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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Can I Trust This?
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"Take you as my subordinates?"
Monsters have their own ecosystem.
The law of the jungle.
Though they had branched off from magical beasts and partially escaped the influence of the Demon Realm,
they inherited the traits of their ancestors fully.
They fight and struggle.
They eat and are eaten.
To survive, they must fight and grow stronger.
But ironically, no race had as clear a place in the natural order as magical beasts and monsters.
Orcs can't beat trolls.
Orcs can't beat yetis.
Orcs can't beat ogres.
Orcs can't beat basilisks, cockatrices, gargoyles, or wyverns.
The orc race boasted the highest population and superior breeding rate among the demonkin,
but their limits were clear.
Weak and numerous, even dismissed by humans—that was the orc.
Of course, there were hierarchies among orcs as well.
Puer Orcs were at the pinnacle among them, able to devour ogres if they gathered in even small numbers, and humans couldn't underestimate them. But everything was relative.
In the harsh wilds of the Erjest Mountains, Puer Orcs were just ordinary orcs.
They were at the bottom of the Erjest ecosystem.
They had to do anything to survive.
The spirit herb was that for them. It was hope that could shatter their limits.
"So you dared resist even the Demon King's command and refuse to hand over the spirit herb? And you want me to understand?"
Kuh. Berge let out a hollow laugh. Did these idiots even realize what they were saying?
"We don't ask for understanding. They paid the price for their foolish choice. We just ask that you recognize our tribe is different from them."
"You'd better be. If you were the same, you wouldn't dare flap your jaws in front of me."
The orcs trembled under the faint killing intent.
"Did you know I was coming?"
"We heard recently that the Fierce Wind Tribe was wiped out. That they lusted after the spirit herb and were massacred by the Demon King."
"And?"
"We realized the Demon King wanted the spirit herb. Our tribe found it and thought you would come for it someday. So we moved the tribe and waited."
"Not far from the Tower. But you didn't come to the Tower?"
"We thought you wouldn't want that..."
Pretty sharp. If they'd come to the Tower and caused a fuss, he would've ripped their heads off.
"We humbly beg you to take us as your subordinates."
"Please take us!"
The Puer Orcs slammed their heads down once more.
"What's your name?"
"Krutu, chieftain of the Red Frost Tribe."
"How many orcs in your tribe?"
"153. Half are warriors."
Berge fell into thought.
This wasn't unheard of.
Among intelligent monsters capable of conversation, some volunteered to become a Demon King's subordinates.
Because it was another way to break their species' limits.
Absorbing the Demon King's and the Tower's demonic energy to leap up a level.
More precisely, reclaiming their original form—but he couldn't deny it was tempting.
Were Puer Orcs useful? No. It was because of Krutu.
Why else were they called monsters?
Not just because they spawned from magical beasts.
Because they lacked intelligence and relied on instinct.
Because conversation was hard and they lacked any civilized air.
If all orcs were like Krutu, humans might classify them as heteroraces, not monsters.
They'd be demonkin, not magical beasts.
And that wasn't all. The aura from Krutu was distinctly different from other orcs.
Yes, this one already...
"You ate the spirit herb."
"Yes. Long ago, my father saved one, and I was lucky enough to eat it."
"Good. I'll accept you."
"Thank you!"
"Don't celebrate yet."
Monsters accepted as subordinates absorbed demonic energy through the Tower. Like a steady salary for humans, it steadily consumed his demonic energy.
Monsters aimed for that when becoming a Demon King's subordinates, but with his demonic energy critically low, Berge had no intention of accepting them wholesale.
Thus,
"I'll accept only you as my subordinate."
He drew the big picture.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"...Here."
Entering the Tower's interior, Krutu looked around frantically.
"A Puer Orc this time?"
Gordon spotted Krutu and asked.
"Who's this?"
"My adjutant, Gordon."
"It's an honor to meet you, Adjutant Gordon. I am Krutu, leader of the Red Frost clan."
Gordon blinked at the fluid, natural demeanor.
"An orc..."
The orcs he knew couldn't speak so fluently.
"You'll be my first subordinate since descending to Arelin."
"...You're unconditionally welcome."
The first normal monster. Not a princess or dwarf hero, but a proper monster.
Gordon had no reason to object. Even if he did, it wouldn't matter.
"But there's a dwarf in the Tower...?"
Krutu's gaze turned to Roger, who was so absorbed in trap-making he hadn't noticed the host's arrival.
"Does that matter?"
"No. Thinking about it, you've been traveling with a human woman."
"Listen. Truth be told, I had no intention of taking subordinates for a while—precisely, I didn't."
Demonic energy was limited, and he didn't want to waste it on useless orcs.
"What changed my mind was solely you."
"An honor."
The potential in Krutu.
The potential in the Puer Orcs led by Krutu.
"However, while I'll accept you as a subordinate, I won't make you part of the Tower."
"...Different?"
"Different. I'll take you as a subordinate. You'll control your entire tribe relying on you as chieftain. So run across the snowfields with your tribe."
Orcs were a race that roared their ferocity while racing across wide plains. It was utterly inefficient to confine such beings in a narrow Tower, even without demonic energy.
That was why orcs weren't popular monsters among Demon Kings.
"You've struggled in the Erjest Mountains for ages."
"Leaping from peak to peak, eating and being eaten by countless monsters."
"You know the mountains' terrain and the monsters' territories. Right?"
Krutu nodded at Berge's rapid-fire words.
"Yes."
"Through you, I've seen the future."
Berge's face lit with ecstasy.
It wasn't a lie. In his imagination, Puer Orcs bounded across mountains. They roared at the hero party climbing to kill him.
The sight of mountain monsters they'd desperately dragged in ambushing the heroes battling through blizzards was thrilling.
"Take this."
It was Iasins.
It had lost its original chill and purity,
tainted with thick, murky Demon Realm energy.
"My subordinates must be worthy of my greatness."
"They must stand behind me and support me."
"They must crush my enemies."
"They must lay down their lives for me."
If so,
"Then I shall bestow upon you as well."
"Ahh."
Krutu knelt. He bowed his head and raised both arms. He carefully received the corrupted Iasins.
"An honor...!"
Berge's hand rested on his head.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙
[Will you accept the Puer Orc, Krutu, as your subordinate?] [1000pt of demonic energy will be consumed.]
A hefty price. That meant this one was worth it.
Demonic energy surged. The slave seal etched into Krutu's soul.
The dormant demonic energy within him awakened, drawn by the Tower's power.
Black horns sprouted. Tougher gray skin faintly covered parts of his body.
Krrruuurrr—
His pupils turned black. A small black dragon emblem symbolizing Berge engraved on his chest.
Krutu trembled in ecstasy.
He exhaled ragged breaths.
"My lord, your command."
"Go. Grow your tribe. Devour and conquer other tribes to increase your limbs. Bide your time thus."
There was no rule saying he had to face heroes only inside the Tower.
If they took maximum damage climbing the mountains, dealing with them would be easier.
"As you command."
The magical beast, partially awakened to its Demon Realm form, bowed to the loyalty surging from its soul's depths.
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[182pt]
Totally cleaned out.
Berge couldn't hold back a sigh.
His pre-regression self had been brilliant.
He'd kidnapped princesses from kingdoms, executed many heroes and even more humans.
His infamy spread across the continent, and the negative emotions from humans never ceased.
Tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of points always filled up.
"...But I still died in the end."
Infamy brought points, but created just as many enemies.
Heroes came to the Tower daily. He welcomed them with summoned magical beasts at great cost, but they all became fodder.
"Back then, I thought I'd won stupidly."
Every hero wave consumed magical beasts. Some heroes escaped alive, and Berge mocked them as rats, not bothering to pursue.
Even after repeats, he thought skillless pests were just tenacious.
Blind to the play unfolding.
Pfuhuhu.
Self-deprecating laughter escaped. Anger imprinted on his soul began to rear its head.
'Still, I've done pretty much everything I can for now.'
Deprived humans of byproducts and loot to sow division.
Unleashed Puer Orcs on the mountains.
Magic cannons prepped on the first floor.
And beyond all that, the princess they came to save would turn hostile.
'While they're distracted by the princess...'
He'd smash their unguarded backs himself.
That was the highlight.
Berge hoped the hero would reach the fourth floor. Imagining their dazed faces was delightful.
"...Busy?"
Speak of the devil. Ernyan peeked through the open door crack.
"What is it?"
"I knocked, but no answer..."
"I asked what it is."
"Gordon said you called for me."
"Ah."
Right.
Berge rummaged and pulled out a fruit. One of the two protected by the Red Frost Tribe. Aloje, was it?
Unlike Iasins, it grew as fruit on a tree.
"The Tower taints elixirs with demonic energy. Better eat it quick."
"Thank you! And I..."
"Speak."
"You said you wanted me to block the hero myself?"
"Yes."
"Exactly how do you want me to do it?"
Berge shut his mouth. He couldn't grasp her intent.
"No, nothing specific, but you must have something in mind? Better to be clear."
"Didn't expect you to step up so eagerly."
"I received payment, so I must do my best. That's proper."
Did human notions of propriety apply to demonkin?
Whatever. If she'd work hard, great.
"You can't beat Hillun Kargil anyway. But you can disorient him."
"Aha, honey trap? I can do that."
"..."
"...Not that?"
Ernyan, who'd winked, deflated.
"Any method works, as long as you intuitively show you're hostile to him. He won't imagine the princess he must save trying to fight him."
"And you exploit that opening."
"Yes."
"Then..."
Ernyan pondered briefly, eyes sparkling.
"Wouldn't it shock him more if I introduced myself as your minion?"
"Good idea, but."
Really?
"If I think of something better, I'll tell you."
'Why does she look so happy?'
He couldn't understand. So he didn't try. Crazy women weren't meant to be understood, as the saying went.
"Do as you like."
He waved her off. Ernyan left with a bright face.
'Can I trust her?'
He worried, but the dice were cast. Berge decided to do what he could right now.
He fetched a root of demonic-tainted Iasins from storage. Put it in his mouth and chewed.
Melted demonic energy raced through his body.
His pupils blackened.
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『We've arrived at Hortonwork. We'll start climbing the mountain soon.』
Time passed, and finally, the hero party led by Hillun reached the Demon King's front yard.