Chapter 8 - A Hundred-Year Contract

Even with conditions somewhat more stable, Hortonwork remained on the front line facing the forbidden lands. Monsters surged in and battles broke out almost daily.

Naturally, most slaves brought to Hortonwork were rough sorts with considerable fighting ability, suited to the work required of them.

Perhaps that explained why the elf was somewhat muscular. No, extremely muscular.

"What brings you here?"

A merchant who had been scribbling on documents at a desk on one side of the chamber spotted them and approached. After exchanging a few words with their guide, he smiled and rubbed his palms together.

"Haha, looking for a good slave, are you? You've come to the right place. Would you like to look around first?"

"No need."

Berge strode over to the cage holding the elf. He liked the fellow even better up close.

"An elf! So you're interested in elves!"

The merchant gave a greedy smile. Elves were expensive. Since the war with the nonhuman races had ended and their enslavement had officially been outlawed, prices had risen even further.

"Thorough, aren't you?"

"Ah, elves are so capable that they can break ordinary shackles and escape. This much is standard."

"I like the look in his eyes."

His gaze had remained fixed on the elf. Green hair that must once have been lustrous was dirty and matted from prolonged neglect. Even so, Berge liked those deep-green eyes, like those of an enraged beast. He liked that the elf had not lost his fighting spirit even with all four limbs bound in chains.

All the more because he could feel his rage toward humans.

The only drawback was the gag that kept him from speaking.

"I want to speak with him."

"He's a vicious one. Removing his gag might cause trouble..."

"And if I don't mind?"

"Even so..."

"If the elf dies or anything goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility and buy him anyway."

"Ah, well, if you're willing to do that..."

"How much?"

"As you know, elves are rather expensive. Four gold coins—no, five."

Berge took out the gold coins and flicked them over with his fingers. The merchant caught the gleaming gold and happily opened the cage door.

"Enjoy your conversation, then!"

"You leave too."

"I'll wait outside."

Bark and the merchant left. Berge stepped into the cage and stirred his demonic energy.

"Mmph...!"

The elf's eyes widened. Even with his mana restricted by the restraints, elves were the most sensitive to energy of all the humanoid races. Naturally, he could not fail to recognize demonic energy.

Berge removed the gag. The elf's open mouth would not close.

"You won't be able to bite your tongue. Or move, for that matter. So give up and listen quietly."

He had no choice.

"I just paid a fair price to purchase you. Therefore, you're my slave."

The elf's eyes grew bloodshot. His trembling mouth looked ready to unleash a torrent of curses.

Not that he could.

"Humans enslaved you and subjected you to cruel humiliation. I imagine your anger runs deep."

"I'll give you a chance."

"Will you end your life as a slave in this cold cage?"

"Or will you take my hand and seek revenge? I'll help you tear apart the bastards who did this to you and bring humanity down."

"Well?"

There was no answer. But anyone could see the turmoil in his wavering eyes.

"If you won't bite your tongue, I'll release the spell. Nod if you agree."

The elf nodded. When Berge withdrew his demonic energy, he gasped for breath.

"A demon... Why would a demon come to me?"

"All you need to do is answer."

"A demon's offer always comes at a terrible price."

"I'm different. All you need to do is work for me. Fifty years. Serve me faithfully for just fifty years, and I'll give you your freedom afterward. What do you say?"

Fifty years wasn't particularly long for an elf. Berge thought it was a decent offer.

"You expect me to believe a demon who lies as easily as he breathes?"

"You don't seem particularly opposed to the offer itself."

"It's been five years since humans captured and enslaved me. More times than I can count, the humiliation made me wish I were dead."

The murderous resentment he had brooded over for years had piled up beyond the point of no return.

"If I could tear the bastards who did this to me apart with my own hands, why wouldn't I sell my soul even to a devil?"

The elf growled with rage. The thick bloodlust pouring out of him was sharp enough to make Berge's skin prickle.

"But you can't trust me because I'm a demon?"

"We elves have a saying. Better to befriend a dwarf than trust a demon."

"We have a saying too. Of the nonhuman races of the Middle Realm, humans are the least trustworthy, but elves are the biggest blockheads."

Elves were known to hate demons more than any other race. That was true to an extent, but it wasn't out of some sacred obligation to protect the world.

It was because the World Tree they worshipped sustained the world. And demons sought to destroy the world it sustained.

"While you're working under me, I won't touch the World Tree."

"I believe I told you I couldn't trust your word in the first place. Why would a demon turn to an elf for help, anyway?"

That hit a sore spot.

"I swear on the Guide and His Majesty the great Demon Emperor that I will never break the promises I've made."

"...!"

To every demon, the Guide and the Demon Emperor were as precious as life itself. It was nothing more than faith, but the ignorant demons upheld it as though their lives depended on it.

Their devotion was so extreme that even the beings of Arain knew of their love for the Guide and the Demon Emperor.

"In return, swear to the World Tree that you will serve me faithfully."

This was why Berge intended to make an elf, rather than a human, the most crucial component of his plan. With humans, he had no means of enforcing obedience or ensuring trust. With elves, there was a clear answer.

An oath to their parent tree, the World Tree.

It wasn't merely a matter of faithfully practicing one's beliefs. It was a direct binding tied to mana. If an elf broke an oath, the World Tree withdrew the forest's blessing.

And for an elf, losing that blessing was agony worse than death.

That was why Berge could trust him.

"Well?"

"... A demon through and through," the elf muttered. "You make an offer I can't refuse."

Berge held out his hand. The elf took it.

"Your name."

"Granada of the Maple Tribe. I'll swear the oath before the Demon King who sent you, once I meet him in person."

"Then you can do it now. Because I'm that Demon King."

"...?"

* * *

The merchant gleefully pocketed the gold coins. Beside him, the guide and Bark swallowed nervously.

'Hehehe, what an incredible sucker.'

The official ban on elf slaves had made them even rarer. Naturally, elves were expensive.

But prices varied greatly between individuals. Females cost more than males, and young elves more than old ones.

That wasn't the problem with this elf, though. He was vicious. Nobody wanted an elf who still cursed humans and refused to lose his fighting spirit after five years. Worse, he tried to kill himself by biting his tongue at every opportunity, so they had been forced to gag him.

Had he at least been a beautiful woman, someone might have tolerated all that and bought him for other purposes. But even that was out of the question. The merchant had only kept him because throwing him away would waste the money already spent. As merchandise, he was utterly worthless.

Yet someone had paid five gold coins for him. The merchant had never imagined anyone would accept the price he had blurted out on an irritated whim.

"Bark, did you say you brought that man here?"

"That's right."

"Is he some successful merchant? Or does he belong to a major mercenary company?"

As far as the merchant could see, there were only two reasons to come all the way to Hortonwork to buy an elf: to find one suited to some wealthy patron's tastes, or to use him as a fighter.

"I was hired for a job, that's all. I can't disclose my client's identity."

"Come now, we've known each other for ages. Must you be so stiff?"

"..."

"Tsk. Well, fine. Whatever the case, I've sold off that burden. Unfortunately, though, he probably won't get to keep the elf. He'll likely bite his tongue the moment that gag comes off."

"You knew that and did it anyway?"

"He's the one who said he didn't mind. And I've been paid in advance."

The merchant shrugged nonchalantly. What a relief. The elf who had tormented him was dead, and he'd made money too.

"If he ever needs another slave, make sure you contact me. I'll see you're well reward—"

Just then, the closed door opened. The sucker walked slowly out. Rubbing his palms together, the merchant approached him.

"You're back! Did your conversation go... well...?"

His eyes shifted behind the sucker. There he was. The elf who should have bitten his tongue and collapsed on the cold floor of his cage was calmly following him.

"Eyes down, you pig. Before I tear you apart."

Judging by that growl, his temper hadn't softened either.

"S-so it went well. I'll apply the brand for you."

With superhuman self-control, the merchant continued the conversation as casually as he could.

"No need."

"Pardon? But without a slave brand..."

There would be trouble.

A slave brand wasn't merely a mark identifying a slave. It was a magic circle that prevented the slave from harming the caster, designed to inflict pain when a command was recited.

"If there's trouble, I'll deal with it."

"Yes, understood."

"Let's go."

"Yes!"

Bark hurried after him. Once they reached the surface, all eyes turned toward them. Everyone was astonished that someone had bought the elf.

'How did he tame that elf?'

Bark knew about the elf too. During an earlier escape attempt, he had been hired alongside other mercenaries to subdue him.

Too fierce to tame, he was a prize no one could claim. He was famous among the slave merchants. They had said he would never sell, and the only way he would leave that cage was as a corpse...

"Your job ends here."

"Ah, yes."

Berge flicked his fingers lightly. A silver coin landed neatly in Bark's hand.

"A tip. I'm more pleased than I expected."

"Thank you!"

"How long do you plan to stay in this city?"

"Indefinitely, unless something serious happens."

"Good. I'll look you up again."

"Yes! Just ask for Bark or the Red Hawk Mercenary Company at the Mercenaries' Guild anytime!"

Bark sincerely hoped that generous client would seek him out again.

* * *

The first thing the Demon King did was buy him a meal.

After surviving on the bare minimum of food, the elf feasted for the first time in ages and patted his belly contentedly.

"Is your tower really at the summit of Erjest?"

"You're a suspicious one."

"Count yourself lucky I didn't punch you when you called yourself a Demon King."

As far as the elf was concerned, a Demon King personally visiting a slave market to buy a slave was unthinkable.

He had only agreed to come along because the other man had confidently promised to prove his identity by showing him the tower.

He had even sworn on the Guide.

"You'd better keep your promise too. If I really am a Demon King, you agreed to pledge twice fifty years to me."

"Elves always keep their word. Unlike demons."

'He's getting on my nerves.'

He had some nerve, constantly snapping like that. Should Berge start by giving him a few good punches?

The Demon King considered it briefly, then shook his head. Once they reached the tower, the elf would become a dog with its tail between its legs anyway. Waiting for that moment had its own pleasures.

Meanwhile, the elf thought the demon before him was quite unusual.

'A demon considering employing another race...'

Demons ordinarily trusted no one but their own kind. Naturally so. They were invaders, and every race in Arain had suffered their invasion. With such irreconcilable enemies, a lack of trust was inevitable.

"But this isn't the way to the mountain..."

The Demon King who had introduced himself as Berge, the man who would be his master for the next fifty years, was not heading toward Erjest.

"The market. There's nothing to eat in the tower."

"...?"

'... The market?'

It was a sort of intuition. An inexplicable sense of foreboding sent a chill down his spine.

The man called himself a Demon King. Even if that was a lie, he was undoubtedly a demon.

And in over a hundred years of life as an elf, Granada had never heard of a demon going grocery shopping. Why would demons, who stayed shut away in their towers, ever visit a human market?

"... Are you really a Demon King?"

"You're far too suspicious."

"How could I not be!"

Despite his suspicious gaze, the Demon King bought more than ten bundles of ingredients. Only after cramming them all into his storage dimension did he smile in satisfaction.

"Right. Now let's go."

They slipped past the sentries' eyes and leaped over the city wall.

"Erjest is crawling with monsters. How are we going to climb it?"

He voiced the question that had been on his mind all along.

"Like a Demon King."

The answer was brief. Its meaning soon became clear.

'The monsters aren't attacking.'

Far from charging when they saw the pair, they avoided them instead. What could that mean?

'Could the entire mountain already be the Demon King's territory?'

He swallowed nervously. Perhaps the man really was a Demon King. No, it was more than that. There were countless monsters in Erjest. If all of them were under the Demon King's control...

'An enormous catastrophe.'

Perhaps he was the strongest Demon King ever to descend upon Arain.

"Here we are. This is my tower."

Even when they arrived at the tower in its well-hidden basin, even when he saw it was only five stories tall, the elf still thought so. The shock of believing the entire mountain was his territory had yet to fade.

But after they opened the first-floor door, passed through the second floor, and reached the third...

"... Good heavens."

He was horrified for an entirely different reason. He understood why the Demon King had personally visited a human slave market to buy him, and why he had bought ingredients.

"There's nothing here!"

The much-talked-about Demon King's tower really contained nothing.

"I like simplicity. They call it the beauty of empty space."

"Any simpler and the tower itself would vanish."

"Still, I have a slave who will serve me faithfully for a hundred years. Isn't that enough?"

The elf shuddered at his sly smile. His identity as a Demon King had already been proven. Empty though it was, the tower had welcomed its master, and that was proof enough.

Now it was Granada's turn to keep his promise.

But...

"Fraud! This is fraud!"

He couldn't accept it.

People had a basic idea of what a Demon King's tower should be like.

The first floor had weak demonic creatures and traps. Higher up were stronger creatures, then demons waiting to greet you. At the top, the Demon King sat on a golden throne, solemnly welcoming the hero.

And at the end, the hero rescued an imprisoned prince or princess.

The details might differ depending on the tower or Demon King, but the broad outline never changed.

That was what Granada had hoped for too. Though he was a slave, he had been fairly successful in elven society. He had expected to become an officer in the Demon King's army and take revenge on humans.

Not a future with no one and nothing, his hopes and dreams trampled.

At that moment—

BAM!

A thick hand clamped around Granada's throat.

"Ghk...!"

His face reddened beneath the irresistible force. He thrashed as his breath caught in his throat.

He summoned his mana.

"That's the end of my leniency."

But demonic energy tore sharply through his body, cutting off his mana.

Icy bloodlust. The elf felt with his entire body that the being before him was a Demon King.

"Keep your promise, elf."

"I-it's fraud! You never told me your tower was like this!"

"I never said it wasn't."

"I knew I should never have trusted a demon's word!"

"No matter how soon you regret something, it's always too late."

Yes, it was already too late. Granada had entered the Demon King's territory completely, and he couldn't leave on his own. His life or a hundred-year slave contract. The better choice was obvious. Besides, perhaps he really would succeed in taking revenge.

The shock of the tower had been immense, but the impression left by the climb up the snowy mountain remained just as powerful.

"... I will serve you."

He swore in the name of the great World Tree. The mana in his heart formed a binding. If he broke the oath, that binding would shatter, and every blessing bestowed upon him would disappear.

"Good."

The Demon King smiled with satisfaction. Then he tossed him one of the bundles of ingredients purchased in town.

"Then start by making me something to eat."

"...?"

For a moment, the elf failed to grasp the situation. Then he grew furious.

"I am a noble elf! I was quite successful in Elven—!"

"But now you're just an insolent slave."

"Don't tell me you bought me just to cook for you?"

"That wasn't the reason, but..."

The Demon King propped his chin on his hand.

"For now, I'd like you to shut up and do it."

This absolutely wasn't payback for all the elf's sniping on the climb up the mountain.

It was simply because there wasn't a single living being in the tower who knew how to cook a proper meal.

Or so the Demon King told himself.