The Contract
“Come at me first.”
Kim Sung-tae faced the demon kings with a cocky shout. No matter what they tried, they couldn't land a single scratch on him anyway. He figured it would be far more effective to let them go all out first, then crush them completely—that was the best way to make them submit.
“You're insane. Charging in relying on some petty trick like that.”
The first to step up was the extreme cold one, Crassus. A blue aura surged from his body, rippling and coiling, darkening the sky as massive snowflakes began to fall. This was the freak weather that appeared whenever he got truly furious.
“If I can't kill you, then rip me apart!”
The moisture floating in the air froze in an instant. Riding on those ice crystals, Crassus's magic stretched all the way to the distant horizon. In the blink of an eye, the world turned into a kingdom of ice—only the demon kings and Sung-tae could move freely within it.
“Behold! The world freezing over! Freezing World!”
The drifting clouds, the twinkling stars in the night sky, even the wind trying to escape the frigid magic—all trapped motionless like a painting. It wasn't freezing objects; it was freezing time itself, a unique spell only he could wield.
“Why... are we...”
“Guh... Crass... us...”
Not even fellow demon kings were spared. They might have resisted if prepared, but they never imagined Crassus—their ally—would include them in the effect. Still, demon kings were demon kings. They resisted the chill and confronted him, but he glanced back with a mocking sneer.
“If you idiots butt in, I can't turn that guy into an ice statue. Just sit back and watch.”
“...”
Crassus strode through the frozen world with heavy steps, stopping right in front of Sung-tae. An unnamed wildflower at his feet shattered like glass under his boot. With that sound as the cue, their eyes locked.
Time itself had stopped—why was he blinking?
“How...”
“What, you think I have to stop just 'cause you say so? It's a bit chilly, sure.”
Sung-tae's fist smashed into Crassus's philtrum.
“Guess it'll make a good fridge.”
“Grahk!”
The crisp crack of his skull shattering echoed through the mountains. The snap of his nose breaking harmonized alongside, and the crunch of his teeth shattering added the perfect spice to cap off the triple crescendo. Crassus shot past the mansion like an arrow, beyond the domain of halted time. The only proof he'd been there was the trail of blood staining the ground.
With its master gone, the magic began to fade, and time resumed its flow. The other two demon kings, dazed from resisting the cold, hadn't seen what happened.
“Where'd that Crassus bastard go?”
“Hmph. No more stealing the show!”
This time, it was the brawny Iron who challenged him. He kicked off the ground and soared, slamming his steel sole down at Sung-tae like a meteor.
“Block this if you can! And that's not all!”
“Hm?”
The earth suddenly caved in. The ground turned to sand like an antlion pit, sucking in Sung-tae and Iron. Waves of dirt swallowed them—but unlike its soft appearance, that soil retained the density of thousands of tons of solid earth. A mere illusion could be dispelled with magic, but here, infused with the demon king's power, its weight had multiplied hundreds of times over.
Iron was the only one free to move. He grinned arrogantly at the motionless Sung-tae.
“The basics of battle: fight on terrain that favors you. The earth is my battlefield. You can't even twitch a finger.”
“...”
“Can't even talk, huh? The others could at least speak. Without that weird spell, you're nothing special...”
“Nah, I was just waiting. Don't you name your techniques? That blue-haired guy was calling out his every move.”
“!?”
Startled, Iron compressed the earth's energy to crush Sung-tae. Combined with the ground's weight and his own power, the pressure could turn coal to diamond.
He was a warrior—supposed to stay calm in any situation. But...
“Seriously, what's your technique called?”
“Urk!?”
Iron stumbled back for the first time as Sung-tae slipped out like a ghost from the pressure he'd created himself.
“No name?”
“W-We warriors don't do that crap!”
“Aw, man. Wasted my time waiting. Oh well...”
Sung-tae raised his hand high overhead. The speed was blinding—Iron could barely raise his arms in defense, no chance for a counter.
No attack can shatter my body.
“If you love the ground so much, go deeper.”
Can't shatter...
That was Iron's last thought before blacking out. Sung-tae's strike snapped both his vaunted arms, half-smashed his skull, and buried him deep underground. The backlash sent a pillar of earth shooting skyward. Sung-tae rode it back to the surface.
The last remaining demon king, Demoniac, spotted him and laughed triumphantly.
“What!? Did you let him go? Perfect—I've still got my shot. Uhahaha!”
Fifty meters up in the sky, Demoniac spread his wings and unleashed his full power. A blood-red cloud bloomed, engulfing them both.
“This is my domain. Any living thing with blood flowing through it must obey me.”
His crimson eyes vanished into the scarlet haze.
“I've snagged a hero with this before. Here, you're my puppet. Dance! Then kill yourself! Be creative—your death's up to you. Oh, and don't damage the skin. I wanna make it into a rug.”
“...”
Sung-tae pondered briefly, then snapped his fingers as an idea hit. He flipped up his helmet's visor.
“Creative, huh.”
He gripped the index finger of his gauntlet and crushed it—the shell cracked like a crab's. As it tried to regenerate, the broken edge wriggled upward.
“Before it heals...”
Sung-tae dug into his nose.
“Gotta flick it quick.”
He shot the booger at Demoniac.
What kinda bullshit is—
Demoniac sensed the terrifying aura on it mid-sentence, retracted his blood domain, and poured all his magic into defense.
“You think I'll fall to a booger!?”
“You're already falling pretty hard.”
He tried to block, but couldn't. Demoniac watched the booger pierce his magic and fly right at his face.
“Me... to a booger...”
With that, Demoniac vanished into the sky beyond.
Having felled all three demon kings, Sung-tae plummeted to the ground. Demitrian, who'd watched it all, clapped in welcome.
Garba, protected beside the old butler while observing her lord's battle, shed tears of joy.
“Splendid. As expected—my eyes never deceive me.”
“Weren't you gonna fight too?”
“No, sir. I'm a butler. We don't fight. A butler's duty is to guard the house, is it not?”
Still, the demon kings had obeyed him so readily—he had to be strong. And yeah, the laid-back observer in the back was always the final boss. No need to force him if he didn't want to fight. Sung-tae, no battle maniac himself, nodded agreeably.
“Besides, the demon kings haven't truly fallen yet.”
[HOW DARE YOU!]
[A warrior never accepts defeat!]
Crassus returned from the forest, freezing the world anew. Demoniac came back, painting the sky blood-red at dawn. Iron burst from the shaking earth.
Their human forms began mutating into something else.
“Human shapes are just for convenience. Have you forgotten they're all demon kings?”
“Oh. Right.”
Ignis had ultimately transformed into a fire demon king too. These guys must have hidden forms as well. Realizing that, Sung-tae readied for round two. The demon kings prepared to fight to the death, reverting to their true selves.
Just as the second round was about to begin, the old butler clapped, drawing all eyes.
“The battle ends here.”
White gloves stark against his black attire clapped crisply, commanding attention.
“Kim Sung-tae, utterly unscathed. Demon kings, three on one, zero results. Victory is decided.”
[Ended? We haven't even used our true power...]
“I say it's over.”
Through his monocle, Demitrian's demonic eyes pierced Demoniac. The one bloating up to transform deflated like a punctured balloon, reverting to human form. The others followed suit.
Sung-tae couldn't fathom why fellow demon kings feared this butler.
Is he a great demon king or something?
“And how unsightly. Losing after acting all smug, then trying to pull out your true power—three of you, no less. I'd drown myself in shame.”
“We would've won if we'd gone all out from the start!”
“It's humiliating as a warrior... but I admit I underestimated him. Give us another shot!”
The reverted demon kings begged Demitrian. All but one.
[I haven't lost!]
Crassus, fully transformed, his body now transparent ice, like glass with trees visible through it. Still midway, he grew larger.
“Crassus.”
[I'll kill you!]
“Are my words not reaching you?”
Demitrian's voice dropped low, deep and heavy like darkness at the abyss's edge.
[Guh...]
Finally coming to his senses, Crassus reverted. Confirming it, Demitrian removed his right glove. A strange tattoo on his hand glowed purple, and the demon kings panicked, pleading.
“Then let us begin.”
“D-Demitrian?”
“A contract!?”
“We never agreed to anything!”
Purple tendrils shot from the tattoo, flying at the three. Ignoring their pleas, the demon kings fled to sky, earth, and forest—but the tendrils reeled them back like fish.
“Sometimes actions speak louder than words. Kim Sung-tae said he'd subdue you by force. You didn't refuse—you followed and fought. That was your acceptance of the contract.”
“Noooo!!!”
“You bastard!!!”
“A warrior never submits!!!”
The demon kings screamed unbecomingly. Sung-tae watched calmly as a tendril approached him—but unlike theirs, it waited obediently.
“The demon kings are bound. Now it depends on you, Kim Sung-tae.”
“On me?”
“You set the terms, but I haven't heard your acceptance. Grab the tendril and declare them your subordinates, and they'll be yours as proposed.”
“Ho.”
A fascinating power. Magic? Sung-tae stared at Demitrian. More appealing than the others' flashy tricks. Could I make this butler mine too?
Thinking fast, he said, “But my terms included you as a subordinate.”
“Regrettably, I don't qualify.”
“Why?”
“I'm not a demon king.”
Not a demon king? Then...
“A great demon king?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Demitrian adjusted his monocle. His half-lidded eyes seemed to ponder deeply.
“Well... I hardly know myself anymore.”
“Huh?”
“I've been called so many names. God, angel, hero, even the old man next door.”
“What the hell.”
“Live too long, and you forget who you are. One thing's certain...”
His red eyes turned the same murky purple as his magic.
“The name I've heard most is 'demon.' Feels the most nostalgic, oddly.”
“Demon...”
Wasn't that the imaginary tempter of bad deals? Sung-tae eyed the writhing, snake-like tendril, debating.
Even if he's a demon, he's from this world...
“You think your power lets you break any contract anytime?”
“Gah!? You read minds too?”
“No. Long life hones intuition—I can read faces. No need to worry. No harm will come to you. Even if I had ill intent...”
The purple tendril writhed like a dancer.
“Your strength could shatter the contract anytime.”
“Hmm. Alright then...”
Sung-tae grasped it. He shouted at the terrified demon kings bound by it.
“Become my subordinates!”
“Grahhh!”
The purple tendrils burrowed into the three demon kings' chests. The one in Sung-tae's hand seeped into his palm, etching a tattoo like Demitrian's.
He instinctively knew: linked to them through it. Their status, names—all clear. Like holding a dog's leash; they couldn't resist.
“Summon them anytime you wish.”
“Let's see... Crassus.”
“Grahhh!”
Crassus, screaming nearby, appeared before him. Sung-tae called the others next.
“Demoniac. Iron.”
“Guh!”
“Urk!”
This is fun. Sung-tae enjoyed it briefly, then wondered.
“Demitrian, why're you helping me so much?”
“I told you: I never tire of observing humans. Demon kings are too foolish—they can't observe properly.”
“I see.”
“Yes. On a grand scale, they're predictable: build nations, prosper, fall, endless war. But dig deeper, and no two lives are the same.”
Demitrian thought of the humans he observed closely now. Fascinating ones—he wanted to return soon.
“They shift moment to moment with circumstances, moods, relationships. Even siblings raised together: one becomes a savior, the other a infamous killer. Infinite variables reshaping them—that's humanity. How could it ever bore?”
Sung-tae nodded unconsciously. A angelic child turns demonic adult—that's human. Unpredictable, recreated by countless variables, as Demitrian said.
“Demon kings' egos blind them. A pity.”
“So... this wasn't a group to wipe out humans?”
“The opposite. Only belligerent demon kings gather here. I've been suppressing them.”
How strong is this demon? Stronger than heroes?
“Then I must go. Meeting's over.”
“Uh, yeah...”
Butler to such power. Humans and demons were unpredictable. Purple light enveloped Demitrian. As he turned to dust from the feet up, a sudden thought made Sung-tae call out.
“Wait!”
“Yes?”
“Um...”
He glanced at Garba, then whispered close. No way he'd let a subordinate hear this kinda request.
“Female demon kings...”
“I'll ensure you attend the next one. I'll bring them.”
“Thanks!”
Sung-tae stepped back, exhaling happily. As the purple glow faded, so did Demitrian.
“Alright. Wait for the next invite.”
His imagination conjured female demon kings—nothing special, same as when he first arrived.
“My lord, what of these demon kings?”
“Demon tails. Wings... Huh? Oh, them. Leave 'em be. I can summon whenever.”
“A mere human...”
“Warrior's shame...”
“Summoned pet on a whim...”
Sung-tae hurried back to the castle. No clue when the next meeting was—he'd endure at the castle, but it wouldn't feel like suffering.
“Let's head back.”
“Yes, my lord!”
“Hungry...”
Then—a child's voice. Sung-tae wasn't heartless enough to ignore it. He searched, but saw only dejected demon kings.
“So hungry...”
Over here?
He followed the voice persistently. It came from right in front of the mansion door.
“Who's there? Where are you?”
No one visible, but the voice was clear. Invisible? Pacing the door, calling out, he traced it.
“Can... you hear me?”
“Yeah, I hear you.”
A translucent little kid crouched on the mansion steps. Maybe under ten, filthy rag as a dress. Androgynous, childlike neutrality. Her bright golden hair, like ripe grain, gave her away—otherwise invisible.
“Kid, you a demon king too?”
“What's a demon king?”
Not one? Or lying? No kid should be here. But Sung-tae dropped his suspicion.
Gurgle.
“Ugh... so hungry...”
A demon king wouldn't starve like that.