of demonic energy will be consumed.]

A fairly steep price. That meant this one was worth that much.

Demonic energy surged. A slave brand was engraved upon Krutu’s soul. The demonic energy dormant within him awakened, drawn forth by the tower’s power. Black horns grew from his head. Patches of tougher, gray hide spread across parts of his skin.

GRRRR

His pupils turned black. A small black dragon emblem, the symbol of Berge, appeared on his chest. Krutu trembled with elation and let out an excited breath.

“My liege, your command.”

“Go. Go and grow your tribe. Devour and conquer other tribes to expand your forces. And as you do, await your time.”

There was no rule that heroes had to be met inside the tower. Inflicting as much damage as possible during their climb would make them easier to deal with.

“I obey.”

The demonic creature, having partially regained its Demon Realm form, bowed its head as loyalty welled up from the depths of its soul.

* * *

[182pt]

Completely broke.

Berge could not stop himself from sighing.

Before his regression, he had been glorious. He had kidnapped princesses from several kingdoms and slaughtered countless heroes and even more humans. His infamy had spread across the continent, and humanity’s negative emotions had never run dry. He had always been flush with hundreds of thousands, even millions, of points.

“... But I died in the end.”

Infamy had earned him many points, but just as many enemies. Heroes had come to his tower practically every day. He had welcomed them with demonic creatures summoned at enormous expense, but those creatures had all become sacrifices.

“Back then, I was stupid enough to think I’d won.”

Every time the heroes came, his demonic creatures were depleted. But some heroes escaped alive, and Berge had mocked them as rats rather than pursuing them. Even after it happened several times, he had merely thought those weaklings were remarkably persistent.

He had never realized it was all an act.

A low, self-mocking laugh escaped him. The anger engraved upon his soul slowly reared its head.

‘Still, I’ve done almost everything I can for now.’

He had plotted to sow division by denying the humans materials and riches to claim. He had unleashed Poil Orcs upon the mountains. Mana cannons were being prepared on the first floor. And if the heroes overcame all of that, the princess they were supposed to rescue would turn against them.

‘While they’re distracted by the princess...’

He would personally smash them in the back of their defenseless heads. That was the highlight.

Given the choice, Berge hoped the hero would make it to the fourth floor. Just imagining that dumbfounded face delighted him.

“... Are you busy?”

Speak of the ogre. Ernyan peeked through the gap in the open door.

“What is it?”

“I knocked, but you didn’t answer...”

“I asked what you wanted.”

“Lord Gordon told me you called for me.”

“Ah.”

So he had.

Berge rummaged about and took out a fruit. It was one of the two fruits the Red Frost tribe had been protecting. Was it called an Alloze? Unlike Iasinths, these grew as fruit on a single tree.

“The tower taints elixirs with demonic energy. You should eat it as soon as possible.”

“Thank you! Um, also...”

“Speak.”

“You said you wanted me to stop the hero myself, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“How exactly would you like me to do it?”

Berge fell silent, unable to understand her motive for asking.

“Oh, I don’t mean anything by it. Surely there’s something more specific you want? I thought it would be better to be clear.”

“I didn’t expect you to be this enthusiastic.”

“Once I’ve been paid, I should do my best. I think that’s the proper thing to do.”

Did that human sense of duty usually extend to demons? Well, it hardly mattered. If she was going to work hard, all the better.

“You cannot beat Hillen Cargill anyway. But you can throw him off balance.”

“Aha, you want me to seduce him? I’m confident I can do that.”

“...”

“... No?”

Ernyan, who had winked at him, deflated.

“I don’t care how you do it. You only need to make it immediately clear that you are his enemy. He would never imagine that the princess he is supposed to rescue would try to fight him.”

“And you’ll exploit that opening, Your Majesty.”

“Yes.”

“In that case...”

After a moment’s thought, Ernyan’s eyes lit up.

“Wouldn’t it shock him even more if I introduced myself as your subordinate?”

“That would be a good approach, but...”

Really?

“I’ll think about it some more and let you know if I come up with something better.”

‘Why does she look like she’s enjoying this?’

He could not understand her, so he did not bother trying. After all, as the old saying went, you weren’t supposed to try to understand a crazy bitch.

“Do as you please.”

He waved her off. Ernyan left with a bright expression.

‘Can I trust her?’

He had his doubts, but the die was already cast. Berge decided to do what he could for now.

He took a root of Iasinth steeped in demonic energy from the storeroom, put it in his mouth, and chewed. The demonic energy dissolved and raced through his entire body. His pupils turned black.

* * *

『We have arrived in Hortonwork. We will begin climbing the mountains soon.』

Time passed, and at last, the band of heroes led by Hillen arrived at the Demon King’s doorstep.