Chapter 9 - Hero

“Goddamn, fucking...!”

Complaints poured ceaselessly from his mouth, but the elf’s hands were busy preparing the ingredients. He washed them, chopped the vegetables, and minced the meat. Then, suddenly, he stopped cutting.

“Hah...”

A sigh escaped him. Cooking was bad enough, but having to build a campfire on the bare third-floor floor because there were no proper facilities made it all the more pathetic.

‘How did I end up like this...?’

The Demon King had sworn on the Guide. That was why he had believed him. And the Demon King had not actually betrayed his trust. At least everything he had said was true. He had merely left out the more important details.

“Son of a bitch.”

Did he have any idea who he was dealing with? Even back in Elven, no one could treat Granada this way.

What infuriated him even more was the thought that this might still be better than his five years as a slave.

‘They say there’s an ogre’s den waiting when you escape the goblins’ den.’

Shaking his head vigorously, Granada returned his attention to cooking. He heated an iron pan and coated it with oil. He added the minced meat, waited for the fat to melt, then stir-fried it with the vegetables and added spices. The delicious aroma drifted gently throughout the tower.

“Wow.”

Just then, someone descended the stairs from the floor above.

“That smells delicious!”

‘A human?’

She was a pretty human who looked about twenty. He briefly wondered why a human was in the Demon King’s tower, then dismissed the question.

‘Obviously, she must be in the same boat as me.’

She must have been tricked by the Demon King into becoming a slave in his tower.

“What are you making?”

She approached him.

“A simple meat stir-fry.”

“It smells lovely.”

“Of course it does. Look who made it.”

Granada gave a smug huff and shrugged.

“I haven’t seen you before. How did you come here?”

“Much the same way you did.”

“Were you kidnapped, then?”

“Kidnapped? You’re not a slave?”

Their eyes met.

‘... Haven’t I seen her somewhere?’

Her snow-white skin, platinum hair, and the softly gleaming purple eyes between those locks stirred something in his memory.

‘Where? Where have I seen her?’

At that moment, something peeked out from behind the woman. A mass of pure mana—a spirit.

Platinum hair, purple eyes. And a spirit.

The pieces fit together like a puzzle.

“... The Crown Princess of Hilderan?”

“You know me?”

“... Holy shit!”

“Keep it down.”

The Demon King came downstairs just then. Granada sprang to his feet and rushed over.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“From where I stand, you’re the one who’s lost his mind.”

“You kidnapped Hilderan’s Crown Princess! What the hell is going on?”

“Oh, that.”

“What do you mean, ‘that’? Hilderan must be in an uproar! We have nothing here. How do you intend to stop a hero if one comes?”

“I’ll handle it. Finish cooking.”

“How can you be so calm right now...?”

“That is an order.”

“...”

Looking utterly miserable, Granada went back to stir-frying the meat.

Then he noticed something strange that he had missed while fixating on that one issue.

‘... Wait, why did the Crown Princess come down from the fourth floor instead of a prison?’

Why was she sitting there so calmly beside the Demon King, fork in hand?

“What is it?”

The Crown Princess smiled when their eyes met. No matter how he looked at her, she did not seem like someone who had been kidnapped.

He turned a questioning, imploring gaze on the Demon King.

“It hardly matters. She cannot escape the tower.”

“I don’t think that’s the issue.”

“She’s been cooperative, so I’ve given her a little freedom.”

“But even if you give her freedom, this...”

The fundamental problem lay not with the Demon King but with the Crown Princess. However accustomed people had become to Demon Kings, and however often kidnapped princesses were ransomed or rescued by heroes, this was still a Demon King and a princess. A kidnapper and his victim.

Not just anyone could look so relaxed, as though she were in her own home.

A little later, the food was ready, and Gordon the dark elf joined them.

“That was absolutely delicious.”

The Crown Princess rubbed her full belly as she scraped her plate clean. Her sunny demeanor made Granada wonder whether this was actually Hilderan’s royal palace rather than a Demon King’s tower.

“Now, let’s get down to business.”

At a glance from the Demon King, Gordon took the Crown Princess upstairs.

“As you’ve heard, that woman is Hilderan’s Crown Princess. How do you think Hilderan will respond?”

“They’ll be in an uproar, of course.”

Granada had heard a rumor before becoming a slave. Hilderan’s first princess was so gifted that she had successfully contracted with spirits at a young age, and the entire kingdom adored her extraordinary talent.

With such a Crown Princess kidnapped, they were bound to go berserk, foaming at the mouth.

“By now, they’re probably commissioning the Heroes’ Guild and assembling a large force of heroes. Erjest is a natural fortress that will keep the riffraff out, but Hilderan’s determination won’t end there.”

That much was obvious.

“I trust you aren’t asking me to commit suicide by facing the heroes alone,” Granada said bluntly.

“I never intended that. If a hero is strong enough to enter this tower, the game is already over.”

“Then?”

“I’m sending you back to Hortonwork.”

The explanation that followed made sense to Granada.

“So you want me to sow chaos in the human world on your behalf, my lord.”

“In short, yes.”

“Join an organization and gain power, buy information to track the heroes’ movements, and, if possible, interfere so that they fail or are delayed as much as possible?”

“Correct. But before that...”

The Demon King rose.

“I need to see what you can do.”

* * *

The third floor.

Granada stood facing the Demon King on a floor devoid of anything or anyone else.

Berge had gone to the trouble of bringing Granada to the tower for two reasons. One was to prove he was a Demon King and earn his trust. The other was to assess his abilities accurately.

He had only ordered him to cook because he was too insolent. That had never been the main purpose.

“You must have spent a long time as a slave, but your body is in surprisingly good condition.”

“At the very least, this isn’t a body meant for cooking.”

“It tasted good, though. You have a talent for it.”

“...”

Granada made an effort to change the subject.

“But isn’t this a fight I can’t possibly win?”

Even if he had been caught by surprise, he had already been taught a lesson once. There was a clear gap between their abilities.

“I won’t use one hand. How about that?”

“Not enough.”

“Let’s set some terms. If you win, I won’t insist that you speak respectfully to me. And I’ll treat you well, as a subordinate rather than a slave.”

“... You won’t make me cook, either?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“I’ll do my best to knock your head clean—off, my lord!”

The elf and the Demon King clashed.

A little later.

“... I could have sworn I heard that newly summoned Demon Kings are particularly affected by dimensional interference.”

“Do you think demons don’t know what you know?”

Why else would they establish the Demon King Military Academy and send only the most carefully selected talents? They chose those who would not fall easily even under the worst circumstances, those who could retain a minimum level of fighting strength despite being weakened by dimensional interference.

That was a Demon King: the vanguard commander of the Demon Realm.

“I have a rough idea now.”

The Demon King calmly helped the fallen Granada to his feet.

“Now, let’s head down.”

* * *

“It’s an honor to see you again!”

Bark brightened at the two familiar faces asking for him. They were the wealthy man whose name he did not know, who spent money like water, and the elf slave he had purchased.

‘Was that what his face looked like before, though?’

Strangely, his memory was hazy, but he dismissed it as a consequence of drinking.

“I want to buy your time.”

The wealthy man spoke without preamble.

“Your entire mercenary company. A year should do to start.”

“Uh... What exactly would you have us do for that year?”

“For now, live as you do now and take monster-subjugation jobs. I promise I won’t give you commissions beyond your company’s capabilities.”

Bark considered the offer. Judging by the man’s spending habits, he would clearly shower them with rewards, but nothing in this world was free. Even with such confident assurances, who could guarantee the work would not be dangerous?

“I don’t think I can decide this on my own.”

Bark was the company’s captain, but the Red Hawks had a relatively egalitarian structure.

“Discuss it. I’ll meet your price as far as possible.”

The twenty Red Hawk mercenaries began deliberating.

“It’s too suspicious.”

“But the money is real. We wouldn’t be mercenaries if we turned down a fortune.”

“How do you know what he’ll make us do?”

“He said he wouldn’t ask the impossible, didn’t he? Put it in the contract so we can refuse if we think it’s too much.”

“You believe him?”

Just then, the wealthy man placed a heavy pouch on the table. The mercenaries’ jaws dropped at the gold and silver coins spilling out.

They exchanged looks and nodded.

“All right.”

It was too much money to refuse.

“But we have conditions. Please specify in the contract that we can refuse requests we consider unreasonable. Naturally, we’ll be as objective as possible, based on our mercenary ranks. And...”

“Agreed.”

Bark listed several requirements, and the wealthy man accepted them all.

“In return, I have a condition of my own.”

“What would that be...?”

“Accept the elf Granada into your company.”

“... Pardon?”

“It can be in name only. Granada will give you orders on my behalf.”

* * *

Humans had social classes. They also had countless organizations: mage towers, the Heroes’ Guild, the Mercenaries’ Guild, the Free Knights, the Artisans’ Union, the Black Moon, and so on.

Some had ties to nations; others did not. But they shared one advantage: any organization that attracted people inevitably gained power, allowing someone who was not a king to wield a king’s authority.

I envisioned placing my subordinate in one of them and taking it over from within. One by one, they would fall into my hands, until I became the true mastermind controlling everything.

My first choice was the Mercenaries’ Guild.

Its members might be lacking in quality, but in numbers they rivaled any organization. It was a remarkably inclusive group, accepting anyone with the least prejudice, and a guild powerful enough that even kingdoms could not readily ignore it.

Above all, it was a gathering of money-crazed bastards who lived for money.

Having just made the acquaintance of a suitable mercenary and his company was another convenient reason.

“... All right.”

After a lengthy whispered discussion, Bark nodded.

“We don’t readily accept new mercenaries, but if we think of him as the client, it’s doable.”

He approached Granada.

“I look forward to working with you.”

“As do I.”

He was somewhat reluctant to bow to someone who had been a slave until recently, but in the end, money called the shots.

“First, to join our company, you’ll need to take the mercenary examination...”

Bark tilted his head.

“Did someone beat you up?”

Why was his eye so bruised and swollen?

Granada did not answer.

That day, Granada formally took the Mercenaries’ Guild examination, received a senior mercenary badge, and joined the Red Hawk Mercenary Company.

The oddly enraged elf leaving a bruise around the eye of every mercenary who tested him was merely a minor incident.

Then, at the celebration welcoming Granada, the mercenaries received their first commission from Berge.

“Here is your first commission. You’ll have heard that Hilderan’s Crown Princess was recently kidnapped. I want to know which heroes Hilderan has commissioned.”

“Why would you...?”

“Because there’s money in it.”

“Ah.”

A hero’s journey attracted considerable attention and money. Those who provided financial support could receive loot from the tower if the hero slew the Demon King.

It was an entirely convincing reason to the mercenaries, who believed Berge to be a wealthy man.

“But we’re a small mercenary company. For that, you ought to commission an information guild...”

THUMP

A money pouch landed.

“Do it.”

“We’ll get on it immediately!”

“While you’re at it, look into Hilderan’s princesses as well.”

“Why would you...?”

‘Because if things don’t work out, I’ll have to return the first princess and kidnap the thirteenth instead.’

He had spoken firmly in front of the Crown Princess, but leaving himself no way out was never wise. Still, he could not tell them the truth.

And having to think of another plausible excuse to persuade the humans irritated him.

“Do you want a reason, or do you want money?”

“We want money!”

Greed filled the mercenaries’ eyes.

Once again, Berge was convinced: at least in this world, money was no different from religion to humans.

* * *

Kultan, a knight, instructed the soldiers.

“Surround the hotel. Don’t let so much as a rat get out.”

He stationed dozens of soldiers around the building and went upstairs with two accompanying him.

“He is upstairs.”

The hotel owner, who had received an official request for cooperation in advance, personally guided him.

“What is he doing?”

“Enjoying drinks.”

“With a woman on either side again, I suppose.”

“...”

The corridors were empty, perhaps because the hotel staff had restricted access. The two reached the hotel’s top floor.

The door to a suite reserved exclusively for special VIPs opened. The heavy reek of alcohol and a wave of heat brushed his nose and cheeks.

CRUNCH

He stepped on shards of a broken bottle. The sodden carpet squelched underfoot.

Without a word, Kultan opened a window. Cold wind cooled the room.

“... What is it?”

“Oh my.”

The man, lulled by the heat, opened his eyes and spoke in a languid voice. The women sitting on either side of him shivered.

“It has been a while, hero.”

“Sir Kultan?”

“You women, wait outside.”

The women steadied their drunken bodies and left. His enjoyment spoiled, the man frowned.

“What brings you here?”

“A royal command has been issued.”

“... The Crown Princess.”

“The other heroes are frightened by the name Erjest. You alone can kill that insolent Demon King and rescue Her Highness the Crown Princess.”

“I’m afraid of Mount Erjest too.”

“How amusing. If not you, the hero who cut off the Demon King of Lust’s head, who would dare climb Mount Erjest and rescue Her Highness? You aren’t afraid. You simply find it bothersome.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Hero, the kingdom’s Crown Princess has been kidnapped. You know, don’t you? What Her Highness means to Hilderan.”

Kultan met the hero’s eyes.

“This is not a request. It is a royal command.”

Heroes enjoyed immense rights by default. At the same time, they had obligations.

Kings turned a blind eye to a certain amount of their misconduct and illegal activity, but when trouble arose, they compelled heroes to act, even issuing royal commands.

Heroes still had the right to refuse, but they alone had to bear the repercussions of making an enemy of an entire country.

“You may refuse if you wish. But you will no longer be able to operate in Hilderan. Surely even you would find it troublesome to go from the Hero of Hilderan to Hilderan’s greatest scumbag?”

RUSTLE

Kultan held out the king’s written command.

“Please take it.”

“Even so, I can’t do this alone.”

“You will be given authority over the assignment of every hero in Hilderan. The Hilderan branch of the Heroes’ Guild has also pledged its full cooperation.”

They probably had no choice either.

“The kingdom will spare no support, and your reward will exceed anything you imagine.”

“His Majesty is paying dearly.”

“That is how important Her Highness is to us. If you are thinking of running, you would do well to abandon the idea. The hotel is surrounded, and if a soldier carrying out official duties is injured, that will give us grounds to act.”

“You think you can actually stop me?”

“At the very least, you will not leave the kingdom unscathed. I am not all you face. And we are considering not merely physical injury, but your social ruin as well.”

“You’ve left me no way out.”

The hero smiled bitterly. Had he known this would happen, he should have left Hilderan sooner. Being on the outskirts of the kingdom had made him complacent, and that had been his mistake.

“I accept.”

He snatched the written command.

“Great hero, I beseech you to save Hilderan’s heir, the very foundation of our kingdom.”

The knight bowed his head.