Chapter 1

“Phew, finally some free time. What do you two want to do?”

Letting out a long breath, I, Makoto Misumi, sank into the chair in our guest room. I was still feeling the mental drain from our meeting with the Demon King.

I was in demon territory, visiting as the representative of the Kuzunoha Company, along with my followers Mio and Shiki.

And wow… He’s kind of everything I expected a demon king to be.

He and his four children had greeted us with warm smiles and polite conversation, but even then, I couldn’t shake the feeling they were quietly digging beneath our words, gleaning much more information about us than what we said aloud.

Not that it was an interrogation. Far from it. They answered our questions just as smoothly as we did theirs. And when we asked about going out into the city, they gave permission easily—no guards, no surveillance, no fuss.

“I’d like to have a word with Rona,” Shiki said now, standing with his usual composed air.

He looked every bit the elegant scholar: tall, with long crimson hair tied back in a neat ponytail, and a calm, refined expression.

“With Rona? Oh, right… you two knew each other from before.”

“Indeed. I won’t waste time reminiscing. But I feel she’s being unnecessarily cautious around us. I figured it would be best to clear up any ‘misunderstandings’ before the banquet. The Demon King has probably already told her all about our meeting, so I’d rather not delay.”

Misunderstandings? We didn’t say anything to make her suspicious, did we?

Unless he means the kind of thing that might be misunderstood if left alone.

“I see,” I said with a nod. “So, you’re not heading into the city with us?”

“No, that can wait for another day.”

“How about you, Mio?”

“No, I’m going now.” Mio’s voice practically danced with excitement. “I already spotted a few places that looked both fun and delicious.”

Once again, I found myself marveling at Mio’s ability to multitask. During the welcome parade, she’d been the perfect picture of respectful attention—and yet, somehow, she’d managed to simultaneously scope out the surrounding shops.

I’ve heard that nervous actors are sometimes told to imagine the whole audience as potatoes. But Mio? She probably saw that crowd of demons and demi-humans as literal potatoes.

No, scratch that. Potatoes are food. She would have cared far more about potatoes.

Either way, I seriously admired her nerves of steel. Before this, my last official visit was to the Empire. Tomoe came with me, while Mio stayed behind to watch over the Demiplane. This time, she was adamant that it was her turn—and she made that argument with all the passion of a child making sure their slice of cake is the same size as everyone else’s.

Honestly… Sometimes, I wonder if she’s still a child herself.

For her part, Tomoe had been in unusually high spirits ever since we returned from Gritonia, and when Mio brought up staying behind this time, Tomoe agreed without a word of protest.

That said, it seemed like she had something going on herself, so maybe she was planning not to come from the start.

Shiki, though… I couldn’t help feeling a little guilty for dragging him along on both trips. But the truth was, he was the one I felt most at ease bringing with me. I knew I could always rely on him.

Still, if I’d left him behind, he could’ve covered my lectures at the academy, so I wouldn’t have had to cancel them.

Yeah… that one’s on me. I’ll have to reflect on that later.

I turned back to Mio. “Out for food, huh? Well, they are throwing us a banquet tonight, so try not to stuff yourself too much. Also, I know they said we’ll be perfectly safe on our own, but if you see anyone following you, just… please don’t use force unless absolutely necessary.”

“Got it. I’ll be gentle… Just a light pat or two.”

She gave a sweet smile, but the playful glint in her eyes told me her idea of a “pat” could flatten a building.

“If you’re worried about me, Young Master, why not come along?”

“I’d like to, but I figure I’ll use the time to take care of Luto’s errand first.”

Luto, the Greater Dragon, also known as the Myriad Colors, was moonlighting as the master of the Adventurer’s Guild and had recently asked me to hold on to something for him.

“Luto’s?” Mio paused, tilting her head thoughtfully for a moment, then clapped her hands together in realization. “Ah, you mean that egg.”

“Yep. The red and white egg.”

“Ah, yes. In that case, why don’t I join you for—”

“Yeah, no. That’s not happening,” I cut Mio off with a shake of my head. “It’s apparently close to a spot where… let’s just say the old Mio caused a bit of a mess. Just to be safe, I’d rather not bring you along.”

Today, Mio was a dignified beauty in a traditional black kimono. But before she became my Contracted follower, she was known as a calamity. A monster. A legendary giant spider who struck fear into whole regions.

“The old me, huh…”

Yeah… No offense, but better safe than sorry.

“Anyway, I’ll just head over, drop it off, and be back before you know it. From what the Demon King said, the place isn’t that far. Shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”

“If I recall, he said it was ‘a few days to the north,’” Shiki chimed in helpfully. “But if it’s anything like the White Desert we visited recently, it shouldn’t be an issue. For you, Young Master, it’ll be a few hours there, and you can use the mist for a shortcut on the way back.”

Exactly. Unlike last time, there were people stationed there who could handle guarding the area. My part was just to deliver the item. That would complete the mission.

This time around, it seemed Luto had arranged everything directly with the other party. He hadn’t even informed the demons about it. So, when I told them where I was going, they looked completely baffled.

That’s fair enough. If some outsider suddenly started naming off locations deep inside your own territory, you’d probably be caught off guard, too.

“Well, if that’s how it is, I suppose there’s no helping it,” Mio said with a small sigh. “A pity, but I’ll focus my efforts today on discovering new recipes instead. And perhaps I’ll find a few souvenirs for our Demiplane friends.”

“That’s a great idea. If you find any good restaurants, let me know. Or anything souvenir-worthy. Send that my way, too.”

“Absolutely! Today shall be a glorious food crawl.”

“All right then, see you later.”

I slid the window open with a casual flick. The wind howled, filling the room as an icy blast of snowflakes drifted through the opening.

Below, the courtyard was bathed in an ethereal glow, lit by soft, shifting lights that lent the garden a dreamlike beauty.

Alas, I wasn’t looking down. My eyes were trained upward, toward the ink-black sky and the swirling snow.

“Travel safe, Young Master. We’ll take care of things here while you handle your errand,” Shiki said, giving me a graceful bow.

“Try not to catch a cold,” Mio added brightly.

Leaving their voices behind me, I kicked off the balcony—a wide, open platform that actually resembled more of a rooftop terrace.

Magic gathered beneath my foot midair, forming a solid platform. I kicked again.

Rising higher into the sky with each burst of magic, I ascended into the dark heavens and soon passed beyond the city’s barrier.

All around me, the world was swallowed by wind, snow, and pitch-black night.

I checked the direction to my destination, then set a single marker in the distance, a magical waypoint, invisible to the eye but unmistakable in presence. Now, even in the blizzard, I wouldn’t get lost.

Back in my room, I’d already done the prep work to make a mist gate for my return trip. All I had to do was activate it once I finished up. Cleanup could wait until then.

Next stop: a volcano buried in the ice fields. An untouched frontier, without question.

“Lapis Lazuli Volcano, huh… I wonder if it’s actually blue. That sounds like it would be beautiful.”

With that flicker of hope warming my chest, I dived headlong into the fury of the snowstorm.

※※※

Within the blinding dark of the blizzard, I found myself thinking, Without magic, I’d be dead by now.

The lights of the capital had vanished like a dream of summer.

This Lapis Lazuli Volcano had to be as extreme as Gritonia’s hidden zone, the White Desert. Just in a different way.

That place was scorching and filled with deadly traps. This one was freezing and ruled by raw, violent nature. Both were absurd, in their own way.

One thing didn’t add up.

Akari, the Crimson Lapis. He’s supposed to be a dragon of flame, right? So, why the hell is he out here in the middle of a snowstorm?

Sure, maybe the inside of the volcano wasn’t cold—but this outer region? This was ridiculous.

It just doesn’t make sense.

Back when I fought Sofia, the Dragon Slayer, she used Akari’s power. Based on what I saw then, Akari was a fire-breathing dragon that could fly through the skies.

A walking embodiment of destruction, unleashing searing breath that was more like laser beams than traditional fire.

A fire dragon straight out of classic fantasy.

Okay, maybe “lasers” is pushing it. But still, we’re basically talking about a red dragon here.

I felt a surge of excitement at the thought of seeing Akari in all his glory—soaring through the sky, majestic and fierce.

That kind of sight would be unforgettable.

For the moment, he was still an egg. My eyes drifted toward the cloth bag at my side.

Even if dragons grow fast… I probably won’t live long enough to see him take flight.

Sofia, seriously… you’re really troublesome.

Oh, wait. Is that it?

A faint pinkish haze caught my eye, floating in the distance like a soft mist.

Judging by the distance… yeah, that’s gotta be it. But why’s it glowing red?

After leaping across a few magic footholds in the sky, I finally saw it clearly: an intensely bright red light that clashed wildly with the snowy, frozen landscape.

As I drew closer, a towering mountain came into view, shimmering like it was carved from ruby. The entire peak gleamed with a deep, jewel-toned brilliance, the glow casting reflections over the snow like firelight.

“If anything, this place looks more like Crimson Jewel Volcano than Lapis Lazuli Volcano…” I muttered.

This was anything but blue.

Still, I couldn’t imagine a place like this being unknown or unnamed. It very much radiated “This place is not normal” energy.

I touched down lightly near the base. Even the ground at my feet sparkled in crimson hues, like scattered gemstone fragments.

If this were all really ruby… I’d be a billionaire. Maybe it’s just colored glass, but even then, this is wild.

Yeah, Lapis Lazuli Volcano (temporary name) definitely lived up to the hype. This sight alone was worth the trip.

I should collect a sample or two later.

I didn’t have any experience gathering rare materials, but I imagined this must be what it felt like when tourists absentmindedly picked up seashells on a southern beach.

Well, in my case, I might be a little more motivated by greed.

If this really is Lapis Lazuli Volcano, then someone, or something, has to be living here, right?

I began by releasing my Realm for a wide-area scan, expanding its reach until it covered the entire mountain.

The moment the concealment broke, my mana body flickered faintly into visibility, and a small amount of my magical energy began to leak into the air.

That was the unavoidable trade-off.

I still couldn’t fully stabilize my construct at 100 percent, nor could I keep it circulating indefinitely without any loss.

If I could pull that off, it’d be a perpetual motion machine. Not a bad goal to aim for, though.

The main drawback? Keeping my mana body visible like this at all times would probably make people keep their distance.

I mean, come on. If there’s a ghostly figure constantly hovering behind me, how many times a day do you think I’ll get the old “Excuse me, sir, I think you’re possessed” routine?

Hard pass. That sounds exhausting.

As these thoughts tumbled through my head, I kept scanning the area, then spotted something: a cave partway up the mountain.

Inside it were signs of life. Under a hundred beings, but definitely sentient. Probably demi-humans or monsters.

“There we go. A cave, huh? Makes sense.”

All right, time to move.

I could sense no traps, no monsters along the path.

Aside from the slight incident where I got careless and ended up knocking a rather large Frost Dragon out of the sky, I hadn’t really had to fight much during this trip. After all, I much preferred avoiding unnecessary encounters.

That said, the encounter rate itself wasn’t low.

If I’d stopped to deal with every single monster I sensed, there’d be a trail of corpses marking my entire route.

Compared to that, this place felt surprisingly safe.

Maybe the guards stationed here had done a decent job of patrolling the area.

“Oops. Ah, there we go.”

I reached the ledge where the cave entrance sat and stepped quickly inside. I’d only gone a few paces in when the atmosphere suddenly shifted.

“Ahh… so that’s why they call it Lapis Lazuli.” Outside, red. Inside, completely blue.

It was beautiful, no doubt about that, but this place was best for sightseeing and then going home.

Honestly, I can’t imagine ever wanting to live here, especially with the environment outside the cave. Shame, really.

“Oh? Is that someone coming to meet me?”

It was then that I sensed a presence drawing closer from deeper inside.

Just one.

They weren’t casting magic or showing any signs of aggression.

Still, wow, everything is so blue.

It was like being trapped in a giant neon sign. The constant glow made it hard to relax. I vaguely remembered reading that blue light supposedly helped with sleep, but… Yeah, I’m calling BS on that now.

“May I ask your name?”

The figure emerged, their body shifting ever so slightly as they came to a stop in front of me. Their voice was calm, polite. Unexpectedly, they used the common tongue.

“I’m Raidou,” I answered. “I’ve come on behalf of Luto to deliver an egg… belonging to the Greater Dragon Crimson Lapis… sama.”

Whew. Almost forgot the honorific there. That could’ve been bad.

I’d already made that mistake once when delivering an egg to Gront. Lesson learned. I’d meant to be more careful this time.

This, Person? Entity? Whatever they were, they were so unusual, I felt like I still hadn’t caught my footing in this conversation.

If I had to describe them in one word? Slime.

Their body was made of a blue, semi-solid gel that shimmered faintly in the cave’s neon glow. It took the shape of a human, complete with a face vaguely defined by subtle dips and ridges across its surface.

Judging by the curves of their silhouette, the figure appeared to be female.

She wasn’t wearing any clothes, so technically, I was talking to a completely naked woman.

Considering I could see right through her, there wasn’t even a flicker of temptation.

I feel kind of rude for thinking this, but I think this is the most “gentlemanly” I’ve ever been.

Seriously, it would take someone with incredible… let’s say fortitude, to feel anything remotely arousing in this situation.

Even Tomoki, Gritonia’s hero—I mean, the guy charms half the world just by breathing, so… actually, he might not even have a filter. He’d probably hit on her, too, no questions asked.

Okay, what the hell am I even thinking about right now?

Anyway… my apologies.

If Luto’s information is accurate, then I also need to apologize for that time Mio nearly wiped her entire people off the map. That too. Seriously. Sorry.

As I cycled through apology after apology in my mind, Miss Slime (tentative name) spoke again.

“Are you… Azuma-sama?”

My heart skipped a beat. Azuma?

A name from my past, so achingly familiar. My classmate, the captain of the archery club.

And…

Short hair. A calm, focused gaze. Her face flickered in my mind. But the way this slime woman said it… It couldn’t possibly be the same person.

I steadied myself. Following her gaze, I realized she was looking at the egg.

Wait. Does she think the egg is—

Picking up on my confusion, she gently rephrased her question. “Pardon me… Are you Crimson Lapis–sama?”

So, it’s the dragon’s name.

Azuma… that’s what Akari’s called. The name felt strangely familiar now, not just from my past but here. Knowing someone with that name… It sparked a weird sort of fondness.

This is ridiculous. Am I reacting this strongly just from hearing a name? What am I, homesick?

Forget meeting another Japanese person, even just hearing a Japanese name had me practically spiraling.

Besides, Luto had mentioned that Azuma was male.

Now that I think about it… there are four male Greater Dragons and three females, right?

Wait. Hold on. That’s assuming Luto’s male. He’s a man now, sure, but didn’t he used to be female?

He did say something once about having a child with someone… so if he can switch, that might technically make him female too.

Okay, you know what? Let’s split the difference. Three guys, three girls… and one wildcard.

That works.

“Ahem… Raidou-sama?”

Crap. Miss Slime had tilted her head, looking at me with obvious concern.

“Oh! Yes, sorry; that’s right, Crimson Lapis–sama, of course! My apologies, I spaced out a little there!”

“You must be tired,” she said softly. “It’s understandable. The path here is brutal, no matter which route you take. I’ll take you somewhere you can rest shortly. But first… the egg, if you would?”

I loosened the strap from my shoulder and opened the bag just enough for her to see inside. Then, with careful hands, I pulled the egg free.

The moment her gaze fell upon it, her face was overcome by reverence. A deep, almost sacred awe.

Impressive. Even if it’s in egg form, she can tell. Definitely a guardian.

“I can confirm its authenticity,” she said, lowering her head in apology. “Forgive me for harboring doubt. From here on, Raidou, you’ll be guided by one of Crimson Lapis–sama’s personal attendants.”

Perfect. Looks like I’ll get through this one without any unnecessary drama.

Oh, right. There was something I needed to check.

I should ask if it’s okay to take a few pieces of this blue crystal from inside and maybe some of that red mineral from outside as well.

Also, what exactly did Luto tell them about me?

No way I’m letting that weirdo throw me under the bus again.

I had no interest in another wasteful clash like the one with Gront. That poor thing seemed genuinely sulky by the end… I still feel kinda bad about it.

Still, I think I’m improving. Even if it’s slow, I’m getting there.

With my second egg delivery completed successfully, I let a quiet sense of relief wash over me and took a moment to fully take in the surreal beauty of this hidden land.

※※※

Well, that took longer than expected.

I almost got roped into a full-on celebration with the slime folk—and very nearly ended up staying the night.

Yeah… those “timeless and mystical vistas” really are traps in disguise.

Places like that, I realized, should be visited when you’ve got a flexible schedule, not on a delivery run. I made a mental note to come back someday with everyone, when we actually had time to enjoy it properly.

I still managed to make it back in time for the demonfolk’s banquet, but I arrived over an hour later than I wanted to.

Now, I was back in the demon capital, freshly changed into a formal dwarven-made suit tailored for the evening.

Lately, I’d been finding myself in more and more situations where my usual jacket wasn’t appropriate. Banquets, ceremonies, official meetings… I’d finally asked the dwarves to make me some proper formalwear.

Now that I think about it,why didn’t I just ask the orcs instead?

I should have known that the dwarves would prioritize certain types of functionality, like armor.

So, as expected, the suit took ages to complete. In the meantime, I’d bought a few stopgap outfits from shops here and there… all of which were now gathering dust in my wardrobe. A bit of a waste, really.

“So, the egg that holds Akari was delivered safely, then? Sounds like everything went smoothly,” Shiki remarked.

He was lounging in a chair in the waiting room, looking completely at ease. Mio still wasn’t back yet.

When we first got here, the demons offered to prepare a room for each of us, but I declined, saying we preferred one shared room. Splitting up would have been a hassle, especially if one of us went back to the Demiplane and we needed to coordinate anything.

“Well, I did turn down their banquet. That might have rubbed them the wrong way,” I admitted.

Shiki waved it off. “Not enough to worry about. You brought them an object of worship. They won’t hold a grudge just because you declined a feast.”

I shrugged. “I probably came across as a bit careless. Since we won’t be seeing them again anytime soon, I didn’t bother being too thorough.”

“The truth is,” Shiki said, “we can’t expect them to send messengers around to scattered settlements out here. Even the forest ogres would struggle to cover this much ground. Perhaps if they worked in groups… But one of them alone would be pushing it. Anyway, I doubt you’ll be forming long-term ties with the slime people.”

“I wouldn’t ask that much of the forest ogres anyway. We’re already stretched thin as it is. If the company ever does bring goods into this city, I’d leave it to you or Tomoe to handle. At best, a few shipments a month. Definitely not enough to warrant opening a store here.”

“Still, the demons will press you to establish one, by every means they can think of.”

“Then I’ll politely say no.”

“That would be the safest course.” Shiki added, “By the way, about tonight’s seating arrangements…”

“Seating arrangements? Ah, the placement chart. Let’s see…”

“We’re here,” he said, pointing at the diagram.

“Ah… Huh? That’s pretty close to where the Demon King is sitting. Does that mean we’re… welcomed here?”

Were they trying to make some kind of statement? I thought I’d made it clear enough we couldn’t throw in our lot with the demons. And looking at the seating map, beyond checking where my chair was, I couldn’t read any of the hidden meanings that I was sure lurked on the page.

“The level of welcome here is quite high,” Shiki replied smoothly. “You are definitely being treated as a guest of honor, on par with a state dignitary.”

“W-Wait, a state dignitary? We’re just merchants. How does that make us important national guests?”

“They won’t say it outright, but that does seem to be the case. As expected of Demon King Zef. He must have sensed something about you, Young Master.”

“Which means… what? Some kind of greeting hell is about to rain down on me?”

Just imagining it made my stomach ache.

I could barely survive the barrage of greetings at the Rotsgard academy festival… and now this?

“On the contrary,” Shiki said, shaking his head. “There may not be much at all. With this placement, it’s more likely that private conversation with the Demon King will be prioritized. If others approach, it would likely be his close generals or the people who sat in on the previous meeting.”

Something about the way he phrased that bothered me.

The generals, sure. But the ones who sat in on the meeting…

“Don’t you mean the princes and princesses, Shiki? They’re his children, after all.”

So, the demon generals and the princes and princesses, huh? Great…

No matter how gentle or refreshing their smiles looked, when they came from people like that, even a smile could weigh as much as a mountain.

If they’re doing it intentionally, then fine, I’ll just have to deal with it. But I can’t exactly ask them to please stop smiling at me.

“Oh, yes, I nearly forgot,” Shiki said, his tone shifting. “Young Master, you may not know this.”

“Hm? Not know what?”

I was so grateful that Shiki seemed to know all the subtleties around this kind of thing. Without him, I’d be completely adrift.

“The demons choose their next monarch by ability, on the merits of power and strength. Of course, politics and influence may color the process somewhat, but still, only someone truly capable can ascend to the throne.”

“Right…”

“The candidates for the throne are what the demonfolk call the ‘children of the Demon King.’”

“Huh? And how exactly is that different from princes and princesses?”

Sounds to me like they’re just saying siblings can form factions, but in the end, it all comes down to ability.

“My apologies, I misspoke earlier,” Shiki said. “It has nothing to do with bloodline. Hundreds of promising children are gathered, and each receives the Demon King’s personal education. Those children are all considered ‘children of the Demon King.’ The next Demon King is chosen from among them.”

Wait. Hold on. Does that mean—

“So, the ones we met before, they weren’t his biological children?”

“Most likely not. They’ve been narrowed down to four finalists. It’s possible the next selection will determine who ascends. Of course, the three who aren’t chosen will still receive prominent positions. They’ll serve alongside the Demon King to lead their people.”

That’s incredible. Blood doesn’t matter at all.

If a child showed promise, they’d be taken from their family while still young and raised as one of the children of the Demon King…

No wonder they produce so many talented people.

Still… to go that far?

It felt almost cruel, like they were saying, “So, long as you have strength and talent, your home, your family, even your own circumstances don’t matter.”

“The demons really have the ultimate meritocracy,” I muttered.

“Yes. Perhaps they had no choice, if they wished to survive. But it is extreme,” Shiki agreed.

“Even if it works… it’s not the kind of system I’d ever want brought into the Demiplane.”

“What happens outside is outside. The Demiplane is the Demiplane, Young Master.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” I nodded firmly.

“Young Master!” came a woman’s sudden voice. “The escort is here!”

“Mio, welcome back. Did you just beat them here? That’s what I call cutting it close.”

“I managed everything perfectly,” she said brightly. Her face was flushed, like someone who’d successfully leaped onto a train just before the doors closed. “All according to plan.”

Ha. I bet if I checked, she’d argue there was still one minute before curfew.

To be honest, I used to be like that too. I kind of miss those days…

“All right, all right. Let’s get going then,” I said.

“Yes!”

The next moment, our guide arrived.

No doubt about it—so far, Mio was enjoying this trip more than any of us.

※※※

The banquet was thankfully not a standing affair, which already made things easier on me.

The atmosphere felt… a lot like a wedding reception. An appropriate touch of formality but nonetheless bright and lively.

Of course, there was no bride or groom.

From time to time, dancers or performers took the stage, and enormous platters of food were brought out to be portioned and served. Mio and Shiki both seemed to be having the time of their lives.

For my part, I didn’t feel as pressured as I’d expected. I was able to relax and have a genuinely good time.

I owe the demonfolk some gratitude for that. They put real thought into this.

Still, the Demon King and his “children”… I could often feel their gazes.

It wasn’t malicious; they were the hosts, after all. Of course they’d be attentive to their guests. Even so, that constant awareness kept a faint tension in my chest, like a thread stretched just a bit too tight.

The Demon King himself made a point of addressing me every so often, drawing me into conversation.

The others in the hall—nobles, high-ranking military officers, I guessed—watched from a distance. Their eyes held a variety of emotions: curiosity, goodwill, uncertainty… and, here and there, a touch of hostility.

Fortunately, Shiki’s prediction had been on the mark: No one approached.

Honestly? I was glad for the distance. It made things easier.

That said, there was a little trouble.

It happened when we first took our seats.

At the table where the four demon generals had gathered, one suddenly stood up, eyes locked squarely on Mio. He stared at her, trembling violently… then, without a word, collapsed backward, twitching, froth bubbling at his lips.

It was the general guarding the fortress of Kaleneon, Left.

Strictly speaking, “stood up” didn’t really apply, since his lower half was that of a serpent.

When his body shot upright, stretching tall like a spring-loaded pole, I couldn’t help but think, Huh, does that count as standing?

Yeah, no. Not important.

Left had had the unenviable experience of being toyed with by Mio until his mind had snapped, and he’d regressed to a childlike state. Later, when the gods paid a visit to the Demiplane, Athena had fixed him and erased his memories… or so I’d thought.

“Apparently, trauma outlasts memory.”

From what it looked like, this was no mere lingering discomfort but a deeply carved wound. No mild phobia but full-blown PTSD.

“So, it would seem. I must admit, I’m a little surprised,” Shiki murmured.

“How rude,” Mio huffed. “To faint and froth at the mouth simply because he saw me.”

Shiki pressed a hand over his mouth, shoulders trembling as he fought down laughter. Seeing this, Mio puffed her cheeks indignantly.

“Guess even gods aren’t omnipotent, huh,” I muttered.

The hall had erupted in confusion, of course.

But we were the only ones who knew why. Even Left himself wouldn’t have understood what had just happened.

I thought seeing Mio wouldn’t matter since the memory was gone. Sorry, Left… this one’s on me.

And so, the demon generals’ table was left with only three occupants.

There was Io, the four-armed giant; Rona, the hornless woman with the sharp gaze; and the last one, a man who ate with single-minded devotion, like the feast was the only thing in existence.

I’d never seen someone so absorbed in their plate before.

He looked… almost hyuman. Probably demi-human, though I didn’t sense overwhelming strength from him.

That means… if he’s one of the four generals, then he’s like Rona. A strategist, rather than a brute-force fighter.

Great. That’s not exactly comforting.

“Well, well, Mio-dono,” Shiki said soothingly. “There are so many elaborate dishes being served tonight, and we’re being shown such hospitality. Let’s not sour the occasion.”

Mio scowled. “Oh, I am happy to be here, believe me. But that’s beside the point. What am I, some kind of monstrous terror that would make a man collapse in fright?”

Well, if you looked only at that little scene, Mio’s indignation was perfectly reasonable. But considering what she’d done to Left, it made me want to smack her with a slipper and tell her to get her head checked.

Though knowing my luck, the next moment someone would smack me from behind and say, “Well, you’re the one who handed him back to the demons, aren’t you?” So, I’ll just keep quiet.

“Raidou-dono,” the Demon King called out to me, perhaps noticing Mio’s slight sulk. “How are you finding tonight’s feast? I take it you’re enjoying yourself?”

“Yes. Thank you for such a splendid occasion. We’re having a wonderful time.”

“Your attendant, however, seems to have her mind elsewhere.”

“No, she was just concerned about Left-dono. If I may… How is he?”

“Mm. You’ve been worried about him, then… My apologies for that. From what I’ve heard, he’s still tossing and turning like he’s in the grip of a nightmare. But nothing life-threatening, at least. Not something you need to trouble yourself over.”

I’d been thinking of casually slipping Kaleneon into the conversation, but with this whole incident, that no longer seemed possible.

Of all times and places, why did Left have to be here?

Ugh. He’s looking at me.

The Demon King’s eyes were fixed on me, his lips curved into a soft, genial smile.

Not so much a “Let’s be friends” smile, but an “I’ve got something up my sleeve” smile.

I wanted to believe it was just me overthinking, but experience told me otherwise.

“Ah… ha ha.” My laugh came out stiff, strained. “Well, I’m relieved it isn’t anything serious. Yes, that’s good to hear”

“In any case,” Zef continued, “there’s still some time before the main dish is served. If you don’t mind, Raidou-dono, I’d like you to join me for a moment.”

“Join you? Where exactly?”

“Just outside. The balcony, there. I may have overindulged a bit, so I thought I would step out for some fresh air.”

As he spoke, the Demon King cast a brief glance toward the window.

The balcony, huh.

Well, that doesn’t sound too dangerous.

I glanced at Shiki, who gave me the slightest nod of approval.

“Of course. I’d be glad to join you,” I replied. “It is feeling a little stuffy in here.”

“Excellent. The view from the castle at night is worth seeing. Though, ha ha ha, in this city, most of the year is night.”

At his prompting, I rose from my seat.

Oof. A bit unsteady there.

The alcohol here was no joke. Whether sweet or bitter, all the demon liquor had a serious kick. Probably because of the cold climate.

If I get used to this, then order a watered-down drink in Rotsgard someday… it might not even register as alcohol anymore. Just juice.

Back there, the trend was fruit cocktails—distilled spirits cut with syrups and juices. Not bad at all, though more on the dessert side than anything.

I could sober myself instantly with magic, of course. But that felt like a waste. I’d finally gotten that pleasant buzz; why throw it away?

It wasn’t like I was drunk out of my mind, either. So, I simply followed the Demon King out onto the balcony.

No one else was there. Just the two of us.

The door shut quietly behind us, muffling the banquet’s lively noise to a distant hum.

The night air brushed lightly against my face, just cool enough to soothe the faint heat lingering in my cheeks.

Yeah… that feels nice.

“How do you find the night view of our city?” Zef asked.

“It’s beautiful,” I replied sincerely. “The lights are faint but all different colors… and for some reason, they feel gentle to me.”

“Gentle?” he echoed, and when he laughed, it was layered with feeling. “Hah… that’s a sentiment you would never hear from a demon. Refreshing.”

He doesn’t look particularly drunk. So, the “sober up” excuse was just to get me out here with him, huh…

“If my simple opinion is enough to amuse you, then I’m glad.”

“I’d like to hear your thoughts again. On your last day here, before you leave, look out on this same view and tell me what you feel then.”

“All right.”

“Tomorrow and the day after, I want you to see the demons—see us. To understand us, the good alongside the bad, if you will.”

So, that’s it. He wants me to look at their society from both angles, strengths and flaws alike, and give him my honest impression.

“I already think this city is wonderful. It overflows with the strength and wisdom of its people.”

“Mm… perhaps. But the truth is, this is not a capital city.”

“What?”

“To be precise, it’s no longer one.”

“You relocated your capital, then?”

“Correct. Think about it. With the vast territories we demons now hold, why would we leave our capital in such a harsh environment?”

“Yes. You’re absolutely right.” I nodded. Information about demon territory north of Elysion was vague at best; hyumans didn’t even have proper maps of the region. I couldn’t say exactly what their lands were like… but surely, there had to be places more hospitable than this.

“Indeed. In fact, we’ve built a great city on the coast, with a port. That city now serves as our true capital and the center of our nation. I spend most of my time there these days.”

A port city? Then why did we have to slog through days of blizzards to get here? If there’s an easier route, why not use that one instead… unless this place is ridiculously out of the way on purpose?

“You’re wondering why I called you here, instead of the capital,” the Demon King said, as if plucking the thought straight from my head.

“U-Uh… yes. A little.”

How does he know what I’m thinking? Was it written on my face?

I’d been doing my best to keep my emotions under wraps… or so I thought.

“Raidou-dono, you make the mistake of trying to erase your emotions,” Zef said, his gaze sharp but not unkind. “If you don’t want to be read, don’t suppress them—hide them. When you force your feelings down, it only makes you look unnatural.”

“I… I see.”

“Take earlier, when I asked if you were enjoying yourself. You could have managed with nothing more than a surface smile. There was no need to keep your face blank. What matters is learning to smile naturally, convincingly. With that, you can conceal much and smooth over the rest. And that skill can be learned.”

“Thank you.”

Why am I getting coached in social tactics by the Demon King of all people?

Still… smiling naturally, huh. Easier said than done. Sometimes, no matter how hard I try, it just comes out twisted. But if he says it can be learned, that it’s not just something you’re born with… I’ll have to work on it.

“Think nothing of it. Hardly worthy of being called advice, and I don’t intend to count it as a favor owed.” He let out a short breath, then continued, “Now then, where was I? Ah, yes—the city. This place is the vessel of our history. For centuries, it was everything to the demon race. That’s why I brought you here. If you had hoped to understand us as a race, you needed to see this city. The hardships of the journey were part of that.”

“Your history,” I echoed.

“Indeed. Even now, the customs born here remain alive within us.”

“For example, the matter of your ‘children,’ perhaps?”

“So, you’ve heard. Yes, our system of succession was born here. At least, that’s what the history books say. But it seems one of my subordinates has been loose-lipped. I’ll have to deal with that.”

“No, not at all. One of my followers happened to know of it.”

Though in truth, neither Mio nor Shiki ever said a word about it until tonight. Maybe someone was gossiping, but for now, I’ll throw some cover to the poor “loose-lipped” underling who might be getting blamed.

“Hmm… well-read, then. I see. So, Raidou has attendants familiar with demon customs. That is… impressive.”

Though he said the words, there wasn’t even a hint of surprise in his expression.

Does he already know about Shiki? Back when Shiki was still the lich Larva, he did have dealings with Rona. It wouldn’t have surprised me if some intel had reached the Demon King’s ears.

“It was purely by chance. Nothing more,” I answered politely.

“Perhaps. Still, it may be that some of the customs I intend to show you tomorrow and the next day, you’ve already heard of. Few demons know anything about hyuman society. Those who do are mostly in the military. For a merchant to be this well-informed, it speaks highly of you. Truly, you have good people at your side.”

“You honor me.”

The Demon King’s gaze turned outward then, toward the unchanging black night that cloaked the city.

“For countless generations, we demons endured this darkness,” he said. “But there is no end to it. In time, we would wither and perish. When we realized this, we gathered our strength, and we waited. Until the moment came.”

His voice was steady, but the weight behind it pressed down like iron.

“And when it did, I began the war. As king, I made that choice… and I do not regret it.”

He spoke his next words with his gaze fixed somewhere far away, yet I could feel the weight of his declaration land on me.

“At the end of the day, no matter who the land belongs to, we demons must have fertile ground. Otherwise, we will suffer, we will starve, and in time, we will die. Raidou-dono… if you had been king of such a people, what would you have done? A trifling question, no more than idle fancy. But I would hear your answer.”

The Demon King turned his eyes back to me, his expression far too serious for this to be a mere hypothetical.

This city… it must carry deep meaning for the demons. Maybe it’s like Kyoto for the Japanese: a place rich with history and culture.

No… the comparison doesn’t really work. It sounds like they only moved their capital a few years ago. Maybe I can’t fully grasp what it means to them.

“If it were me?” I answered at last. “Then… before laying hands on someone else’s land, I would search for new frontiers.”

“Seek lands unknown, hmm. And what if that proved hopeless?”

Eh?! I just gave you my answer, and that’s your follow-up?

“Why assume it’s hopeless?”

“Because on this continent, only lands harsher than this remain. Or because there are barriers no technology can overcome, leaving no path forward.”

“Then I would invest in developing the technology to overcome those barriers.”

“I see. So, Raidou-dono, you believe that war should be avoided at all costs.”

“Yes. War always leaves behind roots of bitterness. In the long run, I can’t see it ever resulting in true benefit.”

“Indeed, that is correct. But the demons were driven into a corner far too narrow. When we judged that no further northward expansion was possible, we chose this place. First, we had to annihilate the demi-humans who dwelled here, then we seized their land.”

So, they decided to take land by force, and the land they claimed was here?

Just how hellish must their former home have been?

And that goddess…

Damn her. Still cruel as ever. One day, I swear, I’m putting a fist right across her smug face.

“I see.”

“Yes. And we left no roots of bitterness behind.”

What? But… isn’t that impossible? War always leaves scars.

“They were all slaughtered. If you finish them all, no grudges remain. It was a foolish course, perhaps, but at the time it saved our race.”

Thorough to the point of erasing even resentment.

If you kill every last enemy, then, yes, there will be no one left to hate you. But…

I didn’t reply.

“Depending on whom you ask, you’ll get different answers, but at the root of demon society is a rule, a rule of power, to one degree or another. To put it bluntly: It’s survival of the fittest. I’d really rather not show you that side. But if we’re to continue our relations, the sooner you understand it, the better. During your stay, you’ll see customs and conflicts that follow that logic.”

He’s telling me this so earnestly… Maybe because he takes our relationship seriously. Still, it’s hard to stomach. Showing your uglier self like that is terrifying.

“I’m a little surprised, though. From what I felt, you possess considerable power. Hyumans aren’t the kind of species with overwhelming innate strength. So, you must have trained hard. People like that often come to accept the notion that those with power should enjoy greater freedom and rights. Honestly, I didn’t expect you to be so averse to war.”

“Avoiding war isn’t an unreasonable stance.”

“For merchants, though, war is an opportunity to rise and, more importantly, to make enormous profits. Don’t you see that?”

“I’m… not interested in profiting from war.”

“Hm. Yet in our earlier meeting, I seem to recall you saying something along the lines of ‘profit from war but don’t complain about the consequences.’”

I never said that. How did he get that impression?

Oh, was it when I was talking about keeping trade even if positions opposed theirs? That wasn’t an endorsement of profiting from warfare itself.

“No, that must have been a misunderstanding. I have no intention of taking part in war itself.”

“Rona was troubled by it,” Zef went on. “She asked me if you were planning to profit from war after all, since your words seemed different from before.”

“As I said—”

He raised a hand to stop me. “No need. Hearing it directly from you is enough. If you say it was a misunderstanding, then it was. We still have time to understand one another. My hope is that we can move forward step by step. Slowly, without haste.”

“Thank you.”

Good. No misstep this time. It really was just a misunderstanding, after all.

Now, here we were. Just the two of us on the balcony.

Ideally, I would’ve had Shiki and Mio there with me, so we could all speak openly, but realistically, no king would permit that kind of vulnerability.

Still, Zef wasn’t unreasonable. He seemed to have his own misgivings about the way demons seized their lands.

That meant… maybe now was my chance.

I reached out to Shiki telepathically. “Shiki, are you there?”

“Yes, Young Master,” came his immediate reply. “You’re speaking with the Demon King now, are you not? Has something happened?”

“Not exactly. It’s just… do you think I should bring up Kaleneon? The mood feels right. If I’m ever going to say it, this seems like the time.”

“Yes. I think you’re right. Opportunities to speak with the Demon King alone will be rare going forward. If you tell him now, you won’t be indebting yourself by asking for a private audience later. Just… when you explain, I wouldn’t advise mentioning the surviving Aensland sisters or the Demiplane. That will only complicate matters.”

“Huh? But if I leave that out, won’t it look like I attacked Kaleneon for purely personal reasons? Wouldn’t that make it worse? Shouldn’t I at least explain Eva and Luria’s circumstances?”

“If you frame it that way, it will sound as though you sided with the hyumans to help them reclaim Kaleneon. And that, in turn, would be taken as hostility toward the demons. Remember, we already aided Limia’s hero. It will be better for both sides if you don’t appear to be aligned with the hyumans beyond that.”

“R-Right…”

As I turned it over in my mind, I realized Shiki was absolutely right.

From the outside, our actions already skewed toward the hyuman side, regardless of my true intentions. Add, “and then we recaptured Kaleneon at the hyumans’ request” to that picture, and… Yeah. That would be bad.

Really bad.

“Instead,” Shiki continued, “tell him that you reclaimed it because it was your parents’ homeland. Framing it that way offers more advantages. The demons will learn something about you—that your parents were from Kaleneon—but it’s not information that could harm us in any way.”

“Got it. I’ll go with that. Thanks.”

No doubt I’d be helping Kaleneon again in the future. If my motives were misunderstood every single time, it would turn into a massive headache. Shiki’s plan really was the cleanest path forward.

“Think nothing of it. One more thing: The generals and others are starting to notice your absence. Choose your moment and come back here soon. Ah, and about Left. At the very least, make it clear that you, personally, didn’t invade Kaleneon. Say it was a rash act of your subordinates, out of loyalty to you. If questions arise later regarding myself or Mio, we’ll handle them then.”

“Thanks, Shiki. I’ll bring it up now.”

I cut the Telepathy and sneaked a glance at the Demon King. He hadn’t noticed a thing, or if he had, he wasn’t letting on.

Zef was still gazing out over the city, one hand resting on the balcony’s railing.

“Hmph. I may have spoken too long,” he remarked. “It was thoughtless of me to leave a guest standing in the night wind this long. Let us return, Raidou-dono. And… thank you, for indulging me.”

“Um— Your Majesty… There is something I must tell you. Could I have a moment of your time?”

“I invited you out. If Raidou-dono has something to say, of course I’ll listen.”

“The demons lost a territory recently, didn’t they?”

At that, the Demon King’s face registered the deepest shock I’d seen so far. “Ah. Near the place where we met, where the nation called Kaleneon once stood.”

All right. I’ll say it.

“That was our doing.”

“Raidou-dono…” His eyes narrowed sharply, and the easy manner he’d worn moments before fell away as he watched me intently. “Do you understand what you’re saying?”

It was fine; my thoughts were in order. I couldn’t be cowed. When it came to Kaleneon, I was the one responsible. There was no running from it.

“Yes. We, the Kuzunoha Company, recaptured Kaleneon from the demons.”

“Explain your reason. I know you have them. I do hope you’re not claiming you did it for the hyumans.”

“It was for myself.”

“For yourself?”

For a moment, the steely edge in the Demon King’s gaze gave way to a puzzled curiosity.

“Yes. Kaleneon is… where my parents are from. They met there, and they were married there. It’s like a second home to me.”

The Demon King said nothing.

“Still, though, I wasn’t planning on taking Kaleneon back at first. I knew how deep it was in demon territory. But…”

“But?”

“My subordinates reclaimed that land from your hands. They did it out of devotion to me. And I decided to accept the gift.”

“Was it your two retainers, Mio and Shiki? Or did others take part as well?”

His gaze was direct and penetrating, and his voice carried a clear, firm quality. However, there was no indication of hostility.

And that was somehow worse.

He’s doing exactly what he said earlier, hiding his emotions instead of erasing them. His face isn’t giving anything away, but the pressure behind his words…

“I can’t say. The Kuzunoha Company acted, and I accepted the result. Regardless of who took part, the responsibility is mine. I took back Kaleneon.”

“Heh. By the law of power, is that it? A doctrine demons live by, yes… though, truly, I wouldn’t have made such a confession in a place like this. A territory once held by a demon general, deep within our domain, taken by a merchant company? Even for one of your strength, Raidou-dono… it beggars belief. Forgive me, but I admit I am shaken. First, though, I must know: Why did you spare Left?”

“At the time, I didn’t know he was a demon general. He was injured, so I treated him and returned him to demon lands. As for why his memories were muddled, I couldn’t say.”

“Because he was a general, then. Between Kaleneon and Left, I would choose Left. In that sense, perhaps I ought to thank you.”

The Demon King let out a faint laugh, then wore a strange, faraway smile, the kind of expression that suggested he’d already seen too much of the world.

I began, “No need, really—”

“But still… troublesome. After this, I doubt I’ll find any rest tonight. It’s been some time since good liquor left me in such pleasant spirits, and now…”

I didn’t reply.

“If that’s the end of it, then shall we return, Raidou-dono?” He turned on his heel.

“Your Majesty, this matter—”

“If you were about to say, ‘Keep it between us,’ that would be impossible. Even I will not be able to swallow this alone. And besides, can a king even be considered a private individual?”

Of course. It would be selfish of me to ask him to keep it locked up in his heart. But letting the silence hang here would make me look weak.

“No. I just wanted to say I shared it because I chose to, after speaking with Your Majesty and seeing your character for myself. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I’ll accept that at face value. Come, then,” he added, opening the door and ushering me inside. “Let’s go back.”

Warm air and the rich aroma of food greeted me as I stepped into the hall.

Shiki gave me a small nod that said, “Well done.” A beaming Mio began rattling off a string of recommendations, praising this dish and that like a child in a candy shop.

I managed to say it. Somehow.

At least tonight, I only had to eat and then sleep. But if tomorrow held more conversations like this one… I wasn’t sure I’d survive it.

Chapter 2

This was a dream.

I knew it instantly, just from the atmosphere.

After the demons threw that banquet for us, we went back to the guest room they’d prepared. I remember locking the door, retreating into the Demiplane, and collapsing straight into bed. I didn’t have the energy to even contemplate doing anything else.

The last dream I’d had was about my older self—the one who supposedly created a desert. The dream before that… I was pretty sure I nearly killed Hibiki-senpai.

Or wait, was that the one with the microwave? No, that might have been Tomoki’s dream instead.

Ugh. This is getting tangled.

Fragments floated in my head, strange ways of using Realm, a desolate desert, familiar faces appearing and vanishing. I could recall pieces, but the rest had already blurred away. That shouldn’t have surprised me; I knew dreams were fleeting things. But these recent ones felt different. Like omens, carrying an unshakable weight. And this was already the third one.

When I wake up, I’ll ask Tomoe to help me record it.

For now… the fog was far too thick.

It rolled around me like stage smoke, choking the air. Where exactly am I—or rather, where’s the “me” inside this dream?

The thought barely formed before I spotted him.

It wasn’t the old man from before. He looked younger now, though still older than I was. And his expression was tight, grim, as if he carried the world’s weight on his shoulders.

Have I ever made that face before?

I was looking at a solitary park bench, like you’d find at the edge of a playground. And on it, “I” waited.

Nothing else could be seen.

It felt strange to call it a dream. It was too unreal. And there’s nobody but me. That thought gnawed at me.

“When was the last time we spoke like this, just the two of us, Young Master?”

What?

On the bench where “I” sat in silence, a shadow had appeared without my noticing.

“Tomoe,” said the dream “me.”

Indeed, the other person on the bench was Tomoe. So, this bizarre place… it’s her arrangement?

Tomoe had never once shown up in my dreams before. Nor had any of my followers or the people of the Demiplane.

“That expression… No, it isn’t my place to comment,” Tomoe said.

“You’re the one behind all this,” “I” replied.

“Yes.”

“Tomoe… I—”

I.

That word struck me. In one of the earlier dreams too, the dream version of me had referred to himself with that different pronoun, “ore” instead of my usual “boku.”

Even though it’s me—no, because it’s me—it feels so wrong.

“Young Master, please don’t say any more,” Tomoe said sadly.

“I haven’t said anything yet.”

“You were going to apologize, weren’t you? There’s no need.”

“Even at the end, I can’t win against you, can I?”

Win? Against Tomoe? And, what do you mean, the end?

“What I did was by my own choosing. I carry no regrets. Please, don’t trouble yourself,” she added.

“I” didn’t reply.

“From the moment I entered into a contract with you, I knew rebirth would no longer be an option. Besides, Mio is over there as well. She may not measure up to you, but she makes for enjoyable company.”

“If… If I’d been stronger. Do you think any of this would’ve turned out differently?”

“No. Young Master, even if you had gained power enough to take on the Goddess and win, I can’t say whether the outcome would have changed. Truly, no one can say.”

“But at the very least,” “I” shot back, lifting my head, “you wouldn’t have had the disgrace of trading away two heroes and Mio, right?”

What the hell is this.

Mio’s gone? Is that what “I” am saying?

“However,” Tomoe continued softly, “the Goddess may have arrived sooner. Had that happened, it’s possible not only Mio but even you might have died there.”

“Even so!”

“It’s too late to change what’s happened,” she continued, her voice calm. “You chose your path; we followed. We contended with a god, and this is where it took us. As I said before, I—no, Mio and I have no regrets. I don’t think for an instant that we would be better off if we hadn’t met you.”

There was no response from “me.”

“It was truly enjoyable. Far better than an eternal life of hollow indulgence. So, please, look ahead and walk your path. I will take all your pains upon myself. And when, someday, you come to the ordinary world, I will repay you then.”

“My path, huh,” “I” murmured.

“Yes. I will not pretend I have attained perfect enlightenment, so I have no right to speak grandly.”

“The way you’re talking to me, it sounds like you were worried too?”

“The way you’re talking to me”?

Something about those words clung to me unpleasantly. At the edges of Tomoe’s calm explanations, outcomes I didn’t want to imagine began to peek through.

“Yes,” Tomoe admitted. “If you wish, I will tell you. But promise me one thing: Never again let us be dragged along.”

“You’re cheating, Tomoe. You know I’d pry it out of you if I heard you had concerns beyond period dramas and your taste for all things old-fashioned. And yet here you are talking about not being dragged along… Fine. I’ll move forward. We’re so close now. I’ll climb to the top and bring back stories for you all.”

A smile tugged at the corners of “my” lips as “I” hung my head. It was the sort of smile that looked almost manufactured, tight, deliberately upturned, but somehow I knew it was real, that it reached whatever was left of “my” heart.

Tomoe’s expression softened. “Then… after you set your course, I found myself thinking little by little. If only— If only there had been others besides me and Mio to support you.”

“You mean other followers? I can’t seem to picture anyone else.”

“We may have been a trifle possessive. We enjoyed your favor equally, and so we were resistant to welcoming a new retainer.”

“I can’t imagine anyone else working alongside me. If I had to think of someone, maybe Zef? Or Sand Wave… or Luto?”

“Zef? He might do well. Hm, if your other retainer were a man, Mio and I wouldn’t mind.”

“I” let out a wistful laugh. “A third retainer, huh. That’s a ridiculous suggestion.”

What about Shiki? Is he… not here?

“Three or four would have been fine,” Tomoe said. “I once fretted over such useless, impractical things.”

“Even you think ‘what if,’? That actually makes me feel better.”

For a moment Tomoe’s smile turned lonely, then she spoke softly. “Then the time has come for us to part ways. I prepared this little contrivance for the unlikely case. If even my lingering thoughts could be of use, I’m glad.”

“Tomoe…”

My mouth went dry. I couldn’t take my eyes off the scene unfolding before me as Tomoe and “I” kissed.

It didn’t look like a first kiss at all. There was a quiet familiarity to it. The two of them were practiced—lips, faces, hands, even the way their bodies tangled together.

This was the most shocking thing so far. Tomoe and a kiss. I’d always thought of her as someone I could rely on, more like an older-brother type than a woman. Not that she wasn’t beautiful, she was, but I’d just never looked at her that way.

“P-Please forgive me,” Tomoe murmured. “Even though our bodies were utterly gone, I… I could not help myself.”

Their bodies were gone?

Of course, this Tomoe. The kiss stunned me, but there was a colder, heavier weight settling in my gut.

She smiled, a woman’s smile, and then, as if swallowed by the thick fog around us or scattered like sand in the wind, she vanished.

No way. Not funny. Not Tomoe. Not Mio!

I won’t let the Goddess kill them!You, what did you do, “me”?! What blind, idiotic path did you choose that cost you both of them?!

Shiki? Shiki, where are you?!

Damn it. I didn’t even understand the story well enough to direct my anger; the confusion only multiplied the questions flooding me.

Left alone, “I” rose from the bench, and that motion was the trigger. The world shifted. The fog thinned and began to spiral outward from around “me,” clearing like a stage curtain.

Huh? This place—

“Makoto-dono, we’re coming in.”

A room I knew, a voice I recognized… but from where? Whoever it was didn’t wait for my reply; he walked in and took his place at the center of the room, watching me.

Of course.

Zef, the Demon King.

“Zef-san,” “I” greeted, like they were on familiar terms.

“The loss of Tomoe is unfortunate. But I came to say one thing—”

“Don’t worry. I was just getting lectured by Tomoe a moment ago.”

“Tomoe-dono?” Zef asked, surprised.

“Yeah. She’s a worrywart. She didn’t even let death stop her from coming to scold me.” “I” laughed lightly, then the grin faded. “So, are you ready?”

“Everything is ready. We’ve just been waiting for you, Makoto-dono.”

“I see,” “I” said with a crooked smile. “Zef-san, you’ve spared me a lecture, but I get the feeling Lucia and Sari won’t be so kind.”

“In your position, it can’t be helped. You’ll simply have to endure it.”

So, that was it—this dream’s “me” had sided with the demons. So, that’s what kind of dream this is.

“Easy for you to say, when it’s not your problem.”

“It isn’t my problem,” Zef agreed. “The burden has finally lifted from my shoulders. I think I’ve earned the chance to stretch my wings.”

He looked younger than the Demon King I knew. His features hadn’t changed much, but something about his presence felt lighter, freer.

“Well, I can’t blame you,” “I” admitted. “But if you want to relax, it’ll have to wait until after one more job.”

“Hmph. I expected as much. Come. Once we leave this room, you must shift your mindset. First, you’ll rouse the troops.”

He opened the door and stood waiting. “I” strode to meet him, stepping into the corridor beyond.

Lifting “my” eyes to the ceiling, “I” drew in a deep breath and exhaled.

“Let’s go, Zef. I’ll have you serve me as a demon general to the fullest.”

“With pleasure.” Zef bowed low. “I devote my life to serving the new Demon King.”

“The enemy is the Goddess. You’ve steeled yourself for that?”

“Since the day I was born into the demon race.”

A demon king.

“I” had chosen the demons, risen to their pinnacle, and now stood on the cusp of confronting the Goddess herself.

“I” was far ahead of me. But only by sacrificing Tomoe and Mio.

My teeth clenched. “I” walked forward with unwavering steps, my face set with resolve. And I understood. Beneath that composure, “I” was furious.

And then—

The world groaned.

Cracks spiderwebbed across the corridor where the two of them walked, the sharp sound like glass grinding against glass, swelling louder and louder.

The dream shattered.

※※※

I didn’t wake up thrashing from a nightmare, nor was I forcibly ejected from it.

I simply opened my eyes.

As usual, it was the dead of night, the hour when even the trees and grass are said to sleep.

Give me a break.

That wasn’t a prophetic dream. The path I was walking in real life was nothing like that.

And yet…

If I were to side with the demons, could something like that really happen? Was that what the dream was hinting at?

The more of these dreams I had, the more convinced I was that they weren’t just dreams.

What I needed was Tomoe to record them for me.

She once said that memories don’t fade with time; they just disappear because people forget. If that was true, then she could replay them all for me, even the earlier ones I’d already lost the edges of. We could examine them properly.

No. Absolutely not.

I’m not going to become the next Demon King. I’m not going to lose Tomoe and Mio.

The thought was unbearable.

Taking down the Goddess isn’t worth it if it costs me someone precious. I’ll never accept that.

Besides… those three dreams, the earlier two especially, they all left such a bitter aftertaste.

Where’s my happy ending?

I reached out to Tomoe with Telepathy. It was late, but tonight of all nights, I needed her awake.

“Young Master? I thought you were resting,” she replied immediately.

“Oh good, you’re up,” I said, surprised and relieved. “I need to talk to you about something. Is now all right?”

“Very well,” she agreed. “I’ll come to your quarters.”

“No, I’ll go to you. Are you in your room?”

It wasn’t that I was lonely… but for some reason, I needed to see her.

“No. I’m outside, in the woods to the south of the manor.”

“Got it.”

I broke off the connection and strode out of my room toward the forest.

Why was she there? I went there sometimes myself to practice archery, but I couldn’t recall ever seeing Tomoe train there.

At least it wasn’t far; it took less than a few minutes before I found her, standing in a clearing with her back to me.

“Tomoe, what are you doing?” I asked.

“Training, of course,” she replied without turning around. “Though I guess you could also call it unravelling a riddle.”

“A riddle?”

Tomoe stood before a tree, one hand resting on her sword’s hilt, her stance lowered and steady.

I recognized it instantly—the posture of someone poised to draw their blade. And yet… what was she doing pressed right up against the trunk of the tree?

What is this, some new kind of meditation technique?

Tomoe spoke before I could voice my question. “They say that drawing your blade from this position is a form of training.”

“Drawing? But you’re practically touching that tree. If you try to draw, won’t the hilt just bang against the trunk?”

“Yes. Several times I’ve ended up cutting the tree down. I doubt that was the correct result.”

I nearly choked. No kidding it’s not the correct result. Then again, few people would have the problem of accidentally cutting a tree down just by drawing a sword.

“Who even told you about this?” I asked, baffled.

“Limia’s hero… Hibiki. She explained it as a ‘fundamental exercise in swordsmanship.’”

“Then why not just peek into her memories and see how it’s actually supposed to be done?”

“That, Young Master,” said Tomoe with a faint smile, “would make the training half as meaningful.”

I sighed. “You’re too earnest sometimes. Though… I like that about you.”

“Merely training with a blade is pleasure enough for me. It never feels like a burden. If I fail today, I try again tomorrow. If I fail tomorrow, then the day after. So, I devote myself every day. That said, I was about to finish for the night until I got your message. So, then… what was it you wanted to discuss with me?”

She finally turned and faced me, wiping sweat from her brow. On her face was a contented smile.

Ugh. That expression. It made the one from the dream flash in my mind.

Stop. That was just a dream. It wasn’t real. And I’ll never let it become real.

That was exactly why I’d come to see her.

“I want you to look into some dreams for me,” I said. “Dreams are still part of memory, right? You can examine them?”

“Of course. Recent dreams?”

“Yeah. About the last ten days. I think there were a few nights I rested in the Demiplane. Start around then, if you could.”

“All right. If you’ll excuse me, then I’ll start.”

“Don’t look at anything you don’t need to.”

“Of course.”

Tomoe’s hand touched my forehead. Hah…

That was a relief. Maybe there really was something important after all. Tomoe closed her eyes and probed my memory.

Still, drawing a blade with the pommel pressed to a tree, huh.

I’d never learned anything like that from Kuma-sensei—no, from Ishidou-sensei—when he taught me the basics of Iai. Then again, I probably hadn’t progressed far enough for that lesson anyway. My form was crap back then.

Tomoe said she’d heard it from Hibiki-senpai, but kendo didn’t really train for drawing the sword that way, did it? I suddenly wondered if Hibiki had learned actual kenjutsu somewhere. That would make her even more terrifying.

“Young Master,” Tomoe said.

“Ah, are you done?”

While I’d been drifting through useless thoughts, Tomoe had finished her work. Good. Let’s see what she found.

“There were about three nights where you had no recorded dreams at all… but on the other nights, there was nothing particularly odd.”

“Huh?”

“You were in the Demiplane on all those nights. You slept so deeply you had no dreams, I suspect.”

“No, that can’t be right. Um, there was the day I met Hibiki-senpai… and the first day we went to Gritonia. And then tonight, just now…”

“There’s nothing on those nights.” Tomoe’s voice was calm. “What sort of dreams did you have?”

“Stuff like me almost killing Hibiki-senpai, turning the kingdom into a desert, becoming the Demon King, and… you and Mio being dead.”

“Indeed, those dreams would be hard to forget.”

“Really, there’s nothing? Not even a trace of those dreams in my memory?”

“None whatsoever,” Tomoe said with certainty.

Impossible.

I knew I’d dreamed them. Even days later, I remembered every detail clearly enough to retell them. If the dreams couldn’t be accessed in my memories… well, they must have been no ordinary dreams.

And Tomoe didn’t seem to be lying or hiding anything. So, what was going on?

“All right,” I said with a sigh. “Sorry, Tomoe, for dragging you into this so late at night.”

“Think nothing of it. If you wish, Young Master, I can check again, however many times you like.”

“No, that’s fine. It’s not like pushing harder will help. I’ll head back to my room and write down everything I remember while it’s still fresh. I may ask you to help again, though, so thank you in advance.”

“My apologies for being of little help. But, Young Master—”

“Mm?”

“We followers won’t die so easily. We’re yours to rely upon. I hope you know that.”

“Yeah. Thanks. Good night.”

“And to you. I also—ah! Wait—‘if pushing doesn’t work, then pull’?”

“Huh?”

“Could it be?! Yes, of course; that must be it!”

Tomoe suddenly turned and dashed back toward the tree she’d been training against.

“Tomoe? Hey?”

“Young Master!!!” she shouted, eyes gleaming.

“What now? You’re not going to sleep?”

“Not tonight! As usual, your insight is in a league of its own! This is worth testing! My apologies, Young Master, I thought to accompany you, but I must continue my training a little longer!!!”

Her eyes shone with a feverish light. Sleep was clearly the last thing on her mind.

“R-Right… then I’ll go on ahead.”

“Rest well!!!”

Well… she wasn’t panicking in a bad way, so I decided to leave her to it. I had notes to take anyway, things from the dream I didn’t want to lose.

The first two dreams were already fading, but this one… This one was still sharp. I could record it.

All right. Back to my room.

※※※

Night had fallen.

After the grand reception from the demons, the staff of the Kuzunoha Company were graciously escorted to the rooms prepared for them. Though their schedule had been packed with events day after day, tonight, at least, was meant for rest.

Only Mio remained in the room now.

Makoto had gone back to the Demiplane. Shiki, taking his master’s place, had accepted the demons’ invitation to an “afterparty” and had departed not long after.

Mio’s sharp gaze swept across the room, searching for anything suspicious. Finding no odd tricks or hidden threats, she nodded in quiet satisfaction.

The demons’ nation—or rather, the philosophy it was built on—felt right to her.

Reverence for strength.

That one pure principle made all the difference, for it determined how they treated the person she valued above all others: Makoto.

Of course, her sky-high standards still found even the demons’ treatment lacking. Yet compared to the way hyumans, or the demi-humans bound to their societies, looked down on him, this was leagues better. Better enough to draw a faint smile to her lips.

“They’re far more pleasant than those fools who judge Young Master by appearances and their own petty notions,” she murmured.

Exceptions existed, but as a rule, Mio despised hyumans.

Weak as they were, they clung to the size of their herd as if it made them mighty, mistook the Goddess’s favor for proof of their supremacy, and strutted about as if they ruled this world.

Worst of all, they had the gall to belittle the master Mio loved beyond reason.

“What worth is there in appearances?” she whispered, her tone laced with venom. “And his role as a merchant? It’s nothing more than a mask—no, a courtesy to ease his dealings with their society. That he even deigns to call himself such is an act of consideration. To wound him with their shallow judgments, to weigh him by surface trifles… Truly, they are beyond saving.”

With a single sweep of his arm, he could annihilate not only his enemies, but himself, his loved ones… the world itself. No resistance would matter. And yet, because his outward appearance didn’t measure up to their standards, because he chose silence over bluster, they dared to look down on him. How could they even imagine such arrogance was permitted?

With a single word, he could claim not merely objects but entire nations. Why, then, should he be the one to show consideration for others? What could a giant possibly learn from the life of an ant?

It was meaningless.

It was unnecessary.

Mio often found herself thinking this way. If so, then wasn’t there some method, something that would teach those fools their place without her gentle master having to bear the stain of punishing them?

“But this place is different,” she murmured. “Perhaps because the Demon King understands the law of strength. Many here know how to show proper respect, not only to me, but to Young Master as well.”

She recalled their outing before the banquet, when they’d sampled food from dozens of street stalls. By then, people already recognized her face from the parade, and everywhere they went, she was treated with courtesy.

When she tried the famed iced dishes Shiki had told her about, the restaurant’s head came to greet her personally without waiting to be summoned. When she asked questions, they brought the chef out to answer directly.

On details of preparation, the sourcing of ingredients—every query she posed—they responded without the slightest sign of annoyance.

It reminded her fondly of Tsige, the city where she first began to learn cooking.

Rotsgard, the great academy city, had been nothing like that. There, recipes were guarded, chefs were dismissive, and her status as just another customer led to brusque, unpleasant treatment. That was hardly strange, but it was certainly irritating. Things had changed somewhat after the incident with the mutant variants, but still…

“Even so,” she breathed out, displeasure miring her voice, “it isn’t as though every citizen here is flawless. There are always a few who keep their useless suspicions. If Shiki handled matters more firmly, it would be fine, but… he’s too lenient. That worries me.”

Even among the demons, there were some whose very presence grated on her. Not threatening, just incredibly, almost unbearably bothersome.

They’d wanted to probe Makoto directly, but Shiki had stepped forward—quite willingly, after one glance at Mio’s stiff expression—to take his place.

“Haa… Young Master’s gone back to the Demiplane, so perhaps I should just compile my cooking notes and rest. It would hardly do to yawn in his presence.”

For a moment, she considered waiting for Shiki to get back. But she dismissed the thought almost immediately, turning to the desk instead. Better to list the dishes she had tasted today, summarize their traits, and then sleep. Tomorrow, accompanying her master would matter far more.

Shiki would report if there was anything important.

Humming under her breath, Mio scribbled down her notes, marking the foods she herself had found delicious and especially those that had brought joy to Makoto’s face.

Thus, the night in demon territory deepened around her.

※※※

“The Dragon Horde Scepter?” the demon woman asked, her eyes widening in exaggerated surprise. “You certainly don’t hesitate to throw around the names of terrifying relics, Lar… no, Shiki.”

“Rona,” Shiki replied sharply. “Young Master took your invitation seriously. That’s why he traveled all the way to the old demon capital. There’s no denying the experiment conducted near Rotsgard using the demons’ hands. If you intend to feign ignorance to the end, then the advice I give my master will not be in your people’s favor. Is that what you want?”

Not long ago, while investigating the abnormal demi-dragons his master’s students had faced, Shiki had uncovered traces of a lost artifact: the Dragon Horde Scepter. Alongside it, he had found clear signs of demon involvement. This is why he would not tolerate Rona’s theatrics.

Now, the two of them stood in a chamber within the Demon King’s castle. And they were not alone.

Also present were three children of the Demon King—the heirs apparent—two men, one woman: Roche, Sem, and Sari. Only Lucia was missing this clandestine exchange.

Even with the most influential figures of demon society gathered in one place, Shiki allowed not a shred of compromise. The air was entirely different from the cordial tone of the day’s conference.

Each phrase he spoke ratcheted the tension in the room higher, until the atmosphere hung taut as a drawn bowstring.

“Shiki-dono,” said the smallest of the heirs, Sari. Despite her childlike form, her voice carried the authority of her position. “I apologize for Rona’s discourtesy. But even we demons know little of the Elysion relic, the Dragon Horde Scepter. I swear to you, we have neither used nor possessed it. We acknowledge that there was an operation near Rotsgard, yes, but Demon General Rona was not connected to the incident with the demi-dragons.”

Shiki narrowed his eyes, his gaze still fixed on Rona. “Well then…”

Rona said nothing.

“I would rather not speak harshly to you, Sari-dono, nor to your two companions. But tell me, this ‘we’ you refer to… how far does it extend within demon society? And as for Demon General Rona, do you mean Rona Ionia or Rona Suto? Your statement hardly serves as much of an explanation, wouldn’t you say?”

Every other figure in the room stiffened at once.

Shiki had just revealed that he possessed far deeper knowledge of demon society and its structure than they had imagined possible.

The truth was, during the years he’d lived under the name Larva, he had gathered intelligence ceaselessly. Now, he spent it without hesitation for the sake of his master and the Kuzunoha Company.

Rona’s brow furrowed, lines straining upon her forehead. Sari’s expression faltered, betraying unease. Roche and Sem turned their suspicious gazes toward Rona.

“Cat got your tongue?” Shiki asked softly. “As Rona well knows, I was once the lich called Larva—ally to demons at times, adversary at others. Now, I have entrusted this entire existence to my master, Raidou-sama. I would gladly bare every last secret I possess if it would serve him.”

He let the words sink in.

Rona’s lips formed into a faint smile as she broke her silence. “I see… And that man, Shiki, he is the one you are possessing, is he not?”

“Heh. Rona, are you still clinging to that mistaken assumption?” Shiki’s eyes gleamed like cold embers. “You are wrong. I pledged my loyalty to Raidou-sama. This body was granted to me. This is my true form, not an illusion shaped from lies.”

“You, swearing loyalty to another? Impossible,” Rona challenged. “The Larva I knew bowed to no one, belonged to no one. You were nothing but the embodiment of insatiable hunger for knowledge.”

Shiki raised his head and smiled faintly. “Ah, I’ll grant you that. But just as you changed after meeting the king you revere, I too changed when I met the master I would serve.”

Rona fell silent, thoughtful, before finally murmuring, “We’ve had reports. The Dragon Horde Scepter is being hidden by resistance factions opposed to His Majesty’s reign. There’s no proof, but…”

“Rona!” Sari exclaimed in rebuke, but the tension between Rona and Shiki crushed her words in her throat, leaving her in uneasy silence.

“The resistance, is it?” Shiki mused. “If I recall, they were once valued by the former Demon—”

“Shiki.”

“Hm?” He lifted his gaze.

“The Demon King holds the Kuzunoha Company and Raidou himself in the highest regard.” Rona’s expression intensified as she spoke deliberately. “On my honor and on His Majesty’s name and glory, I swear: This invitation was not meant to harm your master. On the contrary, His Majesty intends to shield the Kuzunoha Company with the authority of the Demon King himself, even knowing its leader is hyuman. And it is not just His Majesty. These heirs to our future, gathered here with us, agree with that policy.”

“Oh?” Shiki’s interest was piqued.

The three demon heirs nodded in affirmation, their demeanors oddly reserved.

Even as he noted their reactions, Shiki weighed what he had not been allowed to say and considered, too, the one child conspicuously absent from this gathering: Lucia.

Multiple names. Multiple roles. Rona herself was a nexus of tangled loyalties.

Lucia’s absent voice lingered in Shiki’s thoughts, along with the matter of what Zef had tried to hand to Raidou.

The Dragon Horde Scepter still troubles me, but Rona refuses to be drawn into that line of questioning. As for Zef, what he intends to present under his authority as the Demon King, I can guess at a few things. Judging from the way Rona’s speaking, however… it seems it will be more than simple approval of our trading company’s activities. Something greater. Young Master will be pleased.

He quietly smirked as he imagined the tribute.

He also considered the heirs’ behavior during their formal meeting with Makoto.

These two men, though their motives are distinct, both intend to use the power of the Kuzunoha Company. Sem, especially. He’s fixated on our distribution network. From a military standpoint it may appear dangerous, but for domestic policy and trade? He’d desire it desperately. In a land of bitter cold, simply ensuring supplies would alter the nation’s fate.

Then the girl, Sari. Perhaps she’s meant to succeed Rona, handling intelligence. And the woman who’s not here, Lucia… if she’s close to Io, then her stance would be purely martial. For her, Young Master could only appear to be a threat. I see… Yes, it all fits.

Shiki was adjusting and expanding his mental map, weighing each subtle reaction. For him, Rona’s involvement with the scepter was already a settled fact. The timing, the scale of action—there could be no mistake.

The only question left was whether pressing the issue here would yield more advantage than loss. This was an informal meeting, yes, but not one where fabrications could be freely spun. Outright deceit would not be tolerated. At most, one could refrain from speaking the full truth or deflect by admitting certain matters were too sensitive to discuss.

“That was the intent behind inviting you after tonight’s banquet,” Rona finally explained. “To give you an advance word about the list of offerings. Of course, had Raidou himself agreed to come…”

“You would have prepared to greet him with that blue-skinned beauty waiting in the side chamber,” Shiki finished for her.

Rona’s lips curled wider. “Indeed. If that had been his desire.”

That had been close.

Shiki controlled his breath, quietly suppressing the chill that crept along his spine. If his master had been here and things had turned ugly… Mio’s wrath afterward would have been far more terrifying than anything the demons could devise. For the first time since stepping into this chamber, he felt a bead of cold sweat trace down his brow.

Judging from that exchange, Zef may try something with Young Master as well. But to warn him too bluntly would be unnatural, and worse, the demons might mistake it for a bargaining chip and use it against me. No… Better to leave it for now. There’s still time. We can investigate the resistance’s ties to the scepter later.

For the moment, at least, Young Master is in no danger. He may suffer pangs of conscience at the harsher customs of demon society, but… that will have to be a rite of passage. Personally, I prefer enemies who hide their shadows and show only their best faces. But so be it.

He had gauged the children’s stances, sensed their sentiments toward Kuzunoha. And from Rona’s behavior, he had confirmed she was still engaged in work she couldn’t even speak of in front of her fellow demons.

Tonight’s harvest was plentiful enough. It was time to withdraw.

“The intention behind your hospitality was clear from the outset,” Shiki said smoothly. “And if you are willing to stake even Demon King Zef’s honor upon it, then I shall, for now, keep my suspicions about Elysion’s relic to myself. For tonight, let it end here with only this message: ‘His Majesty wishes to bestow great protection upon my master.’ Does that suffice, Rona?”

“If you will leave it at that, I am very glad, indeed,” she replied.

“Good. From tomorrow onward, I expect these children of the Demon King will have more chances to act alongside us. I look forward to it. As for now, it grows late—I will take my leave, if there are no objections.”

“Of course. Thank you for indulging us for so long, Shiki.”

“And thank you,” he concluded, inclining his head. “Old acquaintances as we are, I can only hope our masters find a way to work together as well.”

Without another glance, the Kuzunoha representative turned and departed.

Rona’s face twisted openly into bitterness as she watched his back vanish from the room. It was the reflex of one who had been forced to acknowledge, in plain sight, the gulf between her knowledge and his.

Roche noticed, and the doubt in his eyes fell squarely on Rona.

“Rona. Don’t tell me—”

“Roche-sama,” Rona started. “No. There’s nothing His Majesty is unaware of. However—”

“The Kuzunoha Company,” Sem interrupted, his tone heavy with half-skeptical awe, “their capabilities extend far beyond distribution. Even in intelligence, they’re extraordinary.”

“Most of what they hold is likely from his years as Larva,” Rona acknowledged. “Still, as Sem-sama says, if that one were to collect information without restraint, even a few days’ effort would bleed us of knowledge on a catastrophic scale.”

“Not just Raidou, but even his retainers are riddled with quirks and dangers,” Sari murmured. “Contact without a plan is reckless. Abandoning them is unthinkable. We must learn more about them, no matter how little at a time.”

“Yes,” Rona agreed at once.

Yet for all her resolve, Rona would be shaken before the night was over.

From Zef’s lips came the truth of Kaleneon.

Kuzunoha’s arrival would unleash a storm in the demon capital.

Rona—bound to Zef in loyalty since long before he ascended as Demon King—took that storm as her burden and as her vow.

She would see it transformed, no matter how fierce it grew. She would turn the tempest into bounty for the demons. No, for Zef himself.

Chapter 3

“A goodwill match, you say?”

“Indeed.”

Zef’s proposal came the day after I dreamed of that absurd yet strangely ominous version of myself becoming the next Demon King.

He’d spoken of power so incessantly the day before that I’d been half-expecting something of the sort.

“So… you mean, one of us is to face someone from your side in, well… actual combat?” I asked.

My phrasing was awkward, but really, that was the gist: We’d be treated as honored guests, yet asked to fight for show. I had to make sure I understood.

“Correct. We’ll gather a modest audience. All I ask of you, Raidou-dono and your companions, is to fight as you would normally.”

As we would normally, huh? That sounds far too familiar.

I had a fair guess who our opponents would be.

We’d already agreed that if there was clear merit in accepting, we would go along with it. Still, how should I handle this one?

If I fought normally, I’d only terrify them. But if I held back and conducted myself with courtesy and restraint, perhaps that would leave the demons with a favorable impression. That, at least, was one conclusion I could reach.

“And who exactly would be our opponent?” I pressed.

“One of my demon generals, or someone of equivalent standing and skill,” Zef replied. “Make no mistake, this ‘goodwill match’ is merely a public token of friendship. If you were to unleash your full strength and draw bloodlust, that would be… problematic.”

“A token of friendship…” I murmured. “But surely, after yesterday’s banquet, your goodwill has already been thoroughly conveyed.”

After all, the Demon King himself and his highest ministers had hosted us. Not once had we been treated with disdain.

If anything, their hospitality had surpassed goodwill and edged into something unnerving.

“I am pleased to hear you say that,” Zef said with a satisfied nod. “Now, as for today’s schedule, the Spirit Shrine awaits your visit. If time remains afterward, you may stroll through the city or speak with whomever you like within the castle. Should you consent, the match will be held tomorrow. What say you?”

“Tomorrow…” I echoed, weighing it. “All right. I’ll consult my followers, but I expect we’ll accept.”

“Excellent. I cannot accompany you myself, but I shall send two of my children, Sari and Lucia. And do offer the spirits my regards.”

Wait, what?

“I beg your pardon? You mean… I’ll be meeting the spirits? As in actually meet them?”

“But of course.” Zef smiled broadly. “They expressed an interest in you, Raidou-dono. The Greater Spirits of Earth and Fire are not solely our allies but generous beings who do not withhold aid. Perhaps you may even find common ground.”

Spirits… Greater Spirits, no less. I’d never seen one in person.

They’d always seemed like beings aligned with the Goddess, figures best kept at arm’s length. In truth, I’d simply never had the chance. To meet them for the first time here, in demon territory of all places—it felt surreal.

“I had thought it would be more like going to offer prayers,” I admitted. “But if I’m going to meet the spirits… I confess, I’m a bit nervous.”

By the sounds of it, this meeting has already been arranged. Troublesome. Very troublesome.

“Your Majesty, the hour approaches,” came a voice at the door.

“Young Master, all is prepared,” another followed.

I turned. Rona had entered, bowing her head to the Demon King. Beside her, I detected Shiki’s calm figure.

Naturally, the king’s schedule was tight. Perhaps Rona doubled as his secretary while he remained within the castle.

“Well done, Rona,” Zef praised. “I’ll be along shortly. Raidou-dono, the escorts I mentioned are waiting for you at the front gate. I hope you continue to enjoy your time in our city. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Thank you for your hospitality.”

I watched Demon King Zef depart with Rona at his side.

“Shiki, is Mio already outside?” I asked.

“Yes. Mio-dono is looking forward to seeing more of the city. It seems she plans to explore the districts she missed yesterday,” he replied.

“I see. You might’ve already heard, but apparently, we’ll have escorts. Let’s get to the front gate as soon as we can. Sari-san and Lucia-san, they’re the children of the Demon King, right?”

“Ah. So, those two are our guides. Curious. To assign those women specifically—perhaps there’s intent behind it?”

“I doubt it,” I remarked, then shot him a glance. “And you showing up with Rona just now. Don’t tell me you’ve grown close?”

I could tell Shiki was baiting me, but lately I’d gotten better at brushing off his little jabs without taking them to heart. Call it progress. I wasn’t about to let myself be the butt of every joke.

“Fox and tanuki, trading tricks,” he said smoothly. “No matter how cordial it may seem, it will never resemble true friendship. Though in this case, the disparity in information between them and us—or rather, between them and you, Young Master—makes it hardly a contest. She seemed quite bitter over it.”

“Ha, yeah, women’s grudges can be scary.” I grimaced, then remembered. “Oh, by the way, the Demon King wants us to do a goodwill match tomorrow. Do you think it’s safe to accept?”

“Yes. We should accept,” Shiki replied without hesitation. “I have a suspicion about what they intend to offer in return. If I’m right, it will be something of value and hardly a loss to receive.”

“And that info came from Rona?”

“Indeed. Likely, she leaked it on purpose, hoping to nudge us into agreeing to the match. But since their aim poses no real harm to you or the company… best to take what is offered.”

“Got it. I’ll let Mio know too. Also, please make sure she and Left-san don’t end up versing each other.”

“By your will.”

Together we walked toward the castle’s gates, enjoying a rare bit of relaxed conversation in the morning.

Hah… Finally, I can breathe easy.

No matter how casually he smiled or laughed, simply speaking with Demon King Zef was exhausting in its own right.

※※※

“So, Raidou-dono, I’ve heard that you devote much of your efforts toward cures for curses and wasting diseases?”

“Yes,” I answered with a nod. “That’s where most of my research is focused. If you ever find yourselves in need of medicine, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

Sari, my appointed guide for the day, tilted her head slightly. Her voice, though still high with youth, carried composure beyond her years. “Today I was ordered to serve as your escort, Raidou-dono. Regardless of that, His Majesty has welcomed you as a guest of the nation. You need not trouble yourself with such politeness. Please, speak to me as you would to one of your retainers, at ease.”

She looked young. Among the children I’d met, the closest in age might be Rinon back at Zetsuya. Based on appearances, Sari couldn’t be older than an upper elementary student—ten or eleven, at most. And Rinon had started sprouting up a bit lately, softening into a more mature figure, which made Sari seem the younger of the two. Yet her way of speaking was so precise, so poised, like a young lord who had shouldered a fief before adolescence.

This world really did mature its people differently.

To me, ten years old still meant “child.” Yet Rinon had already managed her sister’s finances, worked to earn her own income, and mastered every household chore. Compared to that, my own childhood was…

Well, let’s not go there. The comparison only makes me feel pathetic.

“Even so,” I said with a rueful smile, “to speak to the potential successors to the demons’ thrones as I do with my retainers… that’s not an easy thing to ask.”

“I never told you to speak comfortably,” came another voice—Lucia’s, sharp as a blade.

I could only offer a weak laugh.

This one was difficult in an entirely different way.

When I addressed her directly, she would answer, always with a smile, but it was the polished, professional smile of a merchant sealing a deal. Beyond that, she took no initiative, no warmth.

Every so often, I risked a glance at her face, only to catch her frowning faintly in displeasure.

Among the four heirs, she was the most like a warrior. For someone like her, being assigned to play tour guide for a merchant must have been galling.

“Forgiv—” I began.

“Honored one.”

For the first time since our meeting, Lucia addressed me directly, without her polite, practiced smile.

“Y-Yes?”

“You are recognized by my master, Io. And by my father and king, His Majesty Zef himself, a master of sorcery and the spear alike.”

Huh? Not a scolding? Her tone was sharp, but the words themselves…

“I find it vexing,” she continued, “that I cannot grasp the true extent of your power. Yet, if you possess such strength, should you not carry the confidence and bearing befitting it?”

“Confidence… and bearing?”

What, did she want me to strut around saying, “Look how strong I am?”

“The strong,” Lucia said, “have inevitably overcome many in reaching their heights. The weight of those they stepped past—their thoughts, their struggles—must be carried, honored, and shown forth as dignity. To conceal one’s power is to deny it, to trample its legacy. That, to me, is intolerable.”

Her eyes burned as if accusing me of sacrilege.

“Lucia-neesama, such words are discourteous to Raidou-dono,” Sari chided.

Lucia shook her head sharply. “Sari, you’re patient, tolerant of Rona’s way of thinking. I am not. I cannot abide this man’s manner. That my master Io was forced to deal with one such as this is unthinkable. Surely he—” Her eyes narrowed. “Surely he relied on some coward’s trick.”

Ah. So, that was it. Being Io’s disciple, of course, she’d hate me.

Honestly, she wasn’t wrong. Forcing him out with that rocket-punch knockoff hardly counted as honorable.

Still, we’d already agreed to the goodwill match. If I could show my strength properly there, maybe it would clear up the misunderstanding.

“Those who shout the loudest,” came a cold, sharp voice, “are most often the weakest.”

Mio?!

When did you even come back from the food stalls?!

Mio had appeared with both hands full of snacks, sliding into the conversation like a blade between ribs.

“What did you just say, retainer?” Lucia asked with surprise.

“That one such as you, who lacks the standing or the power to speak of Young Master, has only words to wield. Fine words, yes. But empty.”

Mio’s tone was deadly.

Lucia instantly began to tremble, not from fear but rage. It was so obvious that I didn’t even need to pry into her thoughts.

If this escalates, it could get ugly. I should probably stop Mio now, before it goes too far.

But… something about this feels off.

My instincts said, “Step back, widen your focus.” Reacting blindly would be reckless.

Then I saw it—the oddity. Sari.

She was too quiet.

While Lucia barked at me, she had only offered the gentlest rebuke, then gone silent. No real attempt to rein in her sister. Strange.

Could this be staged? A little performance for my benefit?

Or maybe Lucia’s fury was real, but Sari was exploiting it somehow. Her mannerisms smelled of Rona’s schooling, which made that theory plausible.

In any case, I needed Mio not to take the bait too far.

“I train every day,” Lucia said, her voice taut with pride and rage, “under two demon generals, Io and Left. From the first day I gripped a sword, I never once neglected my practice. And yet, Mio-dono, you call me weak? If you will not retract those words, I will treat them as an insult.”

She was genuinely angry. Or at least, she believed she was.

So, Sari was playing opportunist.

I held my breath, waiting, watching.

“Left? Oh, my,” Mio replied, feigning surprise as she nibbled at one of her snacks. “To think you apprenticed yourself to someone of that caliber. My apologies, then. It seems I was mistaken. Not strong or weak, merely children at play.” She dipped her head in a parody of contrition. “I was quite ungenerous. I take back what I said.”

Lucia’s eyes narrowed, voice like a drawn blade. “An insult, then.”

“Oh my? Did you not hear me say I took it back? Do you have ears or not?” Mio smiled genially.

Mio. She really had gotten better at provocation.

Women are terrifying.

If someone dismissed my bow as child’s play, I’d probably snap back on reflex, too.

“Prepare yourself,” Lucia snarled, pointing straight at Mio. “There’s no need to wait for tomorrow’s goodwill match. Prove your strength to me, here and now!”

“Then steel yourself,” Mio replied coldly. “When you look upon your broken body, you will regret the insults you dared to hurl at Young Master.”

The air between them was thick with the crackle of coming violence, as if sparks of some ugly color danced across the space.

Yeah, this was the line. I had to put an end to it here. Especially since there was something else bothering me.

Sari, intent on watching the clash, hadn’t noticed it, but Shiki had, quietly probing in the background.

“That’s enough,” I said.

“Y-Young Master…” Mio stiffened, her limbs locking.

Invisible hands of mana seized them both, my follower and the child of the Demon King, restraining them firmly. Mio could have escaped if she wished, but she knew my intent and allowed herself to remain still.

Lucia, on the other hand, flinched in bewilderment. She’d been locked in tight as a vise before she could even draw her blade, and she had no idea what bound her.

“Lucia-san. Sari-san.” I kept my voice even and formal. “My companion has spoken out of turn. I apologize for her. And Lucia-san, there’s no need to bare steel here in the city. We will participate in the goodwill match tomorrow, as promised. Please, wait until then. For now, however, there is another matter that concerns me.”

“Raidou-dono… This restraint,” Lucia hissed, straining against the invisible grip. “This is your doing?”

“Yes.”

“When did you master such a technique?!”

“I’ll release you shortly. But first, I want to ask you both something. Those two large shrines over there. Those must be the Spirit Shrines, yes? Tell me, is that… always how they look?”

“Eh? What?!”

“What? Impossible?!”

Uh-oh. Judging by their reaction, this isn’t normal at all. The structures themselves were unchanged, but the air around them shimmered unnaturally, as though the scenery had been warped through a twisted lens. Like staring through an unwelcome filter.

At first, I’d wondered if this was simply how a place of spirits looked. But from their shock, clearly not.

I dispelled the restraints on Mio and Lucia, then turned to Shiki.

“Any idea what we’re seeing?” I asked quietly.

“I sense a heavy saturation of spirit power,” he replied, eyes narrowed. “Earth and fire, both. The two forces are swelling, colliding, and bleeding into one another, creating a field around the area. But as to the cause… that eludes me.”

So, an excess of spiritual energy, dense enough to bend the world’s image itself.

If this were some untouched wilderness, it might make sense. But in the heart of the capital? That screamed crisis.

“Just to confirm,” I said, turning back to the children. “This isn’t normal, is it?”

“Of course not,” Lucia snapped. “Like that, even offering prayers would be impossible.”

“I’ve never once seen the shrines in such a state,” Sari admitted, brow furrowed.

Great. Definitely a problem.

“In that case, we should return to His Majesty and report this as soon as—”

“No, wait.”

“Please, don’t.”

I blinked as both sisters cut me off. For once, I’d thought I had offered a perfectly reasonable course of action.

Lucia and Sari exchanged a long look, silent words passing between them. Then, as if reaching an agreement, they nodded.

“Raidou-dono,” Lucia said firmly, eyes meeting mine. “In the name of the Demon King, I guarantee your safety. We would enter this shrine at once to investigate. Will you lend us your strength?”

“My sister hopes you will forgive her earlier discourtesy,” Sari added apologetically. “We will demonstrate our power and serve as your guards.”

“Even so,” I countered, “if this is serious, shouldn’t we report to His Majesty first and let him decide?”

Lucia shook her head. Her expression was intense and calculating. “The warped space shows no sign of people inside. That alone tells me this was deliberate. The Spirit Shrines are always thronged with visitors. For them to be deserted at midday? Impossible… under normal circumstances. Only a handful of people knew we would be here today. That means this was arranged.”

“It may be His Majesty’s will that we handle it,” Sari said softly. “Raidou-dono, please. Join us.”

Her words felt like a net thrown around me, binding hesitation with obligation.

Still… what if this was more than a disturbance? A coup unfolding within the shrines or some other large-scale plot? Would the Demon King really put his heirs in this kind of danger when he had an army at his disposal? Unless he meant to involve us as well.

Going with them might win their trust. But it could just as easily drag us into a swamp we’d never escape.

“Hmmm.”

While I struggled with the decision, Shiki’s calm voice cut in.

“Forgive my presumption, Young Master, but this is a grave crisis. Should innocent townsfolk be caught inside the shrines, it would be tragic. They deserve peaceful, untroubled days. Not to lose their lives to such calamity. I believe Lucia-dono and Sari-dono speak from a sense of duty befitting children of the Demon King. My counsel is to accept their proposal.”

Shiki?

That was unlike him. Too altruistic. Too humanitarian.

Based on all our past conversations, I’d always assumed Shiki, like Mio, valued the demon race about as much as ash in the wind.

So, why the sudden “demon life outweighs the earth” speech?

“Have you lost your wits, Shiki?” Mio snapped, her eyes flashing. “The inhabitants of this city mean nothing to us. Let them die by the hundreds. It doesn’t matter. If these sisters wish to play hero, that’s their concern, not Young Master’s. And besides…” She bared her teeth, voice dripping venom. “You heard this girl’s vile words to Young Master just moments ago. Why should we raise a finger to help her?”

Mio, you’re going too far, I thought. I could feel the tension spike again, raw and dangerous.

“Mio-dono,” Shiki said firmly, “she did indeed speak out of turn. But now is not the time to dwell on such trifles. To ensure the swift safety of the demon citizens would be the true gesture of sincerity toward the demon race. And besides, Young Master would never call it a burden to safeguard lives.”

What on earth? Did Shiki achieve enlightenment overnight?

No, his expression, the gleam in his eyes, it was still the same Shiki I knew. Just as composed, just as calculating.

Hmm. Well, maybe I’ll follow his lead for once.

Honestly, if this got too complicated, my instinct was to wash my hands of it. But in this case, echoing Shiki’s “humanitarian” line seemed a safer bet than siding with Mio’s more… incendiary stance.

“Mio,” I said gently, “please let this go. We’re in the middle of the city, and if Lucia-san and Sari-san both say time is of the essence, then as guests, it isn’t our place to refuse. Besides, they’ve pledged to protect us. Let’s go ahead and help them.”

“If that is what you desire, Young Master, then so be it,” Mio murmured reluctantly. “There is no danger while I remain by your side.”

“A wise decision, Young Master,” Shiki added with a satisfied nod. “I, too, shall give all to protect you.”

“Thank you, both of you,” I said, before turning to the children. “Lucia-san, Sari-san. This may not be the tour you planned, but I’ll ask you to lead us on to the Spirit Shrines.”

“Raidou-dono,” Lucia said gravely, “you have my gratitude. Once more, I apologize for my earlier offense. Your courage is worthy of praise.”

“Raidou-dono,” Sari added, her youthful voice now solemn, “I swear upon my name and my life itself. You and yours will come to no harm under my protection.”

Upon her life.

Not the kind of words you’d expect from a child. The gap between her appearance and her poise was staggering.

I couldn’t help but feel a pang of admiration as my gaze drifted back toward the warped scenery cloaking the twin shrines.

Just how strong are Greater Spirits, anyway?

In the worst case, if it came to a fight, I could always call on Azusa, my bow. I’d managed well enough against Athena, so against a spirit… Well, surely it wouldn’t be harder than that. Gods are stronger than spirits, aren’t they?

It’d be fine.

And who knows. Maybe this was all just a mischievous prank. Some “spirited” surprise welcome from the locals.

Then again, with the Goddess being what she was… nothing would surprise me.

From here on, the warped veil loomed before us. Our path lay within.

“Well then, shall we?” I prompted.

“I’ll open the way. Wait a moment,” Sari replied at once.

Mio started to say something, but I cut her off with a quick gesture. If this barrier couldn’t be passed through normally, then brute-forcing it wasn’t wise. And I was pretty sure that was exactly what Mio had in mind.

Sari stood before the wavering air, closed her eyes, and began to chant—a long, deliberate incantation.

“Sari-dono shows great promise as a magic user,” Shiki observed. “So, young, and already able to weave her will upon a twisted space. Few among the demonfolk could attempt such a feat.”

“Thank you, Shiki-dono,” Lucia answered with pride. “My sister’s gift for sorcery is rare indeed. Barriers may not be her specialty, but she will succeed. Of that I have no doubt.”

As the two of them worked, steel and sorcery conversing with practiced ease, the two exchanged remarks too quiet for me to hear without magic. If they truly were sisters, then their pairing was efficient: sword and spell, front line and rear guard.

“There,” Sari finally declared. “Open!”

The warped air split with a shriek, revealing a narrow tear wide enough to slip through. On the far side stretched the same scene—the shrines, the cityscape—yet unwarped.

“Well done, Sari,” Lucia said.

“That was nothing,” she replied crisply, though the tiniest flicker of satisfaction crossed her face.

A touching sisterly moment.

“Let’s go quickly, then—” I began, stepping forward.

“It’s rather narrow. I’ll widen it,” Shiki murmured.

Mio’s voice overlapped with his. “Young Master, this way please.”

Starting where Shiki’s hand rested, the opening unfurled smoothly, expanding to a comfortable passage. At the same moment, Mio unleashed her power, shadows spilling forth and devouring the warped light, tearing a path twice as wide with brutal finality.

Lucia and Sari exchanged no words, but their silence said it all.

“Shiki,” Mio said coolly, “I’ve carved a path for Young Master. Use yours for yourself and the others.”

“We may as well all pass through mine,” Shiki began, then faltered under her glare. “Or… yes, two openings are fine. That works as well.”

“Well, uh… the point is to check the shrines, right? So, let’s just… work together,” I offered, but the words sounded hollow even to my own ears.

Naturally, I chose Mio’s path.

※※※

Inside the warped space, there were no monsters prowling about, nor were the demonfolk trembling in fear. But the area was in complete chaos, courtesy of the rampaging earth and fire spirits, dancing and shrieking like a mad festival.

If it were just ordinary people causing a ruckus, it might’ve been tolerable. But these weren’t people; they were dense, volatile clumps of elemental magic given form.

Dangerous didn’t even begin to cover it. Balls and jagged spikes of stone and metal spun wildly through the air, streaking like wayward fireworks. Vivid flames in every color exploded around them in dazzling arcs, more reminiscent of avant-garde pyrotechnics than combat.

Now and then, flickers of red and yellow light shaped vaguely like human silhouettes would flash into being—low-level spirits without self-awareness, appearing only to vanish seconds later.

Elsewhere, lizards a bit larger than skinks skittered across the ground, their bodies wreathed in flame. Tiny, dwarf-like figures dressed like they’d stepped straight out of Snow White darted about, swinging hammers, banging on random surfaces with manic glee.

These were mid-level spirits, if memory served. Some were said to possess self-awareness… others, not so much. But in this frenzy? There was no way to tell. Every last one of them looked completely out of their mind.

“This is… quite the lewd little spirit orgy, huh?” I muttered.

“Indeed. It’s as though they’re all hopelessly drunk,” Shiki replied.

“Very noisy,” Mio added.

That about summed up our impressions.

“What are you all being so casual for?!” came Lucia’s sharp reprimand.

“There’s clearly something very wrong happening inside the Spirit Shrines. We have to reach the Grand Altar—quickly!”

Lucia and Sari were taking things seriously, at least. They were steadily pushing forward, fending off chaotic attacks from every direction, shielding us as we moved. So, naturally, the rest of us were following close behind.

Not that we had much choice. Lucia refused to be talked out of it. She said she was going no matter what.

In truth, Shiki and Mio were handling most of the rear defense, neutralizing attacks, and clearing obstructions with quiet efficiency. But nobody was saying that out loud. Some things were better left unspoken.

“Um, at this rate, forget getting inside the shrines. We’ll be camping out on the stairs for the night,” I said, thinking I’d better voice the concern before it became reality.

The closer we got to the shrines, the more frenzied the spirits became. Judging by what I’d seen through Realm earlier, it wasn’t going to get any easier up ahead.

Lucia didn’t seem to possess the kind of absurd regeneration abilities Io did, so charging in and ignoring damage clearly wasn’t an option. Sari had plenty of mana and a good grasp of flexible spell work, but there were just too many attacks to block. She was constantly playing catch-up.

Maybe we really should turn back, I realized. Rally some troops. Bring in a demon general or two. With proper backup, we might actually stand a chance.

“Given how relentless the attacks are, we don’t have much choice!” Lucia called over the noise. “But I do have a few strategies in mind; just hold on a bit longer!”

She was clearly at her limit.

Nothing like the Lucia I’d come to know, but understandable.

If I remember right, Left was a master of counterattacks.

Watching Lucia fight, it was easy to see her influences. She’d inherited Io’s pinpoint targeting of enemy weak spots, paired with Left’s ability to seize the initiative after the opponent moved. A well-balanced, reactive style.

To fully replicate Io’s combat approach, you’d need his absurd defense and regeneration, too. Without it, there was just no way.

It would be like asking a mass-produced model to fight like a one-of-a-kind super robot. Not happening.

“This is proving difficult, Sister,” Sari said calmly, eyes flicking across the battlefield. “I’ve been running the numbers, and honestly… retreat’s our best option.”

Even her strongest spells were only temporary setbacks for the spirits. Every time she unleashed a heavy blast, another wave followed almost immediately. They were bleeding stamina just to stay even, and if they couldn’t pick up the pace, it would only get worse. Even I could see that.

“Then let’s fall back,” I said. “The situation’s clearly worse than we were prepared for, and we’ve gathered enough intel to make a full report. That’s more than enough to call this mission a success.”

“Unfortunately,” Lucia said, “there’s no time to carve out an exit.”

Ah.

Right.

Our entrance had already sealed itself, and giving Sari enough time to reopen it would be… difficult under these conditions.

“No helping it. I’ll have one of my followers open the path again,” I said. “Let’s withdraw. Lucia-san, Sari-san, don’t push yourselves.”

“You say that,” Lucia growled, pivoting sharply as her spear flashed out in a wide arc, fending off two advancing spirits, “as if it’s something that can be done easily!”

Her movements were still crisp, clean; her stamina held up well. But mentally? She was fraying. I could see it in her eyes, the tightness around her mouth.

Still, in a strange way… it was kind of reassuring.

For all her poise and power, Lucia still had those unmistakable traces of a kid trying her hardest.

“Please don’t lump me in with you fledglings,” I said. “This is barely even a warm-up. Advancing or retreating, I’m fine either way.”

“Oh, I will absolutely lump you in,” Lucia shot back. “In that case, by all means, show us your power! By moving forward, that is!”

“Forward,” she says.

Was that just her sense of duty speaking?

Then again… this whole incident reeked of a setup. Wouldn’t surprise me if Zef was behind it somehow.

“Raidou-dono,” Sari added. “If it’s not too much to ask, I would also like to witness your strength. If you truly believe retreating and advancing are equally viable, then allow me to learn more about the power of the Kuzunoha Company.”

“I see. Though… if this is for your education, that’s quite a different request than the demands you made just moments ago for us to demonstrate our power,” Shiki said, raising an eyebrow. “When everyone just starts asking for things based on their personal convenience, it puts both our Young Master and the rest of us in an awkward position.”

“Shiki-dono… I’ll admit I misjudged the situation,” Sari replied. “But under these conditions, I’m deeply concerned for the safety of the spirit priests still inside the shrines. If any are alive, my sister and I would like to retrieve them personally. That’s all I ask. I promise I’ll inform His Majesty of everything and ensure proper gratitude is shown.”

So, there might be survivors, huh?

Truth be told, I’d already sensed a few demonic life signatures deeper in the shrines. And a few places where those signatures had already faded to nothing.

“Hm. For one of the future leaders of the demon race to make such a request herself…” Shiki murmured, his tone pensive.

Sari said nothing. If the outer section was this bad, then the inner sanctum—where stronger spirits were likely raging unchecked—had to be far worse. To be honest, it might be better for everyone if we just asked them to turn back and leave the rest to us.

But no, that won’t fly.

These were demon lands. Charging in and handling things without permission might look like we were ignoring their authority.

Especially with the Demon King watching. I had a feeling he didn’t miss a thing and certainly wouldn’t take kindly to anyone acting without oversight.

“Young Master,” Shiki murmured, leaning in closer. “This might be a good chance to build a little goodwill.”

“Sure, why not?” I replied casually.

“Young Master, you’re far too soft on the demon race. And you, Shiki, are no better,” Mio said sharply, folding her arms with a huff.

“Don’t be like that, Mio,” I said with a smile. “You do want to be back in time for lunch, right?”

“Well, yes, of course,” she muttered.

“Then let’s just bear with it a little longer. Once we reach the Grand Altar inside this shrine, we should be able to figure out what’s causing all this.”

“Hmph. Fine. Nothing else to do then.” She snapped open her fan with a sharp flick, stepping forward. “You two, fall back. We’re switching.”

Mio and Shiki at the vanguard.

Me in the center.

Lucia and Sari covering the rear.

Wait…

When did I become the babysitter for the demons?!

Oh no. Oh no.

“Well then, Raidou-dono, let us see this strength of yours,” Lucia said, her tone cold. “If both my father and my master recognize it, surely even your followers should reflect some of that power.”

Yeah, no doubt about it now. She hates me.

“My apologies for the earlier comment,” Sari said quietly, stepping up beside her. “If nothing else, Raidou-dono… we will protect you.”

Right. Sure, you will.

Let’s be honest. I’m not the one who needs protecting here.

I quietly spread my construct between the girls and myself. If they asked, I’d just say it was a barrier.

“No need to worry about me,” I said, waving a hand. “What you could do is think about how to protect the survivors. There are still a few people alive in there.”

“You can sense them?!” Lucia asked, her eyes going wide.

“Raidou-dono!” Sari exclaimed.

Their expressions changed instantly. Gone was the pride, the cold poise. In its place was only urgency.

“Then let’s make a detour before heading to the Grand Altar,” I said. “There are four locations. Mio, Shiki, you’ve got their positions, right?”

“Yes,” Mio nodded. “We’ll go one by one. But Young Master, you won’t be coming.”

“Mio-dono is right,” Shiki added. “You can wait by the stairs over there. We’ll get them ourselves.”

“Got it,” I agreed. “I’ll wait.”

I looked toward the base of the massive staircase, a few hundred meters ahead.

Behind me, I could feel both Lucia and Sari stiffen in surprise.

Better leave this to Mio and Shiki. It’ll go smoother that way.

“Then allow me to bring things to a quiet close,” Mio said coolly. “Shiki, you can handle the rest after that.”

“With pleasure.”

Mio took center stage, folding her fan shut. Around her, an invisible web began to unfurl—an intricate, spider-silk domain that stretched out in all directions. No chant, no dramatic incantation. Just closed eyes and stillness.

That’s her version of spellcasting, I reminded myself. She looks like she’s doing nothing… and then boom. Some outrageous technique comes flying out of nowhere.

Noticing her movements, Shiki began his own preparations. His incantation was low and steady, barely audible. Tiny orange motes of light, no bigger than grains of sand, began to appear in the air around him, scattering outward in a quiet, growing network.

His domain was subtler, almost invisible if you weren’t paying attention.

“All right, then,” I said, turning back to the others. “Shall we go? Keep up; we’ll move at a light jog.”

“A… jog?” Lucia asked, looking at the spirits of fire and earth. “Raidou-dono, how exactly do you plan to do that—in this chaos?”

“You’ll see,” I said simply. Just then, I felt Mio’s power activate. “Ah, look. There it is.”

Snap.

Her fan closed with a sharp, satisfying click.

In that instant—

The entire ground gave one deep rumble.

Just like that, everything fell silent.

For us, it was as simple as that. One moment chaos, the next, calm.

Unfortunately, for the spirits that had been rampaging moments ago… it was annihilation.

“There are still a few stragglers,” Mio said, her voice as chilly as her gaze. “Nothing impressive, though. Unrefined scraps, really. Not even worth savoring. But any creature that dares frolic so shamelessly before Young Master deserves this.”

Splut. Splut.

Masses of fire and stone dropped lifelessly to the ground with wet, irregular thuds. Flames flickered, cracked, and went out. Fragments of metal cracked and dulled on impact.

The lizards and tiny dwarf-like spirits fared no better. Many bore gaping wounds, as if some great invisible maw had torn chunks from their bodies. Their remnants twitched once, then dissolved, swallowed by the darkness creeping out from their injuries.

A few still scurried through the dust or drifted in the air, but even they—

“I’ll handle the rest,” Shiki said calmly, lifting his black staff and tapping it once against the earth.

It was one of his signature moves. Simple, elegant, and deceptively powerful.

Techniques like that often grew stronger when performed in a caster’s preferred style. And for Shiki, that dramatic little tap? Yeah, it definitely counted.

I’d caught a bit of his chant earlier: “The earth becomes dust upon the wind; the flame turns to ash upon the tide.”

Apparently, he’d crafted the spell to eliminate spirits of differing elemental types all at once. Efficient. Ruthless.

“Ah…” Sari’s voice slipped out, a breath more than a word, caught halfway between awe and disbelief.

As if triggered by her faint exhale, the last remaining spirits froze in mid-motion, their forms shattering like brittle ice—or else were torn to shreds by invisible forces, vanishing in a storm of fragments.

Perfect execution.

“Then, we’ll return straightaway,” Shiki said smoothly.

He and Mio offered a respectful nod, then split off in opposite directions, heading toward the four locations we’d discussed earlier.

“Well then, let’s be on our way as well,” I said casually. “The area’s been cleared, but if the spirits are this restless, they’ll likely respawn soon.”

Just like when they first entered the shrine, a strange silence had settled over Sari and Lucia.

Weird. I’m pretty sure demon generals could pull this off, right?

If it were Io, she’d already be halfway through the shrine by now, shrugging off damage like it was nothing.

※※※

As soon as we found the survivors and made sure they were safe, we pressed deeper into the shrine of the earth god. The interior had been twisted into a labyrinth, like some kind of petty harassment.

Damn it.

I’d always hated places like this. Damp caves weren’t exactly on my list of favorite spots either. Honestly, I could only handle touristy limestone caverns at best.

Sure, the mysteries of the underworld sound alluring, but when you start thinking about humidity, temperature, and underground water veins… real caves are just—no.

Up until now, I’d been lucky enough to avoid being sent into a serious cavern in this world. That, of course, meant that I was suffering down there. It was cramped, dim, and, unless I was imagining things, kind of hot.

“Hey, can’t we just pick a spot and blast our way through?” I asked.

“Just wait a bit,” Shiki said calmly. “I think we’re almost there.”

So, that’s a no.

I could sense two high-ranking spirits—whether you’d call them “beings” or “people,” I wasn’t sure—but they were definitely up ahead. If I could just open a straight tunnel to them… The urge to simply blow through the stone was strong. But Shiki was going to make me wait. Boring.

“Young Master, as long as he doesn’t find out, it’ll be fine. Let’s go ahead and do it,” Mio said sweetly, her voice dripping with mischief.

“Mio, it’s not a secret if he can hear you,” I muttered.

“Shiki will be fine. I’ll make him act like he doesn’t know,” she insisted.

“Mio-dono, that’s unreasonable.” Shiki’s tone was still remarkably polite. “We’re here to investigate what’s happening in the Spirit Shrine. Please refrain from using brute force.”

This time, it looked like Shiki had the stronger argument.

Hm?

“Sister, this is real. The Kuzunoha Company’s only three members are here, yet they wield military power on par with that of a great nation. And despite being involved in an incident that might concern Greater Spirits, they show absolutely no sense of danger.”

“I know, Sari. But we still don’t know for certain whether Raidou himself is truly strong.”

“Two warriors of this caliber… I can’t imagine them serving a master simply because of bloodline or political power. Just like Father feared, Raidou is not someone we should ever make an enemy of. That’s my evaluation.”

So, that’s what the quiet was about—Telepathy.

Having expanded my Realm to confirm the position of the Greater Spirits, I’d caught their conversation by sheer accident.

Thanks to my earlier analysis of Rona’s Telepathy, eavesdropping like this wasn’t a problem anymore. Lately, whenever I deployed my search field, I’d been in the habit of checking whether telepathic content was properly shielded. Guess that paid off this time.

Still, eavesdropping feels kind of wrong, doesn’t it?

Still, if this is information warfare, then the one being overheard is the one at fault. Even Rona thinks that way. That’s why she built secure telepathy spells in the first place.

Yeah. Let’s just set the guilt aside for now.

“If that’s the case, then whether this situation was caused by some fool opposing Father, by Father’s own design, or by some other reason entirely, it’s still an incident of value to us,” Lucia was saying.

“I don’t think Father orchestrated this himself. But he might have deliberately left it to us to measure Raidou’s strength without getting involved,” Sari replied.

“Even if it means offering up high-level spirits and our lives as bait?”

“Spirits aside, if we can gauge Raidou’s power and tendencies, then Father would surely…”

“Yes. Either way, the chance of either one of us being chosen as Demon King is low. We may have ability, but as women there are… other uses for us.”

“Yeah. Someday, we’ll be married off to stabilize politics or cement ties with another powerful demi-human faction. That’s how we’ll support the demon race.”

“Ah. So, you think so too, Sari. It’s not like we’ve never had a queen before, but there haven’t been many. And our brothers are particularly skilled at politics.”

Wow, that’s a pretty heavy telepathic conversation they’re having.

Thanks to Mio and Shiki’s efforts, we’d managed to rescue just under ten survivors so far. Unfortunately, there were no others left.

With protective barriers set over everyone, even the two demon girls seemed to have let their guard down a little.

Perhaps they realized that from here on, it wouldn’t be a showdown of raw power, so they didn’t see a role for themselves. At least, neither of them had the strength yet to go toe-to-toe with a Greater Dragon or a Greater Spirit.

“Raidou. If he really does have this much power, then everything we’ve seen so far could be a fake. It’s reasonable to assume he approached us with deep strategy.”

OK, so Lucia is quite wary of me. Fair enough, but maybe she’s overestimating me a little.

A fake is a fake, but honestly, I think the truth is the opposite of what Lucia imagines.

Pathetic, really.

“Well, that’s uncertain, but we may need to prepare ourselves,” Sari replied.

“Sari, were you made the guide today because of your answer last night when Father asked how you felt about marrying Raidou?”

I choked and started coughing.

Wha— Marrying?!

“I hesitated, and Sister rejected him outright.”

Hesitated… Hesitated.

To put off deciding—in other words, not a no.

Not a no?!

No way…

Seriously, though, I couldn’t marry a kid!

That wouldn’t be ethical.

Even in fiction, I usually avoided that route. Thinking about it for real… yeah, impossible.

“If you won’t become his bride, at least be useful by gathering information,” Lucia suggested. “If it comes to it, die as Raidou’s shield and improve our people’s standing. That’s what Father meant.”

“Or maybe he hopes that seeing Raidou’s power will change our minds.”

“Hah. This one is completely unreasonable. I know I’ll never be able to beat him. I can’t force him to take a stance; before I make a move, he’ll be gone without a trace. But there’s something about his attitude. He doesn’t boast about his strength, and there’s a lightness to him that irritates me…”

“It’s not quite that Raidou dismisses his own strength… To me, he seems more like an utterly ordinary man who just happens to wield great power.”

“All the more dangerous, then. If someone with that mindset wields such force day by day, the world won’t be able to withstand it.”

“Exactly. Which is why Raidou needs someone. Someone who can keep that power from ever turning against the demon race.”

“You mean me or you? But judging by our ages, unless Raidou has some very peculiar tastes, I’d say that role would fall to me.”

I do not have those tastes! Just then, I caught a presence.

Wait, that reaction… could it be coming from them instead?

“Sister, you’re destined to lead the next generation of our army. Ideally, he would respond to me instead…”

“Sari, you’re vital too. With information becoming the backbone of both diplomacy and domestic affairs, you’ll need to stand alongside Rona someday. Compared to that, Io and Left are still active, and with my master commanding the army, there’s little cause for worry… If you’re to become a political tool as a queen consort eventually, then perhaps being given to a man whose strength rivals that of a sovereign wouldn’t be so—”

I knew it! I thought as I shifted my focus from the telepathic chatter to the fast-approaching signal. The spirits are coming this way!

“Mio, Shiki! Looks like they’re coming to us!”

“My, that saves us the trouble of silencing Shiki and breaking through a wall,” Mio said, delighted.

“Indeed… Though if possible, the place they call the Grand Altar would offer more space and be better suited for what we must do,” Shiki replied thoughtfully.

I nodded, considering. True. But in that case…

“We know their route. Let’s push them back toward it. I’ll take care of it.”

I replayed the movement traces in my mind, piecing together their trajectory. Since this was the Earth Spirit Shrine, the ones rushing toward us had to be earth spirits, probably high-ranking ones.

Not that it really matters either way.

“I’ll do it,” Mio declared, already brimming with eagerness.

“Looks like a giant one. You two, keep Lucia-san and Sari-san safe,” I called out.

The thing really was massive. About the size Mio had been back when she’d turned into a spider, or maybe even a bit bigger. Like a heavy-duty truck but alive.

I’d never actually seen what a Greater Spirit looked like, but with something this big, there was no way I was mistaking it.

“It’ll probably smash through that wall right there… Wait, a bull?!” I exclaimed.

Enormous.

I mean, I had expected something along those lines, but still—a bull?!

The creature burst through the wall with a thunderous crash. It stomped the ground with its forelegs the moment it saw us, kicking up clouds of dust. Its shape and stance really did resemble a bull, and although I’d never been to a bullfight, I wondered if this was what it felt like.

But then… There were differences.

Instead of hooves, cruelly sharp, hooked claws dug into the stone. A thick mane crowned the spirit’s neck, and from its jaws jutted enormous saber-like fangs, gleaming in the dim light. Its whole body was covered in slick, black hide that looked hard as armor. The horns were bull-like but thicker, sharper, more predatory. Its eyes burned with a wild, feverish light, devoid of reason.

This is a Greater Spirit?

From what Tomoe had told me, spirits were supposed to be beings who served the Goddess—transcendent entities, spoken of in the same breath as Greater Dragons. But every spirit we’ve seen so far… not one has been capable of proper communication!

Suddenly, the monster’s eyes flared even brighter.

“Damn! Mio, erase it!” I ordered.

“Yes!”

There was no time to even check whether she could.

I started throwing up a protective barrier around everyone, but Shiki was already in motion. Of course. A dependable subordinate like him. What more could I ask for?

The ground and walls began to blacken, twisting into sharp protrusions that surged toward us like a tide of blades.

With a flick of her closed fan, Mio brushed one of the blackened spikes. The entire barrage shattered into glittering fragments.

She made it in time! Of course she did. That’s Mio for you.

“Shiki!” I shouted. “Protect the two of them while you cover our rear. Mio, stay right behind me. If it tries anything, cancel it before it activates!”

“As you command,” Shiki replied, already shifting into position.

“Leave it to me, Young Master,” Mio chimed in, her eyes glinting with anticipation.

Barely got the orders out in time.

The Greater Spirit dipped its head like a bull ready to charge, its horns writhing like living things, twisting toward me.

Whoa, that’s actually kind of cool. Are those horns adjustable—wait, it’s charging?!

If it’s a contest of strength, there’s no problem. Let’s see if we can shove it right back to the altar.

“What, he’s planning to catch that?!”

“That’s insane…”

I ignored the two demon girls’ shouts. Instead, as the Super-Bull (working title) barreled toward me, I charged straight at it.

Deploying my mana construct, I came to a halt just before it reached me. As the spirit’s massive head loomed, the two razor-sharp horns slashing down like scythes, I seized them with both glowing hands.

The creature’s huge frame quivered for an instant, then stopped dead in front of me.

“Wha… but the size difference!” Lucia murmured. “That body, it’s impossible…”

“He didn’t even deploy a single spell structure, and he still stopped it?” Sari asked.

“Well then, honored Greater Spirit,” I said evenly, gripping tighter. “How about we escort you back to your room?”

Damn. It dug all four legs into the ground, straining against me. But this was just a tug-of-war.

Once the balance tipped, the rest was easy.

“It stopped moving. No, he’s actually pushing it back, little by little! But how?”

“Wait, could that be the materialized, tactile mana constructs from that report? Even concealed… could they be that strong?”

The Super-Bull shook its head violently left and right, trying to pry free. It probably hated having its horns grabbed. I just kept pushing.

Its stance began to crumble. Once footing starts to fail, the only option is retreat. I still had energy to spare.

All right.

“Mio, Shiki, Lucia-san, Sari-san, push with me. Drive it all the way back to the altar and stay behind me,” I ordered, planting my feet and channeling everything into my legs.

No matter how it dug in and tried to surge, its massive head wouldn’t budge forward; instead, the rest of its body was sinking back, inch by stubborn inch. The moment panic flickered in its eyes, I unleashed the power I’d been holding and shoved it the way it had come—slow at first, then gaining speed, until the final motion matched the force of its original charge.

Several minutes later, we’d sent the Super-Bull all the way back to the Grand Altar.

“Push out victory! Just kidding.” I couldn’t help grinning. “Would’ve made Tomoe proud.”

A satisfied warmth rolled over me, the kind you get when something difficult finally clicks into place.

“Indeed. Excellent work,” Shiki said, measured and approving.

“You were right, Shiki; it is spacious. But not exactly wide enough for something like this. Might be a little cramped to finish it off here,” Mio observed.

While we were all chatting and catching our breath, the two demon girls had gone silent. They might have been talking telepathically, but I wasn’t about to eavesdrop in the middle of a fight.

The Super-Bull rose again, still glaring at us and attempting some action, but every time it tried, Mio nullified the effect. Nothing actually triggered.

“All right. Shiki, you handle recon. I’ll keep Lucia-san and Sari-san safe; Mio, calm that spirit down a bit. It looks… overexcited.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

“Got it. But Young Master, are you sure we shouldn’t just finish it off?” Mio asked.

“No. Absolutely not. Just knock it back to sanity. Don’t kill it.”

“I was hoping you’d say ‘go ahead,’” Mio said sadly.

Say what?!

That’s a spirit we’re talking about! A Greater Spirit, no less—so it’s probably a big deal. Even I understand we need to hear it out properly before deciding what to do. If the Goddess complains about it later, that will be a pain.

Speaking of which, she’s been awfully quiet lately.

When Susanoo-sama and company visited the Demiplane, they mentioned they’d lectured her and slapped her with some restrictions. What kind of restrictions could even work on her?

I’m scared just trying to imagine that.

That day, I ended up getting pummeled into complete immobility by Athena in a business suit. And she’d acted like the lowest-ranking junior among them. If even she had that kind of strength… Yeah.

Gods are seriously terrifying.

Except for that bug goddess. She doesn’t count.

“Young Master!” Shiki’s voice cut in suddenly, tinged with alarm.

“What is it, Shiki?”

“Something’s coming from the side as well!”

The side?

“The Greater Fire Spirit, too?!”

Lucia’s eyes widened at Shiki’s words.

“Not just the Behemoth, but the Phoenix as well? If both of them are here, the capital could be reduced to ash. We assumed the distortions in space were the limit—that at least the Greater Spirits themselves hadn’t gone mad. That’s why we judged we could handle this with just the two of us. But why does everything keep turning against us? Why… why this?!”

So, that’s the Behemoth, huh.

Sorry for calling you “Super-Bull” without permission.

But hey, so the other one’s Phoenix. No wonder. Up until now, they were only labeled “Greater Spirits,” so I had no idea which was which. Learning their names felt like a small win.

Also, if this means I won’t have to run this dungeon again later… honestly, I’m pretty relieved.

Thanks for the interruption. Seriously, much appreciated!

“One less maze to deal with. A lucky break for once. All right, Shiki, you take the Phoenix and—”

“Shiki, you handle the bull. I’ll take the bird,” Mio cut in suddenly.

“Huh? Mio?”

Where did that come from? What happened to her dealing with the Behemoth?

At that moment, the Behemoth succeeded in its mission of shredding the black net that was holding it. The thing looked even angrier now. Great. And now Mio wants to swap targets, right when Shiki’s already engaged? That has to be confusing.

“Ah, well… if anything, it would be safer for Young Master and Mio-dono to handle them directly…” Shiki admitted reluctantly.

Yeah, that figures. I needed him focused on the investigation anyway, so maybe I should take one of the spirits myself.

Mio, as usual, wasn’t listening.

“I’m just in the mood for a bird over a cow. So, we’re switching,” she explained.

I started, “It’s fine, Shiki. I’ll—”

“Shiki,” Mio interrupted smoothly, “isn’t this the perfect chance to push your limits? Or what, are you going to dump the hard part on Young Master instead? Time you shed that skin of yours.”

“I was going to say,” I tried again, “Shiki should be in charge of figuring out the cause—”

The air around Shiki shifted sharply as he cut me off for once.

“Young Master, will you entrust this to me? Facing a Greater Earth Spirit is no small honor. Please, allow me!”

Seriously, can I finish even one sentence?

Well, hey, if Shiki was this eager, then fine. I could always step in if something went wrong.

“All right,” I said after a moment. “It’s yours.”

Mio nodded with approval. “That’s more like it.”

Guess that leaves me protecting Lucia-san and Sari-san as planned.

“Then, Young Master, I’ll just go roast—ah, I mean calm down that flame-covered bird.” Mio smiled brightly. “In any case, I’ll handle it.”

Not very reassuring. At least she didn’t say she was going to eat it.

Sari

When the battle with the Greater Spirits began, all I could do was watch. Watch Raidou and his followers clash with forces that should have been beyond mortal reckoning.

No demon general, not even Father himself, is enough to match their strength.

Each of them had taken on a Greater Spirit alone—one earth, the other fire—and were holding their ground. My mind was struggling to keep up.

The strength you imagine and the strength you see are entirely different things.

If I forced myself to find a comparison from memory, the closest might be Sofia. Her strength, too, was impossible to grasp. They said she and a handful of others brought down a Greater Dragon, but what I saw was someone who could spar with General Io himself, while still keeping cards in reserve. A monster in hyuman skin.

Perhaps part of my blindness came from my own tutelage. My teacher was Rona, the demon general who excelled in espionage and subterfuge. She was no frontline warrior, so perhaps I had never learned the instinct that soldiers share—the ability to sense true power.

Lucia, my elder sister, was far more skilled at perceiving individual strength. And yet even she couldn’t fully grasp Raidou’s limits.

Perhaps the truth is this: Our measure of another’s strength can never extend beyond our own strength.

That thought surfaced as I stood in stunned silence.

“Come now, bird. Too slow, far too slow!”

The black-haired woman, Mio, slid effortlessly through the air as she toyed with the Phoenix, her voice bright with a cruel sort of delight.

Apparently, the only reason Mio had taken the fight to the skies was to make it easier for Shiki, the other follower, to deal with the Behemoth on the ground.

The Phoenix was also called the undying bird. No one knew whether it was truly immortal, but Father taught me it was capable of regeneration that was beyond even General Io—among the very highest in existence. And indeed, as I watched with my own eyes, wing after wing was torn by Mio’s fan, only to knit itself whole again in an instant.

Even so, as I observed more carefully, I began to see what Mio herself had pointed out. The Phoenix’s movements were growing sluggish. If that was weakness, not just fatigue, then Mio was overwhelming a Greater Spirit.

That shouldn’t have been possible. They said the Phoenix was gentle in nature. Yet the creature before me was no serene guardian of flame. It was a storm, an inferno given form, raging with pure violence.

Had I stood against it alone… I would have been consumed in seconds, nothing left but a smear of ash. No, this was never meant to be an opponent faced by a single person at all.

Down below, one of Shiki’s spells burst and faded near the Behemoth.

“This doesn’t work either! So, difficult, simply because it’s the pinnacle of earth!” Shiki’s voice betrayed frustration.

In a sense, his struggle astonished me more than Mio’s dominance. The Behemoth was the Greater Earth Spirit, the apex of all things rooted in that element.

From Rona’s reports, Shiki’s strength came from the lich Larva. Lichs stood at the very height of the undead, but the undead themselves were tied to the earth.

That meant… no undead should ever be able to contest the Behemoth. Not alone. Not even close. An army would crumble to dust at a single roar. Neither blade nor spell should so much as scratch that body.

And yet—because the spirit’s immense might was clearly being suppressed—Shiki’s magic broke through. Some of it struck home, and the Behemoth bled.

The battle taking place before me overturned common sense.

“Thirteenth-Tier—Riesritza! Release First through Fourth Level! Wand, Sword, Cup, Coin!”

Shiki’s power swelled; no, his very existence seemed amplified, as though some profound reinforcement had taken hold.

Four words.

He gave himself four different augmentations at once?

All that raw force packed into a chant so brief? Impossible. Unthinkable.

It wasn’t just him. All three members of the Kuzunoha Company carried this same aberrant gift; their chanting speed was beyond belief. If even a fragment of that technique existed within the demon race, our tactical repertoire would expand immeasurably. Complex and wide-ranging spells, once impractical, would become standard.

Shockingly, they performed it as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

I blinked. Were those… At some point, four rings had appeared on Shiki’s fingers. A byproduct of that Riesritza spell, perhaps?

“Seventh-Tier—Hel, release and activate! Mist Shrine, Niflheim! Consume the beast and—gh?!”

The torrent of power Shiki had gathered collapsed in an instant.

The Behemoth’s horns twisted, both of them merging into one massive spike. Its eyes blazed. At the same time, a faint glow sparked on Shiki’s little finger, then shattered to nothing.

A failed spell… or was it disrupted?

“Ah, that’s rough,” Raidou remarked casually. “When it breaks at that stage, it won’t be usable for a while. The Behemoth must be acting on instinct, but it still senses danger well enough, huh. Or maybe that’s instinctual for it too?”

His voice carried not even a trace of concern, even though Shiki was clearly on the brink of danger. In fact, now that I thought about it, the only time Raidou had so much as grimaced in displeasure since entering this warped space was when the shrine’s interior revealed itself as a maze.

“How meticulous for a monster that massive!” Shiki’s voice rose, half irritation, half exhilaration, as he charged headlong at the Behemoth. “Its body screams brute force, yet it picks apart every spell I throw, one after another!”

He’s a sorcerer. Going into close combat with that thing is madness. Raidou was a special case—an exception beyond all exceptions. No other mage in the world could possibly do what he did.

“Ascalon!”

The short incantation rang clear. This time, the black staff in Shiki’s hand morphed into a massive sword.

His grip was clumsy, uncertain, but he still raised the weapon in both hands and brought it crashing down on his opponent’s horn.

A shrill metallic crack resounded as the blade bounced away. Of course, Shiki’s stance collapsed, leaving him wide open.

And still, he laughed.

“Sixth-Tier—Frey, release. Sword Possession, Sword Emperor Spiritem!”

In an instant, Shiki’s movements transformed. The cautious scholar’s precision vanished, replaced by the raw, untamed grace of a warrior who trusted in instinct.

The horn that lunged in to punish his opening was slashed aside, meeting a fierce blade strike that should never have been possible from the Larva I knew.

Absurd.

What was that first clumsy swing for, then?

“Such beauty. Such supple elegance,” Lucia whispered beside me, her voice trembling in awe.

She was right. Each strike he wove thereafter was breathtaking. Blades of fury and brilliance flowed together into a storm so beautiful that even my sister—who rarely praised anything—was struck dumb.

I, too, found myself drawn in, almost mesmerized, by that savage yet graceful swordsmanship.

Strike after strike, the Behemoth was forced to give ground, its hide marred little by little. Wounds bloomed; they weren’t deep, but they were real.

The Behemoth, like the Phoenix, could regenerate. Not as fast, but fast enough that its wounds closed before Shiki could carve them. If this continued, exhaustion would be his demise.

No… this wasn’t instinct.

Shiki wasn’t fighting blindly. His movements carried design. Tactics. A hidden shape.

And that made him, at his core, far closer to me than to some brute warrior who relied on instinct.

His swordsmanship, though… His swordsmanship was something else entirely. At first glance, it looked primal, instinctual. It made me wonder if he’d simply thrown caution aside and staked everything on his strongest instinct.

No… that’s not it. Each time I caught a glimpse of his eyes mid-battle, they were steady. Cold. Calculating.

“The spell-forged rings won’t work, but this much I can do!” Shiki shouted.

The Behemoth struck with everything—hooves, fangs, horns, even its sheer bulk crashing forward. Every motion carried lethal intent. When that massive body reared, its looming presence alone pressed fear into my chest.

And alongside it, spellcraft: torrents of near-chantless magic hurled like afterthoughts.

Somehow, Shiki endured it all, slipping past every death blow, never ceasing his assault.

Something was wrong.

He had spoken the count of his rings aloud earlier. One was crushed. By all rights, there should be fewer. Yet… there were more.

That’s impossible—

Kakiiiin!

A piercing metallic shriek rang out as Shiki’s black sword was caught, locked between the Behemoth’s horns. The weapon twisted, immobilized.

Bad!

I looked to Raidou without thinking, just reflex. Surely, he would intervene.

But he still hadn’t moved.

Those horns, they’re writhing like tentacles, sharp and unyielding. Too strong, too dangerous!

The Behemoth’s maw opened wide. Fangs as cruel as its horns lunged for Shiki, intent on rending flesh.

“Eighth-Tier—Ragnarök, release.”

His voice was calm as the monster’s jaws snapped shut. And in the next instant, the upper half of his body was gone, bitten away.

Ugh! My breath caught.

Why?! Raidou’s companion just got torn apart. How is he still so composed? If my judgment was correct, he would never treat those he considers kin with such indifference…

“Got it. Though that was close,” Raidou murmured, almost relieved. “If I hadn’t slipped Gemini in first, it might’ve ended in a double knockout.”

What?

His tone carried no despair, no sorrow, only a quiet satisfaction, as though everything had gone to plan.

“First Chain—Raging!”

The voice rang out from the Behemoth’s flank.

Raidou turned his head toward it, giving a faint smile. “Well, that’s thanks to all the groundwork you laid, pouring everything into mastering those rings. Steady training always pays off in the end. Good work, Shiki.”

Wait, Shiki?

Shiki was standing there. Whole.

But… I’d just seen him bitten apart.

When I whipped my gaze back to the Behemoth’s front, the form crumbling in its jaws was nothing but collapsing earth.

And from the real Shiki’s voice came a command: “Raging!” At once, countless chains erupted and wrapped themselves around the Behemoth’s body.

A restraining spell? A sealing art? To bind a Greater Spirit, it had to be some kind of lost forbidden magic or ancient curses of legend.

How many of these overwhelming spells has Shiki learned?

Rona once said Larva, the lich bound to him, was her equal. But from my eyes as her disciple, the man before me stood many levels above that. The Larva she knew was already the past. The Shiki of today could no longer be measured by that standard. Perhaps he couldn’t be measured at all.

“Shiki, no holding back! It’ll break free!” Raidou’s voice cut sharply.

“Tch! Second Chain—Dromi! Third Chain—Gleipnir!”

The chains multiplied, layer upon layer, until the Behemoth’s massive body was cocooned in a moving net of bindings, suspended in midair. They sprouted from the very sky, their ends lost to sight.

The beast no longer struggled. Not merely restrained by force but smothered under some higher power.

“Haah… haah…” Shiki’s chest heaved.

“Well done. To trigger the Eighth through the Ninth Gemini simultaneously. That’s incredible,” Raidou praised.

“No, I was just desperate. Anything inscribed in rings, I couldn’t make work properly,” Shiki admitted.

“You were still amazing. Against an opponent of the same element and higher tier, it’s bound to get brutal. I was ready to step in if things got bad, but I’m glad you didn’t need it.”

Raidou never once looked ready to intervene. He had been certain—half unconsciously—that Shiki would subdue the Behemoth.

And something about him was different now. Once the fighting began, Raidou exuded a steadiness unlike before. Is this… his true nature, as Sister Lucia said?

“For now, anything beyond the Tenth Tier is unstable at best.” Shiki rested his hands on his knees and caught a few deep breaths before continuing, “I’ll devote myself to improving, with everything I have.”

“Take a break for now. Mio looks just about finished, too. Once things settle, I’ll have you start the investigation,” Raidou replied lightly.

Mio…

Right. Compared to the chaos on the ground, things above had been strangely quiet. I hadn’t been paying much attention.

“As expected of Mio-dono,” Shiki murmured, calm now.

Raidou nodded. “Yeah, that should be her finisher. I’ve been watching. The Phoenix can weaponize its feathers. A wingbeat scatters them into flame, then it rains hundreds down at once. Up till now, Mio’s just been netting them in barriers and… well, eating them. But this time—”

As if on cue, the Phoenix’s wings flared wide. Hundreds of blazing feathers burst outward, hanging in the sky, their light growing sharper and sharper.

She’s been… what? Eating them?

If it were me, I’d spend all my strength setting up one perfect defense, just enough to deflect them once. And even then, I’d expect to be singed and scarred, if not incinerated outright.

Suddenly—flash! The world went white. My eyes burned as torrents of flaming feathers cascaded down, aimed at Mio… and at us.

“Bend,” Raidou said.

“All redirected to herself? Hm. That reminds me of several rather dreadful experiences,” Shiki noted dryly.

Several? How many disasters does that imply?!

Just as they described, every feather curved midair, their paths twisting until they all converged on Mio. Direct hits. Every single shot.

And yet… she remained standing. Her body was intact. Untouched.

That storm should have burned her, melted her, completely erased her.

Instead—

“I’ll send it back… with seasoning,” Mio said sweetly, lifting her fan.

A piercing cry ripped through the chamber, the scream of the Phoenix.

Its wings—no, its entire body was impaled and burning with black fire.

A kind of counter-magic?

General Left used something similar, but never to the point of drawing every strike onto himself.

Mio drifted back toward the ground as if gliding, the Phoenix tumbling after her in a spiraling dive, still wracked with that same black flame. A creature born of fire, a bird of eternity, consumed by its own inferno. That grotesque contradiction left me shivering.

The once-proud Phoenix now only writhed weakly. Mio spared it a glance, then bowed lightly to Raidou.

As she turned to face us, I felt my breath catch.

Her clothes bore the traces—far too many to count—of direct hits. She had taken every one of those flaming feathers. Yet the simple black garb, which looked so ordinary, showed only frays here and there. No gaping burns, no shredded cloth.

So, that’s what she did. Took the attacks head-on, reshaped them, and returned them in kind?

Perhaps, with defenses of that magnitude, it could be practical. But sane? Absolutely not.

Left had honed his counters out of necessity, to make up for his lack of resilience. What Mio had done was the opposite; a philosophy far removed from reason.

“Well done, Mio. Shiki gave it his all, too, so would you lend him a hand with the investigation?” Raidou asked, looking about as concerned for her as he had for Shiki.

“Only if you’ll take me out for bird afterward,” Mio replied with a smile.

“Sure,” Raidou agreed. “I’ll find us a good place.”

“I can’t wait! Now, Shiki, stop staring off into the distance and get this over with! We’re going out with Young Master after this!”

So, this is what it means to them. This kind of battle is just… an everyday occurrence. No need for panic. No fear. Not even a celebration of a victory that should echo through history.

Unbelievable. And yet… even if I can’t accept it now, I may have to sooner than I think.

Even if they were to go to full-scale war with the demon race, Raidou would only look a little more troubled than he does now, then quietly begin his preparations.

The demon race… would be annihilated. Without question.

He is the worst possible form of existence.

Like the Goddess or a power equal to one like her, wandering the world on a whim, idly swinging a blade. That is what he truly is.

At last, I began to understand why Father treated Raidou with such courtesy. Cooperation, mutual benefit—those were only secondary.

The real reason was that we couldn’t afford to make him an enemy.

If we did, no plan of the demon race, no ambition, no revenge could ever progress again.

No matter what we cherish, we have to swallow it now and take his hand.

I understand that.

And now I see my own path as well.

Not as Demon King. Not as someone’s queen. A path only I could choose.

I have no complaints about my life. As the daughter of the Demon King, I’ve been treated kindly, raised with privilege. But my body, my heart—these are not mine alone. Today, more than ever, I hold this belief with pride.

By the time the Spirit Shrine had returned to its normal state, I was already on the road home, to the old capital, maybe for the last time.

Chapter 4

“… That concludes the Kuzunoha Company’s assessment of the anomalies within the Spirit Shrine. Since I was present myself, I can attest that their report holds no falsehoods,” Sari finished calmly.

“I see. A warped space strong enough to intoxicate even Greater Spirits, manifesting around the altar. Clearly artificial,” rumbled the Demon King.

“Yes,” Sari confirmed. “According to Shiki-dono, it resembled ritual sorcery that used a dissolving medium in the air, designed to last only a few days. As for the culprit… I suspect the opposition to Your Majesty.”

“There can be little doubt,” Zef agreed. “No hyuman agents have slipped into this capital, and neither that faction nor the Goddess’s have stirred. The circle narrows of its own accord.”

It was the quiet before the night’s banquet. In his chamber, Demon King Zef listened to the report, flanked by several clerks and his closest generals, Io and Rona.

The messengers were his own daughters, Lucia and Sari. Escorting their guests from the Kuzunoha Company, they had been caught in the incident and seen its resolution firsthand before returning to the castle.

Sari delivered her account with unbroken poise, answering each of Zef’s questions without hesitation. The Demon King accepted her words, nodding as though he had already anticipated the culprit.

“Still, even with two Greater Spirits, not a single scratch on Raidou. So, ‘Wicked One’ is not a title born of bluff or empty boast. They say on the battlefield that earned him the name, thousands died from a single strike. I had hoped such tales were exaggerated… yet it seems they were an understatement.”

“Their power rivals that of a great nation,” Sari replied. “No, actually, we should think of them as a third force in this war. For all their fury, they passed through the Spirit Shrine’s chaos unscathed, suppressing both the Behemoth and the Phoenix as if it were routine.”

“When one attendant matches a Greater Spirit, that alone is incredible. But Rona, your report suggested this ‘Shiki’ was no more than a formidable lich. Which is it?” Zef turned his gaze toward Rona beside him.

“Yes. By all accounts, Shiki should be the man possessed by Larva… and yet, I can scarcely believe it.” Rona’s tone was firm but troubled. “Larva was already a lich who had nearly reached his natural limits. I know that much. But no lich—no undead—could ever hope to prevail against the Behemoth. To pit such a being against a Greater Earth Spirit is like trying to smother a wildfire with a torch. It’s reckless, foolish, unthinkable. What has become of him?”

“Perhaps the Behemoth’s madness worked to his advantage somewhat,” Lucia interjected at last, breaking the silence she’d held since the beginning. “Even so, Shiki fought masterfully. He blended refined swordsmanship with spells of forbidden-class potency, cast in tandem, all while facing the Behemoth head-on. No ordinary lich could display such close-combat skill, let alone that kind of sorcery.”

“A lich wielding the sword…” Rona whispered, shaking her head. “That strays farther and farther from Larva’s image. No… it seems my knowledge of him, of Shiki, is utterly obsolete.”

Zef gave a thoughtful grunt. “So, be it. But see that any endeavors to update your information on him remain… discreet. No heavy-handed measures. That’s a direct order.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

His eyes shifted to Sari. “And the spirits themselves? They returned to sanity, did they not?”

“Yes,” Sari replied. “Though their first words were… We were planning on testing ourselves, so this worked out perfectly.”

“What?” Io muttered in exasperation.

“From there, the discussion continued calmly. Mio-dono reined them in now and again, but overall, the spirits were cordial,” Sari added.

“Hmm. I had suspected as much. They seemed intrigued. And afterward?” Zef asked, pointedly ignoring the mention of Mio’s antics.

“In the end, the Phoenix made a pact with Mio-dono, and the Behemoth with Shiki-dono. Should either of them ever be in need, the spirits would offer their aid.”

“Ha! So, it is. The more time passes, the more ungovernable that company becomes.” Zef laughed low in his throat.

“There were further talks afterward,” Sari admitted. “But Sister and I were ordered to check on the rescued survivors, so we had to leave. I don’t know what was said once we departed.”

“Very well. For now, I judge matters have remained within the scope we anticipated, albeit barely…”

Zef’s expression shifted, as though he was weighing his own designs. Sari’s eyes widened as she spoke.

“Forgive me, but… Your Majesty, did you already foresee the anomaly at the Spirit Shrine?”

“Mm. No more than a suspicion that it might be so,” Zef admitted.

“And the Kuzunoha Company’s actions afterward?”

“I expected they would be drawn in by you two and inevitably interfere.”

“And their true strength?”

“That, I had hoped you would draw out for me. But if the disturbance was only what I anticipated, I was certain they would return unharmed.”

“Raidou-dono…” Sari’s voice rose, her composure fraying. “When the Phoenix itself intruded upon the fight with the Behemoth, in the worst possible convergence of threats. He had the audacity to call it ‘lucky.’ He said a whole maze had been removed, so it made things easier! Your Majesty, did you truly sense such power from him?”

“Lucky, hm… what a terrifying word to use,” Zef gave a low chuckle. “No, not to that extent. Even I didn’t foresee two Greater Spirits falling into madness at once. Had I known the scale of the calamity, I would have led the army myself to suppress it. In truth, those preparations were already made. Is that not so, Io, Rona?”

Both generals nodded in silent confirmation.

Seeing this, Sari exhaled, her shoulders loosening with faint relief.

“I see… Forgive me. To us, Raidou-dono seemed a peril, a danger beyond reckoning. I needed to know how much Your Majesty truly grasped. Please pardon my boldness.”

“Boldness? Hardly. You need not apologize.” Zef’s tone softened, then hardened again. “But the greater issue at hand… is timing.”

“Timing?”

“Only a select handful knew the exact date and hour of the Kuzunoha Company’s visit to the shrines. That means that for this attempt at a coup to unfold, someone close to me must have leaked it. And such a scheme—the deliberate frenzy of spirits, high-ranking ones—cannot be improvised. It was premeditated. Planned. They struck at my invited guests by design.”

The chamber stiffened at once, tension crackling like drawn steel.

The Demon King’s words landed like a spark in dry tinder; everyone in the chamber felt the implication that one of them might be the traitor.

“Ah, well. This too is a matter I’d like resolved before spring. Not as urgent as the Kuzunoha Company, perhaps, but still…” Zef sighed, pressing his brow with two fingers.

Io cleared his throat delicately before speaking. “Your Majesty. To keep relying on our guests as if they were our own hands… it reflects poorly on us.”

“I know, Io. In fact, I already addressed it. Yesterday, through Rona, I passed word via Shiki, offering them some measure of recompense. Isn’t that so, Rona?”

“Yes. Though it was meant as compensation for the friendly match, nothing more,” Rona confirmed.

“I decided to add a little weight to it. To give them a gesture of goodwill, before any kind of formal agreement. From what I’ve seen, Raidou is the type to value that. Whether Shiki approves or not is secondary. The one with true authority in that company is Raidou. Convince him, and the rest will follow.”

“That’s true,” Rona conceded quietly.

“Not that I intend to overreach,” Zef continued, the corner of his mouth curling up. “Maybe I’ll play the supplicant instead. Show them a glimpse of hardship, let them believe the demon race is not as prosperous as it may appear. No doubt they already suspect as much from what they’ve seen here.”

He chuckled. Already, the king had settled on his stance, his chosen means of facing the overwhelming presence that was the Kuzunoha Company.

As the tension finally slackened, Lucia steered the talk toward the next day’s event, one that concerned her directly. “Then, about the friendly match—”

“Wait,” the Demon King stopped her, a smile still on his face. “Before that, there’s something I want confirmed. You both went with him today, so I’ll hear your thoughts again. Tell me, if I were to order one of you to wed Raidou… what would you do?”

“I would have no objection,” Lucia answered at once.

“I’m surprised you answered so quickly,” Zef said, one brow lifting. “Have you had a change of heart?”

“As you said, Father, he cannot be left unchecked. If I can be of any use, then I will devote myself to ensuring his power is never turned upon the demon race.”

“Hmm… And you, Sari?”

“I… cannot marry Raidou-dono,” she replied.

“Oh?”

Zef’s gaze sharpened with interest. Surprise flickered across the chamber; after all, it had seemed earlier that Sari was more receptive to the idea. To hear her refusal voiced so firmly caught them off guard.

“I believe such an arrangement would have the opposite effect,” Sari continued.

“And why is that? Marriage—be it with hyumans or demons—has long served as one of the most effective means of forming kinship, resolving disputes between races.”

“Because of Mio-dono. Compared to Shiki-dono, she’s far more open in her emotions. And she harbors feelings for Raidou-dono. That much was clear to me. If marriage were suddenly arranged, she would find it intolerable. Should she act against us in response, even alone, the damage could be catastrophic.”

“Would she truly allow her emotions to override loyalty? She is his attendant, after all.”

“She would. The Kuzunoha Company is nothing like our organizations; its members are given levels of freedom we would never permit. If something were to spark before matters were settled…”

“Hm.” Zef leaned back, frowning. “That was not within my calculations. I had assumed the Kuzunoha Company to be a monolith—Raidou’s will absolute.”

“There’s more,” Sari pressed on. “Raidou is… far more immature and reserved with women than Your Majesty imagines. At least, that’s how he appears outside of battle.”

“Immature? Reserved?”

“Yes.”

“Then marriage would not be the proper measure,” Zef mused. “One who can take lives so calmly, yet whose heart is still that young… Perhaps not impossible, but… hm.”

“But Your Majesty,” Sari urged, “I have already sown the seed. After seeing him today, I believe I have found a means to bind Raidou-dono more effectively than marriage. Please, trust me with this.”

“Sari!”

Lucia’s rebuke cracked like a whip, her voice sharp with outrage. Matters touching the Kuzunoha Company and Raidou were inseparable from the fate of the demon race. Such things were not for untested daughters to claim charge of. Her protest was only natural.

Yet Zef betrayed no flicker of emotion. He asked quietly: “Sari… are you certain?”

“Yes.”

“Then explain.”

“After this. When we’re alone.”

“Very well.”

Their gazes locked—king and daughter, steel against steel. Neither yielded, neither blinked. It was a contest none dared intrude upon.

At last, Zef broke eye contact. Sari held her stare a moment longer, then dipped her head, sealing her lips.

“Rona. As I said before, the traitor is within a very narrow circle. Find them. Do not let it mar tomorrow’s match,” Zef ordered.

“By your will,” Rona replied.

“Good. Io, the friendly bout will be adjusted. Word of the incident at the shrines is sure to spread, so tighten restrictions on spectators. And the opponents as well. Sari, you will wait outside my chambers. Lucia, you are dismissed. Also, you are not to attend tomorrow's match. For one whose spirit has already been broken, such a display would be wasted. Instead, oversee unit training for the day.”

Each subordinate voiced assent.

Lucia bit her lip but bowed in acknowledgment. Having witnessed Raidou and his company firsthand, she knew her father was right: There was little to be gained from watching further.

“And this evening,” Zef concluded, “I must speak with Raidou-dono at dinner. Anticipated or not, these guests of ours are proving to be busier companions than I ever imagined.”

※※※

“I’m grateful you see it that way. In truth, Raidou-dono, this city owes its salvation to you. And to think you agreed to the friendly match too. No number of bows could suffice,” said Zef in a deep rumbling tone.

“Ah, n-no, please!” I protested, squirming a little. The Demon King was sitting far too close for comfort. “I couldn’t possibly accept such words from Your Majesty. It was my followers who did most of the work anyway. I’m just relieved that Lucia-san and Sari-san came away unharmed.”

Uh. Demon King Zef is sitting right next to me. Like, right next to me.

I can’t taste the food. At all. And don’t even ask me if I feel full because I don’t know.

Tonight’s banquet was smaller than yesterday’s, attended only by the highest officials, and Zef himself kept serving me portions.

Which makes this the worst possible experience. Great. Just great.

“You even managed to identify the most likely cause of the frenzy. Truly, you could stand to carry yourself with more pride. Ah, your cup’s empty. Forgive me; I hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh, no, I’ve already had quite a bit, so, um… Thank you…”

I gave up as he poured another brimming glass.

Seriously, how do you refuse in this kind of situation?

I’d tried holding the cup half-full to avoid it, but then, like magic, an empty one appeared from nowhere, and the Demon King himself filled it.

Yeah, that was a flawless checkmate. No escape routes left.

“Here, a toast, then.”

“Th-Thank you.”

Zef smiled. “Truth be told, I rarely have the chance to drink in company like this. Sharing cups with you tonight… it makes me feel as though you were my son. Hah—what a thing to confess!”

Did he just…? Did the Demon King just casually adopt me mid-toast? Nope. Nope, he’s not drunk.

From the moment Zef began speaking, it felt less like casual dinner talk and more like he was winding up to a punchline.

This is totally set up. I heard Lucia-san and Sari-san’s telepathy this morning. Don’t think I didn’t catch the pattern here.

“You already have two fine sons, though, don’t you? Ahaha…” I tried to deflect with a laugh.

“Roche and Sem, yes. They’ve done well. But excellent education can only produce the gifted, never the extraordinary. A talent like yours, Raidou-dono, is another matter entirely. Consider, then, Lucia, or Sari… well, Sari is still a little young. But what do you say? One of them? Both, even? It would put my mind at ease.”

He’s not changing the subject at all. What is with this guy?!

“Surely you’re joking,” I tried. “I’m hyuman.”

“What of it? Power is what matters. I wouldn’t even insist that your first child be raised here. Hm?”

As if that makes it better! Marriage isn’t even on my radar to begin with!

“It’s a great honor, it really is. But I’m still inexperienced, even as a merchant. I must decline.”

“No?”

“Yes.”

I hesitated over the wording, but in the end chose clarity. There was no chance he’d let vague evasions stand.

“Even so?”

“Even so.”

“Mmm.”

Zef sagged in his chair, his shoulders heavy with disappointment, and fell silent.

Did I just sour the Demon King’s mood? Great. Just great. Exactly what I needed right now.

Still, marriage wasn’t something I could answer with a half-smile and a nod.

“Then so be it,” he said suddenly, raising his head. His tone was bright and untroubled.

“Eh?”

“It’s a pity, but if Raidou-dono cannot be won by my daughters, then it only proves they lack the necessary charm. If they cannot prevail, then it is beyond their reach. In that case, there is nothing left but to let the matter rest.”

“R-Right.”

I’m glad, but… also a little worried. Is this what they call Demon King quality? No—Zef quality. Terrifying.

“Lucia, for example,” Zef went on casually, “tightens her form considerably. Out of uniform, she can be quite feminine, and in a dress, she cuts a fine figure. Of course, as a soldier, she neglects other kinds of training. At this rate, she may remain unwanted, and I cannot help but feel some concern. I had hoped she might suit your tastes, Raidou-dono, but alas.”

What kind of thing is that to say about your daughter?! Blood or not, that’s brutal.

Among hyumans, women in the military weren’t unusual. Thanks to the Goddess’s blessings, they often reaped even greater benefits than men. Among demi-humans and demons, the ratio dipped slightly but not by much; magic filled that gap. Even so, women rising high in the military ranks of non-hyumans was rare.

But still! All but calling your own daughter left on the shelf while she’s right there? Harsh doesn’t begin to cover it. And stop sneaking glances at me! I’m not nodding to this, no matter how much you grin!

“Of course, there’s joy in training one from the ground up,” Zef mused. “But perhaps Raidou-dono is not yet at the age to take pleasure in such work.”

What did he just—?! This man’s been throwing out insane lines one after another.

“A-Ah, Your Majesty. Forgive me, but… might this be the wine speaking?”

Yeah, I know you’re not drunk, but this’ll be a lot less embarrassing for both of us if we can blame the alcohol.

“If so, then Sari is no good either, hmm? She’s just now at the stage of becoming a woman; her body isn’t yet mature. Does that fleeting taboo not excite you at all?”

Oh no. Oh no no no. Someone please make him stop.

Zef’s booming voice carried across the table, loud enough to make his daughters freeze mid-motion, trembling with outrage or embarrassment—or both.

He’s doing this on purpose. He has to be. He’s enjoying it. The Demon King is actually a prankster. Gods, even Rembrandt-san—father of two girls back in Tsige—would never dare make this kind of “joke.” And when he so much as hints at it, the fallout is always catastrophic.

He’s really going to keep pushing this… isn’t he? Fine. But if this blows up in my face, don’t expect me to save you, Demon King.

“Truthfully, even if you asked me to marry Sari-san, it wouldn’t feel real.” I forced myself to sound as measured as possible. At the very least, I needed to avoid saying anything that would rub them the wrong way. “Among my acquaintances, even nobles or royals, no one married that early. So, well…”

“Then tell me, Raidou-dono,” Zef said smoothly. “What kind of woman is to your liking?”

“M-My preference? Uh, well… someone who usually acts brisk, but every so often shows a softer, more feminine side.”

“I see.”

“Or… someone earnest, who tries her best with everything.”

“Hmm.”

“Ah, I mean, just as examples! Hypotheticals!”

What the hell am I saying? It’s the wine. Has to be the wine. Too much pouring, too many rounds back and forth. My brain’s leaking out of my ears.

“Then,” Zef declared with infuriating certainty, “Mio-dono must fit that mold precisely.”

PFFFFF!!!

I choked, spraying drink before I could stop myself.

My eyes darted sideways. Was she listening? Could she hear this? Mio’s back was perfectly straight… Too straight. Her posture screamed awareness.

Oh no. She definitely heard that. Should I check with Telepathy? No—nope. Not touching that landmine.

“Wh-Why would Mio’s name come up here?!” I stammered, grabbing my napkin to blot the wine I’d spat across the tablecloth.

“Why not? A woman who is that alluring, of course, you’ve touched her. I have an eye for these things.”

What’s with this “of course you’ve touched her” logic?! I absolutely have not!

“She’s my follower. And, more than that… we’re, we’re kind of like family. Your Majesty’s words just caught me off guard, nothing more. My apologies for the mess.”

Exhausting. Every line out of this guy’s mouth is a trap. He doesn’t miss a single chance to keep me off-balance.

Why am I so drained? This was supposed to be a banquet where we’re the honored guests, not some mental endurance test…

“Hahaha, if apologies are owed, it is mine. For prying into vulgar matters.” Zef smiled. “Forgive me, Raidou-dono.”

So, he does know. He’s fully aware he’s the worst. Great.

Then the Demon King slid his chair closer, close enough that our shoulders nearly touched, and drew a slim cylindrical case from his robe.

Wait, is that… like the kind you use for certificates? So, documents?

He set it on the table along with a thick, engraved plaque of some sort.

Before I could puzzle it out, he explained: “This is a pass; it grants freedom of movement through all towns and checkpoints within demon territory. There are several kinds, but this bears the same authority as those carried by the upper echelons of the army. It will give you unrestricted entry and exit to nearly every settlement, and through them, direct contact with the demon leadership.”

“Huh.”

So… like a high-grade travel permit? They really keep a tight rein on movement here. Do they even have something like family registers?

“And this.” Zef withdrew a sheet of fine parchment from the cylinder. The paper itself radiated importance, inscribed with neat, elaborate lines I couldn’t quite read from my angle. “In my name, this document grants the Kuzunoha Company the right to trade freely within demon territory, exempt from taxation. It has been properly issued, and this seal is known throughout the demon race—one only I can impress. With it, no petty disputes should trouble you.”

“So, this is… for the Kuzunoha Company… For Kuzunoha?!”

Wait, wait, wait. Did he just—? Business rights? Across the demon realm? Tax-free?!

“Indeed,” Zef said with perfect calm. “And, of course, the pass as well.”

That insane travel pass, too?!

Wait. Is this what Shiki meant when he said we’d be “given something”? Or is it a thank-you gift for the shrine incident? Either way, this is way too much.

I couldn’t help staring at it.

“Hmm. I thought this showed a fair degree of sincerity. Was it not enough?” Zef asked.

“No, it’s just… I’m shocked to be entrusted with so much. I can’t help but wonder if we’ve truly done enough to deserve it.”

“You accepted the friendly match, did you not? And at the shrines, you quelled the anomaly and saved two of my inexperienced children besides. This is thanks for that as well.”

OK, but even so, this is absurd. Way beyond what I expected.

“Later, I’ll have the rest compiled into a proper inventory. But for now, one more gift,” Zef added.

There’s still more?!

Normally, gifts would come after paperwork and an official ceremony. Instead, Zef had skipped ahead. He’s really going out of his way for this…

From the cylinder, he pulled yet another sheet of parchment.

No way. This can’t be real.

I blinked, rubbed my eyes, but the lines and symbols didn’t change.

“A map,” Zef announced. “It charts our domain, excluding the unclaimed north. All major towns and roads are recorded. A few details remain blank for confidentiality reasons. I trust you understand.”

The map stretched south from Stella Fortress, and in the regions that overlapped with hyuman-made maps, they were in perfect agreement. Some spaces were left intentionally blank, and some roads were cut short mid-route. Still, it was a trove of military-level information, the kind no other hyuman could possibly know. Even Kaleneon was marked.

Zef rolled it back up, slid it into the case with the permits, and pushed it toward me.

“It is yours, Raidou-dono. Use it well. Spread goods through demon cities and the towns of other races alike. Make your fortune as you please. And of course, tomorrow, I look forward to your performance in the match.”

“I’ll do my best,” I managed.

No wonder Shiki urged me to accept the match. The rewards are ridiculous. Even if we fight, we’ll barely show our hand. With this haul, we’re coming out ahead no matter what.

“Good. Now! Enough of work and courtesy. From here, let’s speak freely. For instance, your taste in women…”

“Please, I don’t want to talk about that anymore!”

“I insist! What sort of Demon King would I be if I failed to honor a guest who risked so much for us?”

“You’ve already given me far too much!”

“Not enough! At least consider one of my daughters—”

Is he bringing this up again?!

“I told you I refuse! And besides, that’s half politics, half matchmaking!”

Thus, the night wore on, an endless loop of drinks, outrageous offers, and exhausting conversation.

Chapter 5

I can’t say I hadn’t expected this.

On what would be one of my last days in the demon capital, I was escorted into a vast underground hall—the venue for the so-called “friendly match.” We had walked endlessly through the castle’s subterranean passages to reach it. The place was fitted with tiered seating circling the perimeter, clearly designed for thousands of spectators to watch battles unfold.

As a venue for a friendly duel, it was impressive, far more than I had anticipated. I hadn’t thought we’d be fighting out in some blizzard-swept wasteland, of course, but the scale and polish of this arena still caught me off guard.

Looking up, I saw a towering dome ceiling. At its peak yawned an opening, a window through which the eternal night sky could be glimpsed.

What was it I had expected, exactly?

This.

An enormous, cavernous hall… with only me standing at its center.

Neither Mio nor Shiki was at my side.

Their overwhelming strength—enough to subdue even Greater Spirits—was already well known. That was why the message delivered to me was simple enough: Today, it is enough if you alone, Raidou-dono, demonstrate just a fraction of your power.

So, my two companions had been politely shown to the stands. The demons were probably worried that if either of them cut loose here, the arena itself wouldn’t survive.

Besides, the gifts we’d received were more than generous.

A travel permit granting us free passage throughout the entire nation. The Demon King’s official endorsement of my business. Freedom to scout out different towns and test what products would sell. Exemption from taxes once trade began.

The demon lands were full of demi-humans, and with their difficult environment, supply lines often fell short. To think they opened such an unpredictable and promising market to us for free… If that’s the case, then it’s only right I play along with their request.

This exhibition match wasn’t misfortune. It was a fair price to pay. At least, that was what I told myself as I stood in the center of the hall.

“So, then… who am I going to be fighting?” I muttered.

Just then, the solemn voice of an announcer echoed through the chamber, declaring the event’s beginning.

Considering the size of the venue, there weren’t all that many spectators. And unlike the tournament in Rotsgard, there was none of that feverish energy. Instead, a sharper kind of tension filled the air. All eyes were fixed on me; I could feel my every movement being scrutinized, the atmosphere drawn tight with anticipation.

I’d felt this sort of pressure before. Back when I’d stood before students as an instructor in Rotsgard, and even further back, in Japan, when I’d demonstrated archery before an audience.

From straight ahead, four shadows approached.

Great. Of all the possibilities I imagined, this really is the worst case. Guess my bad luck hasn’t gone anywhere after all.

I half-wondered if Demon King Zef himself might appear, given the tone of yesterday’s conversation. But really, it would never do for a ruler to risk being humiliated in front of his vassals. And for all his joking manner, I doubted he’d ever step over a line so unbecoming of a king. So, no, his absence didn’t surprise me.

Still… all four demon generals at once?

Io and Rona, sure—I’d expected them. Even with Left, I had a rough idea of what to anticipate.

But the last one… I barely knew a thing about him.

Until today, we’d barely exchanged words. I’d hardly even heard his voice. He wore a white coat like a doctor’s, his hair a messy tangle. But the impression he gave wasn’t medical so much as… academic. A researcher.

He looks like the kind of guy who’d always have a cigarette dangling from his lips.

No blue skin, no horns—none of the traits typical of demons. At first, I thought he might be a demi-human.

Wait… could he actually be hyuman?

Finally, the four of them closed the distance, stopping at the point you might bow before a baseball game.

“Just so you know,” the white-coated man began, “I’m not a hyuman, Raidou-dono.”

“Ah, my apologies.”

Did he notice me staring? I wasn’t trying to be that obvious about it…

“I’m told there’s about one-sixteenth demi-human blood in me. I couldn’t even tell you what race it is.”

Wait, hold on. At that point, you’re basically hyuman, aren’t you? Half if it’s your parents, a quarter if it’s your grandparents… but one sixteenth? That’s practically nothing. Anyway, you look completely hyuman to me.

“Just as I’d heard. Fascinating.” He smiled faintly, studying me with keen curiosity. “Bloodlines, race, appearance—none of that matters. What intrigues me is what kind of upbringing could shape someone like you.”

“Something like ‘all people are equal,’ perhaps. As you may already know, my name is Raidou Misumi. I look forward to fighting with you.”

“I am Mokuren Kazusa. Friendly match or not, I’ll treat this as a serious duel. Even in this form, I live as one of the demon race. I won’t insult you by holding back. I’ll drag even a fraction of that hidden power from you if I can.”

“Ha… haha…”

His intensity caught me off guard, and I could only laugh awkwardly in reply.

This man is no warrior—he’s a mage. And not like Rona, who doubles as an operative. No, he has the air of a pure spellcaster through and through.

And beyond that… there was something familiar about him.

Yeah… that’s it. He reminds me of an alchemist. I think his name was Hazal. It’s been a while. He’s probably still out there in Toa’s party, clumsily causing trouble on a genetic level.

It wasn’t just Mokuren; Io, too, was brimming with fighting spirit, a palpable aura of battle rising from him.

“I’m glad I can face you here, Raidou-dono, away from the battlefield. Hold nothing back. Let’s both give our all.”

Io bared his teeth in a fierce grin, flexing all four arms as he adjusted the gauntlets strapped to them. They gleamed with unmistakable craftsmanship, a challenge in themselves.

The ceiling’s open. Worst case, I can always send this guy flying out of the arena with another rocket punch.

Rona hadn’t spoken a word since she appeared.

Wow. Ultra-silent.

Or so I thought until I noticed she was already weaving layers of spells around herself, slipping them into place with practiced precision. Her face stayed perfectly composed, but all her focus was tied up in maintaining that delicate control.

Looks like the opening seconds are going to be a storm of magic headed my way…

Left, meanwhile, stepped forward with a spear in hand, bowing courteously before he spoke.

“Forgive me for leaving the banquet so abruptly the other night. I am Left, one of the demon generals. Though in truth I am no more than a beast, His Majesty’s generosity has granted me this position. Today, I am honored to witness the power he has recognized in you.”

“You’re the Mutant Dragon, Mildy Dragon, aren’t you? I’ve heard that those of your kind wield tremendous strength. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said.

“What! You know the name of my kind? You are remarkably well informed. I’m the one who should be honored.”

Wait, he’s surprised?

But Tomoe talks about that like it’s common knowledge! Was that actually some rare trivia?

“Well then, I guess we’re just waiting for the signal to begin,” I said.

The four generals exchanged puzzled glances.

What’s with those faces?

“Huh. Strange, they haven’t started it yet,” I muttered.

We all introduced ourselves, the announcements cut out while we talked… Shouldn’t there have been a nice, clear “Fight!” or maybe a gong by now?

“Raidou-dono,” Io said at last, his tone carefully measured, “today you are to fight us, but…”

“Yes?” I asked.

“Did you truly receive no details?”

“His Majesty only told me to ‘show a little of my strength.’”

“I see. Then about the match itself—”

“Oh, that’s simple, isn’t it? I just fight all of you at once, right?”

The demon generals fell silent, exchanging looks that could only mean, “Seriously?”

W–Wait, that’s not it?

“Raidou-dono… you don’t mean to fight all of us at once, do you?” Io’s voice carried a trace of disbelief.

“Eh? Isn’t that how this works?”

Silence again.

But think about it. If Io’s supposed to be the strongest of the demon generals, then what’s the point of doing four separate one-on-one matches?

Rona’s cool voice cut in. “Io. His Majesty has granted permission. He says that will be fine.”

She must have been speaking with him by Telepathy.

“But Rona,” Io began, “that’s far too—”

“He’s the one insisting on it, isn’t he? And if ‘showing a little strength’ means facing four at once, then so be it… Now hush. I’d rather not talk; I need to keep my focus.”

“Very well.” Io exhaled sharply, his sigh the signal. The other generals shifted into position.

Left stepped forward beside Io, spear in hand. Rona held center. Mokuren moved to the back line.

Io advanced a little more than the others, but the formation was clear: two in front, one in the middle, one in the rear. A neat two–one–one.

Apparently, this wasn’t the start they’d rehearsed, because the announcer’s voice returned in a fluster, proclaiming the beginning of the match between the four demon generals and me.

“Well then… let’s start simple. Bridt!”

I pushed off the floor, springing backward as I cast, launching a burst of fiery projectiles toward each of the four.

They’d said not to hold back, but I wasn’t the same as before, the me who would take those words at face value. For now, this was only suppression fire. I reined in both the power and the speed.

Rona saw what I was doing instantly. “As expected. Casting without a chant!” she barked. “Mokuren, it’s on you! Assume every spell of his comes with full potency, even unvoiced!”

“No problem. I’m adept at rapid spell deployment,” Moruken replied.

So, he really is a mage after all.

Mokuren flourished a short blade as if it were a wand, incanting aloud even as his other hand traced silent sigils, lips moving in a voiceless chant on top of that.

Whoa. A genius, right here!

Mokuren was simultaneously chanting and unravelling six different spells.

He conjured barriers that deflected every one of my fire bolts with perfect precision, and on top of that, cast multiple support spells over his allies. Threads of magic still lingered in the air around them; he might have slipped in a few more tricks.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a versatile mage. Parallel chanting alone is impressive, but this is incredible depth.

“Let’s not let him interrupt Mokuren!”

Oh.

Io’s massive frame blurred forward with a burst of speed that didn’t suit his bulk, his fist suddenly crashing down toward me.

There was no time to dodge.

So, he’s not going to telegraph his punches for me. Fair enough.

I called up a raw magical construct—the one that pervert dragon Luto had insisted on naming “Materia Prima”—and let it absorb the strike.

Then, before he could recoil, I seized Io with it, pinned him fast, and hurled him skyward toward the open dome.

To the audience, it might have looked like some master of aikido tossing a giant over his shoulder.

In reality, it was nothing more than brute force.

“Grhh-ooohhhhhh!” Io’s massive body spun away, his roar echoing after him.

“Next is… Left, was it? Been a while since I fought a spearman,” I said.

Another warrior type. Maybe I’ll just grab him and toss him around, too.

“Sorry, but I won’t be taken so easily!” Left exclaimed.

Oh? My conjured arms couldn’t reach him. Every time they extended, his spear lashed out, batting them aside.

Ahh, so this is what it means to be a master of counters.

Left met the incoming magical limbs with flawless spearwork, deflecting each with almost casual grace.

Even though the constructs were invisible, he read them as if he could see them—instinct and craftsmanship honed to perfection.

No wonder Mio’s so eager to study this man’s technique. Fascinating.

I was completely absorbed watching Left’s skill when a jolt slammed into my back.

Rona’s magic.

Right… she set up all those spells before the match even started.

The first blast wasn’t enough to trouble my magical construct. But then came another. And another. Each one drilled forward with sharp precision, as if she were cycling through her repertoire and unleashing only the strongest.

Meanwhile, Left pressed me from the front, weaving magic into the flow of his relentless spearwork.

An attack from both sides. A pincer. Tricky to handle them at the same time… In that case, I’ll deal with Left first. Rona will probably fall back once she’s emptied her spell barrage.

“Bridt!”

Instead of casting from my hands, I loosed five fire bolts directly from the tips of my conjured arms.

Left froze, his spear halting mid-swing, the frontal assault cut off.

Well, it was a surprise shot. No way he could’ve handled it cleanly.

Now then, Rona—

“You won’t be catching me!”

She darted back in a blur, and, to my astonishment, actually planted her foot on part of my magical construct to spring away, vaulting back to her original position.

“One step late, huh? Not bad,” I called out.

Although this is the perfect moment to shout, “Did you just use me as a stepping stone?!”

“It’s dangerous to let me distract you,” Rona warned coolly.

“Huh? Wha—?!”

Five brutal impacts slammed into me in rapid succession.

What the— These are on Shiki’s level! Wait, that’s… my Bridt?

Of course. Every shot had been deflected by Left.

So, this is what it feels like to be hit by my own spell… Weirdly refreshing, actually. I never even got to be Mio’s test dummy for her techniques, after all.

“Such terrifyingly precise attacks. But that very precision will—”

“Wait, hold it. Don’t you dare finish that line!”

I cut Left off on reflex. He’d been about to drop a line straight out of a robot anime.

And then, a crushing pressure slammed down over me.

What the— This overwhelming aura?! From above?!

“Too slow!” Io shouted.

“Io?!” I exclaimed. “He’s back?!”

“Never again! I’ll not be humiliated twice!!!”

Leveraging the momentum of his fall, Io poured everything into his strike. His fist crashed into my magical construct, the impact rippling outward like concentric waves.

The fury in his eyes said it wasn’t over. He followed swiftly with a punch from his other hand, and then a final kick—using my construct as a springboard, just like Rona had, to launch himself back to safety.

The shockwaves reached even the spectators.

The construct should be invisible, but they all react to it instinctively… Are all four of them just that perceptive?

If that’s the case, maybe I should reinforce it rather than hide it.

“Honestly, people like you, Io-dono, shouldn’t be able to just fly through the air like that…”

“It wasn’t easy! But the disgrace of my earlier defeat demanded retribution!!!”

Now he was roaring in full-on battle mode.

So, you’re a hidden genius, too, huh? Figures.

Io exhaled, steadying himself. “Then, perhaps it’s about time, Rona?”

“Yes. Perfectly set. Though really, Raidou-dono, you hardly put up enough resistance to make it interesting.”

She smiled faintly, touching a finger to her own hip.

“My waist?”

Drawn by the gesture, my gaze fell downward.

What—?! Something black is holding on to my construct?!

Even as I watched, the thing swelled larger and larger, its surface cracking with red and black fissures as though counting down. Three, two, one, zero.

The surge of magical power radiating from it was anything but that of a “friendly match.” I hastily shifted my construct’s field from concealment to reinforcement.

Seconds later, a deafening blast tore through the hall. Black and crimson light flooded my vision, the shockwave hammering against me.

A time-bomb spell? Seriously? Now that is lethal.

Even reinforced, my construct was badly eroded. And it wasn’t just the raw destructive power. It was draining my mana as well.

So, that’s it… a spell designed to chew through magical reserves. Could this be Rona’s trump card? Back in Limia, she gave off that same “still hiding something” vibe. Guess the only way to tell is by reading her expression… and I’m terrible at that.

I waited for the smoke and light to clear, only to feel fresh magical energy flaring beneath me.

What? Rona should’ve spent everything already. Then… ah, right. Mokuren’s still here. Four of them together, this is brutal. And here I thought demon generals were supposed to hate each other, not run coordinated plays!

“This is another form of ritual magic,” Mokuren’s voice rang out. “Type Two—Hailstorm Realm.”

Countless fine needles lashed out in a furious storm, slicing into my construct and draining it further.

Ritual magic, huh. That’s the kind they use in large-scale battles, not something a single person should be firing off. So, parallel chanting wasn’t enough. You can pull this off too?

Come on, I’m not a castle. I’m not an army. I’m one guy!

Even as I complained, the storm of needles gnawed at my construct, clinging and freezing solid.

So, that’s the plan—stop my movement and lock me in place.

This is harsher than the ice magic Rona used back when she was posing as Karen. Funny, the things that pop into my head at times like this.

“Everyone, back away… Hah.”

Mokuren drew in a long breath, his focus sharpening even further.

Wait, he’s still not done?

“Type Three—Falling Star, Realm!”

The lingering haze made it hard to see.

Annoying. Still, even though part of my construct is frozen, with reinforcement layered in, it won’t break unless something extreme happens. Might as well take a look at this spell properly… If I dissolve the frozen part and clear the field, I might wipe out the ritual magic, too. Two birds, one stone.

I released the frozen portions of my construct, lacing them with fire as I detonated them. An explosion and shockwave roared out from my position, rivaling Rona’s earlier blast.

At once, I rebuilt my construct and checked the field.

The generals had shifted into a defensive stance.

A wave of heat rolled back at me, redirected from Left’s position, but it wasn’t anything to worry about.

Now then, that ritual spell… where is it? I wondered, casting a glance around for the direction of the magic.

From above again. Wasn’t it called “Falling Star, Realm”? Still, I doubt it’ll be harsher than Io crashing down on me… would it?

I looked up and froze.

A molten boulder, easily five meters across, wrapped in flowing magma, was plummeting straight toward me.

Okay. Definitely harsher.

That was the scale of ritual magic.

“No way. How is this even remotely appropriate for a friendly match?!” I shouted.

“If you stand unscathed before us even now, then it is the only proper choice!”

Mokuren’s face was set with grim resolve—the expression of a man who had unleashed exactly the right spell against exactly the right opponent.

“My spell didn’t even scratch you… How tough are you supposed to be?” he snapped. “And not just mine. Io and Left’s attacks piled on as well before it detonated! At least have the decency to pretend you got burned a little!”

What kind of insane demand is that?!

“You’ve gotta be kidding me! A burn? I’d be ash if I took that head-on!” I shouted.

I stretched out the massive arms of my construct—now fully manifested, clearly visible to everyone—and seized the falling sphere of liquid rock with both hands.

“Inconceivable… You didn’t reduce its power, didn’t dodge, didn’t even raise a barrier. You caught it?” Mokuren murmured, dumbfounded.

Right… I could’ve just dodged. That would’ve been smarter.

“Ready, counter!”

With a heave, I hurled the lava boulder back toward the demon generals.

“That’s not a counter at all!” Left shouted indignantly.

What’s he talking about? I caught it before it hit me and threw it back. That counts as a counter. Pretty sure.

“Crimson Garnet—Left, you can handle this!” Mokuren barked.

“Leave it to me!”

One of the four gauntlets on Left’s arms flared brilliantly, bathing Io’s body in red light.

Oh, come on. He’s gone full super robot. Not just flight, now he’s got a type-change mode too.

Flames roared around Io as he planted himself, all four arms locking firmly around the five-meter boulder I’d just returned. It looked for all the world as if he caught it barehanded, despite the searing magma.

The embodiment of a super robot. No doubt about it.

Behind him, Mokuren and Rona had already retreated from the direct line of fire. But they weren’t just falling back. They were layering support magic over Io and Left.

Fast workers, those two.

Left’s eyes narrowed with razor focus on the molten boulder Io had caught. Then, with a sharp thrust, he drove his spear straight into it.

The impact sent the magma sphere hurtling back toward me at terrifying speed.

“What is this, dodgeball?!” I exclaimed.

Come on, if we just keep batting this thing back and forth, we’ll be here forever.

And yet—just as Mokuren had said earlier—this time, dodging seemed like the smart choice.

“No, no. Surely we should settle this honorably, Raidou-dono.”

I turned to slip aside, only to find Mokuren already standing there, cutting off my path.

I started, “Mokuren-dono?! When did you—”

“Spellcasters have teleportation,” he replied with a smile. “It’s the weakest form of movement, but I’m still a demon general. I can manage enough to avoid Rona’s scolding.”

Teleportation, too, huh… These guys really do have every angle covered.

“And that talisman in your hand?” I asked, nodding toward the paper glowing faintly in his grip, seconds from activation.

“Pre-inscribed chants, set into form hours ago. I call it talismanic arts, but you may call it what you like.” He raised it with a faint smile. “As we predicted. Now let’s see how you break through. Replicate: Falling Star, Realm!”

Another magma boulder materialized from Mokuren, streaking down to join the first.

Another pincer. The demon generals really do love those. Guess I’ll just have to take them head-on.

The two blazing masses closed in with only a heartbeat of delay between them.

The first came from the left. I swept a conjured arm in a wide backhand, knocking it away toward open space—best not to risk it being batted back again.

The second was faster.

Ideally, I’d like to deflect it upward… but there’s no time.

I braced, one arm catching it square. My construct was more durable than the molten rock itself, so after absorbing the initial shove, I redirected the pressure and held it steady.

Good. I can do this.

I expanded one of my construct’s arms, enveloping the magma sphere like a gigantic catcher’s mitt.

If I tried to crush this thing outright, it’d probably blow sky-high. Better to smother it whole and pin down the resistance, then force it under—

“Your Majesty!” Io’s voice rang out.

Wait, Your Majesty? I blinked, following his gaze. Of course, in the direction I’d knocked the first boulder.

A lone figure stood there.

The Demon King himself.

Oh no… the stands. If that thing slams into the outer wall, it could cause serious collateral damage. And yet, is he going to intercept it personally?

He had already cast aside his cape; the long mantle would only hinder his movements. From this distance, I could see the lines of his body.

Incredible. He’s the ruler of an entire nation, buried in duties day after day… and yet his physique is honed, every muscle sharply defined. Not bulky, but the kind of lean build that puts seasoned warriors to shame. A dangerous sort of “slim macho.”

Demon King Zef drew the blade at his waist.

Strange. I could’ve sworn last night someone mentioned his weapon of choice was the spear.

Yet his movement was flawless, the draw fluid and beautiful.

I was still pressing down on my magma sphere, but for a moment I forgot myself, captivated.

So, he’s not limited to one style. Spears may be his specialty, but he’s clearly trained to be a generalist.

Zef continued his incantation even as the blade cleared its sheath. The chant flowed on, seamlessly, hand in hand with the movement of the draw.

That kind of smoothness only comes from endless repetition. I would know. I drilled that way myself for years. No wonder he radiates so much confidence—the unshakable confidence of someone certain he can handle what’s coming.

Then the moment arrived.

The magma sphere bore down on him.

With a single motion, Zef reversed his grip and cleaved upward in a diagonal arc.

The stroke itself was extraordinary, and the sword he carried was no ordinary weapon either. It had the strength to withstand his technique and the refinement to serve as a catalyst, channeling his spell at its peak.

The red-hot mass split and vanished in an instant.

Of all the things I’d witnessed in this world, this was the most perfected union of weapon and magic.

The spell woven into that blade was a barrier, yet not a mere shield. It had the terrifying ability to annihilate anything it touched. A force of pure erasure.

So, Demon King Zef is a warrior who’s mastered barriers… or perhaps the entire system of spells tied to them.

Before I realized it, I had compressed the magma sphere in my hand until it, too, winked out of existence.

The sensation left me strangely unsettled.

That power… it might be the same as my bow. A force born from pouring one’s entire soul into a single discipline.

It wasn’t reverence, nor empathy, but something in between—an odd, indefinable kinship.

Then Zef’s voice rang through the hall.

“That will do!”

“Raidou,” he said, turning to me, “you were splendid. To face all four of my demon generals and contend with them so ably, your strength has been witnessed by all present here today. A magnificent showing. A reward shall be granted later. Now then—”

But his words were cut short.

“Those who abuse their power, may divine punishment fall upon you!!!”

The voice thundered from above, drowning out the Demon King.

At the same instant, a flood of presences descended, followed by a roar and blinding detonations that consumed the arena in light.

The demon generals immediately rushed to their lord’s side.

As for me, with no clue what had just happened, I did the only thing I could—focused entirely on defense.

Moments later, I felt Mio and Shiki closing in at speed.

※※※

“Quite the flashy entrance,” I muttered as I looked around the hall, or rather, what used to be a hall. The ceiling was gone, blown away, and the underground chamber now opened wide to the night sky.

I couldn’t help but feel impressed.

In that instant, the demon generals had moved to shield Demon King Zef, and he, in turn, had protected the stands.

Of course, they hadn’t been able to save everyone. With destruction on that scale, some casualties were inevitable. Dust still hung in the air, broken tiles and debris scattered across what had been a magnificent underground arena.

A quick scan with my construct told me the spectators were no longer here; they’d already been evacuated to the castle. Fast, efficient work.

Now it was just me, standing opposite the newcomers: more than a dozen demons in full battle gear.

If the earlier spirit rampage had been planned… I was willing to bet these were the people behind it.

“Young Master, it’s good to see you’re unharmed,” Shiki offered, bowing lightly at my side.

“As expected. Between the spirit incident and this, demon security seems surprisingly lax. Not that I mind. I can finally make myself useful,” Mio remarked, her tone edged with disdain.

“Thanks, both of you. You’re right; the demon capital certainly has more ‘accidents’ than Gritonia, doesn’t it?”

I gave them both a brief smile before turning my eyes to Demon King Zef.

One of the casualties lay near him, but Zef hadn’t moved to heal them. He was too busy facing down the terrorists.

The fallen figure was Rona. Blood seeped from her side, her face pale, her consciousness already gone. She must have taken a serious hit. Mokuren was at her side, murmuring chants, channeling healing magic as best he could.

An attack strong enough to injure a demon general… Or maybe there’d been a second strike aimed at Zef’s group that I didn’t catch.

I couldn’t be sure.

“You truly have no regard for time or place,” Zef said coldly.

“If it ends your tyranny, Zef, then we’ll stop at nothing,” the group’s leader shot back.

The two stood locked in a clash of words, the prelude to the battle about to erupt.

A peaceful resolution? Forget it. That’s not where this is heading.

The terrorists had struck first, but in terms of sheer strength, Zef and the generals far outclassed them. The question was: How much had these insurgents prepared in advance? That would decide how this unfolded.

And yet…

There’s something else. Some strange current of power is moving through the air. I can’t pin down what it is, but it’s there.

“My tyranny, is it? I don’t understand. Tell me, can there be any tyranny greater than the Goddess herself? I act not for myself, but for the survival and freedom of the demon race. I swear it, without a trace of selfishness.”

“Do not think selflessness makes everything permissible. You constantly claim there can be no oppression greater than the Goddess’s will, but divine will is not politics. To equate her will with the rule of men is arrogance, nothing less.”

“You mean to say that by striking me down and submitting to the Goddess, you will preserve the demon race?”

“Of course.”

“And your proof?”

“We, too, are a race created by the Goddess. She may grant us a little favor, but to this day, she has allowed us to survive. That alone is proof enough.”

Unbelievable. Even after all the abuse the demons have suffered, there are still those who cling to faith in her.

They complain about their circumstances, stir up wars, and what does she do? Brings heroes down on their heads to crush them. And they still believe? That isn’t devotion. That’s madness. Incomprehensible fanaticism.

Honestly, the earth and fire spirits, who simply responded to whoever needed them, made far more sense as objects of reverence. If it were me, I’d bow to them without hesitation.

Zef’s voice lowered yet still seethed with barely contained fury. “Perhaps. Perhaps the Goddess might deign to show us a shred of pity. Perhaps she would allow a handful of demons to survive, chained in servitude beneath the hyumans she so loves. Compared to annihilation, yes, one could call that survival. But tell me… is that truly the future you wish to lead our people toward? Will you command your children, your grandchildren, to accept the Goddess’s twisted favoritism and bow their heads to it?”

He’s calm, but that fury runs deep. And he’s right. Would that bug goddess ever forgive the demons after so many hyumans fell at their hands? Hard to say. She’s foolish enough that maybe, just maybe, if you flattered her and worshipped her blindly, the outcome Zef described wouldn’t be impossible.

“You’ve turned the demon race into a scourge upon the world! Under the Goddess’s blessing, the land was at least spared great upheaval and lived in peace!” the leader spat, stepping forward without a hint of fear toward the Demon King.

“You have invaded hyuman territories, seized their fields, and you continue this war even now! You permit the old, cruel customs to persist toward us demons and treat every life with contempt. That crime must be paid for with the deaths of you and your retainers! Only then can we, as demons, apologize to hyumans and demi-humans for our atrocities!”

“That’s nonsense,” Zef shot back. “The will of the demon race is aligned with mine. We have chosen the path of war. And pray tell, if you condemn customs that existed among demons before the war as inherently evil, are you not already contradicting yourself?”

“Then is it happiness to bind people by aptitude and ability, denying them freedom of vocation? Is it happiness to cull the children who cannot adapt to harsh conditions? Is it happiness for even the strong to be denied the dignity of choosing a partner, to be managed by the state? Is it happiness that in this country, parents can have their newborns taken from them simply because someone thinks the child has talent? All of that is permitted by you, Zef! Answer me!”

So, this is the darkness beneath the demon society… I see.

A pause hung in the air, and then Zef spoke.

“It is not merely permitted.”

“What trickery is this? Would a warlord of your stature hide behind words?” the leader barked.

“You call it permission. In truth, I embrace it enthusiastically.”

“Wh-What?”

Huh. I, too, was caught off guard. The insurgents’ faces flickered with uncertainty; this answer was nothing like they’d expected.

“Tell me, what is wrong with contributing to society according to one’s aptitude and ability?” Zef asked calmly. “If children who cannot endure the environment will multiply and become a burden that starves those who can work, then I will shoulder the responsibility and cull them. I do not impose this custom upon the rich cities or the demi-humans; I do not force it upon the towns and villages that wish to remain independent. When the strong pass their strength to the next generation, our nation stays strong. As for the matter of parents and children, our nature is such that the most capable must lead as kings. If you resent that, do not blame me or demon society; curse only the misfortune of having been born a demon.”

“The farmer’s son has come a long way, hasn’t he?”

“Perhaps. Had he stayed a farmer, one might have thought otherwise. Yet for you—the scion of a noble house who should be leading our people—to ruin your family and then betray the nation… you’ve fallen far.”

Are these two acquainted? They sure seem to know each other’s histories.

“If only you had questioned even one of our cruel customs, we might have joined hands. But it seems our wills no longer meet.”

“Our philosophies are the same: No universal charity for the weak. But we do not share the same values, so any cooperation between us wouldn’t last.”

“Can a state built solely on power and the chosen endure?”

“Those who swoon for soft words and praise servitude will never understand. More importantly, are you prepared? You’ve gone this far.”

“You think the spirit rampage was our only scheme? Is that monstrous thing over there your source of confidence? Very well, let me show you a way to assert a will you didn’t realize you had.”

“A monster? If you mean the Kuzunoha Company, you owe them an apology. I doubt even you wish to see the nation destroyed.”

Being called a monster isn’t anything new to me. Still, if they’d offered tea, I’d have declined. Definitely not drinking with terrorists.

“How convenient for you. The demon nation deserves to be wiped out.”

“Then allow me to apologize for that rudeness with action.”

With that as the signal, Zef, Io, and Left surged forward—not a guard stance, but a lightning strike. In under ten seconds, every leader of the armed group lay decapitated.

Io’s movements were like some beer-bottle-cutting stunt—clean, showy hand strikes that severed necks with frightening ease.

Skilled, diligent, and born with terrible talent. He’s a nightmare of a giant.

“Meaningless if their plans can’t be executed, Your Majesty,” Io called, sounding momentarily relieved.

Zef’s expression, however, tightened. “No. That was a sacrifice to buy time.”

I felt it too, the strange current that had been faintly drifting since earlier was now taking on a clear shape.

Tracing it to its source, I spotted it: buried under a heap of rubble, a staff driven into the floor, heavy with ornamentation.

That must be it.

“A staff? Looks like it’s already starting to activate,” I murmured.

“That’s… a royal scepter? Impossible!” Shiki’s voice suddenly turned sharp. “Mio-dono, can you disrupt its activation?!”

“Something like that would be easy… Huh? This one’s ancient—and powerful…” Mio frowned, her brow knitting. “I can’t n-nullify it?”

“I see. That can’t be helped.” Shiki exhaled, still tense. “If it is what I think it is, there’s a one-in-ten-thousand chance of something troublesome happening… but I expect we’ll be fine.”

Shiki definitely knows something about this.

“What is it, Shiki?” I asked.

“Most likely, it’s one of Elysion’s divine relics. I suspect it’s the Dragon Horde Scepter.”

“Dragon… Horde Scepter?”

“An heirloom passed down from king to king in Elysion. It’s steeped in grim history. The artifact couldn’t prevent that nation’s fall, but it contains tremendous power.”

Summoning dragons, huh. Elysion, dragons… Why does that ring a bell?

“But even if it’s powerful, the demons beat it once, and Elysion fell. Is it really worth worrying about, Shiki?” I asked, confused.

“That scepter draws either enormous mana—or blood and life force equal to it—to activate. But its effect… is random,” he replied.

“Random?”

Seriously? The terrorists’ ultimate trump card is a lost relic from another country, and it’s random? They’re not just fanatics. They’re hopeless. Everything about them, from their words to their actions, is incomprehensible.

“Well said,” Zef’s relaxed voice cut in as he walked toward us. “You are well informed, Shiki-dono. That is indeed Elysion’s relic, the Dragon Horde Scepter, the so-called trump card of those calling themselves the Resistance.”

Io and Left were trailing behind him, each still holding several severed heads.

“Your Majesty,” I greeted him.

“We cannot apologize enough for involving you in our troubles,” he replied with a wry smile.

“No, more importantly, shouldn’t we be opposing that scepter?” I asked.

He shook his head. He knew the Dragon Horde Scepter, not just the legends about it, but its actual provenance.

“By now, what will be summoned is left to chance. All we can do is pray for the fortune of those present.”

Leave it to chance… Of course, my brain immediately sought the worst-case scenario.

“And the worst case?” I pressed.

“All dragons but the Greater Dragons could be summoned here, and they would run rampant in madness.”

That’s a hellscape. Well, at least the Greater Dragons being excluded was something of a mercy.

“Every dragon, then?” I echoed.

“Yes. The world’s dragons would be gathered in one place. As Shiki-dono said, the probability is vanishingly small, but it exists.”

Dragon horde, huh.

If Shiki’s “one-in-ten-thousand” estimate is right. No way I’d stake my life on that.If the fortress of Zef’s order looks unshakable, would gambling on such a chance be worth it?

“In truth,” Zef continued, “the reason the dragon horde is considered the worst outcome is based on precedent. I fear there may be results beyond even that. Still, after Mokuren’s inquiry, he reported that anything worse than that sits below one in ten thousand. Virtually impossible.”

A lot of zeros in that probability. Great. Safe zone. Breathe easy: Knock whatever dragon shows up flat, and that’ll be that. I was starting to relax…

“That won’t do,” Shiki muttered.

“It reeks,” Mio added darkly.

“What does?” I asked.

“The kind of odds only you, Young Master, could draw,” Shiki said.

“Yes. For someone who, not once but twice within a single week, encountered beings most people would never meet in a lifetime… this fits perfectly,” Mio replied with a faint smile.

Twice in one week? That’d be Tomoe and you, wouldn’t it? And yeah, it was less than a week. The probability must’ve been microscopic. Then again, most people wouldn’t survive the first encounter, let alone get to the second…

“You two do realize how harsh that sounds?” I asked.

Even if Mio meant it as a joke, hearing it here struck differently.

“Look,” Mio said.

“Eh?”

I followed the line of her gaze.

From the scepter, a torrent of golden light erupted, tearing through the darkness and lancing straight into the sky.

What?

The brilliance poured over us, so intense it was like standing under the noonday sun. In the ever-night of demon territory, it was a brightness that hadn’t been seen in years.

I squeezed my eyes shut for an instant, then opened them again to Demon King Zef beside me.

For the first time, his face betrayed real alarm. Deep lines creased his brow, his expression grim as he stared into the light. Power welled around him, far stronger than before, as though he were preparing for whatever disaster might descend.

And that presence emanating from the golden light…

It’s him.

The pieces clicked together.

Elysion. The scepter. The dragons.

There’s no one else it could be.

The jackpot, or rather, the worst possible draw.

“This situation… it should have been impossible. The chance was so small it was dismissed outright. Even assuming there was something beyond the dragon horde, the calculations were only to be thorough. But a Greater Dragon’s summoning? Absurd…”

The Demon King’s words stabbed at my ears.

From the center of that blinding light, a vast silhouette emerged.

A dragon, the Westernized form, standing tall like a man. Larger even than Gront, its titanic frame spread wide by wings that only made it more imposing. And not one pair.

Three sets of wings, each pair a different size.

“Luto.”

That damn pervert.

What’s he thinking, showing up here as my enemy?

“Luto? You mean… he’s real?” Zef’s voice cracked, pained. “The Harmony Dragon, bearer of all attributes. The Heavenly Dragon. The Ancient Dragon spoken of as the pinnacle of Greater Dragons. But why… why would a being revered as the Goddess’s equal respond to a relic’s call, a mere hyuman tool?”

No wonder he was shaken. A king could only prepare for what might actually happen. Trusting a loyal subordinate’s numbers when they said a possibility was one-in-ten-thousand was not foolishness. Preparing for phantoms was wasteful and unrealistic.

In fact, Zef was the sort who would turn low odds into a strategy, dangling false hope before his enemies, perhaps, only to crush them later. That was the kind of ruler he was. He chose, and he accepted the sacrifices that came with that choice. I didn’t agree with all of it, but I could understand it.

“Ahhh, it’s been a while, Makoto-kun. Could you maybe explain what’s going on here? I’d appreciate it.”

The voice was out of place, utterly lacking in tension. Telepathy.

There was only one possible sender. No one else heard it; with the pressure in the air climbing, it seemed Luto’s voice reached only me.

“Luto. You came all the way to demon territory just to fight me?” I asked.

“Fight you?! No, no, no… wait. Don’t tell me the scepter’s target is—”

“Everyone here. Zef, me, the works.”

“Oh, crap. You’ve got to be kidding me… I can’t believe the gag summon I tucked into the scepter ages ago is actually firing now. Hey, Makoto-kun, be honest. Did you secretly make a pact with the Demon of Probability or something?”

“Like hell I’d make a contract that drags misfortune down on me. I’ve been living proof of bad luck ever since I came to this world.”

“Well… in that case, I’ll grit my teeth and bear the pain. But do be gentle, okay?”

The words were casual, even silly. But at the same time, Luto’s maw opened wide, a sphere of blinding rainbow light condensing at its heart. A convergence of every power.

“If it won’t even hurt you, then just go home!” I exclaimed.

“Ahaha, can’t. This summons is absolute. I’m forced to unleash one full-power strike, no holding back. Call it a self-binding oath. You’re familiar with those, right?” Luto replied playfully.

“Cut the sarcasm. Fine, then at least tell me what you’re planning. I’ll try to handle it.”

“Ooh, reliable. I could fall for you all over again! No, I already did, just now. As for what… Let’s see. How about a six-attribute scattershot breath? Big enough to erase a castle or a city or two without breaking a sweat.”

Could you not toss out apocalyptic threats like you’re ordering lunch?!

“And after you fire, you go home?” I asked.

“Of course. That’s how summoned beasts work, at least in the games my husband used to play,” he replied.

Lesson learned: A dragon’s sense of humor should never be left unchecked.

As if to affirm his words, the converging energy swelled and twisted, six attributes entangling into a grotesque amalgam. The surge rose without limit, an escalation that promised to rewrite the landscape itself.

Whether this disaster had been drawn by my notorious bad luck or not, one thing was certain: If the demon capital was erased today, it would be catastrophic.

What am I supposed to do, apologize? “Sorry, I’m unlucky”? That won’t cut it.

I hadn’t meant to side with the demons in their war, but they’d treated me well, whatever their reasons, whether it was respect for power or otherwise. I couldn’t just let them be annihilated.

“Never thought I’d commit such a blunder…”

Zef’s voice carried bitter amusement, though he was already raising barrier after barrier.

It wasn’t enough. Not against this. Even if he blocked the core of the breath, the collateral destruction would consume half the capital at least. Deaths in the tens of thousands, maybe worse.

Outside the capital, where there were no barriers, the devastation would spread even farther.

Unlike Zef’s earlier trick with the magma sphere, my construct—Materia Prima, as Luto called it—can’t erase things outright.

I could probably block or deflect the attack. But killing the force completely? Impossible. The collateral damage would be catastrophic.

The fact that it was a scattershot made it even worse. To spread my construct wide enough, its density would thin.

Ugh. What a pain.

For a moment, I even considered using Azusa to shoot straight through Luto’s mouth, disrupting the breath at its source. But that would guarantee a crater the size of the city.

Yeah, no. Not an option.

I pulled back a little from the Demon King’s group and turned to my companions. “Mio, what do you think we should do?”

“Evacuate,” she said simply. Her eyes said the rest: Into the Demiplane.

It was the safest choice. We’d survive unscathed, and the Demiplane was the perfect refuge. Dry and pragmatic, classic Mio. A hundred points in its own way.

“Shiki?”

“Magic is born from the image one holds,” Shiki replied quietly. “Your construct is no exception. Extending from that principle… yes, the success you’re probably envisioning is not entirely without foundation. That said, I still recommend evacuation. Unfortunate for the demons, yes, but cause brings effect. They knew this calamity was a possibility, however remote, and thus to accept the result may also be considered in accordance with the law of power.”

Complicated words, but the gist is: There’s a way. Good enough.

Then let’s try it. Worst case, I won’t die. If I fail, I’m the only one who loses anything.

“Shiki, tell me the details of that method. Mio, help me out,” I said.

“So, you will attempt it.” He inclined his head. “Then I shall first seek permission from His Majesty. Luto is still gathering strength; it will take a moment. Better to have the Demon King’s will confirmed.”

“If you’ve decided, Young Master, then I will gladly lend my strength,” Mio said, smiling faintly.

Shiki hurried off toward Zef. It made sense. If I screwed this up, the demons would take the worst of it. They deserved a say. If the Demon King told me to stand down, we’d simply retreat into the Demiplane.

Rona was still unconscious; her dire injuries were enough to keep Mokuren wholly focused on healing her. That left no one else to rely on. Shiki and Mio were the only ones who could stand with me.

“Six-attribute scattershot breath, huh. Guess I’ll just throw everything into Shiki’s plan.”

I fixed my eyes on Luto’s radiance.

“It will be a joint effort between the two of us, Young Master,” Mio said cheerfully, her voice refreshingly bright amid the suffocating tension.

There are three of us, Mio, but I love your enthusiasm.

Chapter 6

“So, what does that actually mean?”

Shiki had explained it carefully enough, but I couldn’t help asking again via Telepathy.

I was listening, really. I even managed to follow most of it. But by the time he wrapped it up, yeah… about 20 percent of the core idea had slipped right past me.

The Demon King and his generals were too busy barking orders and setting up defenses to spare me their attention.

Maybe that’s why they’d accepted Shiki’s proposal so easily. They’d already shifted to minimizing casualties and decided there was no downside to letting me try.

According to Shiki, nothing serious could go wrong.

“To put it simply: If you elevate your mana not as spellcraft but as matter, you can make greater use of your reserves.”

“So, you’re telling me to turn my construct into literal material?” I asked with confusion.

Even now, I was basically operating my construct like a half-finished incantation. If I wanted, I could complete it as a proper spell just by adding the final keyword. But to force it into substance…

That sounded tricky. Like forging a powerful artifact out of raw magic.

“Exactly,” Shiki confirmed. “I’ll handle the finer adjustments. All you need to do, Young Master, is hold a strong image, something that can take Luto-dono’s attack without letting even the slightest shock wave through. Focus on that.”

Not even the slightest shock wave, huh?

So… a shield? A dome? Something along those lines seemed best.

The problem was that having someone explain the theory in the middle of all this made it hard to absorb. Honestly, it would have been way easier if he’d just said, “Do this exact thing.” I’d already agreed to his plan anyway.

In any case, the countermeasure against Luto’s insane breath was set. And Mio’s role in this had already been decided, too.

“Then I’ll just try it. Even if it fails, it’s worth the attempt. Mio, bend that attack so it all concentrates on me,” I ordered.

“May I erase parts of it if I’m able?” Mio asked.

“Of course, within your limits. Don’t overdo it.”

“Understood. I’ll do my best.”

She lifted her fists in a small, adorable pump—so unlike the usual Mio. It loosened the tightness in my shoulders and took the edge off my nerves. In a word: reassuring.

“Hate to interrupt the chitchat, but I’m about at the ceiling of my charge. Moving to the next phase. Firing in a moment.”

The breezy voice came from within that radiance: Luto.

“Don’t ‘firing in a moment’ me!” I exclaimed. “Read the room, you shameless pervert. Easy for you to act carefree when you disappear right after you shoot!”

“I do feel bad. Very sincerely. At this rate, Akari—who’s back to being an egg—is going to die again. I owe you for this one, Makoto-kun. But listen: By placing an overriding compulsion on myself, this breath becomes the most powerful ‘anti-multiples’ attack I can use. Honestly, I never thought I’d get to try it. It’s… a little exciting, you know?”

I shook my head in exasperation. Luto’s tone had started earnest and ended glib. Yeah. He’s hopeless. Confirmed again.

Does he have any idea how far it is to the mountain where I delivered Akari’s egg? If damage reaches that far, we’re not talking “summoned beast” range anymore. That’s apocalyptic.

“Exciting, huh? Easy for you to say. Fine, at least give me the details!” I snapped.

“As I said: a six-attribute scattershot breath.”

“Then why are you aiming up?”

If it’s a breath, you point your mouth at me and go boom.

Instead, Luto had tilted his head back, maw open to the sky. The overbrimming sphere at the tip of his tongue was drifting upward, inch by inch, separating from his jaws and climbing.

This was getting seriously ominous.

“That’s to widen the area of effect,” Luto explained cheerfully.

“Then why is more energy gathering at your mouth?”

“To boost the final attack power. A dragon facing an opponent without a roar would be breaking tradition, after all.”

“That’s roar prep?!”

Come to think of it, the only Greater Dragon roar I’d actually taken head-on was Gront’s.

My students back in Rotsgard had been traumatized by the lowest-tier dragons’ roars. How bad was Luto’s going to be?

“Plus, I wanted a more dramatic presentation. That’s why I’m layering in a time delay. I wanted this to feel majestic, something you can’t look away from, you know?”

“Right now, I want to punch your husband square in the face.”

So, he’s just scattering strategic-level destruction around with game-style flair. During that exchange, Luto’s wings blazed even brighter within the light.

“Don’t say that. He was a nice guy. You’d probably get along. Anyway, time for the grand finale fireworks. This won’t do anything to you three, so just sit back and enjoy the show.”

The first rainbow sphere Luto had conjured vanished into the clouds.

Then the ground shuddered.

A vibration like a bass note came crawling up through my bones, followed by something wrapping around my entire body—an intensely unpleasant sensation, like the creeping chill of an oncoming fever.

A moment later, with a rush of wind, an animalistic howl ripped through the air and hammered my ears.

I knew instantly.

That’s his roar!

“Mio, Shiki, you okay?” I asked.

“Naturally.” Mio’s voice was as calm as ever.

“It’s difficult,” Shiki admitted. “This is a storm of pressure and continuous status effects. If your resistance falters even for a moment, it could be fatal.”

Mio’s composure was unshaken. Shiki, though, let slip something close to weakness. Rare for him.

Since the roar wasn’t harming me directly, I couldn’t feel it as much of a threat. That disconnect from normal hyuman senses… yeah, that was one of my weaknesses.

Shiki’s words sparked alarm in me.

If this effect covered too wide an area, things would spiral further out of control. Even now, the roar alone was lethal for ordinary people.

“Luto! What’s the range of this roar?!” I asked quickly.

He didn’t respond.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me!”

Silence.

Tch.

He was in some kind of trance, staring skyward, jaws agape. No reaction to my Telepathy, no movement at all.

One of the last things he said was “fireworks,” and then this? What the hell, Luto.

Fireworks. Was he talking about that first sphere?

Wait. Fireworks.

If that rainbow orb had shot sky-high only to burst open later…

… then scattershot was about to rain down.

That’s twisted.

“Mio, sorry, but that ‘breath’ of his is going to cover a massive area,” I told her. “You’ll have to handle it after it falls. I’ll be counting on you.”

“Yes. Leave it to me.”

It was about time to—

Before I could turn to Shiki, a telepathic call arrived. From Zef.

“Your Majesty? What is it?” I asked, watching out for Luto’s next move.

Zef had to be busy directing his forces. Why reach out to me now?

“Raidou-dono. That roar of the Myriad Colors… can you handle it?”

“No,” I replied. “We’re still bracing for whatever comes after. As for silencing the roar itself, we have no means…”

“No. What I meant was, is there any way I could help maintain resistance? But it seems my worry was needless. I don’t know what you intend to do, but even if you achieve a tiny amount of success, you’ll be a hero. You have nothing to fear. Act as you see fit.”

The Demon King himself had just given me his blessing… again. That was reassuring.

“I’ll do everything I can,” I promised. “With your leave, then.”

“Mm. Forgive me for taking up your time. The roar carries, let me see… pressure, paralysis, petrification, induced panic, weakness: Curse Disease at Level 5 in attribute terms. Mental disorders: Curse Disease Level 6. Physical debilitation. Mana attenuation. And more besides. Even from what I’ve cataloged, the sheer number of effects is absurd. We already have casualties. Please, take the utmost care. You, Raidou-dono, and your companions needn’t push yourselves beyond reason. Place your safety above all else. And beyond that… I will pray for your valor.”

“Thank you. Truly, thank you for your concern.”

Luto, you’re really pulling the most deranged stunts, aren’t you?

Weaving curses into a roar.

Whether you know how much I despise curses doesn’t matter. But right now, I want nothing more than to crush this attack of yours.

“Then, Young Master, simply pass the image into your construct,” Mio said. “Picture Luto’s assault gathering, and then being halted, scattered, unraveled. Hold that vision as strongly as you can; I’ll support you from behind.”

“Got it,” I said with a nod. “Mio, stay braced for the assault itself and keep linked with us. Share what you see. Shiki, provide support and continue analyzing Luto’s spell work. I’ll layer in my Realm and put everything into shaping the construct.”

Both of them nodded.

That was enough. Relief settled in me, and I turned inward, focusing wholly on myself and my construct.

Everything, drawn inside.

This was my specialty.

Image.

The image of stopping the converging attack, holding it down, containing it.

“Ninth Tier: Gemini—Release. Spell Servant, the One Who Complements and Completes.” With that, Shiki split himself in two.

“Threads of the sky, fill the void. Black Net: Heavenly Mesh.” Mio had cast her web into the heavens.

Power stirred close by.

When I looked straight up, the entire sky was now woven with her power—an endless net of black threads spread across the vault above.

I turned inward.

Deeper, quieter, I sank into myself.

Stronger, sharper, I shaped the image.

Transforming my construct into substance.

A shield…? No.

A net…? No.

A mirror…? No.

None of them fit. None of them clicked.

I needed something greater. Something more absolute. A manifestation of power itself. Something that could grip and crush any assault. Shatter it utterly.

Yes. Crush. That was it.

The power to obliterate.

The image came to me: the colossal four-armed giant. A symbol of force itself. The gauntlets it wore, massive armguards that were bone-plain, unadorned, and utterly reliable.

Io’s titanic arms, clad in that brutal machinery.

Yes. That.

But bigger and stronger.

Arms that could seize and annihilate anything caught between their palms. That was what I needed to summon.

Decision made.

I let the image guide me, and my construct’s arms swelled, taking on form. Becoming real. All that was left was to go deeper still, to sink into that state—so much like the trance of battle—that carried me beyond hesitation.

From far behind, I felt the rhythm of Shiki’s incantation rising.

His chant followed the path I was hacking open through the wilderness of my own mind, like paving a road behind me.

I wasn’t alone.

In lockstep with his Gemini double, Shiki was processing at triple speed.

From the outside, the way he kept speaking his long, long incantation looked like a duet, two voices chanting together.

He’d said Gemini could divide abilities beyond just creating a decoy, and this time, it seemed to be boosting his spell-processing capacity.

“Young Master, may I?” Mio’s voice slipped into my mind.

With Luto’s roar saturating the air, actual speech was impossible; naturally, we were all relying on Telepathy.

Even Shiki’s chant, I wasn’t hearing so much as reading in the movement of his mana.

“What is it?” I asked.

“That pervert’s roar. It’s threatening to spread beyond the demon city. At this rate, the attack will too…”

“Unbelievable. The ultimate nuisance. At a level that would instantly kill ordinary people. They’re already reporting casualties. Got it, I’ll try to do something about it.”

Maybe the citizens here lived by the “law of power” and wouldn’t complain even if they died; however, “the city is intact, but the people are wiped out” was not an outcome I could stomach.

I didn’t know if I could erase a roar already unleashed, but I had a plan. Might as well try.

“No thanks,” Mio said. “The range of the attack will widen further. I don’t know if I can cover it alone.”

“You mean you need mana?” I asked.

“Yes.” Mio nodded. “With your power added, I can use something stronger. Of course, it will burden you, Young Master, so only with your permission.”

Mana? That was no problem.

If it required me to do something special, I might hesitate. But my mana was basically limitless. If it could help, I didn’t mind at all.

Mio’s task came first, and she meant to complete it, though depending on how you listened, it was also a way of caring about collateral damage. Not that it was priority one in the heat of battle.

“Sure,” I told her. “Take as much as you want.”

“Thank you so much!!!” Mio could barely contain her excitement. “Then, please… how shall I put it? Open the valve? Yes! The link between you, me, and Superfluous Shiki: Please widen it, and open yourself to me as fully as you can!”

I’d been feeling odd pressure while shaping my arms, so I decided to fulfill Mio’s request first.

“Got it.”

I focused on the link Mio had set up between the three of us, carrying situational data, and imagined opening it wide to her, pouring mana into her like water through a floodgate.

“Fuh… ufufu! It’s here—Young Master’s mana!” Mio’s voice was filled with absolute satisfaction. “Supreme… delicious and blissful… To be filled with your power! With this strength, there’s nothing I can’t do!”

Yeah. Best not to ask questions.

As long as she was stronger, that was what mattered.

“Forgive me, Young Master. Could I ask the same of you?” Shiki requested.

“Oh, you too?”

“Luto-dono’s roar is putting more strain on me than I expected. It’s slowing my incantation support. I’d like to face this at full readiness.”

“Sure.”

I opened the flow to Shiki as I had to Mio. It was less like granting and more like sharing, opening a common reservoir.

“This… ah!” Shiki exclaimed. “So, this is what it means to open the door—no, truly, my thanks. Young Master, with this, I can support you fully!”

“By the way, when I try to shape the arm, it feels like something’s interfering… A strange resistance. Is that because your support’s delayed?”

My construct’s arms were now noticeably larger than usual, denser than any other part of me, the shapes of my imagined design slowly sharpening into form.

A weird noise kept cutting in when I tried to envision the thing more concretely, as matter rather than a spell.

My focus keeps getting interrupted. I can’t get this to take form properly.

Maybe it was the trade-off: I’d roughened my chant to dig deeper into concentration, leaving the details to Shiki.

“That noise you’re hearing… that’s probably it. One more step, Young Master. Go deeper, embody that arm with greater strength,” Shiki advised.

“Got it. I’ll slow my pace a little. I’m doing a few different things at the moment. Shiki, keep analyzing Luto’s attack while you support.”

Shiki’s support accelerated, his incantation pouring into me all at once. It wasn’t yet at the level of my own focus, but since I’d planned to slow down a touch, his speed would probably outpace mine temporarily.

I glanced around and saw that the underground buildings were starting to crumble. We stood under open sky now; the spectators must have had a hell of a time getting out.

Zef and the generals gathered, deploying their barriers to protect themselves. Rona lay still, her wounds deep enough to take her out of commission, but Mokuren was busy healing her. The other three generals and the Demon King were weaving defensive spells together.

Messages were flying over Telepathy, frantic and constant; I didn’t try to parse them all, but the confusion was obvious.

All right. Time to go.

I lifted the relaxed hand I’d been letting hang at my side, opening my fingers and calling a weapon into being.

In short order, the familiar weight of my bow and its fittings settled into my hands—it was finally starting to feel like mine. I hung the quiver at my hip and raised Azusa in my left hand.

A ritual of the sounding string.

My teacher had shown me this, but I’d forgotten the finer details.

Originally, it was supposed to be nothing more than a ritual. But I was pouring my magic into it, aiming for an actual effect.

Focusing on spreading it as far as possible, I drew the bow, pulled it back without nocking an arrow, and let the string sing.

When the vibrations faded, I did it again.

And again.

Three times in total.

Now then, just how effective will this be?

As that question crossed my mind, Shiki’s speed in supporting the spell suddenly spiked, far surpassing mine.

Oh?

“Luto-dono’s roar doesn’t even affect me anymore!” came Shiki’s jubilant voice over Telepathy. “So, this was the ‘thing you had to do,’ was it, Young Master?”

At least the protective magic of my sounding string was covering Shiki. With my Realm pouring everything into creating the arm, I couldn’t get a clear sense of what was happening in the city, but if it reached that far, all the better.

All right then. Since Shiki’s caught up, let’s go all out without worrying about the noise.

An annoying telepathic message from Demon King Zef tried to intrude, but I ignored it; I needed all my concentration to shape that arm.

Once I finish this, I’ll stop. And if anyone within the safe zone’s still afflicted by the curse-plague, I’ll quickly heal them before I go back to—

From Luto’s mouth erupted a breath like a crimson laser, tearing through the clouds and spearing straight into the rainbow-hued orb above.

It was the first time in a while I’d seen the sky.

From the pierced sphere came a rain—no, a barrage of rainbow-colored projectiles, falling like some celestial firework show.

They’re… they’re far more numerous and widespread than I imagined!

The thick clouds broke apart one after another, showering the land below with that so-called rainbow breath.

Calling this a “breath attack” was ridiculous—it was more like a colossal volcanic eruption.

“He’s certainly good at doing what he sets his mind to. That pervert!” I shouted. “But know this: Even he can’t outwit me today!”

Mio’s web—no, her vast net spread across the sky in an instant, expanding to match the range of the incoming rainbow shrapnel.

I could feel my magic flowing into her, strengthening the weave. The black threads that stretched across the heavens caught the multicolored barrage like an enormous trap. Even the few projectiles that slipped between the strands were intercepted by strange sigils of dim shadow, stopping every last one from reaching the ground. Not a single fragment fell.

“Ah—!”

Mio’s startled cry was matched by the brief blankness on her face.

Following her gaze, I saw it: A single rainbow sphere had escaped the net and fallen far beyond the horizon. Where it struck, a pillar of thick multicolored light connected sky and earth.

I’ve never been out that way, so I don’t know what’s there… but at least it’s not a demon city, and it’s not the mountain where Akari’s staying.

“Mio,” I prompted. “Don’t worry about it. All you need to focus on right now is keeping that net up and directing the breath toward me.”

“Ahh… I’m sorry, Young Master…”

From here, even I could see the massive pillar of light rising from the impact point. The vibrations and sound reached us only after a delay.

One hit… and it caused that.

If hundreds of those things hanging in the sky all fell at once, forget a single tree, even the ground might not remain.

Watching Luto’s attack dissolve into particles of light as he vanished, I couldn’t help but be genuinely appalled.

What a nightmare. Well, at least Tomoe’s probably already scolding him back in Rotsgard. I’ll save my lecture for later.

For now, there was no time left. The noise was getting worse by the second.

If this were a radio, I’d have given up listening by now. It’s like the static snow on an old TV just before the picture vanishes completely.

Was it a side effect tied to the materialization itself? Whatever the cause, I had to dig in, focus harder, and strengthen my image.

Turning magic into matter is tougher than I thought…

“Shiki,” I said. “The noise is unbearable. I’m going to push forward in one go. Will you be all right?”

“Yes,” Shiki replied. “Do as you see fit.”

“Thanks.”

I closed my eyes and sank deep into myself.

In my inner world, I sliced through the constant, grating noise with one hand, cutting it all away in a single motion.

With the other, I swept aside the mist clinging to the “arm” I envisioned, trying to reveal its full form.

I focused on nothing but that task.

Silencing the noise was easy enough once I faced it directly.

Frustratingly, the mist wouldn’t clear. The arm’s shape was vague, like a shadow at the bottom of deep water, difficult to touch, impossible to fully see.

Desperately, I reached for it, as if diving to the ocean’s floor, pouring all my strength into pulling the distant shadow into my grasp.

I don’t even know how far Shiki can follow me now.

At last, the moment came.

What felt like an eternity to me had passed.

I offered silent gratitude to Mio for holding the attack at bay, and to Shiki for staying with me this far.

I can do this.

A pair of massive arms took shape before me, so heavy with menace they seemed almost cursed.

Overly ornate, stripped of any organic warmth, their mechanical joints gleamed coldly—hands that belonged to a machine, not a man. Robot’s hands.

All right. Touch it.

Create it.

I reached out and, with a steady breath, laid my hand on the gleaming silver arm.

Shiki

It’s here, I thought.

Not long after Young Master closed his eyes, the two arms—enormous now, etched with intricate, shifting contours—separated from the body of magic that had formed them.

At the same time, a grinding screech filled the air, shrill as a scream.

Unlike Luto’s roar, it carried no corruptive force to gnaw at the listener’s mind. It was simply a sound, purely, painfully unpleasant.

I knew just what it was.

Moments later, Young Master opened his eyes.

He held a gentle, almost innocent expression that seemed worlds apart from someone who had chosen an image of “crush and destroy” over “halt and disperse.”

My mouth was sealed by my ongoing incantation, but I met his gaze and nodded, pouring what little strength remained into finishing my support.

I could have spoken to him telepathically, but even that effort felt too precious to waste now. Soon, we would witness something no one in this world had ever seen before.

Young Master had broken through what he called “the noise of interference,” seizing the path of this spell—no, this act.

As for the true nature of that noise… even I had my suspicions.

Magnificent.

All that remained was for me to complete the final requirements of my support. Thanks to the power of the ring, I had created a duplicate of myself, one capable of extending my magical assistance.

With more than twice my usual processing capacity, I offered what meager contribution I could to this great undertaking. It was difficult, yes, but explaining the act was far simpler than carrying it out.

For high and complex magic, the first step—the opening of the path—was everything.

Young Master often praised me for my ability to smooth and stabilize that path, but the truly fearsome one was he.

He hacked through darkness without a guide, cutting a path where none existed, and charged ahead without the slightest hesitation.

Improving and refining an already established path so that it functions better, while necessary, was something anyone with sufficient skill could do. But stepping into uncharted territory, into realms no one has ever reached before… that was the true miracle.

Every time I assisted Young Master, it was a series of revelations—a learning experience beyond measure.

At last, I completed my support.

The Demon King and his generals don’t know how fortunate they are to stand and witness this.

How unfortunate for Rona, lying there without consciousness, to miss it entirely.

Behold.

Young Master’s new step forward.

From the fingertips of the twin arms—now separated from his magic body—the transformation began. I could feel awe rising within me, wrapping around my very being. There was no need anymore to veil the obvious truth. I had softened my phrasing, made it simpler, so as not to burden him with the full reality.

“It is done,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “To achieve this without being a god… How far can a hyuman being go?”

Not as a Grant, one of those higher beings, but as a mere hyuman.

Even with assistance, even with guidance—

What limitless potential lies dormant within our kind?

My fascination will never end. This is why I could never stop serving Young Master.

“Creation,” I murmured. “The creation of a vessel—an image made manifest.”

Looking upon the silver arms, I felt so moved I nearly wept. The grating sound echoing around us was the world’s own scream.

What he had called “interference noise” was, I realized now, the resistance of the world itself—its refusal to accept an unqualified intruder forcibly twisting its laws with raw magic and theory.

Yet he had crushed it.

Silenced it.

With nothing but his own will and strength.

Of course, such a person could even think of opposing the Goddess herself.

Shaking with pride at being this man’s servant, I turned once more to the one who had accomplished this miracle.

“Young Master?!” My voice cracked as I called to him.

“Young Master! What’s wrong?!” Mio’s voice overlapped mine, sharp with alarm.

At that very moment, his knees buckled. He was collapsing before our eyes.

“I’m fine!” Makoto’s voice rang in our minds. “Just a little tired. Don’t let your guard down, either of you.”

His face was ashen, drenched in sweat. He looked anything but fine. Yet I knew him. He would never say it aloud. When things were truly unbearable, he’d hide the truth behind a calm mask.

That was why I would have to give my full support later, once this was over. Right now, it was time to focus on Young Master’s feat and on the work he meant to accomplish with it.

I still had tasks left, orders he’d entrusted to me.

“Mio,” Makoto’s voice rang across Telepathy. “Let all the attacks pass through and redirect them at me.”

“But your body can’t… no. All right,” Mio replied.

Through the open channel between the three of us, I could also hear Young Master’s words.

So, the moment had come. He was truly going to use those arms.

“Shiki,” he continued, “analyze that attack right away. You’re close enough, so it should be possible for you. Then, make a mixed attribute that can erase it—the counter-element.”

Luto’s breath… and I was to create its counter-element?!

Even with Mio’s net holding it back midair, that thing was a masterwork of destruction.

Impossible.

No matter how I tried, it couldn’t be done.

And to do it on the spot? Unthinkable.

“Young Master,” I sent back, “forgive me, but that’s not possible. I’ll analyze it quickly, but at best, what I produce would be a degraded imitation.”

“It doesn’t have to be the perfect counter. Anything is fine as long as it can erase the attack. Even if the power isn’t enough, I’ll handle that part. Shiki, just find the attribute balance. Adjust it so it zeroes the attack out.”

How reckless… and yet—

If this were only about erasing it, then perhaps. Creating a true counter-element would demand artistry. But for something meant only to cancel out an attack, a weapon would suffice.

With the right information, it might be possible.

Still, “Even if the power isn’t enough, I’ll handle that part.” What did he mean by that?

“I’ll try,” I told him.

In the end, all I could do was obey my master’s will.

“If you need it,” Makoto added, “you can do like Mio. Use my magic directly to power up Gemini.”

“To draw even more magic from Young Master when he is clearly exhausted…” I began.

Knowing the burden makes it even harder to act.

“Don’t worry about it,” he urged. “I said it’s fine. These arms have their own work to do, and so do I.”

More work.

He already sensed something else approaching.

Of course. Could it be Luto-dono’s “delayed attack”?

I had assumed the roar followed by the breath was the entirety of it. But no one ever said it would be.

“Young Master,” Mio said, “I’ll drop the spell, then. While holding it, I’ve managed to eat… I mean, erase about ten of the projectiles, but it’s getting too difficult. I’ll take you up on your offer.”

As expected of Mio-dono.

Even while sustaining a massive web of magic high above us, she had customized it further to intercept the spheres.

All of Mio’s spells were her originals, operating entirely beyond normal theory. From time to time, Young Master and Mio discussed her chants, but to my ears, their conversations were nothing but riddles.

“It’s fine,” Makoto’s voice came again. “Sometimes it’s good for you to lean on me. I’m always relying on all of you, after all. Go ahead.”

“Black Web Heavenly Snare: Warped Transmission.”

At Mio’s command, the black net that had blanketed the sky—so vast it might have covered everything—began to fade, thinning until it became invisible.

The artistically perfect mixed-element shrapnel, each sphere of rainbow light, had its falling point warped. All of it descended again, now toward one single point: Young Master.

The sight was breathtakingly beautiful, almost dreamlike.

The true centerpiece of this moment lay elsewhere. Floating a few meters before Young Master were the two arms. They gleamed like weapons forged by dwarves, radiantly beautiful.

They hung in midair as if poised to clap together, palms spread wide, the space between them vast and waiting. And into that open space, at last, came Luto’s first blast of breath.

Astonishing!

Between the two hands, there was nothing.

Nothing at all, yet somehow…

Just before reaching that space, the rainbow shrapnel was drawn in as though by magnetic force, funneled between the open palms. There, each sphere compressed, shrinking to the size of a human fist and staying fixed in place.

A second blast. A third. A fourth…

Every fragment followed the same fate, one after another.

Over a hundred projectiles now merged together. Though the mass swelled larger, it remained contained, no bigger than a human head, suspended perfectly between the arms.

At first, I thought Young Master would manifest some enormous shield, or perhaps a cloak-like barrier, to intercept them.

What stood there instead were arms like massive gauntlets. They were holding the deadly shrapnel in a way I could scarcely believe, drawing it all into a single point, suppressing it without a trace of collateral damage.

Ah. Yes.

It reminded me of that moment in the earlier battle with the demon general, when he crushed a sphere of molten rock in one hand. Only now, he meant to gather every single shot into that empty space and crush them with both hands.

“Shiki,” Makoto said. “I know you’re thrilled it worked, but don’t just stare at it. Are you analyzing?”

“A-Ah, at once!”

“Good. Once you’re done with that, I’ll try erasing this thing. If that works, we can call it a success. Still, knowing Luto, he might follow up with some kind of finishing blow.”

“I do not believe Luto-dono to be the sort to cling so stubbornly, Young Master…” I replied carefully.

“It’s not about his personality,” Makoto countered wryly. “The real problem is the ‘source material’ he was modeled on. It’s just like in fiction. The more recent the works, the more they tend to drag out the spectacle with excessive finales.”

“I see.”

Though I hardly understood his reasoning, I forced myself to accelerate the analysis.

Fire, water, wind, earth. Light and darkness as well.

Even with so many conflicting attributes, the attack was adjusted into a grotesque harmony, each element amplifying the others, creating destructive power enough to reduce an entire city—or even a fortress—to cinders in a single strike.

If such a thing truly fell upon us, everything would be swept away, consumed, and annihilated without a trace.

Truly, Luto had a cruel streak.

No matter how great the scepter from which this power was drawn, no matter if it annihilated the enemy, in the end, it would annihilate everything, including the caster.

Or perhaps only the one at the core, Luto himself, would survive… yet that, too, was unacceptable destruction.

If this really was one of Elysion’s divine tools, worshipped as the Goddess’s own… what was its intent?

If Elysion had grown accustomed to relying on it, invoking a dragon’s might again and again, until catastrophe finally came, then…

It may not have been demons who destroyed Elysion at all… It may have been their own divine tool.

No. I mustn’t fixate on this.

The past is already set.

The future is another matter.

My task here is simply to find the attribute that can serve as its natural enemy.

Makoto’s voice rang out, taut with effort. “I’ve caught them all. Now for the rest!” Ever so slowly, he was bringing the two arms closer together.

The collected mass of Luto’s shrapnel writhed as though resisting, some spheres swelling or bursting inside the field, but not one fragment escaped the space between his hands.

“This is exhausting… but!”

Young Master’s face still hadn’t recovered; there was no sign of relief in his expression.

To be honest, I had no idea how much mana creation consumed.

It seemed impossible that even Young Master’s mana—recognized by gods from another world—could run short. I found myself wondering if being pushed to his limits would be a good way for him to grow.

Perhaps there had been some miscalculation. Or perhaps the problem lay in what had been created itself.

Young Master’s mana.

That boundless reservoir.

Now, for the first time, it had been reduced to a level I could measure.

Still far above the clouds to one such as me, but measurable nonetheless.

Anxiety bloomed within me.

Could it be that we were running out of time?

I felt it rising, that creeping dread threatening to disrupt my concentration, and I could not hold it back.

“Shiki. Calm down. It’s all right. It’s working,” Makoto reassured me.

A pleasant warmth soaked through me, and I felt the anxiety ebb away.

“You must be fairly drained right now, Young Master. You shouldn’t be doing this for my sake,” I protested.

“I know. When I made those arms, I lost about half of it in one go. I feel like I’ve never had less mana in my life. The students talk about getting mana sickness when your mana runs dry, and I get why they worry about it. Still, this isn’t the moment for you to be panicking. My part is nearly finished.”

“But you are the leader!” I blurted out.

“I can hear you. This arm won’t last long. Tossing something into real combat without being combat-proof will have Eris the forest ogre tearing into me later, but that’s exactly the point.”

Combat-proof? I set that aside. There was no time to dally.

The gift had been given; it could not be refused. The mana Makoto poured into me—I didn’t route it into the Gemini already deployed—I poured it into myself, or more precisely, into the Thirteenth Tier, Riesritza.

Bound by the Contract of Domination, Young Master’s mana, already like a second skin, was amplified through the ring and suffused my form.

A sense of omnipotence flooded me, and the attribute analysis leaped forward.

Light and dark formed a foundation like a taijitu—the visual form of yin and yang, arranged in a strange equilibrium that let them dance together, amplifying one another. Upon that base, I layered the four elements.

Water reinforced wind, wind strengthened fire, fire supported earth, and earth uplifted water; each elevated the next, and those elevated attributes, in turn, acted as auxiliaries, spiraling the power ever upward.

The more I examined it, the more it revealed itself as a work of art.

Art or no, my task was simple: Destroy it.

All I had to do was return it to nothingness.

I hunted for the balance that would unravel the foundation of light and darkness.

At the same time, I searched for the attributes that would nullify the first pivots—water and the wind that received it.

Hurry. Hurry.

Not in panic but with cold precision, I accelerated the analysis further and kept probing for a composition that promised erasure.

Light and darkness. Fire, and the three remaining auxiliaries.

Found it.

The ratio that would let that breath be erased.

“Young Master! I have it!” I called out.

“With this, vanish!!!” Makoto shouted.

The silver arms clapped.

The rainbow sphere didn’t explode anywhere. It simply ceased to exist.

Breathing hard but no longer on his knees, Young Master moved immediately to his next course of action.

Even if an enemy had somehow pierced through the magical body’s defenses and landed a single desperate strike, they would learn that nothing, absolutely nothing, about the battle would change.

I pitied such a foe from the bottom of my heart. When it came to combat, this man knew no weakness. And I thanked the heavens once more that he stood on our side.

“Mio, status?” Makoto queried.

“The ascent has stopped. It’s coming!” Mio replied.

“So, it is!!!”

Hearing their exchange, I finally noticed what had seized their attention.

Had I only turned my focus that way, I would have understood at once; we were linked, after all. How careless of me.

The shot Luto had fired into the heavens had reached the starry height, then bent its course and started to fall.

Perhaps it, too, housed a core, just like the shrapnel.

But Young Master had the arms—

They’d fallen.

Both silver arms lay on the ground, utterly still. There was no power left in them at all.

I recalled Young Master’s words: “This arm won’t last long.”

That alone was proof enough. If he had to abandon the arms and shift to my secondary plan, attribute analysis, then his exhaustion must already have been far deeper than he let on.

The burden on me was immense.

Even so, the balance I crafted alone would not be enough to halt Luto’s final strike. Falling from such heights, it was multiplying its speed and power at an accelerating rate. To completely erase it, one more hand was needed.

“Judging by the rate of acceleration, I estimate we have three minutes at most,” I said.

“Three minutes, huh… Mio, sorry, but I’ll need you to buy us more time. Don’t worry about my mana. It’ll hold,” Makoto ordered.

“Very well. That net of mine isn’t suited for blows of this magnitude, but I’ll try,” Mio replied.

“I’m counting on you. Shiki, I’ll need you to embed your attribute spell into my arrow.”

Young Master had drawn Azusa, his bow. And in his right hand, he held the weapon known as a uchine, a daggerlike blade bound with cord.

He lifted his right hand toward Azusa, placed it on the string, and the cord straightened as if it were a shaft driven through a core—becoming a true arrow.

Finishing his preparations overhead, Young Master began to draw, slowly, deliberately, sighting his mark.

So, this is what he meant. That he would handle the threat himself.

He never intended to simply endure the strike. His aim was to erase it utterly.

Such breadth of vision, even at the very edge of desperation. If such insight were unleashed beyond battle, what kind of figure could he become?

But no. Precisely because he does not, that is what makes him our master—Makoto-sama.

Three minutes. Even for me, that was far too brief.

I called upon Gemini as well, pushing my crafting speed higher. But above all, the attribute balance had to be flawless.

Since the arrow Young Master loosed would be mighty in its own right, there was no need to bolster its force. Better to weave a pure enchantment from the start, infusing only the exact attribute needed to erase Luto’s attack.

And then—

I felt it. Young Master’s presence growing faint. Proof that his focus had reached its zenith, that he had become one with his bow.

No matter how many times I’d experienced it, the feeling was always murder on my heart.

“Right on schedule, are we? But Young Master asked you to buy us some time!” Mio snapped.

She narrowed the black web she’d spread across the sky, reshaping it for a tighter redeployment.

A thick rainbow beam slammed into it.

Although it had been no match for the compressed shrapnel earlier, this time, its single-shot power was far stronger.

Mio twisted her vast creation into the shape of a bug-catching net, focusing all of it on one point to catch the beam. Even so, the force nearly warped it out of shape.

“Uuugh…!”

Her face contorted with a pained grimace.

Will it actually break through?

“Shiki,” she snapped over Telepathy, sensing my thoughts, “you’re thinking something rude again, aren’t you?! Punishment later! This time, borrowing power from Young Master—by a woman’s pride, never!!!”

Every time, I tell myself I’m good at keeping a poker face. And yet Mio and Tomoe always see straight through me. Every single time.

If she punishes or lectures me today, I may actually see the afterlife.

Still, no matter how I looked at it, she was being overpowered.

The fact that she was holding it at all, even briefly, was extraordinary. Normally, one could neither warp nor withstand that kind of force.

“Be still!!!”

The push stopped.

Even at this distance, deploying such a spell was insane.

Not just Young Master, even the seniors whose backs I should be chasing felt impossibly far ahead of me now in their capabilities.

I looked at Mio with a mixture of awe and respect. She stood there, glaring up at the sky, and something about her was different.

“Mio-dono. Your hair?” I asked without thinking, even amid my incantation.

Her hair now flowed down to her waist. Just a moment ago, it had been its usual style.

“Oh, it’s grown, hasn’t it? A trivial thing.” She flicked it aside. “More importantly, Shiki, hurry up.”

Trivial?

“And your hair,” Mio continued sharply, “has gone and turned black like mine and Young Master’s. Insolent, isn’t it? Either way, we’ll talk about that later. If you fail while I’m holding this back… You understand what that means, don’t you?”

Hair? Mine?

Black?

N-No… now’s not the time. I just have to complete this spell.

“Shiki,” Makoto called calmly. “As soon as your spell is ready, give it to me. Mio, hold on just a little longer.”

“Y-Yessir!” I answered at once.

“Of course, Young Master. You may leave it to me for as many hours as you please,” Mio declared.

The glare she threw me immediately after screamed the truth: “Not a moment later than necessary.”

I understood.

Young Master stood motionless, bow drawn, his gaze fixed on the rainbow beam. He must have already been prepared.

Before long, my own spell was complete. I wove the enchantment seamlessly into Young Master’s uchine, now shaped into a flawless arrow.

“Mio,” he called out. “Release it!”

“Yes!” she cried.

Young Master let out a slow, controlled breath.

Then, calmly, silently, he loosed the arrow.

A single streak of light—rainbow-colored like the enemy’s, yet narrow, precise, and sharp—soared upward. It collided head-on with the descending beam, striking its mark unerringly.

The massive, crushing radiance was erased in an instant, and only Young Master’s rainbow flash lingered across the sky.

I had been holding my breath the entire time. At last, I exhaled deeply, relief flooding through me.

Thank goodness. Success.

“As expected of you, Shiki,” Young Master remarked, his expression betraying exhaustion. “But the uchine’s gone. I’ll have to apologize to the eldwars and ask them to make another…”

“Whatever enchantment I bestowed, Young Master, it was you who guided the shot without fail. None could match that.”

A single arrow soaring to meet such a spell. By all logic, it should have been impossible. Yet I had never doubted it for a second. Such was the measure of his strength.

They’ll hardly complain. After all this, no dwarf would begrudge the loss of a weapon. More likely, the eldwars will greet you with a grin from ear to ear.

“Well done,” Mio added. “Still… if only the Greater Spirits had lent their aid, this would have been less arduous. Always full of words and never the deed.”

“Mio-dono. Their shrines are within the city as well. It’s only natural they would wish to defend their own surroundings.”

Young Master hadn’t asked me to explain, but I offered the thought anyway. Both Mio and I had asked the Phoenix and the Behemoth for aid. Both refused.

Their reason: Their own shrines lay within range of the attack.

They wished to prioritize guarding those sanctuaries, even if the scope was small.

Neither of us had any authority to command them. If they said they were unavailable, we could only nod and step aside.

With such an attack looming, their decision made even more sense.

In fact, it was undeniable that their shrines had become places of refuge. I doubted how many direct hits those sanctuaries could withstand, but anyone who had fled inside had surely survived Luto’s roar, at least.

In hindsight, it had been the right choice not to press them.

“Well. Death isn’t necessarily the end.”

“And even if you die, that doesn’t mean you can’t keep living.”

Those had been their words—the immortal bird who rises again and again, and the earthborn monster who rules even the undead. A sentiment unique to them.

With that, I exhaled and let my gaze drift toward the Demon King.

He said nothing, only stared up at the sky.

Small wonder. When something surpassing common sense of war unfolded before you, what else could you do?

Young Master was visibly exhausted.

I decided then: We would delay our departure. He needed to spend the rest of the day resting. I would handle the immediate aftermath myself.

That much, at least, I could do for him.

As for the “arms” and the scepter lying discarded so pathetically nearby, they needed to be retrieved. Leaving them behind to be misused would be unacceptable.

I sent both into the Demiplane: The eldwars would no doubt rejoice at the silver arms. As for the scepter, well, best no one lay hands on it again.

If the Demon King’s people questioned me, I could feign ignorance. The arms vanished. The scepter? Never saw it.

A strong wind brushed my cheek, plastering my sweat-damp hair against my skin.

I wiped it away, and in the edge of my vision I saw it clearly, my hair.

Truly black.

A side effect, perhaps, of Young Master’s power flowing into me. Another thing that would need investigating… but for now, the Demon King’s party demanded priority.

Led by Zef, they were already approaching. And so I fixed my course of action for what came next.

Chapter 7

The Demon King and his generals, along with Raidou and his two followers, returned to the city.

After the battle, while talking to Zef, Raidou had suddenly collapsed, but the healers diagnosed it as nothing more than fainting from extreme mana depletion.

Now Demon King Zef himself carried Raidou in his arms, addressing the gathered people about his immeasurable service.

There was a moment of silence, and then, like Luto’s roar shaking the region, the cheers of the citizens exploded, resounding throughout the city.

Some thrust their fists into the air. Others wept openly. Many shoved and strained for even a glimpse of Raidou’s figure.

That fervor spread outward from this venerable city, washing across the demon lands, and the benefits it would bring to Raidou and the Kuzunoha Company could not even be imagined.

Sari and Lucia sat in a quiet room amid the commotion of the castle, watching from a window and speaking in hushed tones.

“With this,” Sari murmured flatly, her voice giving no hint of emotion, “Raidou has become a hero of the demon race.”

“He saved the nation from crisis,” Lucia replied. “It’s only natural. Even as a merchant, he won’t have any rivals now.”

“I’ve heard it was also Raidou who erased that overwhelming roar midway.”

“Which means most tricks and roundabout tactics will fail against him. As for a frontal assault, forget it. We’d be helpless. At this point, all we can do is laugh.”

Lucia gave a bitter smile and shrugged.

Just then, Roche and Sem appeared in the doorway, calling out, “Sari, Lucia! His Majesty will be back shortly. Things will get busy, but first comes the welcome for our hero. Quickly now.”

“Got it. Go on ahead. We’ll join you in a moment,” Lucia answered.

“So, long as you arrive after us, that’s no problem,” Roche warned. “But missing the arrival altogether will not be tolerated.”

“Yes, Brother. We understand,” Sari replied.

Once their brothers had left, Sari and Lucia once more turned their gaze upon the frenzied crowd and the Demon King’s entourage or more precisely, upon Raidou, cradled in their father’s arms.

In Lucia’s eyes, not a trace of hostility toward Raidou remained.

“After seeing that battle… after witnessing what he accomplished today… I’m convinced,” Lucia said solemnly. “That man cannot be made our enemy. For that cause, I would pay any price.”

“Yes,” Sari murmured softly.

“That’s why it shouldn’t be you, Sari. Let me take that role instead. Now, I can truly say I would live for his sake.”

“No, Sister. It cannot be you. Someone who looks like me will face far less rejection from them.”

“But—”

“And besides… look.”

Sari cut off her sister’s protest, pulling open the collar of her own garment to reveal what lay beneath.

Lucia inhaled sharply. “I see. But if you find a way to contact me, if ever you require my strength, do not hesitate to ask. Promise me that, Sari.”

Lucia’s expression softened into a faintly sorrowful smile as she laid her hand on her younger sister’s shoulder.

“Thank you. I promise I won’t hold back if that time comes.”

“You act with such speed… When did you… That ritual requires part of the target’s body, does it not?”

Lucia’s eyes flicked again to Sari’s chest.

There was a mark over her breast. From afar, it might have looked like an oval birthmark, but closer inspection showed the design of a collar, entwined with chain and script, a pattern of questionable taste.

A closer look revealed that it was an intricate sigil, layered with minute characters forming a complex design.

Lucia knew exactly what it was.

The brand was carved by a special ritual.

And so she understood. It was already too late. There was nothing more to say.

“Raidou is terribly oblivious about such things,” Sari added with a faint smile. “On the way back from the shrines, I told him he had a white hair. He let me pluck it straight away.”

“Truly, he’s an easy one to handle,” Lucia muttered.

“Yes. Simple enough. But that makes him all the more frightening. First, we must secure his trust. Then, if possible, bring as many demons as we can into his circle. That’s the goal.”

“I can only pray for your success. Come. If we fail to join the welcome for His Majesty and the savior of our nation, we’ll only earn the people’s resentment.”

The two sisters left the room at a brisk pace, hurrying down the corridor to take their place in the reception.

“My role is a grave one. I won’t be able to return here. And yet…” Sari whispered to herself, almost wistful. “I find myself a little excited to learn what shaped Raidou and what kind of man he truly is.”

Her murmur was lost in the swell of noise.

※※※

“Raidou’s awake,” Rona reported, sitting beside Zef in the great hall.

Reacting immediately were the two massive Greater Spirits, the Phoenix and the Behemoth.

“A day and a half,” the Phoenix remarked, her tone touched with faint exasperation. “His recovery is fast.”

The Behemoth gave a heavy nod of agreement.

“For one such as he, it is believable enough.”

Present in the chamber were only Zef, Rona, and the two spirits. Io and Left were away, working to restore order in the aftermath.

By rights, Rona ought to have been engaged in the same duties. Her presence here was more unusual than the absence of the other demon generals.

As for Mokuren, he seldom attended any gathering that wasn’t strictly essential. For him, research was both his purpose and his greatest contribution to the nation.

“And you, esteemed ones?” Zef asked respectfully. “How do you see him?”

“If you mean to draw him in,” the Phoenix answered coolly, “then abandon that thought. He is a blade without a sheath, razor-edged, sharp enough to cut through anything, heedless of what lies before him.”

“Indeed,” rumbled the Behemoth. “No matter how great the strength, if a single misstep can destroy a nation, then such power is not meant to be held. Sooner or later, it will outgrow any who attempt to contain it. And yet, the nature of hyumankind is to keep trying.”

“In other words… you’re telling us not to touch him?” Zef asked carefully.

“That’s right,” the Phoenix replied. “He appears to be one who is quite easy to manipulate. I’m aware that you have considered ways to use that. But this is the kind of gamble where you either seize everything or lose it all. And you demons have already risked your entire race by rebelling against the Goddess and by enlisting the help of Greater Spirits to do so. That bet need not be made twice.”

“We are not allies of demons alone,” the Behemoth said. “Our duty is to lend our power to all races of this land. From that position, we say this: Do not make use of Raidou in war. If you do… we may be forced into silence.”

“Even though it meant losing the Goddess’s favor, you have continued to lend aid to us demons,” Zef answered with a solemn bow of his head. “In the matter of Raidou, we shall act accordingly. We will not draw him into war, nor will we exploit him.”

At those words, a wave of relief spread among the Greater Spirits.

To see such beings show joy and sorrow at mortal choices shocked Rona. And with that sight, the unease she felt toward Raidou only grew heavier.

“Then so be it,” said the Phoenix. “Zef, the Goddess herself, is in a most constrained state at this time. Consider this knowledge your reward for wise restraint.”

“Indeed,” the Behemoth added gravely. “Leaving Raidou untouched is best. We would carry this counsel to the Goddess herself, though whether she would listen… that is another matter.”

Their massive forms trembled once, and then they vanished.

Thus ended the dialogue between those who bestowed blessings and those who received them.

“A being that even spirits fear. One, they want to warn the Goddess about. Truly beyond my comprehension,” Zef murmured, shaking his head. “And those arms Raidou produced, at such terrible cost… could it truly have been creation, not summoning?”

“They say he consumed far too much mana for it to be a mere summoning of some artifact,” Rona replied. “But creation is an act of the gods. If Raidou has accomplished such a thing, then it means he has already begun to step beyond the limits of hyumanity. Surely your speculation has gone too far.”

“Heh. That would be the normal conclusion. But after what we saw with the Dragon Horde Scepter, one cannot help but peer at even the slimmest possibilities. However, you are right. It was reckless of me to speak so, as a king. Forgive me.”

“The scepter’s activation calling Luto… I admit, I failed to anticipate that. I thought it would serve well enough as something for them to cling to and, at the same time, as a convenient way to sweep away unwanted elements. But instead…”

“Yes. Raidou recognized Luto in an instant. Which means he may be connected to the very pinnacle of the dragons. We have no proof, of course, that what appeared was truly him. Still, there are few dragons capable of unleashing an attack of that magnitude.”

“We have already begun investigating Luto’s appearance. But whether or not Raidou knows the dragon personally, his threat is paramount. The truth of whether that was Luto changes nothing. The fact remains: We have no means to remove him or even defend ourselves against him.”

“Just so,” Zef sighed, rubbing his temple. “It makes my head ache.”

He fell silent, and Rona answered with silence of her own.

The subject of Raidou never seemed to brighten the air.

“Rona,” Zef said at last, “you’ve done well in this matter. That you were injured at the end was my negligence. Forgive me.”

“This body is yours entirely, Your Majesty. Please don’t trouble yourself. Whatever stains your hands should not bear, I will take upon mine. That burden is my pride.”

“But it is not right that I lean only on you. My immaturity brought you harm. Do you know what that means to me?”

“I wish to see more of the country you will build. To do whatever brings you joy. That is all I desire. I serve not the demons, nor the Demon King as a title. I serve only you, Zef-sama. If you would lean on me, that would be more than I could wish for.”

As she spoke, her smile was radiant.

A smile like no other, reserved solely for him.

It was too deep, too intimate for a mere vassal bond. Any onlooker would have thought the same.

“Then my only way to repay you is to realize the nation I envision,” Zef murmured. “Truly, I have a demanding retainer.”

“Use me as you will,” Rona replied softly.

“Very well. Now, Rona, what of the present state of the insurgents?”

“Yes. In the recent attempt on Your Majesty’s life, all the leading extremists perished. It served to draw them out perfectly.”

“Had that man been willing to lend me his strength, he might have been a true ally.”

“But reconciliation was impossible. His hatred for Your Majesty ran too deep.”

“Indeed. Tell me, among the rebels, how high has your standing risen?”

“With the key figures removed, I now stand first or second among those making decisions. Give me a few months, and I could well become their leader. After all, I used my position as a demon general to feed them information, and though the attempt failed, I still brought a blade to within a hair’s breadth of Your Majesty’s throat.”

“If Raidou is to be the hero of the demonfolk, then you—the last remnant of the Suto line—are the hero of the rebels.”

“It served me well to take the blow you loosed at one of them. Even those who oppose us now believe I protected my kin. That impression will linger.”

Rona spoke with a faint smile. She had once been the very source of the scandalous leak Zef mentioned in the past, and he knew it. He knew her two names, and the dangerous truth behind them. Were the rebels ever to learn of this conversation, it would not be hard to imagine their despair and the burning hatred it would kindle toward both king and general.

“You nearly let a vital strike through in that chaos. It chilled my blood,” Zef pointed out.

When the armed band burst in, a blade cut toward him in the confusion—an instinctive, desperate strike that might have landed had it truly been unforeseen. But Rona ensured Zef knew of the assassin, staged the attack alongside the would-be killer, and then took the wound herself. Exactly as planned.

“Mokuren was there as well. I never doubted I’d survive,” she replied lightly.

“To them, a demon general at my side must have seemed their best chance at seizing the king’s head,” Zef mused. “To have you there… you must have been a beacon of hope.”

“Yes. In truth, I only guided the rebellion’s momentum. I never intended to let it reach Your Majesty.”

“Shields alone cannot protect forever. The best is to wield both shield and sword, and do it yourself. A foul part to play but necessary. Rona, I would have you continue to serve me in this.”

“Yes. I’ll seize the reins of the rebels’ leadership. Everything will move according to Your Majesty’s design.”

In the empty hall, the two concluded one of the highest secrets of demon race. The matter ended in silence.

※※※

So, yeah. I’m Raidou, the guy who collapsed, got carried around princess-style by the Demon King himself, and then slept for a day and a half straight.

I thought I’d wrapped things up in style. But in the end? Totally ruined the mood.

When I reported to Tomoe, she sounded delighted and told me to hurry back. When I woke, Mio was curled up in bed with me. And Shiki? He looked like he’d worked himself half-dead, sporting dark circles under his eyes from sheer effort.

Way to go, me. Some performance that was.

Oh, and Mio’s long-hair look? When I woke up, she was back to her usual bob cut. Shiki’s hair, too, had gone back to its usual crimson instead.

The city itself was surprisingly intact. Sure, some buildings were damaged, and there were casualties, but the place was already buzzing with life again.

Zef told me, “I explained your deeds properly to the people,” which at first, I didn’t really get. But once I went out to walk the streets, it all made sense.

Within minutes, I was mobbed. People swarmed me, shoving food from stalls into my hands—into my mouth, really. All free. Or rather, forced on me until I could barely chew.

Not torture… welcome. Definitely welcome. Just the overwhelming kind.

By the time I came to my senses, I was standing in front of the castle gate, my arms overflowing with souvenirs.

It was… a lot.

Somehow, even with all those people crushing in on me, I didn’t get pickpocketed. Not even once.

For a city that wasn’t exactly famous for its spotless security, that said a lot.

The mood was basically: Thanks, you bastard, we owe you one!

Well… considering I managed to hold back Luto’s breath, I decided I could accept this much as a fair reward.

That night, a banquet was held, the festivities spilling out into the castle town, carrying on straight until morning.

Since word had gone out that I was still recovering, no one aside from His Majesty and the demon generals approached me directly. I was left only with the distant weight of everyone’s eyes on me.

Which, honestly, was plenty painful on its own.

Even the briefest greeting at the feast drew an immediate response.

The next morning, Shiki presented me with a literal mountain of letters. Every one of them was from the lords of demon territories, begging me to bring trade to their lands or at least to accept an invitation to visit.

I considered putting Tomoe, the gorgons, and a few of the winged folk together in rotating teams to handle such requests.

Of course, if a proper shop were opened, I’d have to show my face now and then. Better to hold off on deciding about storefronts too quickly. For now, itinerant trade would suffice.

And so, despite my ungraceful collapse at the end, we came at last to the day of our departure from the demon city.

Naturally, I told the demons we didn’t need an escort for the trip home. We were already late leaving; if they forced us to spend more days on the road, it would hurt both my lectures and the company. The plan was simple: Once the blizzard masked us, we’d head straight to the Demiplane.

“Then, Your Majesty. We’ve imposed long enough. Allow me to take my leave,” I said with a bow.

“A shame,” Zef replied, his tone tinged with regret. “I had hoped Raidou-dono might tour some of our other cities as well.”

After the incident with Luto, he hadn’t pressed marriage talks again. For the most part, he discussed matters with Shiki rather than with me. Honestly, that made him far easier to deal with. Just politeness, I figured.

“Next time, perhaps,” I answered cordially. “I’ve already received several very passionate invitations. Once I clear away some of my pending duties, I’d like to travel your lands more broadly.”

“That would please everyone,” Zef said, nodding. “It will mean trouble for you, but I ask it nonetheless.”

“Yes. I won’t forget the generosity of this welcome. With that… Farewell.”

Just as I was about to step forward. All right, time to head home—

“Ah, wait, Raidou-dono.There’s one final gift from the demons.”

Yeah, no.

Nope. That line— “one final gift”—that’s never a good sign. I have a bad feeling about this.

“And what might that be, Your Majesty?” I asked cautiously.

“Sari.”

“Yes,” came the answer.

Sari stepped forward through the crowd.

“Sari-dono?”

I hadn’t seen her at all today. But now that she appeared, something about her immediately struck me as off.

It was her outfit.

Not a dress. Not formal wear.

A maid's uniform.

The kind I’d seen demonfolk maids wear—practical, plain, with little ornamentation. Far simpler than the term “maid outfit” conjured in my mind. Hardly any frills at all.

It gave quite a modest, subdued impression.

The frilly kind I was used to was what the forest ogre pair at the company wore on Fridays. They called it “Maid Day.” Sometimes it turned into “Pajama Day” instead, so it was all pretty slapdash.

That part didn’t matter.

The real problem was why Sari was dressed like that.

“Raidou-dono… No, Master. As promised, I dedicate this body to you and swear to serve at your side as your retainer for the rest of my life.”

Without the slightest hesitation, Sari sank to her knees and bowed her head.

Uh, what?

“Young Master, might I ask what this means?” Mio’s voice was low and cold, her presence practically radiating with the kind of ominous “gogogogo” sound effect you only see in manga backgrounds.

I had no clue either. Not even the faintest idea!

“Uh… I mean… I have absolutely no idea,” I managed to choke out.

“Then the girl must have gone mad. I shall dispose of her at once,” Mio said.

“Please wait, Mio-sama,” Sari said evenly, lifting her head. “You must have heard the promise I made to Master.”

“I have no recollection of such nonsense. To spout such fabrications—”

Mio’s words were sharp, but Sari met her gaze without flinching.

I realized too late that I’d frozen up entirely. Mio had just declared, in all seriousness, that she would kill a demon noblewoman on the spot, and I hadn’t stopped her. One second longer, and an important official would’ve been murdered right in front of me by my own retainer.

“I was referring to the incident at the Spirit Shrine,” Sari explained steadily. “In my arrogance, I begged of Master and his companions more than I should have and swore upon my very name and life, ‘I promise you will all return without injury.’ Yet in the end, it was I who had to be saved. Therefore, with my name and life pledged, from this day forth, Sari belongs to Master.”

“Wh-Wh-What?!”

Before I could even process her words, Sari suddenly pulled open her collar, baring her chest.

Not that it was anything indecent. Honestly, she had… well, let’s call it a modest figure. There wasn’t much to be flustered about in that sense. But the sheer abruptness of it still made me panic.

“This,” she said, pointing firmly to the mark on her chest, an oval-shaped sigil etched into her skin.

A tattoo?

“It’s a mark of loyalty to Raidou-sama,” Sari replied, her voice steady. “A proof of my pledge to submit to his orders. By a ritual handed down among demons, its power has already taken effect. I can deliver information about demons to my master, but never my master’s information to the demons. You may use me as a tool without fear of betrayal.”

“In that case,” I began slowly, “why not stay home and continue on as—”

Before I could finish, Zef interjected.

“That’s impossible, Raidou-dono. That ritual is considered the ultimate punishment among demons. It is one of our most ancient rites, rooted in the very essence of life itself, and we have refined it over countless generations. To undo it would destroy the soul of the one bound. It is so severe that we hesitate to employ it even on the gravest offenders.”

“Well… even if it can’t be undone, if I simply ordered her to act as though—”

“That is also impossible,” Zef said firmly. “How could we allow someone who, by your very words, is compelled to betray the demons, to remain among us as the child of the Demon King? Regrettably, she can no longer hold any position in our political hierarchy. Or is it common in your country for those sentenced to death to go home and go back to their lives as if nothing happened?”

“Guh…”

Still, how could I just take a demon maid home with me? Out at the base in the Wasteland, maybe. But in Rotsgard? That would be a nightmare.

Maybe in Tsige… though, even if Rembrandt personally accepted her, the whole city might not. Bringing someone into the company when she couldn’t actually be placed anywhere… that’d be a problem.

And now she’s speaking as if her life’s already been decided for her…

“Then it’s best she die,” Mio cut in at last, apparently fed up with the back-and-forth between the Demon King and me. Her voice carried no hesitation. “That would be the simplest choice for her, for us, and for the demons. We can pray she’s born in her next life without such cowardice. Surely, she can die in peace with that thought.”

Yet Sari remained utterly unshaken.

“Is that truly your will, my lord?” she asked quietly.

“Young Master,” Mio said, glancing at me with impatience. “Tell her already. Tell her she’s a nuisance.”

Seriously? You’re dumping this on me now?

What the hell was I supposed to do?

If we could undo the ritual ourselves, we could at least take her in for a while on that premise…

“Shiki,” I called. “Can you undo this ritual?”

“I can’t say for sure whether that would solve the problem,” Shiki replied, his voice calm but thoughtful. “But, given enough time, it should be possible. It’s essentially just an elaborate set of procedures. This girl would likely survive. However, the analysis would take considerable time… ten, even twenty years.”

“That long?” I muttered under my breath.

“Even so,” Zef said gravely, “given what she might say during that period, Sari will not be able to return to the demons. Should I still be Demon King when that time comes, I promise at least to shelter her and grant her a life in seclusion.”

From his tone, I could feel the pressure, as if he were saying, “Don’t you dare agree to this lightly.” So, this was the final card he’d been holding.

“If my master commands my death,” Sari said suddenly, her expression utterly unchanged, “then here and now, I will obey.”

That hit a nerve. She was accepting death far too easily.

This girl had been a promising child of the Demon King, hadn’t she? Sure, people die all the time. But someone who’s made promises, someone with things left to do…

“You shouldn’t speak of death so lightly, Sari-dono,” I said, my voice low.

“But I’m already my master’s possession,” she replied. “If he commands me to suffer, I will suffer. If he commands me to die, I will die. This is the fitting form for one who failed to keep her promises.”

“Was your life really so cheap that you’d discard it over a single broken promise?”

“For me,” she said quietly, “that promise was not something to take lightly.”

“Then I have no use for someone like that,” I snapped. “I want the people who live alongside me to live long lives.”

“I understand.”

It happened in an instant.

Before anyone could react, Sari snatched a dagger from within her robes and drove it into her own neck.

Hey! I didn’t tell you to die!

“Sari-dono?!”

There was no answer.

Of course there isn’t.

Still, something was wrong. Demon King Zef didn’t move. The demon generals didn’t move. Nobody did.

“Shiki, can you save her?!” I barked.

“Save her?” Shiki’s voice was level. “You would save someone you’ve already declared unnecessary?”

“Listen, just because I say I don’t need her doesn’t mean she can go and die! Besides, this girl was important to the demons—”

Shiki shook his head slowly, without heat.

“If she were important, they would not be standing still. In other words, Sari-dono has already completely lost her standing among the demons. If you have no intention of taking her in, then, as Mio said, letting her die would be for her own good. Even if she lives, she will not have a decent life.”

I glared at the Demon King—no, I glared right through him. They’d raised her as one of their own, hadn’t they? Could they so easily abandon a child like that?

“Raidou-dono,” Zef said, voice flat and heavy as a closing gate, “I understand your anger. But Sari performed the ritual alone, taking your hair without consulting anyone. This rite is one of the deepest stigmas among our people. We cannot save her. In this case, my personal feelings are irrelevant.”

The demons’ silence meant the ritual carried absolute weight.

Lucia bit her lip as if restraining herself, but she did not act. She only stared at me—no hostility, and no pity for Sari. Damn it. I didn’t deserve that look. Of course, she probably wasn’t glaring; it was only my mind turning the silence into accusation.

Sari went and did the ritual by herself and bound herself to me, so why was everything turning out like this?!

Mio and Shiki remained composed, watching.

What should I do? Let her die like this?

I barely know Sari; I don’t feel anything special for her.

She was unnervingly mature, not nearly childish enough. A demon who’d tried to grow up too fast. That alone didn’t make me want to teach her how to be a kid. If she were only a nuisance, then, fine, I could abandon her.

“Raidou-dono. Setting aside that she’s a slave now, there’s something I neglected to mention. Do you have a moment?”

Zef passed beside the fallen Sari and came close enough that his shadow fell over me. Her blood was pooling; the crimson looked wrong against the cold stone. What in the world was he going to do now?

“Your Majesty, um—”

“Come.”

He led me a short distance away from the crowd, though we could still see Sari, Mio, Shiki, and the others. Then he spoke through Telepathy.

“There’s something you should know, Raidou-dono. Sari is the only one among the Demon King’s children who carries my blood.”

My face went pale. I felt the warmth drain out of me. His daughter—raised as one of his own, treated by him as a father—yet he had just now told me nothing would be done for her. Was he truly going to uphold his duty as king over any trace of paternal feeling? Was he going to let blood be ignored in the name of law?

Zef’s voice was flat but not unkind. “She is the product of a brief affair, a child whose mother I no longer recall. I have never married; officially, I have no heirs. Even so, I do my utmost for those born of the Demon King, whether they are my true blood or not. But this act—branding herself with that stigma—has placed her beyond the protections I can wield.”

“Then why tell me she’s your child?” I demanded.

“Because I would have you take her,” he answered without hesitation. “I’m not asking you to marry her; the mark she bears makes that impossible. I only ask you to keep her at your side. Let her serve you closely. She may endure the hardest of tasks; I care not what work you give her, so long as she remains near. That much, at least, is her wish as well. Only this once—too late though it may be—allow me, as her father, to grant my daughter a selfish desire.”

“Even a wish like that? Your Majesty… that’s unfair. It’s cruelly unfair!”

“I know. I accept the scorn it brings. But I cannot cast aside my crown. That is why I resort to such cowardice in asking you. That is all. Forgive me for taking up your time.”

He released me, and without another glance at Sari, Zef returned to his place.

Not even a flicker of his gaze fell upon her.

Damn it.

Damn it all!

I—

I racked my brain in silence.

“Most likely,” I said at last, “Sari will come to regret it. Branding herself with that mark so recklessly.”

“No,” Sari answered from where she lay bleeding. “Not unless you command me to.”

“Please. Stop talking like that. Just speak however you find easiest.”

“Very well. If that is your wish, Master.”

We parted ways with the demon retinue, and before long, our small group stopped in the blizzard, snow hissing against cloaks and skin. The demons’ eyes could no longer reach us.

As long as we weren’t seen, Shiki’s barriers would block any magical tracking. That was why I allowed myself to pause here.

“Young Master, you’re far too soft,” Mio said at once, puffing out her cheeks in open displeasure. “She’s not a stray dog or cat you can just pick up! A girl like that won’t be of any use.”

“I had a feeling you’d end up taking her in,” Shiki added, his tone neutral, “but how do you plan to use her? In demon lands, even placing her in a shop as a clerk would be impossible.”

I remembered how cold he sounded back there. Cold but only because he’d been thinking of me.

I’d thought. And thought.

And in the end… my decision in that moment had been to save her.

I’d had every opportunity to abandon her. Honestly, I wrestled with that choice longer than I’d like to admit.

I couldn’t see any future where Sari—who’d worked so hard as a member of demon society—would ever find comfort among them again. What awaited her was hardship, plain and cruel. She’d have to endure it. And if she was the kind of person who could choose death just because I said the word, then she had no right to complain now.

Still… choosing to take someone’s freedom away felt heavier than ending a life on the battlefield.

“If Rotsgard won’t work, and Tsige’s out of the question… then there’s only one place left.”

“Ah, Kaleneon, perhaps? Yes, if it’s there, a demon could manage. She might even do well as the first to open the path,” Shiki suggested, sounding almost approving.

Kaleneon? No. Sari would stand out there like a sore thumb. Zef had briefly floated the idea of settling demons in that land, but if it happened, it would be with a larger group, not a lone girl thrust in as a “first resident.” No—that wasn’t going to work. Not now, not ever.

“No. I’m taking her to the Demiplane.”

Shiki’s eyes widened in surprise. Mio’s too.

“That’s my decision.”

“Young Master…” Mio exhaled, her tone edged with disapproval as she glanced at Sari the way one might at a stray animal. “She’ll be completely alone there. There are no other demons there.”

“And for the Kuzunoha Company,” Shiki added, brows furrowing, “the Demiplane is the most closely guarded secret of all. Until we’re certain the ritual doesn’t carry any hidden tricks, letting her in might not be—”

“I’ve already decided,” I cut him off. “Sari will never leave the Demiplane. Whatever she learns there, whatever she hears, it won’t matter. It’s like a prison that there’s no escape from. She’ll spend her life there, working in seclusion. Think of it as a… locked room, where she can only live out her days in quiet labor.”

“I won’t argue,” Sari said softly. “Wherever my master takes me, I will go.”

“Yeah. I know. I’m taking you now. To the place that will be your final home.”

At least there, maybe she could forget what she once was to the demons. Maybe she could stumble onto some kind of purpose. If she did, my guilt might not feel so suffocating.

Because this was neither true mercy nor true punishment. It was a half-measure, a coward’s compromise.

That fact wasn’t lost on me. I knew full well I’d chosen the path of half-death.

At least I could be certain her actions hadn’t been part of some organized plot; the demons’ reaction to the ritual proved that much. A small relief, but a relief nonetheless.

And me? I was still too soft.

Maybe it was because of how deep I’d sunk into myself when creating the “arm.” I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was just driven by that ordinary, human instinct. That pity that whispered, “Don’t let her die like this.”

So, here I was, returning to the Demiplane after a long absence… with a new resident in tow and a heart weighed down by lead.

I needed a change of pace. My mana still hadn’t fully recovered. A short rest might do me good.

※※※

Ah… I’ve done it again.

This might be the worst yet.

I was dreaming.

That dream again.

I was exhausted. I should have stayed in Rotsgard tonight instead of returning to the Demiplane. Careless. That was careless.

As soon as I realized what I was seeing, I clutched my head inwardly. This strange dream—so bizarre that even Tomoe can’t analyze it—why now?

Around me stretched a void of pure darkness. Nothing visible this time. But I knew. Out there, in that blackness, was another “me.”

Haah.

“I hate it.”

What?

“I hate it all. The Goddess, this rotten world, everyone living in it—”

It was a completely different pattern than before. No images, no scenery. Only thoughts. Probably “my” thoughts.

“That sanctimonious woman who used me up and smiled like a saint. That lust-blinded brat building a harem, reaching for things that weren’t his. They make me sick!”

That’s… extreme.

I can agree about the Goddess and this world’s ugliness, sure. But the “sanctimonious woman” has to be Hibiki-senpai, right? And the lusty brat is definitely Tomoki.

Does this “me” really hate the two heroes that much? What could have happened to push him so far? I can’t even imagine…

“And yet.”

Huh? Something felt different.

Something was rising up inside me, crawling from my gut like bile.

This had never happened before.

“Why is it? Why is it that no matter how many I kill—kill and kill and kill and kill—I feel nothing? I’ve taken revenge, I’ve struck back. I should be full. There should be satisfaction. So, why is there none? Why do I feel no joy, no matter how many I slaughter?”

Ugh… nauseous.

It was like someone had reached into my stomach and churned it with their bare hands while spinning me blindfolded.

I can’t—!

I clamped my teeth, fighting the urge to vomit.

Nothing came out.

Of course, nothing did. This was only a dream.

The “me” lying in bed—he must have been twisting, grimacing.

I felt awful.

I opened my mouth, defeated by the sickness, and still nothing came.

And yet “I” wouldn’t let go. It kept pouring its misery into me, feeding me wave after wave of that same, unchanging, bottomless loathing.

My head throbbed, sharp, relentless pain.

This was unbearable. It felt like hell.

I wanted it to stop.

“Should I kill more? The Goddess, this world, all the scum who live in it. If I slaughter them all, will I feel anything?”

No. Stop.

Your voice is making me sicker.

I prayed the monologue would end, if only to ease the rising nausea.

“I can’t go back. I have no allies. Everyone is my enemy. If they’re hostile, they deserve death. Kill them, and the danger lessens. Kill everyone. Children grow into adults; women bear children. Mercy will only get me killed. Better to throw it away before it destroys me!”

Stop!

No, no, no!

Sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick. My head spun, and my stomach clenched until every nerve screamed. I wanted to tear the world from my mind and flush this dream away.

Anyone, just make it stop.

End this nausea.

Erase this insane nightmare!

“Sorry about that, lad. Seems my little gift misbehaved a bit.”

“Ah—huh?”

Someone had answered the scream that had ripped from the bottom of my chest.

“Not that it’s been long, but we meet again. Do you remember me?”

“Ah… Daikokuten-sama?”

“Mm. I’m glad you remember. Tell me, have you been having strange dreams lately?”

“Yes.”

“How much of them do you recall?”

“They were all me, talking to someone else.”

“I see.”

“What are they? Are they my future? Will one of those dreams come true?”

“Heh. That’s a sly question, lad. I suppose you already suspect the answer.”

“That is—”

“Enough. Whatever mistake of mine caused this, it’s still my fault. Those visions were, as you guessed, versions of you that took different paths.”

“So, they’re about a me from another world?”

“Yes and no. I couldn’t explain it in a way you’d grasp right now. But if you understand it that little, there’s no need to worry. Live on without fear.”

Daikokuten’s expression never lost its calm as he stood before me. The darkness, the sickness that wouldn’t let me be, the dull headache, all of it had simply vanished. The voice too—gone.

A pale light had seeped into the room, not quite morning but close. An early dawn. It washed the space and softened Daikokuten’s outline, leaving only the faintest details: a face, a hint of ornamentation, everything else hazy and half-formed.

My own face was a mess, tears and snot smudged over it. I felt embarrassed to step into the brightening day, so the dimness suited me. That small thought was enough to tell me my wits were coming back to me.

“But what about the nausea just now?” I asked.

“This time you were strangely close to that other self,” Daikokuten said. “So, instead of merely seeing, you felt him—his emotions.”

“That was an emotion?”

I could say with certainty: It was not a gentle thing.

“People collect experiences and carry a bundle of feelings,” he went on. “That other self had pushed his emotions to the brink in that scene. He told himself he felt nothing, and yet despair, bewilderment, rage, sorrow—every emotion swirled together. Then a clean, unmarked you, with no shared experience, plunged right into that storm and tasted it without any preparation. Your mind couldn’t process it. That’s what made you so sick.”

Daikokuten smiled at me with an expression that somehow eased my heart.

“Rest easy. The chance of that kind of thing happening is, for now, pretty slim.”

A god’s stamp of reassurance. How comforting. But…

“Thank you,” I managed.

“Don’t let words alone convince you, lad. Still unconvinced? I shouldn’t be talking about other worlds, but as an apology, I’ll tell you a little. Only for you, mind. The being called Misumi Makoto, who managed true creation, that was only ever you. The moment you created that arm, you set yourself on a path different from every other Misumi Makoto in other worlds.”

Creation?

Oh, that silver arm. The one Shiki hauled into the Demiplane. Tomoe had gotten oddly excited about it.

I’d thought it was just mana turned into matter, more like a dwarf forging a weapon than some divine creation.

“No. I think that was not creation but something harsher, something different,” I said.

“Hah. There’s no soft or rough creation. To take mana and make something that did not exist in the world, that’s creation. You might imagine something grand like remaking the world, but even if you simply produced a pebble out of nothing, that is still creation.”

Suddenly, that sounded unbelievably impressive. Even Tsukuyomi had said the power of creation was special. I’d thought what I did was merely transmuting mana into an object.

“If that’s the case… did I do something terrible?” I asked.

“You did, lad. You used a power even gods can only wield in limited ways, and you did it in hyuman flesh. Had it gone differently, the Goddess herself—if not restrained by our collar—would have flown to you and started a war before dawn.”

Oh. That was close.

That was really close.

“That, too, is partly our doing, you know,” Daikokuten said with an amused twinkle in his eyes. “The archery drills we commanded, the growth of your mana. But to think you’d break in the power of creation so recklessly. Truly, I was astonished. My blood hasn’t boiled like that in ages.”

When Daikokuten’s blood boils, that sounds terrifying, I thought.

“Well,” he went on, “it’s a good tendency nonetheless. Makoto, listen. Don’t walk the royal road only out of sentiment. Don’t tread the conqueror’s path guided only by reason. The reverse is also true. Don’t rush. Slowly, slowly, at each moment, think, decide, and do what you believe is right. You may already know it, but you carry something troublesome that was never meant to awaken. Don’t let it swallow you. Keep walking forward as a hyuman being. Do not escape into destruction. In that sense, your decision about that demon girl was commendable. As a king’s judgment, it would fail, but as a hyuman’s judgment, it was not bad.”

“I’ll think more carefully before I act. Sorry,” I murmured.

“Ho! I didn’t mean to lecture you,” Daikokuten chuckled. “This trouble started from seeds I planted, after all. Dragons, spiders, the lich. You already have fascinating vassals. The next one as well…”

“The next?”

“Ah, kukuku, I’ve said too much. Talking with you makes my tongue loose. In any case, I’ll make sure you don’t have those dreams again. Wake up for now, wash your face, then rest. Morning will be busy.”

“Morning?”

“Heh. I’ll say no more. Farewell, lad… Someday, stop my Pinaka with that silver arm of yours. I look forward to meeting you alive again.”

Without even a lingering rhyme, Daikokuten’s form dissolved and vanished.

And then, I was sitting up in bed.

Thank god I didn’t vomit.

I blinked a few times, letting the room come back into focus, then swung my legs out and went to wash my face.

It was only about midnight. No wonder I’m awake; I went to bed early tonight.

“Next follower,” “Morning will be busy”… He said some ominous things, I thought, splashing cold water onto my cheeks. But he’s the one who stopped that nightmare, after all. Daikokuten-sama… what did he really come for?

Could it have been just for me?

No, that’s impossible. A god wouldn’t do something like that for one person… would they?

Then again, it’s not like I could ever understand a god’s true intentions.

Forget it. Sleep.

The god himself told me to rest, after all.

Yeah. Sleep.

I pulled the futon up over my head and quietly closed my eyes.

Author: Azumi Kei

Was born in Aichi Prefecture. In 2012, Kei began serializing Tsuki ga Michibiku Isekai Dochu (Tsukimichi: Moonlit Fantasy) on the web. It quickly became a popular series and won the Readers’ Choice Award at the 5th Alphapolis Fantasy Novel Awards. In May 2013, following revisions, Kei made their publishing debut with Tsuki ga Michibiku Isekai Dochu.

Illustrations by Mitsuaki Matsumoto

http://transparnaut.web.fc2.com/

This book is a revised and published version of the work originally posted on the website “Shosetsuka ni Naro” (http://syosetu.com/)

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