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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Have You Perhaps Gone Mad?
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Thud thud thud—
The air-splitting whoosh was impossible to believe came from mere fists clashing, whipping Roger's hair wildly.
'What should I do?'
Roger weighed his options. The future awaiting him boiled down to two paths.
Either side with the Demon King and be branded a traitor to humanity forever.
Or get handed over to the princess and rot as her slave for life.
In truth, agonizing over which was better was pointless. Both were the worst of the worst.
But if he had to pick the lesser evil, it was the former.
'He's a Demon King, but not the vicious monster from the rumors.'
He was utterly bizarre, but that very oddity gave Roger a sliver of breathing room.
'The princess, on the other hand...'
The princess's madness was infamous even within the kingdom. Her obsession with fine weapons and jewelry—especially her fixation on the artisans who made them—bordered on insanity.
'If she catches me, she'll squeeze me dry.'
He'd get squeezed by the Demon King too, but not to that extent.
It helped that Berge's identity as the Demon King hadn't been exposed yet. To the world, Roger was just an artisan who'd fled rather than craft for the princess—not a betrayer siding with the Demon King against humanity.
'And above all...'
Roger touched the necklace around his neck. The moment he sided with the princess, it would kill him. The Demon King wouldn't let him off easily.
With his resolve set, Roger crawled awkwardly toward the magic tool.
'Even rushing it, it'll take at least ten minutes.'
He had to sever the connections wrapping around the entire workshop along the walls.
'I can't take the whole vine. First, just the main body...'
Roger's hands moved busily. But without any tools, progress was agonizingly slow.
'If only I had a knife or an axe...'
As long as the main body survived, it didn't matter—whether he detached the connections or hacked them off with an axe, the result was the same.
That's when he spotted the half-finished metal lump in his vision. It was meant to be a sword.
The problem? It lay smack in the middle of the Demon King and princess's battlefield.
Gulp.
Going for it meant turning into Roger-paste.
"That sword! I need that sword!"
In the end, begging was all he could do.
Fortunately, the Demon King understood. The problem was, so did the princess.
"How dare you..."
The Demon King and princess locked eyes. Both reached for the sword simultaneously.
The princess grabbed the blade first. But a kick came flying over it.
Thwack—
She swallowed her breath. Even through the dizzying impact, she didn't let go. That was her misfortune.
Her opponent was the Demon King. One who showed no mercy, even to a princess.
Crack.
Her fingers shattered under the vertical heel drop. A small scream escaped with the half-made blade, which flew into the Demon King's hand and then to Roger.
"Thank you!"
What followed was the best outcome for Berge and the worst for the princess.
Her obsession with the blade led to her fingers snapping all too easily, drastically reducing her combat power.
Unilateral offense and unilateral defense.
The battle dynamic was the same as before, but the roles reversed.
"...!"
Wounds began accumulating on the princess's body, one by one. Against the thick killing intent, all she could do was resist and flail.
And fortunately, her flailing worked.
"Princess!"
"Enemies!"
Knight who'd rushed in at the commotion drew their weapons.
"It's done!"
Right on cue, Roger shouted. The Demon King kicked the princess in the gut, shoving her away. The massive magic tool vanished without a trace.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Your Highness...! Your hand!"
"..."
The princess gazed mournfully at her fist. It was small. Unlike the burly hands of other dwarves, hers was dainty and refined.
It hurt. But the mental distortion outweighed the physical pain.
If only it hadn't been so small.
If only it had been big and thick like the other dwarves'.
She wouldn't have lost it so pathetically.
She wouldn't have broken and been defeated so futilely.
Her aimless rage naturally turned toward her guard knights.
"What the hell have you been doing?"
"...We're sorry."
"You couldn't even show up until I was dead?"
"...We're sorry."
"Does 'sorry' regrow my hand? Does 'sorry' mean go catch those bastards right now? Instead of apologizing, chase them down that passage. Order the lord to find those fuckers no matter what!"
"Understood!"
A few knights threw themselves into the passage. Messengers raced toward the lord's castle.
"...We're heading back to the capital."
"Princess?"
"I need to see Father."
Roger wasn't the one who'd done this to her. But his voice echoed clearly in her mind.
- I need that sword!
If she hadn't gotten distracted and fixated on the sword, her hand wouldn't have broken so pointlessly.
She wouldn't have been beaten so stupidly.
'If only that damn Roger hadn't abandoned his weapon mid-craft and vanished.'
None of this would have happened.
The princess ground her teeth.
"Roger Friedri dared defy this princess's command and deceive me. He will pay the price."
"I'll beg Father and capture the bastard myself."
She'd make him regret today for life.
Without fail.
She vowed.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The dwarves' pursuit was relentless.
Their short legs moved with surprising speed and agility. But their quarry was the Demon King.
Those tasked with abducting princes and princesses prioritized stealth above all.
Tracking the Demon King through rough terrain was impossible for them.
"...I might really never be able to go back to the kingdom now."
Roger whimpered gloomily.
"Your premise is off. It's not 'might'—you flat-out can't. The moment you go, you'll be thrown into the capital's underground prison. Execution's unlikely given your talent—they'll keep you around to use. Likely as a royal slave, or worse, the 2nd Princess's personal slave, holed up in a workshop all day."
"..."
The vivid nightmare future drained the color from Roger's face.
"...Y-you think so?"
"Certain. If it's the 2nd Princess I know."
"You seem to know the 2nd Princess well."
"I know her enough."
It was a rather stubborn bad blood between them.
Heroes were warriors chosen by the dimension itself to fight invaders, but not all powerhouses were heroes.
Heroes simply had authorities suited for battling invaders well—not being a hero didn't mean they were weaker.
Rare as they were, the 2nd Princess of the dwarf kingdom was one such case.
"Doesn't matter much, does it? I don't let things that come into my hands go easily anyway."
"...Yes, of course."
That crushed the last flicker of hope in the dwarf hero's pipe dream of "what if."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Three months had passed since the hero's journey began.
Hillun deliberately progressed north at a snail's pace, meeting people along the way.
Their numbers grew steadily.
No enemies blocked their path.
On the surface, it was a smooth hero's march. People mocked that the Demon King, terrified of Hillun's fame, wasn't sending monsters.
But Granada realized discord was brewing within.
"Damn, what kind of hero's march has zero monsters?"
"Where are they? One ogre pops up and hundreds swarm to divvy it up—not even a claw for us?"
"The strong ones snag all the good stuff anyway. Are we here for free charity?"
"At least the feasts are frequent."
Hillun lavished local lords and nobles, so the dissent was minor, but Granada saw great significance in its mere existence.
'It's proof Lord Demon King's assumption isn't entirely off.'
A Demon King thinking this way might spin it into a deeper scheme.
Granada nursed his drink with that in mind. This feast was hosted by a noble inviting the hero's group.
Packaged as expected generosity for a hero, the goal was shares in the loot from conquering the Demon King's Tower.
'What faces will they make if they learn there's nothing?'
Granada chuckled softly.
Then, Bark—decently drunk—approached him.
"Captain, heard the rumors about the Demon King?"
"Demon King?"
Granada flinched briefly.
'No way they know I'm the Demon King's subordinate... Impossible.'
The Demon King hid his identity thoroughly. As far as he knew, nothing could expose it.
Sure enough, his worry was unfounded.
"The one who built the tower in the Erjest Mountains wields fire."
"Fire?"
He did wield fire. Granada had seen black flames up close.
But never in front of humans, as far as he knew.
"Where'd you hear that?"
"It's buzzing among the nobles. Spread to those who've joined the hero's march too. Talk of gearing up accordingly."
"Flame-resistant gear, right?"
"Wouldn't bet against it. With Hildeラン Kingdom's backing and merchant sponsors, they can afford it."
"Is it confirmed the Demon King uses fire? No one's even seen him."
"Dunno the details. Just hearsay for me. But plenty are treating it as fact."
Granada propped his chin.
It was suspicious no matter how he sliced it.
'Gotta contact Lord Demon King.'
He didn't like it, but elves honored oaths—even to enemies—with full effort.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Rumors I'm wielding flames?"
Berge furrowed his brow. The report upon returning to the tower was far from pleasant.
He didn't bother asking how.
He hadn't been spotted by humans.
Only demonkin who should know did—and among them, only one would maliciously spread rumors to screw him over.
"That filthy beast bastard."
"Unlikely it's just Drakson Demon King's idea."
Gordon bit his lip.
The Beast Demon King was Archduke Alkain Blamif's most loyal dog. If he acted, it was on orders or intent from his master.
Gordon recalled just before departing for Arein.
The Archduke had wished for Berge's death. That curse reeked of malice and rejection.
'Damn it, how'd my life come to this...'
Normally, becoming top adjutant after hard work meant smooth sailing—but he was plummeting deeper into hell.
"What will you do? This could be a major threat..."
"Nothing."
"Pardon?"
"You know what's on the first floor, flame resistance aside, right?"
"Ah."
Mana cannons and dwarf-made traps. Some spewed flames, but they were a fraction—rushing in cocky with flame resistance would turn them into Swiss cheese.
"Erjest Mountains are blanketed in blizzards year-round. They'll realize how pointless flame resistance is there."
The weakened prey would be warmly welcomed by monsters.
Those who broke through would be greeted by mana cannons and traps.
And if they surpassed even that.
"They'll meet the princess."
"Even if the hero comes, you'll leave the princess be?"
"A hero who climbed with great hardship meets the princess. What if she backstabs him?"
The thought alone was thrilling.
"...You're not planning to pit the princess against the hero, are you?"
"..."
"Forgive my impertinence, but... have you perhaps gone mad?"
"That's rude."