Chapter 228: Sis, There's Something Wrong With My Dick (1)
"To explain the Demon King's fragments, I have to first explain what I did 300 years ago. How much do you know?"
"If it's storybooks, I'm quite familiar."
Three hundred years ago, it was said that the Demon King was defeated by a group of four heroes.
The nameless hero.
The beautiful red sage, Len.
Frederic Endymion, the genius from the prestigious alchemy family, Endymion.
And Sir Demitri von Meyer, founder of the Magic Knights, who joined under royal command.
While the four heroes held off the Demon King's army at the royal capital, they snuck around and attacked the Demon King's castle, ultimately defeating him.
Since then, Sir Meyer founded the Magic Knights and became a role model for future knights, with his statue still standing within the order.
The red sage Len, together with the guardian dragon Seyra, restructured the Magic Tower and declared magical independence to ensure the basic survival rights of mages in exchange for restricting their actions. Then he vanished.
Frederic Endymion, wounded from the final battle, continued his research at the Endymion Alchemy Workshop until he retired. Recently, one of his descendants, Frederica Endymion, has become active again... or so it is known.
"The person in front of me now is one of those four heroes."
"Right. One remains nameless, though."
The reason the hero's identity remains unknown is due to vague rumors, but the most accepted theory is simple.
"The king feared the hero might threaten his throne and planned an assassination, so the hero chose to die with the Demon King in the final battle. Is that right?"
"Yeah. You've got the gist."
Historically, heroes were more often betrayed and killed by the powerful after defeating the Demon King than killed in the actual battle.
Cases of mutual destruction during combat with the Demon King were rare. Most heroes went missing or died of mysterious illnesses while living in the kingdom. Historians, unable to accuse the royal family outright, quietly accepted this, though many believed the heroes were poisoned or secretly assassinated by the royal family.
So the theory is that the hero deliberately chose to die in battle with the Demon King to prevent the king from having a chance to eliminate him.
"Even though my second body was ruined during the battle with only the head remaining, I witnessed everything and discussed it with them. When he died, we extracted the Demon King's core. Normally, it would take around a hundred years to return, so we proposed a different method."
"A different method?"
"To dilute the Demon King."
"Dilute?"
"Do you know how the Demon King's inheritance works?"
"I heard the Demon King's bloodline inherits the core containing his power."
"Exactly. Like this."
Plop.
Frederica poured some of her drinking water into a flask on her desk and added the contents of a half-full ink bottle.
"Defeating and sealing the Demon King is like this."
Clink.
As she dropped the now darkened flask onto the floor, the ink-stained water spread across the surface. Unit 3 raised a hand, extracted the ink components, and returned them to the bottle, sealing it.
"That's the Demon King's core. Sealing it means isolating it like this so it can't influence anything. But during our discussions, we changed our approach."
"To what?"
"What if we poured that ink into a stream?"
"The water would get polluted."
"And then?"
"The ink would spread through the water until it becomes clear again. If that water flows to the sea..."
The logic became clear.
"It'd be impossible to revive him."
How would anyone retrieve the ink dispersed into the sea?
Even if you tried to scoop it up, you'd only get a tiny fraction.
"Exactly."
If the Demon King's core were split into four, you'd only need to gather the four pieces. But if it's cut into 3.16 million fragments and scattered—how would you ever collect them all?
"But wouldn't that mean the Demon King ends up spread all over the world?"
"The temple voiced that concern, but thanks to this method, not only has the Demon King not resurrected in 300 years, but the demons also haven't been acting up."
Before, the Demon King might've resurrected every hundred years or even less. But now, 300 years of peace have passed.
"And the demons don't seem interested in reviving him anymore."
"Then what about the fragments?"
"They're mostly meaningless. Occasionally, creatures appear with a piece inside them, but the fragments no longer contain malice—just raw mana. They're harmless."
"So Mollang is fine too?"
"With her strong will, unless the core is massively condensed, it won't affect her. It likely just manifests as a transformation ability."
In other words, Mollang can transform because she inherited some of the Demon King's abilities.
But beyond that transformation, there's no additional effect.
"Phew..."
"What? Were you worried?"
"Yes. I was wondering what to do if Mollang turned out to be the Demon King."
"Come on, there's no way a single slime is the real Demon King. We've had guests here with fragments too, but each has less than a millionth of a piece. It's no big deal. And over time, the fragments continue to split further. Eventually, they'll be untraceable."
That raised another question.
"Then... no more heroes either?"
"Right. No Demon King means no hero. The very idea of a hero exists because humans, driven to extremes by the Demon King, pray to the gods. The gods then grant one human divine power temporarily—to defeat the Demon King."
"So we won't see heroes anymore."
"Exactly. Whatever's going on now is probably just some crazy guy who wants to be a hero. The Fairy Sword was meant to break into the Demon King's castle—it's not something you actually use."
Now that everything was explained, all the worries about the Demon King reviving and a hero rising again were gone.
'Guess Mollang won't be a problem either, huh?'
She won't suddenly awaken as the Demon King... That kind of fear seemed unnecessary now.
A 1 in 3.16 million chance was like a single hair on a person.
"By the way, how much have you collected for my share of the profits? I need some quick cash."
With business booming, I figured my share should be enough to buy at least a house.
"We've just finished version 2 of the experiment. There's no profit to split yet. I was going to test it on a subject, and now that you're here, perfect."
"Is that safe?"
I still felt guilty about causing trouble last time.
"This time Erin will be present. If you go into heat and lose your mind again, she'll handle it."
True, last time I went wild until Erin smacked me down... If she's here, we should be okay.
"Screw it, let's do it. I'm not gonna die, right?"
"Ow!"
I was now in Delphine's lab, tied to a nailed-down chair with my arms restrained behind me.
"Be gentle, Erin."
"When restraining someone at knight level, you can't leave a gap under their armpits—they might use the recoil to break free. So tying them tight is standard."
"That's for wartime. This hurts... ahh!"
Erin bound me without mercy. Maybe she had personal feelings in this?
Squeeze.
Still, just in case, she prepared antifreeze and stayed on standby beside me. Only after ensuring every safety measure did Delphine approach with a bubbling liquid.
"That's not hot, right?"
"Still steaming a bit. Give it a moment... there, good."
She brought over a viscous, oil-like potion in a small flask no bigger than a finger. Using a dropper, she drew it up and held it to my face.
"Mouth open... slurp..."
Drip.
The potion wasn't even a full sip. It entered my mouth, tasteless and scentless, blending into my saliva.
Gulp.
I swallowed, and waited. Unlike last time, there wasn't any sudden lifting of restrictions in my mind. Just a weird mouthfeel made me smack my lips.
"Nothing feels different?"
"What should I feel?"
"It should gradually affect your dick."
Now that she mentioned it, I felt a slight sensation, kind of like when I drank dryad sap. But maybe that was just from being tied up and poor blood circulation.
"Feels... a bit weird, I guess..."
Maybe being tied like this brought out some hidden kink or something.
Ziiip.
Delphine unzipped me to check the results, measuring the size with her fingers. Just seeing her do that naturally made me respond.
"Let's see... looks about the same as last time. Wanna try transforming it?"
Boing.
"Not just getting hard. This potion's supposed to change it, remember?"
Even if she said that, I had no idea how to transform my dick. Mollang did it, but it's not like I could mimic her.
"Picture it in your head—like reshaping a Mana Saber blade."
With Frederica's advice, I imagined wrapping my lower sword in Mana Saber energy and focused power into my lower body.
Zzzzzmmm.
My dick flared with blue mana.
"...Uh, not that Mana Saber."
Vmmmm vmmm!
Flexing my groin, the glowing blue dick hovered upward, then forward. This was a sword master's skill—coating objects in mana without needing a saber.
Knights could channel mana through their bodies, but surrounding the skin with mana like this was an entirely different level.
This was the so-called Aura Blade, achievable only by sword masters.
'Wait, did I just ascend to a sword master... through my dick?'
Looking down at my glowing crotch, I couldn't help but scream.
"Aaaaahhh! What the hell is this!"
Instead of being coated in blue mana, my dick was a blade of blue mana now. My real dick had become the hilt, the glans forming the guard, and my urethra split open, spewing out mana.
"My—my dick! My dick's gone crazy!!"