The sun rose over the shining rooftops of the City of Traders. Gold gleamed, silks fluttered, and the streets were already full of shouting merchants and scampering servants.
And right in the middle of it all… stood a man on top of a fountain, arms crossed, cape flapping unnecessarily in the breeze. His name was Derik.
"Citizens of this noble merchant city," he shouted, pointing at the sky for no reason, "you are safe because I exist!"
No one clapped.
A kid threw a tomato at him. He caught it with a smug smile.
"See? Even your food loves me!"
He bit into it dramatically… and choked.
His assistant, a tired old mage beside him, sighed. "Sir, maybe stop eating thrown objects?"
Derik coughed loudly, wiped his mouth, and posed again.
"I'm Derik the Hero! Chosen one! Blessed by the System! Defender of Trade! The Sword of the Poor! The Shield of the Rich! And the—"
The assistant whispered, "You're scaring the tourists."
Derik puffed his chest. "Let them be inspired!"
Meanwhile… back at the demon base.
Inside a dark stone hall filled with fire torches, Eren sat on a crooked stone throne. Around him were his three commanders: Zenis, Rost… and the new one, Hagemaru—the weirdly overexcited beast-man who had cried during the last fight.
Zenis raised a glass of blood. "To Hagemaru, new commander of the eastern claw!"
Rost nodded, "Don't cry this time."
"I'm not crying!" Hagemaru said, clearly crying.
Eren narrowed his eyes. "Shut up."
All three instantly went silent.
"We have more important things to deal with," Eren said, his voice serious. "We're going to destroy the City of Traders."
A map was spread out on the floor. It showed the city surrounded by merchant caravans, trade roads, and a huge wall.
Zenis tapped the center. "There's no king here. The city is ruled by money. That means there are no rules. Slaves come and go. Magical artifacts from all over the world arrive here."
Hagemaru slammed his claw on the table. "Then we should attack head-on! Smash the gates! Rip the walls down!"
Eren gave him a look. "You really want us all to die?"
"But—"
"No buts, dog boy," Eren snapped. "They've got an army. And worse… they have Derik—a hero with a goddamn cheat system."
Zenis muttered, "Cheat systems are annoying. I fought one once. Took me a week to regrow my arms."
The room fell quiet.
Even the torches seemed to flicker nervously.
Rost rumbled, "Then what do we do, Lord?"
Eren leaned forward, a dangerous smile creeping on his face.
"We scare them."
The others blinked.
"Scare?" Hagemaru asked.
"Actually We'll attack them head-on," Eren explained, "but not to win. Not yet. We make it look like we're about to destroy everything. We don't need to actually fight. We just need the city to panic."
He pointed at the map again.
"Merchants are cowards. Traders love money, not war. If we make the city believe the hero can't stop us, they'll start fighting each other. Some will run. Some will sell out others. The city will fall apart before we even enter."
The commanders looked at each other.
"…That's actually… smart," Hagemaru whispered.
"Murmurmurmur…" Zenis nodded thoughtfully.
"Murrmmurmurmur…" Rost agreed.
Eren raised an eyebrow. "Are you all… murmuring now?"
"…Sorry. Force of habit," Zenis said.
Eren stood up and raised his hand.
"Prepare the army. Light the fires. Let the humans hear the name of their nightmares."
His eyes glowed crimson.
"The Demon Lord is coming."