Chapter 47 - The Enemy
11 min read ·
“Welcome!”
The Crimson Hellfire raiding party had rented an entire mansion in Ortan, the royal capital, for their lodgings.
‘Heroes here, heroes there.’
He wished he could wring every last one of their necks.
Berge endured the revulsion and anger assailing him from every direction with superhuman patience.
The strongest hero among them spread her arms to welcome Berge.
“Welcome to you too. We have to work together again for now, so... whatever.”
At her blatantly pointed tone, Hillen Cargill silently bowed his head.
“This is Franz, our party’s deputy leader.”
“A pleasure to meet you. I’m Franz.”
“Pale.”
“...?”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Mr. Pale, this is our first meeting, isn’t it?”
“And?”
“Then surely there are certain basic courtesies we ought to observe?”
“Roselle Charnt didn’t.”
“...”
Franz turned his head. Roselle quietly averted her gaze.
“Captain, a word over here.”
Franz dragged her aside.
“What the hell is this?”
“What is what?”
“You never told me he was that kind of person!”
He had thrown manners out the window at their very first meeting and had no intention of changing his insolent tone.
To Franz, who valued teamwork, he was precisely the sort of person they should never admit.
“One person like that is more than enough.”
“We have someone like that in our party?”
“...”
“... Wait. What’s that look supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. But he is still a newcomer. No matter how highly you regard him, Captain, behavior like that only undermines discipline.”
“Discipline comes from ability. Formalities are trivial. Will a demonic creature pass you by because you’re polite? Will a Demon King refrain from taking your head?”
“We’re neither demonic creatures nor Demon Kings!”
“Oh, whatever.”
“For fuck’s—!”
“How about you show some courtesy yourself? I give you a little slack, and you forget what you can and can’t say?”
Her tone was gentle, but its firmness brooked no argument. Franz shut his mouth.
“And don’t get caught up in appearances. Look beneath the surface. Feel that mana.”
Roselle took hold of Franz’s face and turned it. He could see Pale in profile, chatting quietly with Hillen.
“Look hard and concentrate.”
“... You’re right, Captain.”
It was hot. And pure. The mana was like beholding a spirit itself, inspiring involuntary admiration.
Franz could not sense the “latent potential” Roselle spoke of. But simply examining the quality of Pale’s mana told him that the man was extraordinary.
“How can a human...?”
“Perhaps he isn’t human.”
Half-elves and other people of mixed blood were rare, but they did exist, didn’t they?
“What matters is that I don’t want to let him get away.”
He really was so enticing.
Roselle licked her lips.
“... It’s getting difficult even to pretend I haven’t noticed.”
She was utterly blatant.
Though they had manipulated mana to block the sound, they could not hide their piercing stares. Berge ground his teeth.
“You mustn’t lose your temper.”
“I won’t. I can’t ruin the plan over something so insignificant.”
This degree of humiliation was nothing compared with what the hero of the Red Sword had done to him just before his regression.
“We’re done talking. Let’s go to my room.”
A moment later, Roselle led Berge and Hillen away. At a glance from her, Franz discreetly excused himself.
CLICK
The bedroom door closed, and the faint smell of reagents stung their noses.
“Sit there. I don’t have anything to serve you.”
Two glasses of cold water were set on the table.
“Now, let’s talk.”
“Talk?”
“An interview, to be precise.”
“Hadn’t I already passed?”
“In my heart, you’ve passed a hundred times over. But my body objects. I can’t accept someone when I feel that itch warning me I’ll be stabbed in the back.”
“How insulting. You were the one who approached me.”
“I know. I’d like you to consider this a mere formality.”
She opened a drawer and took out a document.
“Name: Pale. From Hilderan. Where in Hilderan, exactly?”
“Must I tell you even that?”
“Yes. Because this says they couldn’t find anything about you.”
“You investigated me.”
“Don’t take it too personally. If you’re a spy here to sabotage the hero’s journey, we’re all doomed, aren’t we?”
Such things did happen from time to time. For a hero’s journey, which drew everyone’s attention, they belonged to the distant past, centuries ago. But they still occasionally happened to smaller raiding parties.
“You were the one who offered to recruit me first.”
“I may rush into things without thinking, but I like to tidy up afterward.”
“I have no reason to tell you. Nor do I have any reason to accept restrictions.”
“No. If I say it’s necessary, it’s necessary.”
“Then I’ll withdraw.”
He could not withdraw. Berge had to take part in this hero’s journey and confirm Drakson’s death.
He could still make the threat because he was certain Roselle was just as desperate as he was.
‘Judging by what I’ve heard of her personality and the look in her eye, she won’t simply let me go.’
Sure enough, her brows twitched, as though she had never imagined he would refuse.
“You’d throw away a chance to join the Crimson Hellfire raiding party?”
“It isn’t important to me.”
“Didn’t you ask me to start the hero’s journey as soon as possible because you had a reason for it?”
“You seem to have more of a reason than I do.”
Roselle’s mouth twisted. She turned her gaze aside.
“Hillen Cargill. Can you vouch for Pale’s identity without reservation?”
“Of course.”
“Even stake your head on it?”
Hillen hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“... Well, this is surprising. What could your relationship be, that you’d risk your life?”
That he would go so far to conceal Pale’s identity?
“Fine. I’ll trust you.”
“You can trust Hillen?”
“I don’t trust Hillen. I trust the career he’s built and the honor he’s so obsessed with.”
The Hillen Cargill she knew was more obsessed with honor and appearances than anyone else.
“If he betrays us, all of that will vanish. I’ll personally see to it.”
Her sharp gaze swept over Hillen.
It was a remarkably accurate assessment.
She beamed.
“But I have a condition.”
“A condition?”
“I’m turning a blind eye to your evasiveness. Shouldn’t I get something in return?”
“As I understand it, I’m joining at your request.”
Anyone listening would think he had begged her.
“Oh, come now. You must want something too, if you’re asking to begin the hero’s journey so quickly.”
“... What do you want?”
“Your mana, blood, and hair.”
From their first meeting until now, Roselle Charnt had had only one goal.
Berge’s mana, dense enough to rival a spirit’s, and its heat.
She wanted them. If she could not have them, she wanted to find a way to make them hers.
She held out a crystal ball.
“This is a mana storage orb. Fill it with your mana.”
“I refuse.”
“What?”
“How am I to know what you’ll do with my hair and blood? I will give you mana instead.”
The Phoenix’s power might have concealed his demonic energy, but his body was still that of a demon. If an archmage like Roselle studied it, she was bound to discover the truth.
His mana, however, belonged entirely to the Phoenix, so it posed no problem.
“With mana alone, I can’t discover how you acquired this power...”
“Then I’ll give it twice. Once now, and once more when the Demon King dies.”
“... Fine. I’ll settle for that for now.”
“... For now?”
Roselle nodded. Berge felt uneasy, but extended his hand.
He closed his eyes and released mana, taking the utmost care not to disturb his demonic energy.
“... You’re determined to squeeze every last drop out of me.”
“It’s a rare opportunity.”
Pouring in his mana took longer than expected. Despite its appearance, the crystal ball had an enormous storage capacity.
Roselle grinned. Feeling slightly dizzy, Berge withdrew his hand.
“Excellent.”
“Now it’s time for you to keep your promise.”
He paused to catch his breath.
“Perfect timing.”
Roselle shrugged. At that moment, an immense wave of mana swept through the mansion.
“... They must have money to burn.”
“The Kingdom of Akan has always been rich.”
CLANK, CLANK
The sound of heavy armor rang through the corridor.
KNOCK, KNOCK
“Come in.”
The door opened. A knight in silver full plate armor bowed his head.
“I greet the great hero, Lady Roselle Charnt. I, Genoi, report the arrival of 301 knights, including myself, and a force of 152 mages.”
“Welcome.”
Roselle rose and offered Berge her hand.
“Get up.”
Berge lifted his head and met her eye.
“Because the second hero’s journey starts now.”
“... Now that, I like.”
Berge took her hand.
* * *
Secretly.
And swiftly.
That was the intention of Roselle Charnt and the Kingdom of Akan, who had spearheaded the operation.
Before the other kingdoms noticed.
And even if they did notice, the operation would already be over, leaving them free to withdraw.
Thus, hundreds of carefully selected elite troops appeared in the Ortan mansion through a teleportation circle.
The mana stones required to activate the circle alone cost a staggering sum, but Akan placed far greater value on what it could gain by hunting down a Demon King.
“We can cover that much money with the tower’s treasury.”
“We cannot let this opportunity slip away.”
Akan, the kingdom of magic, had always coveted rare materials and treasures from demonic creatures and demons.
Their value was limitless, and more than a few magical achievements had been built on the blood of demonic creatures and demons.
And so they made their decision.
It was something they could never have done under normal circumstances.
Though the hero’s journey had failed, it had inflicted heavy damage on the Demon King’s tower. Without Ormus’s desire to erase the tower as quickly as possible, and without Roselle Charnt’s tremendous enthusiasm, the plan could never have been put into action.
With Ormus’s tacit approval, a secret second hero’s journey began.
“The Golden Lion Knights, the Red Tiger Knights, the White Wolf Knights. Good heavens, even the Blue Meteor Mage Corps, the Golden Galaxy Mage Corps, and the Red Sun Mage Corps...”
Hillen marveled as he examined the troops who had come through the circle.
Every one of these organizations ranked among Akan’s strongest military forces. Their presence showed just how seriously Akan was taking this operation.
With Akan’s finest replacing their forces, the mercenaries, including the Red Hawk, were excluded.
Strict secrecy was essential.
‘The Blue Meteor Mage Corps.’
The Blue Meteor Mage Corps had come to Berge’s tower in the past as well.
A tower’s environment reflected its Demon King. Since Berge primarily wielded fire, his tower had been filled with heat, while the Blue Meteor Mage Corps specialized in ice magic.
They had not managed to reach the top—no, they had chosen not to—but he remembered them being quite troublesome, costing many demonic creatures their lives.
The force consisted of those six military organizations, the Crimson Hellfire raiding party, and another seventy-one heroes Franz had recruited separately.
Berge exchanged no substantial greetings with them. A few mages marveled at his mana, but otherwise they paid him no attention either.
To them, Berge was merely an uninvited guest.
After those brief exchanges that scarcely qualified as greetings, the second hero’s journey departed Ortan.
“Are you confident?”
Berge drew alongside Roselle Charnt, who was flying at the head of the group.
He acknowledged that their force was far from weak. But he had his doubts.
Even after the previous hero’s journey, could they really kill Drakson with no more than this?
Drakson had survived in the dimension of Arain for nearly a century. He was not so incompetent that one or two hero’s journeys would bring him down.
“Of course.”
Roselle Charnt smiled confidently.
“A mage is a planner. This plan is perfect.”
“The last one didn’t seem to be.”
“It wouldn’t have failed if Balaf, that goddamn son of a bitch, hadn’t suddenly run off. Or if Hillen Cargill had been as strong as his reputation suggested.”
“In the end, the Demon King is what matters. Do you have someone strong enough to keep him occupied?”
“Obviously. Do you think I’d trust Hillen Cargill twice?”
“Here he comes, right on time,” she murmured.
A presence could be felt far in the distance. A “hero” with an immense presence was racing toward them, one who did not pale even beside Roselle Charnt.
The expedition halted. A new hero joined them.
“Say hello. This is Ralph Schmitz. He’s weaker than me, but you’ve at least heard the name, haven’t you?”
The heavily armored hero dismounted and removed his helmet.
In that instant—
“...!”
Berge’s gaze locked onto him.
A handsome face.
Brilliant blond hair.
Eyes as blue as the sea.
Even that muscular body, so at odds with his face.
Berge’s skin prickled. His heart pounded wildly.
“Hey.”
Sensing something strange, Roselle nudged Berge.
“... What did you say?”
“I asked whether you knew Ralph Schmitz.”
“I do.”
How could he ever forget?
That man.
That bastard.
That fucking son of a bitch.
The hero, Ralph Schmitz.
“Very well indeed.”
He was one of the heroes who had demolished Berge’s tower and mocked him to his face just before his regression.