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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Destined for the First Floor
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Beautiful flowers have thorns.
Sweet honey has bees to guard it.
Spiritual herbs were more precious than flowers or honey. Something more beautiful, sweeter, and nobler.
Naturally, many coveted them.
Naturally, many sought to claim them.
Thus, naturally.
"Frost Orcs."
Another hunter seeking to claim the spiritual herb existed as well.
Fur as white as snow covered their entire bodies. They were Frost Orcs, dwellers of the snowcapped mountains.
"What do we do? Even seasoned knights can't measure up to them."
"And the one standing next to you is the Demon King, to boot."
He rose to his feet. He slowly drew closer to their village.
Grrr—
Grrr?
A monster's growl echoed through the blizzard. He could feel their eyes on him.
One, two, three. The golden pupils multiplying before him brimmed with wariness and hostility.
"...Demonkin."
The words tumbled roughly from one orc's mouth.
Berge hadn't hidden his presence, and they had seen through his identity.
"As Demon King, I command you—leave these and depart in peace."
Monsters were ultimately inferior versions of demon beasts. The demon beasts that the demon realm had scattered across every dimension had settled in the middle realm and taken on fixed forms.
Dozens, hundreds of generations had passed since their ties to the demon realm were severed, but a faint imprint lingered in their flesh.
A loyalty meant for demonkin. For the demon realm.
But.
"...No."
"This is ours."
"We heed no demonkin words."
The Frost Orcs bared their fangs. Wariness and hostility twisted into murderous rage.
"These things..."
Berge had overlooked two facts. First, that the connection to the demon realm had faded to near-nothingness in monsters living lives of isolation.
And second, that to these instinct-driven creatures, the spiritual herb right before their eyes was an absolute treasure they could never relinquish.
Something an unknown demonkin could be defied for.
But the Frost Orcs had overlooked something too—that Berge was no mere demonkin, but a Demon King.
That he was one who reveled in battle.
Whoosh—
Black flames erupted. The driving snow couldn't even encroach on their domain.
"K-Kill...!"
"Protect what's ours!"
The orcs gripped their weapons and flew into a frenzy, eyes bloodshot.
The black flames parted like a massive maw. The two sides collided.
Boom—!
The lead orc exploded outright.
That was the beginning. Explosions, screams, and roars filled the air.
"...Ah."
Ernyan stared blankly at the scene.
It was hot.
Intensely so—the blizzard of the snowcapped mountains felt like a mere warm breeze.
The black flames moved like a living creature.
Melting snow, scorching earth, devouring orcs.
The orcs screamed.
They rolled in the snow, but the flames didn't go out.
Their fangs never reached the Demon King. Their blades melted pitifully before the infernal blaze.
It was a one-sided slaughter. A massacre.
'Even five Frost Orcs can devour an ogre. On the mountains, no knight—no matter how mighty—can stand against them. If you encounter any, flee without fail.'
'Would I ever have reason to climb a mountain crawling with Frost Orcs?'
'Well, no. Just something to keep in mind, haha.'
Fragments of the past surfaced in her mind.
She had ended up here after all. Far from any real danger, but still.
'This... is a Demon King.'
The spirits trembled in terror. They hid behind her back, cowering from the aura of an absolute being.
But she couldn't tear her eyes away. It was beautiful. That strength. That overwhelming power.
'If only I were that strong...'
Perhaps she wouldn't have had to live a life like a prison.
In that moment, darkness fell. The ironic black light vanished.
Huff—
The Demon King let out an exhilarated breath.
The chieftain's body dangled limply in his grasp like a corpse.
Dead? No, not quite.
There was the faintest breath. But nothing more.
The chieftain was in no state to do anything. His twisted limbs bled profusely, and the glossy fur that had once covered him was burned away without a trace.
His comrades lay buried in the frozen tundra, blanketed in snow.
"Say it again."
"...W-We... yield."
"I..."
The Demon King spat the words as if chewing them up.
"...absolutely hate being ignored. I utterly despise mockery."
Daring orcs—not even heroes—to defy him.
The vanguard of the demon realm.
"How do you think it makes me feel when brainless mutts like you crawl all over me?"
"M-Mercy..."
"You think dogs that bite their master deserve mercy?"
"W-We will serve Demon King-sama."
The lifeforms that filled a Demon King's tower fell into three broad categories.
Demonkin.
Demon beasts.
And monsters.
Demonkin meant the intelligent beings of the demon realm.
Demon beasts were everything else.
And monsters were a branch of demon beasts that had long since taken root in the middle realm.
There were two ways to use these monsters as residents of the tower.
Imprint them with a slave seal using magi points and the tower's power.
Or bend them to your will through sheer force until they submitted willingly.
But Berge had no intention of taking them in.
Even without an imprint, anyone brought into the tower would absorb at least a little of its magi.
He had no magi points to waste on trash like this right now.
And dogs that bit their master once weren't worth sparing.
"That's not for you to decide."
Crunch—
He claimed the creature's life.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Wow... The mana purity here is incredibly high."
At the heart of the Frost Orcs' village grew plants wafting a thick mana scent.
Gulp.
The princess swallowed unconsciously.
"Don't get any ideas."
Berge snorted and shoved her aside.
He carefully unearthed three roots and tucked them into his bosom.
These pure white flowers, known as hyacinths, were cold-attuned herbs that grew only in snowcapped mountains.
They held an extreme chill, making them treasures that water spirit mages and ice-affinity wizards would pay a fortune for.
For a first haul found in a mere thirty minutes, it was far too bountiful.
'Who would've thought a mana-dense zone would be this close.'
Berge clicked his tongue at the princess, who had gone from dejected to practically dancing with her spirits.
Even without the herbs themselves, the place was a massive gift for a spirit mage like her.
'If only I'd been a bit more cautious...'
The tower absorbed tiny amounts of surrounding mana and converted it to magi.
If he'd built it here, his magi supply would've been that much better. No changing it now, though.
'Looks like swapping out the princess will need more thought.'
He'd considered keeping tabs on the heroes' situation and, if things went south, shipping off the first princess while kidnapping the thirteenth again.
But the potential she'd shown made him hesitate.
The Erjest Mountains, overflowing with spiritual herbs.
And a princess who commanded the ultimate scouts: spirits.
'At least for the time being...'
He felt the need to exploit her presence at his side.
Until he could minimize the dimension's interference and reclaim his true power.
Until the moment he could sever the heads of the heroes who had toyed with him.
'Humans need the right carrot to really put their backs into it.'
"On to the next spot. If we find more, I might let you have one."
"Yes! I'll search with everything I've got!"
But as the saying went, a hot start often fizzled. Nothing more turned up until she collapsed from exhaustion.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"The heroes have begun their hero procession?"
"Yes. The elf brought word."
Waiting for Berge upon his return to the tower was news of the hero procession's start.
Hero procession. A term he'd grown sick of hearing before his regression.
"...So it begins."
"Word is thirty-two heroes have banded together."
"Who's leading?"
"A hero named Hillun Kagil. He's the one rumored to have slain the Lust Demon King."
"Hillun Kagil..."
He'd heard the name before. The real deal—a hero who had actually beheaded the Lust Demon King.
Of all the luck, a heavy hitter right out of the gate.
'The price of erecting a tower in the Erjest Mountains?'
The ploy meant to weed out as many heroes as possible seemed to have drawn a far greater foe instead.
"How about we disrupt the procession as much as possible, first?"
"How?"
"Isn't that why you bought Granada?"
"He's for something bigger. Can't waste him lightly."
"Then buy demon beasts with magi points and send them."
Not even worth considering.
Heroes chosen by the dimension grew stronger by hunting invaders. In other words, heroes leveled up through battles with demon beasts, demonkin, and Demon Kings.
But that was the textbook approach.
To hinder the procession. To fatten up the heroes before devouring them.
Which only made it all the more repulsive.
"Rejected."
"Then we're out of options. If they come charging in, we'll lose for sure. Why not hold off on selling magi points and use them to reduce dimension interference instead?"
"Months at best. You think that'll be enough to beat a hero who beheads Demon Kings?"
Impossible. If it were, he wouldn't have died in his previous life. Back then, he'd kidnapped princesses from countless nations, stirred up strife, and reveled in infamy.
"Then you'll just sit back and let them come?"
"No. I'll use them."
"Use how?"
"Hero procession. What a spectacle humans go mad for."
Berge knew full well the hero procession's significance. The ripple effects it carried. The fame it brought them.
He'd suffered through it countless times.
"The perfect stage for a skilled mercenary corps without much fame to make their mark."
"You mean send Granada?"
"I'd prefer humans handling humans."
No matter how money-hungry, they wouldn't try assassinating a hero who'd beheaded a Demon King and now had the whole continent's eyes on him.
"Then what about the rest? They're still coming."
"Nothing."
Sending demon beasts would only make them stronger. There was no substitute to send in their place. So he'd send nothing.
That alone would impose some limits on the heroes' growth. A hero procession was practically a signal to Demon Kings: send your demonkin. So they could grow. Cutting that off at the source meant he'd at least outperform the average.
"For those hero bastards."
"Pardon?"
"When the princess said she'd decorate the fourth floor, it got me thinking. Maybe I've been too stuck in the mold. Maybe I can't escape being just another demonkin after all."
Doubt crept in.
Did he really need to use magi points to strengthen the tower?
Did he really need to burn magi points sustaining traps?
"What do you think about filling the tower with something other than demon beasts?"
"What nonsense is that?"
Gordon was aghast.
"Don't tell me you're planning to buy slaves again to fill it? Absolutely not! No way!"
"Why?"
"It's a tower! You're a Demon King! You plan to entrust your Demon King's tower to mere humans!?"
"Not humans. Dwarves."
"Even worse! You know how stingy those runts are?"
"They are small."
"Just imagine those pathetic dwarves greeting heroes from your grand tower! What do you think the heroes would say?"
"Laugh?"
Picture the tower doors swinging open to reveal dwarves around 130 cm tall. Pretty ridiculous.
"Exactly! We need imposing demon beasts everywhere, not trash like that!"
What demonkin craved was fear, dread, rage, and despair.
Would humans feel dread from dwarves? Despair? No. They'd laugh and mock.
Such a thing could never be allowed.
"The throne atop the tower isn't there for show. And those dwarves would never faithfully obey a Demon King's commands!"
"I hear dwarves love money too."
"At least they're not like humans, selling their guts and gall for coin. They're sneakier. More infuriating."
"Lots of stubborn ones."
"And above all..."
"Above all?"
"They're weak. Fine as demon beast fodder, but as tower guardians? I absolutely oppose it. The tower needs to be packed with the strongest demon beasts possible to stand against heroes!"
"You're right. A tower needs the strongest packed in."
"Music to my ears. Now you sound like a proper Demon King."
Gordon nodded vigorously on purpose. Thank goodness he'd talked his lord out of his folly.
"So we'll fill the first floor with dwarves."
"Gah!"
Gordon bit his tongue.
Not even a shred of persuasion had gotten through!