Chapter 51 - Everyone Has Their Reasons (2)
15 min read ·
The Beast Demon King was dead.
The news began to spread once the Kingdom of Akan's elite troops had vanished completely from Ormus's capital.
“The hero Roselle Charnt, the Crimson Hellfire raiding party, Hillen Cargill, and the knights of Ormus joined forces to defeat the Demon King.”
That was the Kingdom of Ormus's official announcement. As agreed, they played up Roselle Charnt's role while concealing the presence of Akan's army.
But no one simply took them at their word.
“The knights of Ormus?”
“Weren't their elite troops already wiped out?”
The hero's journey, postponed after its first failure, had suddenly taken place in the dead of night with astonishing haste. It would have been strange not to find that suspicious.
“Ormus doesn't have the strength to defeat a Demon King.”
“And there weren't any army movements, either.”
Someone had intervened. Questions arose as to whether that someone was the Kingdom of Akan.
Naturally so. Roselle Charnt's ties to Akan had never been officially announced, but they were an open secret.
[The Kingdom of Akan has no connection whatsoever to the fall of the Beast's Tower.]
[The Kingdom of Ormus received no assistance from another country's forces. The fine artifacts supplied by the Kingdom of Berft made a significant contribution.]
But both kingdoms stated their positions in no uncertain terms, then consistently professed ignorance.
Questions remained, but people's curiosity began to turn elsewhere.
“Why did Berft give Ormus artifacts?”
“Those dwarfs are incredibly proud. They gave them away to some beggar kingdom out of humanitarian concern? Don't be ridiculous!”
“Some people say they saw Louise Berft in Ormus.”
“I hear she turned an entire city upside down.”
All eyes turned toward Berft. Meanwhile, the subject of those rumors was kneeling with her lips pressed tightly shut.
She was in the royal palace.
The dwarven palace stood deep underground. No sunlight entered it; instead, the gentle glow of magical bulbs brushed Louise's face.
A heavy sigh escaped, making Louise flinch. She raised her head anxiously.
“... I'm sorry.”
“... I intended to overlook anything within reason.”
The voice was bitter.
“I know what goes through your mind. I know about your feelings of inadequacy. I've told you over and over that I would never think of you that way, but you wouldn't listen.”
“...”
“I tried to give you everything you wanted. I hoped you would grow up cheerful and happy as a princess of this kingdom. But I was wrong.”
He should have been a little stricter with her instead.
The man clicked his tongue.
“Your childish impulses have cost us an enormous fortune, handed over to Ormus. Warriors of our kingdom have shed their blood for nothing.”
His tone was level, neither reproachful nor anything else.
“Are you satisfied now?”
“... Father.”
“Apologize to their families yourself. Take a portion of your own wealth and distribute it among them. Those people died because of you.”
“Yes.”
“And confine yourself to your quarters.”
“... Yes.”
There was so much she wanted to say.
That she still hadn't caught Logger Fridri, for one.
Or that none of this would have gone so far if that bastard from Ormus hadn't attacked.
But she offered no excuses. The king already knew those facts, and they wouldn't absolve her of her wrongdoing anyway.
Her obsession with Logger Fridri had indeed driven her too far. The mistake was clearly her own.
“You may go.”
“Yes.”
Louise left with her shoulders slumped.
At the sight, the king's hand twitched.
“No. Stay where you are.”
“... Don't you feel sorry for her? That delicate child must be suffering terribly. Let me go and offer just one kind word...”
“This was clearly Louise's fault. You must distinguish between public duty and personal feelings.”
“You heartless wretch. She's your sister.”
“Before she is my sister, she is an offender who inflicted grave harm on the kingdom. Isn't it precisely because Your Majesty behaves this way that Louise has become such an unruly brat?”
“Calling your own sister an offender and a brat! You rotten boy! Just look at those delicate arms and legs! She looks as though she might collapse at any moment. How could I not be kind to her?”
“Haah.”
The prince pressed a hand to his forehead. Of course, whenever he saw Louise, he wanted to sweep her into a hug too.
How could she possibly carry an axe with those delicate limbs?
But not this time.
“Your Majesty, dwarven warriors died pointlessly on foreign soil. Had Louise not been a princess, she would have been sentenced to death at once.”
“You want to execute your sister? You wicked boy! And you call yourself her older brother!”
“That's not what I mean!”
What a hopelessly doting fool.
The prince ground his teeth.
“In any case, do not approach Louise for the time being. Do not speak to her affectionately, either. We must use this opportunity to correct her behavior.”
“Are you the king now?”
“If you gave me the throne, I could certainly manage it.”
“Just find that bastard.”
“You mean Logger Fridri?”
“Isn't he the reason Louise ran away from the kingdom in the first place?”
The king growled. An overbearing fighting spirit poured from him. He might be a fool who doted on Louise, but he was still the greatest warrior among the dwarves.
“I'll catch him and drag him before Louise.”
“... Of course.”
The prince agreed with him on that score.
“I'll go myself.”
“You will?”
“I have a question for him. How could he run away from such a sweet, fragile child?”
“That's exactly what I'm saying!”
“If his answer isn't satisfactory, I'll hold him accountable.”
“That's the spirit!”
The king and prince cursed Logger Fridri.
“Achoo! Ugh, it's cold. Is the door open?”
Logger, who was remodeling the first floor of the Demon King's tower, put on a thick coat.
* * *
Hillen Cargill quietly closed his eyes and breathed.
The fall of the Beast's Tower had sent all sorts of rumors sweeping across the continent, but he remained somewhat removed from the center of attention.
Most of it had gone to Roselle Charnt and the Kingdom of Akan behind her.
Louise of Berft had played her part too, of course.
'This is dangerously unstable.'
When a demon or demonic creature was killed, its demonic energy was converted into dimensional power and absorbed by the hero.
That allowed heroes to grow stronger through means other than training alone.
Thus, heroes aspired to kill more demonic creatures, more demons, and more Demon Kings.
But wasn't too much just as bad as too little? Hillen was learning firsthand that an excess could also be a problem.
Two powers resided in his body.
One was in his mana heart, the other in his aura core.
He had acquired the former when he killed the Demon King of Lust. The latter had settled within him after he beheaded Drakson.
It was fortunate that he was a spellsword.
Just as every human's energy differed, so did every Demon King's. The two powers shared the same underlying nature yet differed from each other. Though they occupied separate places, he could not control them completely. They were like bombs that could explode at any moment.
'The Demon King of Lust's demonic energy is closer to mana. The Beast Demon King's, by contrast, is aura.'
It was a difference in disposition.
'If I can truly make these powers my own...'
Perhaps he could change the name of the greatest hero in history.
'I might even find a way to escape the Demon King's clutches.'
For now, he had no way to remove the restriction inside his head, but one might emerge if he reached a higher level.
“Whew.”
Hillen gathered his mana and aura back in and opened his eyes. As though waiting for that moment, someone knocked.
“Come in.”
The visitor had made no effort to hide her presence, so he wasn't surprised. Roselle Charnt entered.
She wore a scowl, evidently displeased about something.
“Hand it over.”
“Hand what over?”
Roselle Charnt tossed him a sheet of paper.
- Something has come up, so I'm leaving. I'll leave the promised payment with Hillen Cargill.
“... Payment? What do you mean?”
Suddenly, he remembered the bargain the two had struck to secure his place in the expedition.
'Mana.'
And peculiar mana at that—utterly pure, resembling a spirit's. Berge had drawn out all he could and given it to Roselle Charnt, promising to do so once more after the hero's journey.
'But I...'
He hadn't received anything.
Hillen realized what had happened.
That goddamn Demon King hadn't wanted to pay, so he had dumped everything on Hillen and simply run off.
“There seems to be some misunderstanding...”
“Hand it over.”
“... I haven't received anything.”
“Don't test my patience.”
Roselle smiled. Goose bumps rose on Hillen's skin.
“... I really haven't received anything.”
“Then did I secretly write this letter myself? And kidnap that bastard Pale just to torment you?”
“That's not what I'm saying.”
“There's only one thing you need to say to me: ‘I'll give it to you.’ And there's only one thing you need to do: hand me the storage orb filled with mana.”
Hillen gulped, swallowing hard as a sense of foreboding surged within him.
“I've been so busy cleaning up the aftermath these past few days that I couldn't pay attention to it. Yes, that's right. I forgot for a while. In fact, I've barely managed to make time even now. I have a Guild meeting to attend soon.”
While she was organizing her papers for the meeting, a maid had rushed over with news.
“She told me Pale had disappeared.”
Only then had she remembered what she was owed.
Mana. Fire mana of unparalleled purity.
“But his room was empty.”
There had been no lingering warmth, no possessions, no payment awaiting her. Nothing.
Only a single note remained.
“You know what? That note saved this mansion.”
She had barely contained her explosive anger.
She was furious that the talented man she had intended to recruit into Crimson Hellfire had vanished, but she decided to collect what she was owed first and think about that later.
“And now you're saying you know nothing?”
That he hadn't received anything?
“You see, I hate people who deceive me most of all. But I hate people who take what's mine even more.”
RATTLE RATTLE
Roselle did nothing. Yet the mana reacting to her emotions made the objects in the mansion begin to shake.
“Please calm down first. I'll try contacting Pale...”
“Calm down? You don't get to just say that. Wouldn't it be more convincing to bring me what I'm owed before you run your mouth?”
Hillen hastily pulled out his crystal ball and frantically poured mana into it.
'Answer, answer, answer! Please answer!'
Five minutes passed like that.
“...”
“Die!”
That day, half the mansion housing the Crimson Hellfire raiding party burned down.
And the Crimson Hellfire raiding party gained a public enemy named Pale.
* * *
“... Drakson is dead?”
The man, who had been sleeping soundly late that night, gave a disbelieving laugh.
Impossible.
“... How?”
He had already set everything in place. This world abounded with people who wanted Demon Kings dead, but there were also many who wanted a Demon King who could be reasoned with, within limits, to live on indefinitely.
He belonged to the latter group.
Demon Kings were useful necessary evils.
They made governing easier and provided someone to blame without hesitation whenever problems arose.
“The Heroes' Guild did not act.”
“Of course it didn't.”
Not after all the money those bastards had gobbled up.
“According to Ormus's official announcement, they joined the Crimson Hellfire raiding party in an all-out effort to defeat the Demon King.”
“Nonsense.”
They had failed even at full strength, yet supposedly succeeded after losing two thousand elite troops? That was bullshit even a stray mutt wouldn't believe.
“Who was it?”
“I believe it may have been the Kingdom of Akan.”
“Any traces?”
“None. Which makes Akan all the more likely.”
Only Akan, known as the kingdom of magic, or the Jespine Empire could deploy a force capable of defeating a Demon King overnight and then make it vanish without a trace.
“Your reason?”
“Roselle Charnt is at the forefront.”
“Akan, then.”
The man clicked his tongue.
“What about the Heroes' Guild?”
“They have just contacted us.”
“Bring it here.”
The butler brought a communication orb. A face appeared when mana was channeled into it.
“Your exalted—”
He went straight to the point without even listening to the greeting.
“Report on the situation at the Heroes' Guild.”
“The elders and officers have been summoned.”
“What is the mood?”
“The prevailing opinion is that Akan is responsible.”
People really did all think alike.
“Those insolent bastards...”
“The problem is that we cannot impose any severe punishment.”
“In killing the Demon King, they simply fulfilled their duty as heroes.”
At most, there was only one charge they could bring against the heroes who had accompanied Roselle Charnt: disregarding the Guild's instructions to stand by and acting on their own initiative.
Even that would most likely be overlooked in light of their achievement in defeating the Demon King.
“And?”
“Pardon?”
“There's no problem. You can't punish them. Is that all?”
“...”
“So that's the extent of your abilities. I understand.”
“... I'll create grounds for punishment!”
“...”
“Disobeying the Guild's orders is a grave offense. Roselle Charnt has disrupted the Guild's grand plans and caused tremendous damage! Besides, she has committed more offenses than we can count!”
“I doubt the other elders will see it that way.”
“No. They certainly will. I'll make them see it that way!”
“My, I thought it was a minor matter. Are you saying her crimes are serious enough to warrant that?”
“Yes, they are.”
“Do the very best you can.”
“Of course.”
“I wish you luck.”
“Yes!”
The connection ended.
“Insolent bastards. Indulge them a little, and they take liberties without end.”
“The Guildmaster is not a man to be taken lightly.”
“He is still nothing more than the head of a single organization. Contact the Lake. I must find out what they're thinking.”
The smile that had curved the man's lips disappeared.
* * *
It had been a long trip, but not a pointless one.
Drakson was dead, and his tower had collapsed.
No evidence remained that Berge had ever been there.
'I'd like to see Grand Duke Alkain's face.'
What expression would he make when he heard the news?
Preferably one twisted with rage. Berge wasn't the sort to take things lying down.
His foot crunched into the snow halfway up Mount Erjest, where snow fell all year round.
'I'm still weak as I am now.'
The battle with Drakson had brought many things home to him.
His past self and his present self were different. The heroes could kill him at any time.
That realization made him uneasy, like something caught in his throat.
In this life, he had meant to focus on becoming the hidden force manipulating humans. But what if some hero appeared out of nowhere and cut off his head?
Everything he had accomplished would become meaningless.
'What matters most is my own strength.'
He had been so busy painting the big picture that he had overlooked the essentials.
'For now, I have no choice but to pay off my debt, so I'll have to search Erjest for elixirs again.'
Alternatively, kidnapping another princess wouldn't be a bad idea.
The more widely resentment and curses against him spread, the more demonic energy points he could gather.
'I'll think it over once I'm inside the tower...'
Berge stopped walking and turned his head.
Pure white snow. The faint, eerie howling of a monster far away. There was nothing to be seen.
Nothing to be seen, at least.
TAP
Berge concealed his presence. At the same moment, the other's presence vanished as well.
'Well, look at that.'
His opponent was a master of stealth, erasing all sense of presence by blending completely into nature. Just like Berge.
'Evading my senses?'
Even if this was near the foot of the mountain, the tower wasn't very far away.
Berge's hair turned red.
Then the wait began. One hour, two hours. Two hours became half a day, and half a day became a full day.
RUSTLE
A man emerged from beneath the snow.
'He must be gone, right?'
He could sense no particular presence nearby. Nor did he feel the instinctive revulsion demons provoked.
'At least a high-ranking demon. I'm certain.'
Black hair, black eyes, and powerful demonic energy. That had been no middling demon.
Even though he had been observing from several kilometers away, their eyes had met. Words couldn't describe the chill he had felt at that moment.
'At least I've confirmed this is a route those demons use.'
'Maybe I'll finish the commission sooner than I expected.'
He stretched and brushed the snow off his clothes.
At that instant, the revulsion he hadn't felt until now surged to an unbearable extreme.
“A hero, then.”
“... When did you get here?”
“Am I obliged to answer just because you ask when?”
Instead of an answer, black flames swept toward him. The man hastily rolled aside.
He drew his empty bowstring. An arrow of mana formed in midair and shot forth in a graceful arc.
Five shots in rapid succession. The demon faltered.
“A pathetic trick.”
The arrows were deflected. The man thrust a dagger toward the flames that surged through the gaps between them.
A long extension of aura split the fire. Then a smoke bomb burst.
The specially treated, murky smoke obstructed the Demon King's vision for the briefest moment. In that interval, the man disappeared.
“...”
Berge made no effort to pursue the rapidly retreating presence.
He couldn't catch him.
That man was a flying squirrel, the fleetest-footed of all the heroes.
This was the first time Berge had seen him in person, across both his previous life and this one. But heroes with stealth to rival a Demon King's and speed surpassing one could hardly be common.
“The hero, Dafner Philiain.”
The man commonly known as the heroes' source of information.
“Someone must be very curious about the location of my tower.”
Indeed, it would have been strange if no one had begun moving to check him by now.
'Jespine or Hilderan?'
One of the two kidnapped princesses' countries was the most likely candidate.