Chapter 41 - Even Better If He Dies

Having been cut off from all contact while unconscious, Berge returned to his tower to find an enormous backlog of information waiting for him.

“Where have you been? The whole continent is in an uproar!”

Gordon greeted him with obvious relief. His rambling account confirmed that things had escalated beyond anything Berge had expected.

'Ormus has ordered a general mobilization.'

'An official commission has been submitted to the Heroes' Guild, and heroes are gathering.'

He had intended to screw Drakson over, but he had never expected things to work out this well.

“Roselle Charnt?”

He scratched his chin at the mention of another hero.

“Yes. The hero Roselle Charnt. She comes from Traparta and consistently ranks in the top ten when heroes are ranked by strength. People commonly call heroes like her stars.”

“She is a mage specializing in fire magic. Her close-combat abilities are too formidable to call her merely a mage, and she is regarded as the model battlemage.”

“One point of note: she was originally selected to lead the expedition to the Tower of Bitter Cold, but I displaced her. Now that all the plans have been overturned, she has been selected again.”

Berge, who had been listening quietly, asked,

“So that woman is leading the expedition to The Beast's Tower?”

“Yes. Nearly five hundred people have joined the expedition so far, around two hundred of them heroes.”

“... That's a fucking lot.”

Berge frowned as a memory from the past suddenly surfaced.

“Unlike the previous expedition, this hero's journey will not make a ceremonial circuit. Just like the hero's journey to the Tower of Lust.”

“They really intend to cut Drakson's head off?”

“That is less clear.”

What did he mean, less clear? Heroes were still gathering, and the Heroes' Guild was urging more of them to step forward. By all appearances, they intended to finish the job.

“The Heroes' Guild is firmly committed, but someone has made a move. Some heroes are refusing to get off their asses.”

“That means...”

“There are two possibilities. Someone either does not want the Beast Demon King dead, or bears a grudge against Ormus.”

“An individual can arrange that, rather than the Heroes' Guild?”

“It is officially prohibited, but there are people who sponsor heroes in secret. The heroes receiving their patronage cannot ignore them.”

Heroes needed money, and powerful people wanted heroes as formidable pieces to play.

That was why patronage and lobbying persisted despite an official ban founded on the principle that heroes should act for the continent's safety, justice, and the greater good—not someone's greed.

“Don't you have any patrons?”

“After beheading the Demon King of Lust, I decided I could manage on my own and cut ties with all of them. Patrons are useful for their money, but they interfere far too much.”

“But thanks to a certain someone, it all came to nothing.”

Berge snorted and changed the subject.

“Who is it?”

“Frankly, there are too many suspects. Ormus does not have particularly good relations with other countries. Personally, I consider Ormus's First Prince the most likely candidate.”

“The First Prince?”

“For him, this must feel like having an aching tooth pulled. With his place in the succession secured, there is no need to expend his country's strength attacking a Demon King's tower. But he has no acceptable justification, so he will want to make it a case of 'We have no choice, since not enough heroes have gathered.'”

“Humans really are fascinating.”

In some respects, they were more demonic than demons.

No wonder we lost—the words practically came out on their own.

“I'll have to try a little harder myself.”

He had tried to fight humans who would sell out their own dimension for greed while scrupulously following the Guide and all its predictable, widely known rules.

Looking back now, his life had been destined for defeat.

A question suddenly occurred to him.

“How do you compare?”

“To whom?”

“Is asking questions you already know the answer to a habit of yours?”

“... I am inferior to her.”

“Merely inferior?”

“I would lose nine times out of ten.”

“Aren't you Hillen Cargill, the man who killed the Demon King of Lust? You seem to be selling yourself rather short.”

“Must I answer that?”

“No.”

Yes, he had more or less guessed. Hillen Cargill fell short of his reputation. That did not mean he was weak, but compared with other heroes of equal renown, he was undeniably lacking.

'Frankly, I wonder how he even killed the Demon King of Lust.'

But on reflection, even before the regression, it had been his other qualities rather than his fighting strength that stood out.

Well, it hardly mattered. Hillen Cargill was a capable hero regardless, and having killed the Demon King of Lust, he was guaranteed a future better than his present.

“Now, I want this campaign to proceed smoothly and succeed without fail.”

“... But are you not a fellow Demon King?”

“The only thing he and I have in common is being Demon Kings.”

Besides, Drakson had appointed himself Grand Duke Alkain's dog and been a nuisance to Berge since shortly after his descent. Would his death cost Berge anything? No.

What about the bigger picture?

It would be even better if killing Drakson led humans to underestimate Demon Kings. Berge would use that opening to undermine humanity from another direction.

“What do you think would happen if I leaked Drakson's weaknesses?”

“... If that information is genuinely useful, I will go myself, even if it means serving under Roselle Charnt.”

“Your eyes are full of greed.”

“It is for the greater good. Shouldn't we reduce casualties however we can?”

The shameless bastard's expression did not change in the slightest.

Berge considered it for a moment. If Drakson was going to die anyway, having a hero kill him—particularly Hillen, who was connected to Berge—would be ideal.

Beheading Drakson would bring Hillen fame, and wealth along with it. The higher he rose, the more useful he would become.

The problem was...

'If he grows too powerful, he might become difficult to control.'

Hillen Cargill was a viper. Beneath his mask of courtesy, he concealed a deadly venom.

Even now, while obediently following orders, he was surely trying to find some way to remove the poison lodged in his head.

As far as Berge knew, that was impossible, but perhaps it could be done. Heroes were not people he could judge entirely by his own understanding.

Still, there was no need to rely on only one means of control.

“Then let's do that. I'll compile the information and send it to you soon.”

“Yes.”

“And use the Golden Moon Trading Company as a front to sponsor promising heroes in secret.”

“... I wonder what faces those heroes will make when they discover the truth after so happily accepting the patronage.”

“That won't be until much later.”

“Oh, and another thing. At Golden Moon...”

It was a long while before the call ended.

“Hmm.”

Berge extracted the audio saved in the crystal ball and transferred it to a memory crystal. He put it straight into the mage tower's storeroom.

CLICK

The five or six memory crystals already there welcomed their newest companion.

* * *

“What is it?”

“She says it's strange.”

After hurriedly sorting out the situation, Berge came down to the fourth floor, where Ernyan regarded him with an odd expression.

In one corner, Kaede was practicing her sword swings. Since she no longer charged at him, it seemed his message had gotten through.

“Strange?”

“Yes. Nairuniel said you've changed, my lord.”

“What does that mean?”

“She said you're a Demon King, but you don't feel like one. That you've changed in a strange way.”

“Has that damned spirit's mouth been sewn shut? Why is she hiding behind you and pulling this shit?”

Nairuniel, who had shrunk herself to perch on Ernyan's shoulder, jumped up.

“Pulling shit?!”

“I'm tactfully giving you some space!”

“If you're going to fuck off, fuck off all the way to the Spirit Realm. Why bother with this pointless nonsense?”

“Well, that's because...mmph!”

Ernyan hastily clamped a hand over Nairuniel's mouth.

“She says you don't feel like a Demon King, my lord.”

“Then what do I feel like?”

“This may sound ridiculous, but more like a creature native to this world... I can't really tell myself, though. You do feel a little more familiar...”

“Don't dismiss a high-ranking spirit's senses! You've changed, and there's no doubt about it! I don't know what changed, but something did!” Nairuniel shouted.

“But you don't know what changed?”

“That's right.”

“You proclaim your incompetence remarkably boldly.”

“...”

“Still, you've told me something useful.”

Even a high-ranking spirit, more sensitive to mana than anyone, could not properly discern it. At the very least, that meant the chances of Drakson or another Demon King discovering his Phoenix power had dropped considerably.

“Then...”

WHOOSH

He closed his first heart and opened his second.

Mana replaced demonic energy. His hair and eyes turned red.

“How about now?”

“... Uh.”

Ernyan faltered.

“Is that...really you, my lord?”

“Doesn't it look like me?”

“... Now you look completely human—no, perhaps more like an elf. You're handsome in an ordinary way.”

“How in the world did you do that?!”

Nairuniel was aghast. Her wavering eyes plainly betrayed her confusion.

“You don't feel like a demon, but like a creature from this dimension!”

And one overflowing with mana, at that!

“As this girl says, you're closer to an elf than a human,” she muttered.

“How can a demon—a Demon King—be like this? I've never even heard of anything like it.”

“What in the world have you been doing out there? Did you swallow a spirit somewhere?”

“No, even that couldn't produce this...”

“Good.”

Berge grew more confident in the idea he had privately entertained. If even a high-ranking spirit said he resembled an elf rather than a Demon King, most others would think the same.

'Testing it on Logger will settle it.'

If even a hero could not recognize him...

'There's no reason not to handle things myself...'

None.

No matter how many restrictions he imposed or what other shit he did, ultimately he could trust himself most.

On his way to the stairs leading down to the third floor, Berge stopped beside Kaede. He quietly watched her back as she swung her sword, then went downstairs.

“Haaah...!”

Kaede, who had been doing her best to ignore his gaze, let out a ragged breath.

The moisture soaking her back was not sweat from exercise, but cold sweat from tension.

“What's wrong?”

“... How can you speak to the Demon King so casually?”

“He doesn't really do anything bad, and he treats me normally.”

“Kidnapping you was bad! And that man is a wicked Demon King. His behavior alone can't change that.”

“Kidnapping is bad, but someone might want to escape, even that way, don't you think?”

Ernyan smiled brightly.

“Just as you ran away because you didn't want to get married.”

“How did you—mmph!”

Her face scarlet, Kaede hastily covered her own mouth.

“The Demon King told me.”

“He really is a wicked Demon King! Blabbing about someone else's private life like that...!”

Kaede trembled with indignation.

“Oh?”

Nairuniel, who had been listening quietly, sprang up. She leaned her tiny face closer, eyes sparkling.

“Did you really run away because you didn't want to marry?”

“That's another interesting story. Like the forbidden bond between a Demon King and a princess...”

“Lady Nairuniel, would you please fuck off to the Spirit Realm? I'm asking politely.”

Nairuniel ignored Ernyan.

“I asked whether you really ran away because you didn't want to marry.”

“... I didn't exactly run away. I simply wanted to defeat a Demon King and live as a hero, rather than as an imperial princess.”

“So you hated the prospect of marriage that much. Enough to brave these treacherous Erjest Mountains.”

“...”

“So who was he, and where was he from?”

“Well...”

“Tell me already. Don't you know the worst way to anger a spirit is to leave a story unfinished?!”

Kaede was flustered by the high-ranking spirit's forcefulness. She urgently appealed to Ernyan for rescue, but Ernyan, secretly curious herself, steadfastly pretended not to notice.

“... Ormus.”

In the end, she spoke.

“Ormus, hmm. As I understand it, its princes went gallivanting around so recklessly that all but three died.”

“Was it the First Prince? The Second? Or the Third?”

“... The king.”

It was none of the three.

“As far as I know, the king of Ormus is bedridden and could die any day...”

“Shh. You shouldn't say things like that.”

Nairuniel hurriedly covered Ernyan's mouth.

* * *

“... I can't sense any demonic energy at all. It feels more like I'm facing an elf or an exceptional spirit summoner. Yes, like Hilderan's Crown Princess...”

Berge had now confirmed it with a hero as well.

'Drakson wasn't like this.'

He had never heard of Drakson wielding another power and pretending not to be a Demon King.

Of course, if he had, he would have done it secretly, but Drakson never left his own territory in the first place.

'Come to think of it, he didn't have fire powers either.'

An undying vitality approaching immortality.

And blazing flames that melted everything.

The Phoenix's powers fell into those two broad categories, yet Berge had never seen Drakson wield flames even after obtaining its corpse. There had been no rumors of it, either.

Instead, there were rumors that he was a monster whose wounds regenerated as they were inflicted.

'Drakson has no affinity for fire to begin with. Like the stupid animal he is, everything goes into his body.'

Perhaps that was why he had absorbed only that aspect of the Phoenix's power.

'He doesn't have two hearts, either, so he can't store it separately...'

If the difference came from their racial traits, it made sense.

“But how in the world did you do it? This is the first time you haven't felt remotely like a demon, my lord. If you wouldn't mind, perhaps I could take a small blood sample...”

“... You know magic as well?”

“Nothing remarkable, but a little alchemy and enchantment magic...”

... He was even more versatile than Berge had thought.

Apparently, his reputation as one of the dwarven kingdom's foremost craftsmen had not been a lie.

“Your torso seems too long. I'll personally shorten it to something more befitting a dwarf.”

“I-I'm sorry! My curiosity got the better of me...!”

“There is a time to indulge your curiosity and a time not to.”

“I'll remember that, my lord!”

Logger threw himself flat on the floor. Berge walked past him.

“Where are you going?”

“Down the mountain.”

“Oh, then could you possibly get me some materials?”

Berge scowled and glared at Logger. Apparently, he had given him too much slack lately, and the dwarf was growing increasingly brazen.

“... Ah, well, I can't go down alone... And I can't disobey your order to reinforce the first floor, can I...?”

“If I have time.”

“Thank you! Thank you!”

“But if the results fall short of my expectations, you'll pay for making me run your errands.”

“I-I'll do my very best!”

Leaving the trembling Logger behind, Berge exited the tower. The moment he stepped onto the snow, he withdrew his demonic energy and drew out mana.

After checking that his hair had turned a subtle red, he pulled up his robe's hood to conceal his face completely.

'I originally intended to leave it entirely to them...'

But now that the Phoenix's corpse had opened this path, there was no reason not to take action himself.

Berge recalled his conversation with Hillen Cargill.

[“With the enormous investment and my reputation behind him, Aman Katrash has firmly established himself as heir.”]

He had taken Aman's soul as collateral by making him a dark knight, but humans were fickle creatures. Distance cooled affection, and feelings that once burned like fire faded with time.

Of course, with the contract in place, simply exerting pressure on his soul would have a definite effect, but...

'An opportunity like this has come along. Sitting holed up in the tower doesn't suit me.'

Before the regression, he had been obsessed with appearing “like a Demon King” in his effort to follow the Guide faithfully. There was no need to do the same in this life.

If it made things even a little more efficient and allowed him to tear heroes to death, he was perfectly willing to do the legwork.

'I'd like to see the hero's journey for myself, but...'

He was curious what it felt like to climb a Demon King's tower as a hero.

But since he was not certain another Demon King would fail to recognize him, he put that idea aside for now.

'Hopefully, Drakson takes one hell of a blow.'

Even better if he died.

There was nothing particularly likable about the bastard, so Berge wished him a thorough roasting by Roselle Charnt's magic.