The Hero, the Meeting, and… (2)
I'd thought he was just one of those assassins, trained and discarded by the Empire. But a hero candidate?
Honestly, that was a shock.
Yeah… it was a shock, but…
I hadn't realized just how distracted I'd gotten.
By the time I came to my senses, I was already back in my room.
I must have been completely out of it because my memory of getting here was a blur. What was the clearest thing I remembered…?
That certainty that guy was going to die?
…
Yeah, best not to dwell on that any further. Whether he dies or not, whether I pity him or not, there's nothing I can do about it anyway.
I flopped onto the bed, holding the cube Edgar had brought me.
As I started to shuffle the cube around, trying to clear out my cluttered thoughts one by one, there was a knock at the door.
"It's me."
"…Lord Demon King?!"
I shot up instantly. Frantically straightening my clothes and raking my fingers through my messy hair, I hurried to open the door.
"What brings you here, my lord…?"
"I told you. I'd come to get you."
"…Huh?"
When?
He seemed to catch the confusion on my face because he raised an eyebrow at me. Folding his arms, he leaned casually against the doorframe, watching me with a look of mild irritation.
"The commanders' meeting. Ringing any bells now?"
I couldn't remember at all, but somehow it felt like saying so would be a very bad idea.
Doing my best to look completely unfazed, I nodded.
"Ah… right. I remember now."
The acting of a lifetime.
Luckily, the Demon King seemed to buy it without a trace of suspicion. He gave a nod and stood up straight.
"Let's go, then."
"Yes, sir."
I had a feeling stalling any longer would be a terrible idea, so I quickly followed after him.
In my rush, I completely forgot to set down the cube—actually, I even forgot I was still holding it as I left the room.
During the battle with the Hero, the commander of the 7th Legion had been an ogre.
Even aside from the fact that he was one of the core forces of the Demon King's army, I remembered him clearly. He had played the perfect supporting role for Deon Hart.
In other words, when Deon Hart first made his grand entrance, he did it by killing the 7th Legion Commander.
The Demon King chuckled to himself, recalling that day.
When they had finally defeated the Hero—when the Hero's life was hanging by a thread, bound to end soon enough on its own—the Demon King had drawn his sword to personally finish it.
—But the Hero had chosen to self-destruct.
He could still vividly remember how shocked he'd been, seeing that radiant light begin to pour out of the Hero's body.
"…Looks like this Hero's a real warmonger."
A dry laugh escaped him.
A Hero has two choices when they die.
One is to scatter fragments of their power across the continent, creating beings capable of resisting the Demon King—however small the chance.
The other, usually chosen when the Demon King is nearby, is self-destruction.
Gathering all their power and detonating it in one final explosion.
Most Heroes, thinking of the future, opt to scatter their power.
Not that it matters to me anyway.
He wasn't called the strongest Demon King in history for nothing. It would be a bit of a waste, but if he poured in enough magic power, he was confident he could survive the blast without taking serious damage.
The real problem was the other demons around him.
Every single demon in the Demon King's Castle had gathered to witness this historic battle—a battle that could decide the fate of their entire race.
The Hero's power was created to destroy the Demon King, and demons were born of the Demon King.
That meant the Hero's power would inevitably affect demons as well, at least indirectly.
If that power exploded here…
At a rough estimate, half.
About half of his entire army would vanish in an instant.
Considering that the Demon King's Castle was about the size of a small city in the Empire—and that every single demon was gathered here—the casualties would be catastrophic.
"Everyone, fall ba—!"
But just as he hurried to give the order—
KRA-KOOM!
…a human fell from the sky.
And with him—he dragged down the 7th Legion Commander.
He landed, crushing the 7th Legion Commander beneath him, but didn't spare so much as a glance at the Demon King.
Instead, as if simply checking to make sure the 7th Legion Commander was really dead, he stabbed the fallen ogre's neck with a dagger—then used it as leverage to slowly push himself upright. His movements were absurdly unhurried.
White hair. Red eyes.
His blood-red gaze flicked between the Demon King and the Hero before settling on the Hero. Then, without hurry, he started walking toward him—calm, measured steps.
Right through the center of the battlefield, where countless demons stood in a wide circle, not a trace of tension in his posture.
Completely exposed. Wide open.
And yet, maybe because of the sheer audacity of his movements—because of the unwavering look on his face—there was a force to his presence that couldn't be ignored. The soldiers, instead of stopping him, could only stand frozen in place, watching in stiff silence.
Pathetic fools.
The Demon King frowned slightly, though he refrained from saying it out loud. He himself had been momentarily overwhelmed too.
The distance between them hadn't been far to begin with, and soon enough, the man stood before the Hero.
Still not sparing even a glance at the Demon King, he placed a hand on the Hero's shoulder, leaned in close, his lips near the Hero's ear.
And then—a miracle happened.
The light pouring out of the Hero's body… suddenly shifted, flooding toward him instead.
"…Insane."
The Demon King muttered under his breath.
He knew better than anyone the nature of the Hero, the Demon King, and the Empire's system that created them. His mind raced to piece together the situation.
That white-haired human—he must have followed the Hero to witness the end of the battle firsthand and report back to the Empire. That was probably his primary mission.
And as a secondary mission… if the Hero died, he was to assess the Demon King's condition and, if he judged it possible, kill the Demon King himself.
So when the Hero chose self-destruction, he must have calculated the odds.
[The probability of injuring the Demon King with the Hero's self-destruction, and the scale of damage it could cause.]
[How many demons nearby could be wiped out in the blast.]
[The chances of breaking through the weakened ranks to kill the wounded Demon King.]
[And finally, the odds of successfully escaping alive to complete the primary mission.]
He must have concluded that self-destruction was irrational.
That's why he'd put a hand on the Hero's shoulder—to stop him. Dropping into the heart of enemy territory was unexpected, but perhaps he was confident he could escape alive.
Smart. Loyal to his mission. And skilled in battle…
The Demon King's eyes narrowed in delight.
He had to hand it to the Empire—sending someone like this into such a dangerous situation. If it were him, he might have used the man, but he wouldn't have sent him to die so callously.
In any case, the Hero had read his intent and, at the last moment, redirected his power toward him. Of course, that power didn't behave as the Hero might have wanted; there was no way it would just stay inside the other man's body or anything like that.
Obviously.
The Hero's power was something the world itself granted with a specific purpose. When the Hero died, that power was meant to scatter and return to the world.
Even leaving behind fragments of it in this world required the Hero's own life as payment. There was no way intentional transfer was possible.
The Hero must have known that better than anyone. He had probably endured unimaginable pain from that desperate, meaningless act.
In the end, the Hero collapsed, limp and lifeless after his futile struggle, and the Demon King's gaze rose slightly—to look at the man holding the Hero's body.
The one directly responsible for that absurd attempt to defy the will of the world. He couldn't possibly be unscathed.
And sure enough—
"Kuh…!"
With a stoic face that revealed no weakness, he coughed up blood.
A surprising amount of it spilled from his lips, yet his expression didn't falter. That strange dissonance sent a thrill through the Demon King's eyes.
Suppressing the rising excitement, the Demon King offered a gentle smile.
"You. Your name?"
"…Deon Hart."
Deon Hart. The Demon King rolled the name around on his tongue.
There was no need to memorize it—he already knew who this was.
On the surface, it looked like Deon Hart had stopped the Hero's self-destruction and paid for it by coughing up blood.
Even the other demons would have to acknowledge him after that.
With everything falling so neatly into place, there was no reason to hesitate. The Demon King let his desire show without restraint.
"Ever thought about joining the Demon King's army?"
Human or not—it didn't matter.
The Demon King liked this sharp, loyal, and competent man. More than anything, this human had stirred his long-dormant curiosity.
He had every reason to bring him into the Demon King's Castle.
"Hey, move over! You're blocking the view!"
"So… is that human an enemy or an ally?"
"He stopped the Hero's self-destruction! He's not an enemy, at least."
"But he killed the 7th Legion Commander?"
"Wait, wait—look! The Demon King is asking for his name!"
"Shut up! I can't hear anything!"
"You're the loud one!"
"So, what's his name?"
With the distance and the noise all around, plus that human's low voice, the demon soldiers gave up on listening and narrowed their eyes, focusing instead on reading his lips.
"De… mon, A… ru, te?"
"Demon Arute?"
"Sounds like it."
"Demon Arute, huh…"
Sounds more like a demon than a human.
And so, Deon Hart's name was twisted into "Demon Arute" and spread throughout the demon army camp.
The human who prevented the Hero's self-destruction and spared them from massive losses had accomplished something even the other Legion Commanders had to acknowledge.
Especially after the victory feast—celebrating both their win against the Hero and welcoming the new recruit—where 'Demon Arute' got drunk and turned the Demon King's Castle upside down. Ever since that night, no one questioned his abilities anymore. It helped that the unfortunate victim of that chaos had been another Legion Commander.
That's why, even though he'd barged in and immediately taken the position of 0th Legion Commander, most demons in the castle kept their criticisms to themselves.
Most of the time, anyway.
"He's late."
The 6th Legion Commander, Velitan, tapped his fingers on the conference table, muttering. His brow was deeply furrowed, showing clear irritation.
He knew perfectly well how much credit the man deserved for his achievements. He recognized his formidable strength too. But even so—this was unacceptable.
0th Legion Commander Demon Arute.
He was late to every meeting.
And now, again, with all the other commanders present—except those out on missions—he was the only one missing.
Velitan finally lost patience and slammed the table with a loud bang.
"Seriously, isn't it time someone said something?!"
"Keep it down."
"Jekar! How long are we supposed to put up with that arrogant behavior? He—"
"Velitan."
Eyes closed, leaning back in his chair, Jekar slowly opened his eyes and looked straight at Velitan.
That cold stare made Velitan flinch and fall silent, and right on cue, 4th Legion Commander Idelia cut in.
"The arrogant one here is you, Velitan. Do you even realize who you're talking about so rudely?"
"…What?"
"You're accusing someone of arrogance who's always so polite, even to mere servants? What a pathetic joke."
"Just because he uses polite words doesn't mean he's not arrogant! Then how do you explain him always being late to meetings?"
"I'm sure he has his reasons."
Her statement was firm and unwavering.
Even Ashild, who normally didn't get along with her, nodded in agreement—and for a moment, Velitan almost thought, Could that really be true?
But he quickly shook his head and snapped out of it, staring at her in disbelief.
"And how can you be so sure of that?"
Idelia was about to respond when—BANG!—a loud crash echoed from one side of the table.
Startled, every Legion Commander turned their heads at once.
The moment they realized who it was, a few sighed and shook their heads, some nodded like they'd expected it all along, and others looked visibly uncomfortable.
Velitan fell into the third category.
At the far end of the table, a tiny girl had suddenly stood up, both hands planted firmly on the table.
"Enough of the insults, Velitan! You're being blasphemous!"
"…Lirinel?"
"Blasphemous!"
"Li…"
"Blasphemy!"
11th Legion Commander Lirinel.
Usually quiet and sweet-natured, there was exactly one topic that made her lose her mind—and unfortunately for Velitan, that was Demon Arute.
Yes, she was a hardcore fan of Demon Arute.
Everyone who spent any time at the Demon King's Castle knew that, but Velitan, who was often away hunting monsters, had no clue.
So he just stared, dumbfounded, as the tiny girl jabbed her finger accusingly at him.
"Apologize! You ugly thing!"
"Gah…"
"L-Lirinel…?"
She might look small and delicate, but she was a Legion Commander.
Velitan was a typical warrior, swinging his massive axe, but Lirinel was a top-class witch, boasting the highest magic reserves among all the Legion Commanders.
If the two of them started a fight here today, this conference room wouldn't survive—it was a given.
And with the Demon King or the 0th Legion Commander bound to walk in soon, blowing up the room now…?
It would turn the whole castle upside down.
There might even be a massive reshuffle of the Legion Commanders.
As the other commanders fidgeted nervously, glancing around to assess the situation, a steward's voice rang out from beyond the conference room door.
"The Demon King and 0th Legion Commander have arrived."
…And with that, news of the 0th Legion Commander's arrival as well.