Chapter 48 - Glad I Came

『... The hero's journey has been delayed. But I cannot hold it off for long.』

“That will be enough.”

Drakson sighed in relief. That was one worry off his shoulders, for now.

『I am very displeased with your behavior lately. I'll say it again: there will be no second chance.』

“I thought I made it clear that wasn't my doing. That bastard Berge is a complete idiot, too.”

『A prince was killed by a demon in your territory, and you claim it wasn't your doing? Unbelievable.』

『Had this been anyone other than Ormus, I couldn't have smoothed things over like this.』

Drakson ground his teeth. There was a gulf between him and the person beyond the crystal ball that could never be bridged.

'Whoever you are, I'll tear you limb from limb when I catch you.'

Both the demon and the Demon King who had put that demon up to it.

“During the second hero's journey, I will release not only the princes and princesses I hold captive, but all the prisoners from the expedition as well.”

『I'll hold you to that.』

The connection abruptly cut off. Drakson irritably tore into the meat sitting at one end of the table.

“If I keep buying time, identify the culprit, and restore the tower with His Grace's support...”

He could survive, though it would cost him somewhat.

“No, not somewhat. An enormous cost.”

He knew that if Grand Duke Alkain supplied him with demonic creatures and demons, he would have to pay tribute in demonic energy worth more than what he received.

But nothing mattered more than his life, so he had no choi—

“We have a crisis!”

Casey burst through the door, breathless.

“What is it?”

“I-intruders! Approximately five hundred humans have entered the territory. Judging by the number of heroes among them...”

KABOOM!

The table shattered into nothing. Casey caught his breath as suffocatingly vicious demonic energy filled the room.

“Those fucking bastards...!”

* * *

The Heroes' Guild had figures who brought it glory in the public eye: the ten greatest heroes.

People called them the Ten Stars, the stars of hope, but the title was rather embarrassing, and the heroes who bore it were not particularly fond of it.

At any rate, Roselle Charnt was one of the Ten Stars. So was Balaf Dislord, who had refused to join the hero's journey.

Since the distinction took honor and achievements into account, not merely strength, Hillen Cargill had also earned a place, albeit the lowest, in recognition of his defeat of the Demon King of Lust.

And the man before him, Ralph Schmitz, was another of the Ten Stars.

The Ralph Schmitz Berge remembered was an annoying heap of scrap metal. A wall that held up a shield larger than his own body and blocked virtually every attack.

“Are you all right?”

Noticing something was wrong with Berge, Hillen quietly addressed him.

“... I'm fine.”

Berge barely managed to breathe.

Meeting a hero he had only heard of and facing one who had helped kill him were worlds apart.

Even so, he endured. He barely suppressed his seething urge to kill and the demonic energy threatening to run wild.

'Hold back. If you don't, you'll die.'

Like Roselle Charnt, Ralph was too powerful for Berge to defeat in his current state.

Nor was Ralph Schmitz the only problem. Berge was in the middle of an expedition, deep in enemy territory.

'Then...'

What about striking him from behind at a critical moment in the battle against Drakson?

For now, at least, he could not be sure it would work. Nothing mattered more than killing Drakson. He could not gamble.

“It's been a while.”

“I'm counting on you.”

“Don't forget your promise.”

Ralph Schmitz exchanged brief greetings with Roselle, then lost interest in everyone.

“He's always been famously taciturn.”

He seemed less taciturn than plain rude.

With its last member now present, the expedition advanced swiftly toward the Beast's Tower. Perhaps because the first expedition had already swept through the area, very few monsters attacked them.

At last, they reached the enormous eleven-story tower.

'I never thought I'd come here as a member of an expedition.'

Much less try to kill Drakson himself.

“We're going in. Everyone, stay alert.”

At Roselle's signal, the knight orders took the lead. The mages made every preparation to cast their spells at a moment's notice.

CREAK

The tower began welcoming its guests.

First floor. Dire wolves.

There was no need for anyone else to intervene. A few strokes of the knights' blades left them all dead.

“Their quality really has dropped. Not enough time, I suppose?”

Roselle and Akan's elite troops cheered.

They swiftly climbed onward through the second and third floors.

'By the book.'

The demonic creatures grew a little stronger with each floor, but they were far too weak for inhabitants of a Demon King's tower.

Probably...

“He seems to be using the same strategy again.”

Hillen Cargill whispered. He was right. Drakson intended to gather his forces at the top and settle everything in a single battle.

But Berge was skeptical. Roselle Charnt and the heroes were bound to guess as much, too.

'There's no way Drakson hasn't considered that.'

Drakson had graduated from the Demon King Military Academy and claimed the position of Demon King. He was no fool. Like the other demons, he simply could not abandon the Guide.

The Guide had become more than custom. It was a religion.

As Berge stepped onto the fifth floor with that thought in mind, screams rang out.

“Aaaagh!”

“Poison!”

The armor of several knights at the front had corroded. Acrid smoke stung his nose.

The heroes capable of healing magic hurried forward. The knights formed a defensive formation, while some of the mages cast scanning spells.

Demonic creatures sprang out amid the commotion.

“Enemies!”

“Hold them off! Save our men!”

“There are traces of demonic energy everywhere. This is...”

“It means he's laid traps all over the place.”

'He's found a loophole.'

The Demon Kings of Arain sought ways to survive without violating the Guide. This was no different.

'The fifth rule of The Demon King's Guide.'

[Station weak demonic creatures and monsters on the tower's lower floors, and increase their strength on the higher floors. The Demon King must always await the heroes at the summit.]

Nowhere did it say not to set traps. Whether those traps were weak or vicious did not matter.

Still, Berge had never expected Drakson to lay traps. Even among demons, beastmen were second to none when it came to bravery, to put it kindly—or stupidity, to put it less kindly.

Before his regression, Drakson had been the sort to worship direct confrontation, not traps.

'If he's laid traps, he's determined to win by any means necessary.'

Drakson, of all people, had abandoned his stubborn principles at the cost of his pride. That must mean he was cornered that badly.

'I never thought this would be easy.'

The decades Drakson had spent in Arain would not count for nothing.

Still, Berge was curious.

'What kind of face are you making right now...?'

A faint smile crossed his lips.

* * *

“How dare they stab me in the back!”

Unable to contain himself, Drakson crushed the communication orb.

He had contacted them dozens upon dozens of times. But they merely said it couldn't be true, or that they would look into it, then cut him off. No further answer came.

In the end, he could only conclude that he had been dancing like a fucking idiot to their tune.

“I'll make you regret what you've done today!”

Drakson roared. After venting his fury, he forced himself to regain his composure.

Those vermin came first.

“Have you identified the intruders?”

“Yes. There are 526 in total, counting the knights, mages, and heroes. The knights and mages bear no insignia indicating their affiliation, so identification is difficult, but they are on par with the finest elite troops of most kingdoms.”

“Your opinion?”

“Akan. Only Akan could dispatch elite troops of that caliber so quickly. Roselle Charnt most likely organized the expedition.”

“Those magic-crazed fuckers must covet my hide and bones. Who warrants particular caution?”

“Roselle Charnt, Hillen Cargill, and...”

He had expected that much. It was hardly unusual for those who had failed to grit their teeth and climb again.

“Ralph Schmitz.”

“... That annoying bastard?”

As heroes tended to be, Ralph Schmitz was fairly well known among the Demon Kings.

The sturdiest iron wall among the heroes. Drakson had heard he had advanced straight through a basilisk's breath, blocking it head-on, and torn out its tongue.

A basilisk could not compare to him, a Demon King.

Still, he could not deny that a particularly troublesome foe had joined them.

'Ralph Schmitz and Hillen Cargill will try to tie me down. Then Roselle Charnt will prepare a decisive strike.'

In that case, he had to ignore Ralph and finish Roselle Charnt first.

As he pictured the battle in his mind, he surveyed the tower's interior. A seemingly familiar face caught his eye.

“... Berge Deias?”

No, that was not Berge Deias.

At a glance, the resemblance could easily fool him, but the hair and eyes were different. Above all...

“Can you sense demonic energy from the expedition?”

“None whatsoever.”

Had it been Berge Deias, Drakson could not possibly have failed to notice the moment he entered the tower.

'Still, can someone really look that much like him...?'

His doubts lasted only a moment. They were drawing closer. The traps he had installed just in case were steadily slowing their progress.

Should he count himself fortunate that they had not proved pointless? Or unfortunate?

“The demons?”

“All standing by at the summit.”

“The demonic creatures?”

“1,321 in total.”

That excluded the weak demonic creatures stationed alongside the traps to comply with the Guide.

Originally, there had been more than three times that number, but the first hero's journey had taken a heavy toll. Nearly three hundred heroes alone had gathered for that attack.

“What should we do about the royals underground...?”

“It's too late to follow the Guide.”

Normally, the prescribed course was to greet the expedition at the summit with a princess beside him. But the sudden turn of events had made him miss his chance.

“Just leave them.”

Drakson opened the door and stepped outside onto the eleventh floor. His retainers filled the space around the throne.

“They are coming! Show no mercy to the scum who think demons are beneath them. Let none leave alive.”

That was enough. Thick killing intent engulfed the entire eleventh floor.

Attended by his demons, Drakson crossed the carpet, climbed the steps, and seated himself on the golden throne.

Then the doors opened.

* * *

His first feeling was nostalgia.

A Demon King seated in majesty. Demons attending him, and thousands of demonic creatures under his command.

Berge had once been the same. No, he had surpassed this. He had commanded more demons and more demonic creatures, asserting his authority as a Demon King.

But he did not miss those days. In his ignorance, he had built nothing more than a castle on sand.

Every demon and demonic creature had been cut down, and in the end Berge, too, had lost his life.

He had no desire to repeat that humiliation and despair.

It was regrettable that his relationships with the demons who had given their lives for him then had soured, but things were better now.

“...”

“...”

He felt an intense gaze. Drakson Doldorf, the tower's master, was watching him.

Berge met his stare without backing down. Drakson was the first to look away.

“Back so soon? Feeling lopsided and want me to burst your other eye, too?”

He growled at Roselle Charnt, the expedition's leader.

Then, without any signal, the demonic creatures roared. The demons tightened their grips on their weapons and charged.

'He hasn't noticed.'

Certain of that, Berge surveyed the battlefield.

'Four high-ranking demons. Eleven mid-ranking demons. Fifty-two low-ranking demons.'

And roughly a thousand demonic creatures.

It was no insignificant force. But the same was true of this side.

Ralph Schmitz was the first to charge at the Demon King. Demonic creatures barred his way, but the knights following him divided their attention.

The mages began providing support.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Brilliant flashes scattered through the air. Demonic creatures screamed. A demon tore apart the knights' firmly established shield wall.

A demonic creature blocking Ralph's path fell to his sword.

And the Demon King finally hauled himself off his throne.

It all happened in an instant.

Mana and demonic energy collided violently in the melee. The mingled scent of different races' blood stung Berge's nose.

He quietly watched it unfold. Hillen remained beside him.

“I'm glad I came along. If I hadn't come in person, I'd have been beating the ground in regret.”

“What do you mea—”

Before Hillen could finish...

KABOOM!

A thunderous crash rang out. A bulky shape flew past, narrowly missing them.

“Goddammit...!”

Roselle Charnt rose from a partially gouged-out crater, coughing up blood.

“What a shame.”

Drakson licked his claws.

“Just a little higher, and that would have done it.”

A long gash slashed across Roselle Charnt's cheek.