CHAPTER 10

The Hero, the Meeting, and… (1)

The legionnaires, watching with grim eyes as the intruder was dragged away unconscious, were all chanting like mad in their heads: "I'm dead today. I'm so dead."

When they were taking a short break after lunch, and some guy burst in yelling at everyone to gather now, they'd honestly thought it was a joke.

I mean, come on—the Commander was here? The Commander only dropped by once in a blue moon, if that.

But the guy's face, pale as a blueberry, wasn't lying. The moment they realized it was true, they'd freaked out and sprinted to the training hall like their lives depended on it.

And there, they came face-to-face with their Commander.

"I was curious."

That was the cryptic answer to the brave question someone managed to ask about why he'd come.

Curious? Curious about what?

The question didn't linger for long.

Like he was just out for a stroll, Lord Daemon started walking slowly across the grounds.

Then in an instant—so fast it was hard to believe—he ducked under a sword slashing for his neck and spun, driving his elbow square into the attacker's solar plexus. Every move was sharp, fluid, and utterly effortless.

That's when they all understood what he meant by "curious."

"I was curious."

—Was he really unaware?

He'd let an intruder get all the way into the training hall. Did he seriously not know?

And yet, he'd been this relaxed the whole time?

Without even glancing at his frozen soldiers, Lord Daemon calmly raised his wooden sword, as if to finish knocking his opponent out.

Then, a crisp crack echoed through the hall.

Smack!

After prying the self-flagellating legionnaires off me—each of them bowing their heads and apologizing like their lives depended on it—I finally escaped back to my room.

All my duties were done.

I'd walked the gardens, inspected the legion, and even sat through that meal Ben insisted on in the mess hall. I was free to hole up for a good while.

Basking in the rare peace and quiet, I lay sprawled on my bed, feeling blissfully happy, when a knock came at the door.

"Lord Daemon, it's Ed."

Ed? That was my adjutant, wasn't it? He'd gone all the way to the human realm, saying he'd find me a new kind of puzzle or cube to keep me from dying of boredom. Finally back, huh?

Perking up, I sat up straight, excited.

"Come in."

It had been a while, but Ed's face was… oddly stiff.

Did something bad happen out there? No, that couldn't be it. The Demon King himself had picked Ed for the role of 0th Legion Commander's adjutant—someone that skilled wouldn't have any trouble handling things. He could squash most enemies like bugs.

"I brought a new cube. A mirror cube—it's a bit of a tricky one."

"Oh?"

"And…"

He started sweating nervously, his eyes darting sideways.

The door was open, but he was still standing out in the hallway, so I couldn't tell what he was looking at.

Finally, Ed swallowed hard and spoke, slowly.

"…The Demon King is here to see you."

"Oh."

…Oh?

"If you're not too busy, could we have a moment?"

Thud. Heavy footsteps approached, and a familiar figure stepped into my room.

Those sharp eyes swept the room, settling on me as I sat frozen on the bed. Then, his lips curved into a smooth half-moon smile.

After a moment of stunned silence, I snapped to my senses, tossing aside the pillow I'd been hugging and leaping to my feet.

Why is the Demon King here?! I haven't… I didn't…

…Well. There was one thing that nagged at me.

"…Is this about that intruder?"

"Exactly."

As if he never failed to meet expectations, the Demon King gave a satisfied smile and jerked his chin toward the door.

"There's something I want to discuss about that. If you don't mind, let's go take a look at the prisoner."

That meant… he wanted me to go down to the dungeon with him, right?

What was going on? Did that intruder say something weird about me or something? Being human, his words would've sounded at least a bit credible.

I didn't know what it was, but I wasn't about to die some stupid, pointless death like this. I shot a pleading glance at Ed, silently begging for help.

And I saw it—clear as day—Ed looking away, avoiding my eyes.

That bastard.

The dungeon was pitch black, not a speck of light. Damp, too.

So this was it. I'd been dragged here after all.

"Open it."

At the Demon King's command, the sturdy-looking iron gate swung open instantly.

The soldier who opened the door gave a deep bow and, at a quiet word to step back, disappeared without a sound.

The Demon King, watching the man's retreating figure, turned his gaze to the "human" inside the cell.

The intruder, now completely bloodied, glared fiercely up at him, but the Demon King didn't flinch. He stepped in boldly and crouched down right in front of him.

"Deon."

He used my real name, since we were alone.

At the same time, the intruder's eyes shifted—to me.

If looks could kill, his would've devoured me on the spot. Honestly, the glare he gave me seemed even more murderous than the one he'd shot at the Demon King.

Not that it mattered. The Demon King casually grabbed the intruder by the hair, yanking his head up roughly, then turned his head to look at me.

"Take a good look at him. Doesn't he seem… familiar somehow?"

Besides the fact that he's human? Uh… no clue.

I stayed silent, and the Demon King, as if offering a hint, began explaining slowly.

"Strength enough to take down most demons single-handedly, even as a human. A power that seems to grow stronger, especially against me, the Demon King."

Looking at the intruder's wrecked condition, it was obvious he'd been toyed with a bit.

But that wasn't the issue now. As I listened to the Demon King's words, I felt my expression harden involuntarily.

"…No way…"

"Exactly."

He let go of the man's hair with a flick, then shook off the blood from his hand, grinning.

"A hero's scrap. The Empire calls them fragments of the Hero and sings their praises—"

"…A Hero."

"Pathetic, isn't it?"

When a Hero dies, they have two choices.

Let's talk about just one for now: upon death, the Hero's power—destined to shatter and vanish—can be scattered across the continent, in hopes of creating new people strong enough, however faintly, to stand against the Demon King.

It would be ideal if that power could be passed whole to a single person, but during life it's non-transferable, and the moment of death starts breaking it down. In the end, all the Hero can do is sacrifice their own life to spread those fragments, making new warriors who bear a sliver of that strength.

The Empire calls these fragment-bearers "Heroes" and tried hard to gather them.

Of course, they didn't hand out the title to just anyone. Unofficially, anyone with a fragment was called a Hero, but officially, only those with outstanding ability and proven accomplishments earned the title, along with the prestige that came with it.

The human in front of me, bloodied and broken, was unfortunately the former.

An unrecognized Hero fragment—never made it to official status.

Still, even if he wasn't called a Hero, he'd been considered a "Hero candidate." Not something you'd usually toss aside lightly.

And that guy had infiltrated the Demon King's castle.

Why?

Those bloodshot eyes gleamed with a chilling light.

What flashed there for a moment wasn't just anger—it was confusion. Doubt.

It wasn't simple curiosity like, Why did he come? How did he get here?

No. It was deeper—a question born from something that didn't make sense.

There was no reason for a Hero candidate to be here. He hadn't brought a message. He didn't seem to have any goal beyond fighting the Demon King and the demons. And the clincher—he had attacked me.

Why attack me? Was there a reason?

—What the hell was going through his mind?

"…Anyway, there's going to be a Commanders' meeting this afternoon. I'll come get you myself, so see you then."

"…"

With no response, the Demon King stood, brushing off his hands, and glanced back at me.

I didn't even blink.

Clearly, I was deep in thought. My face, always a bit stiff, had gone completely rigid.

Looks like… you're not planning to come up with me just yet.

Shaking his head inwardly, Deon casually tried to confirm his suspicion.

"Planning to stay a bit longer?"

"Yes."

"All right then, I'll wait outside."

The Demon King stepped out of the cell and strolled off at a leisurely pace.

…The decision was made.

Deon listened to the receding footsteps, gauging the distance, then slowly lowered his gaze to the intruder.

His dry, unreadable eyes stared down at him. Those blood-red eyes, glinting as though soaked in blood, bore into the man.

But the intruder didn't look away. Instead, he lifted his chin stiffly and glared right back at Deon.

His eyes were full of unmistakable hatred and fury, steeped in the bitterness of betrayal.

Finally, his crusted, bloodied lips parted slowly.

"Deon Hart."

It had been a long time since Deon heard his full name spoken aloud.

A flicker of something passed through Deon's eyes.

The intruder gritted his teeth, spitting out his words, simmering with rage, hatred, and a cold, bitter grudge.

"You damn traitor."

"…"

Ah.

That answered it.

The tension drained from Deon's narrowed eyes, which had been sharp with suspicion. His voice, too, loosened, no longer tense as he spoke with a casual tone.

"So… you're just a discarded pawn."

"What?"

This guy wasn't even worth paying attention to. What a waste of time.

Deon didn't bother to hide the contempt in his eyes as he asked, not expecting much of an answer.

"What crime did you commit?"

"What the hell are you talking about? Discarded pawn? Crime?!"

"I'm asking what you did to fall out of the Emperor's favor."

"Bullshit! His Majesty entrusted me with an important mission! If I'd fallen out of favor, he wouldn't have given me a mission in the first place!"

But even as he said it, there was a flicker of doubt—his eyes began to tremble ever so slightly.

Deon, sharp-eyed even in the dim, flickering candlelight, caught that tiny tremor. Without a word, he stepped through the cell gate.

He knelt down in front of the intruder, just like the Demon King had done earlier—but unlike the Demon King, he did nothing else.

He just looked at him quietly.

And then—he spoke.

"No, the fact that you called me a 'traitor' is the proof. You've fallen out of the Emperor's favor… and now you've been abandoned."

"That can't be…"

Deon's voice was calm and deliberate, like a teacher pointing out the obvious. Satisfied there was no reason to waste any more time, he stood up.

The conclusion was clear.

There was no need to keep this man alive. No, it was better—safer—to make sure he died.

But Deon knew that wasn't his decision to make. Looking down at the intruder, he let a cold smile creep across his lips.

Then, raising his voice just enough to be heard by anyone listening in, he let it ring out through the dungeon.

"His Majesty knows everything."

"!"

Deon caught the sight of the man's eyes widening—and that was enough. Without another glance, he turned on his heel.

Behind him, the man's furious screams echoed through the dungeon.

"You damn Emperor bastard!!"

Such shallow loyalty.

Smirking to himself, Deon made his way toward the dungeon entrance—only to stop when he spotted the Demon King waiting for him.

The Demon King, face now expressionless as if he'd never smiled at all, eyed him closely before speaking slowly.

"I heard."

Then, letting out a dry chuckle, he added,

"Cold-blooded. Saying that means I have to kill him now. And here I was thinking he might still be useful somehow… You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"…"

"Fine, whatever. Like I said inside, though I don't think you were really listening—I'll say it again. There's a Commanders' meeting this afternoon. I'll come pick you up myself, so wait in your room."