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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Can I Trust Her?
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"You want me to take you as my familiars?"
Monsters have their own ecosystem.
The law of the jungle.
Though they'd branched off from magical beasts and partially escaped the influence of the Demon Realm,
they'd inherited the traits of their ancestors.
Fight and struggle.
Prey and be preyed upon.
To survive, they had to fight and grow stronger.
Yet ironically, no race had origins as clear-cut as magical beasts or monsters.
Orcs couldn't beat trolls.
Orcs couldn't beat yetis.
Orcs couldn't beat ogres.
Orcs couldn't beat basilisks, cockatrices, gargoyles, or wyverns.
The orc race boasted the highest numbers among demons due to their superior breeding,
but their limits were starkly defined.
Weak and numerous, they were the ones even humans looked down on.
Of course, there were ranks among orcs.
Frost orcs were at the pinnacle and could devour ogres if they gathered in even small numbers; humans didn't dare underestimate them. But everything was relative.
In the harsh wilds of the Erjest Mountains, Frost Orcs were just ordinary orcs.
They were at the bottom of the Erjest ecosystem.
They had to do anything to survive.
The spiritual herb was just such a thing. It was their hope for breaking their limits.
"So you dared resist even the Demon King's command and refuse to hand over the spiritual herb? And you want me to understand?"
Berge let out a hollow chuckle. Did these idiots even realize what they were saying?
"We're not asking for understanding. They paid the price for their foolish choice. We just ask that you recognize our tribe is different."
"You'd better be. If you were the same, you wouldn't dare flap your jaws in front of me."
The orcs trembled at the faint killing intent.
"Did you know I was coming?"
"We heard recently that the Fierce Wind Tribe was wiped out. That they coveted the spiritual herb and got massacred by Your Majesty."
"And?"
"We realized Your Majesty wanted the spiritual herb. Our tribe found it and figured you'd come for it someday. So we moved the tribe and waited."
"Not far from the tower. But you didn't come to the tower?"
"We thought you wouldn't want that..."
Pretty sharp. If they'd come to the tower causing trouble, he'd have ripped their heads off.
"We humbly beg you to take us as your familiars."
"Please take us!"
The Frost Orcs slammed their heads down again.
"What's your name?"
"Krutu, chieftain of the Red Frost Tribe."
"How many orcs in your tribe?"
"153. Half are warriors."
Berge fell into thought.
This wasn't unheard of.
Among intelligent monsters capable of speech, some volunteered to become a Demon King's familiars.
It was another way to break their racial limits.
Absorbing the demonic energy from the Demon King and the tower allowed them to leap to the next level.
Technically, it was regaining their original form, but he couldn't deny the appeal.
Were Frost Orcs useful? No. It was because of Krutu.
That's why they were called monsters.
Not just because they spawned from magical beasts.
Because they lacked intelligence and relied on instinct.
They were hard to talk to and didn't feel like intelligent beings.
If all orcs were like Krutu, humans might classify them as heteromorphs instead of monsters.
Demons, not magical beasts.
And that wasn't all. The aura from Krutu was distinctly different from other orcs.
Right. This guy already...
"You ate the spiritual herb."
"Yes. Long ago, my father saved one, and I luckily got to eat it."
"Fine. I'll accept you."
"Thank you!"
"Don't celebrate yet."
Familiars absorbed demonic energy through the tower, steadily consuming it like a human salary.
Monsters aimed for that when becoming familiars, but Berge, short on demonic energy, had no intention of accepting them wholesale.
Thus.
"I'll only take you as my familiar."
He saw the bigger picture.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"...This is it."
Krutu looked around wildly as he entered the tower.
"A Frost Orc this time?"
Gordon spotted Krutu and asked.
"Who's this?"
"My adjutant, Gordon."
"Pleasure, Sir Gordon. I'm Krutu, head of the Red Frost clan."
Gordon blinked at the fluid, natural manners.
"An orc..."
The orcs he knew couldn't speak so fluently.
"You'll be my first familiar since descending to Aren."
"...You're unconditionally welcome."
The first normal monster. Not a princess or dwarf hero, but a proper monster.
No reason for Gordon to object. Not that it mattered if he did.
"But a dwarf in the tower...?"
Krutu's gaze went to Roger's back, oblivious as he focused on trap-making.
"Does that matter?"
"No. Thinking about it, you travel with a human woman too."
"Listen. I had no intention of taking familiars for a while. Precisely, I didn't."
Demonic energy was limited, and he didn't want to waste it on useless orcs.
"You alone changed my mind."
"An honor."
The potential in Krutu.
The potential in the Frost Orcs he led.
"However, I won't make you part of the tower crew."
"...Different?"
"Very. I'll take you as familiar. You'll control the whole tribe relying on you, their chieftain. So run across the snowfields with your tribe."
Orcs were a race that roared their ferocity while racing across plains. Locking such beings in a cramped tower was wildly inefficient even without demonic energy concerns.
That's why orcs weren't popular familiars among Demon Kings.
"You've struggled in the Erjest for ages."
"Leaping from peak to peak, preying and being preyed on by countless monsters."
"You know the mountains' layout and the monsters' territories, right?"
Krutu nodded to Berge's rapid-fire questions.
"Yes."
"Through you, I see the future."
Berge's face lit with ecstasy.
It wasn't a lie. In his imagination, Frost Orcs bounded across mountains, roaring at the hero party climbing to kill him.
The sight of mountain monsters they'd desperately lured charging through blizzards at the heroes was thrilling.
"Take this."
It was Hyacinth.
It had lost its original chill purity,
tainted with the thick, murky aura of the Demon Realm.
"My familiars must be worthy of my greatness."
"They must stand behind me and support me."
"They must shatter my enemies."
"They must lay down their lives for me."
If so.
"Then I shall bestow upon you."
"Ah."
Krutu knelt, bowed his head, raised both arms, and carefully received the corrupted Hyacinth.
"An honor...!"
Berge's hand rested on his head.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Will you accept Frost Orc Krutu as your familiar?] [1000pt of demonic energy will be consumed.]
A hefty price. That meant he was worth it.
Demonic energy surged. The slave mark etched into Krutu's soul.
The dormant demonic energy within him awakened, drawn by the tower's aura.
Black horns sprouted. Tougher gray skin faintly covered parts of his body.
Krrruuurrr—
His pupils turned black. A small black dragon emblem symbolizing Berge engraved on his chest.
Krutu trembled in ecstasy.
He exhaled ragged breaths.
"My lord, your command."
"Go. Grow your tribe. Devour and conquer other tribes to multiply your limbs. Bide your time."
There was no rule saying he had to fight heroes inside the tower.
Inflicting maximum damage while they climbed would make dealing with them far easier.
"As you command."
The magical beast, partially awakened to its Demon Realm form, bowed to the loyalty surging from its soul depths.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ [182pt]
Totally wiped out.
Berge couldn't hold back a sigh.
His pre-regression self had been dazzling.
He'd kidnapped princesses from kingdoms, slain countless heroes and even more humans.
His infamy spread across the continent, and the negative emotions from humans never ceased.
Tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of points always filled to the brim.
"...But I still died in the end."
Infamy brought points but created equally numerous enemies.
Heroes came to the tower daily. He welcomed them with summoned magical beasts at great cost, but they all became fodder.
"Back then, I thought I'd won like an idiot."
Each hero wave consumed his beasts. Some heroes escaped alive, and Berge mocked them as rats, never pursuing.
Even after it repeated endlessly, he saw them as persistent weaklings.
Unaware it was all a play.
Pffft hahaha.
Self-deprecating laughter escaped. Anger imprinted on his soul began to rear its head.
'Still, I've done pretty much everything I can for now.'
Deprived humans of loot and spoils to sow division.
Unleashed Frost Orcs on the mountains.
Magic cannons prepped on the first floor.
And beyond all that, a princess they'd come to rescue would turn hostile.
'While they're distracted by the princess...'
He'd smash their unguarded backs himself.
That was the highlight.
Berge hoped the heroes would climb to the fourth floor. Just imagining their dazed faces was delightful.
"...Busy?"
Speak of the ogre, and it appears. Ernyan peeked through the door crack.
"What is it?"
"I knocked, but no answer..."
"I asked what it is."
"Gordon said you called for me."
"Ah."
Right.
Berge rummaged and pulled out a fruit. One of the two protected by the Red Frost Tribe. Called Aroje, was it?
Unlike Hyacinth, it grew as fruit on a tree.
"The tower taints elixirs with demonic energy. Better eat it quick."
"Thank you! And um..."
"Speak."
"You said you wanted me to block the hero myself?"
"Yes."
"How exactly do you want me to do it?"
Berge shut his mouth. He couldn't grasp her intent.
"No, I mean, you must have something specific in mind, right? Better to be clear."
"Didn't expect you to step up so eagerly."
"I got paid, so I should do my best. That's proper."
Did human notions of propriety apply to demons?
Whatever. If she'd work hard, great.
"You can't beat Hillun Kagil anyway. But you can distract him."
"Aha, honey trap? I can do that."
"..."
"...Not it?"
Ernyan deflated after winking.
"Any method works, as long as you make it intuitively clear you're hostile to him. He won't imagine the princess he must save fighting him."
"And Your Majesty exploits that opening."
"Exactly."
"Then..."
Ernyan pondered briefly, eyes sparkling.
"What if I introduce myself as your subordinate? Bigger shock, right?"
"Good idea, but."
Really?
"I'll think more and suggest something better if I come up with it."
'Why does she look so happy?'
He couldn't understand. So he didn't try. Crazy women weren't meant to be understood, as the saying went.
"Do as you like."
He waved her off. Ernyan left beaming.
'Can I trust her?'
He worried, but the dice were cast. Berge turned to what he could do now.
He fetched a root of demon-tainted Hyacinth from storage, popped it in his mouth, and chewed.
Melted demonic energy raced through his body.
His pupils blackened.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "We've arrived at Hottenwalk. We'll start climbing the mountain soon."
Time passed, and at last, the hero party led by Hillun reached the Demon King's front yard.