To the Primal Woods (3)
The phrase "primal forest" suited this place better than anywhere else in the world. The woods brimmed with vibrant greenery, existing in a time utterly unlike the harsh reality where pollutants and toxins spread death across the land. Life and vitality pulsed through every leaf and branch, as though the forest had transcended all worldly troubles and remained free. Even plants and animals long extinct since the world's fall a millennium ago could be found here with surprising frequency, thriving in peaceful harmony. This lush, beautiful treasury of life was known as the Primal Woods.
While Caboni Forest had also been vast and densely wooded, the interior of the Primal Woods displayed an even more luxuriant scene. The fresh scent of the forest rode on clear, cool breezes that washed over Neromeltia and her companions, finally revealing how the nameless wasteland they had crossed could still retain any spark of life. Flanked on both sides by such immense pristine woodlands, the wasteland between them naturally maintained a cleaner environment. Caboni Forest and the Primal Woods filtered out corruption and supplied fresh air, allowing relatively clean soil and a few hardy plants to take root.
Neromeltia recalled the wasteland they had passed through and considered how the relatively low pollution levels there might be put to good use. Regions with lower contamination would be far easier to convert into purifying forests or farmland for securing food supplies—an encouraging piece of information.
“Um… Secretary?”
“Ah? Yes, what is it?”
As Lusteria walked ahead, admiring the pristine forest around them, Nella quietly approached from behind. Speaking in a hushed voice meant only for Lusteria’s ears, she glanced furtively at Neromeltia ahead and Beatrice trailing far behind.
“…Lady Beatrice seems quite unwell. Is it really all right to leave her like this?”
“Ah……”
Ever since morning at Stony Fortress, Nella had been concerned about Beatrice’s precarious state. Watching the symptoms worsen over time—Beatrice staggering, unable to keep her balance, and stopping more frequently—Nella could no longer stay silent. She wondered if perhaps no one else had noticed.
Though Nella knew nothing of the incident’s true nature, she could tell from observation alone that Neromeltia was deliberately ignoring the situation. That was why she whispered to Lusteria in a voice the Demon Lord would not overhear.
“Hmm……”
Lusteria glanced briefly at Beatrice. The maid was pressing a hand firmly against her lower abdomen, thighs, and the intimate place between, visibly enduring something. Through the daring slit of her wrap-around skirt, long, smooth legs were clearly visible. The apron she wore was purely decorative, covering only a narrow strip from below her chest to her lower abdomen, making it easy to glimpse her lower body.
Normally Beatrice would have kept her posture modest, preventing the skirt from parting and minimizing exposure. But in her current state—completely without composure and even groaning in discomfort—maintaining proper decorum was impossible. Her white stockings, made of thin thirty-denier fabric, already revealed her skin quite clearly. Now thoroughly soaked, they were as transparent as bare legs, and the liquid they held reflected light so vividly that the sight was even more lewd and embarrassing than if she had worn nothing at all.
The fluid had even drenched her black shoes, turning their originally matte surface into something that gleamed with reflected light. The path Beatrice had staggered along showed patches of damp earth, clear evidence that what everyone was seeing was no illusion.
“I appreciate your kind and pure heart for worrying about someone else so readily, Lady Nella. However, this is not something you need to concern yourself with.”
“Ah…”
“You noticed and spoke to me in secret because of that, but Her Majesty must have her reasons for deliberately leaving things as they are. She would prefer you remain unaware of the situation, so I cannot overstep by explaining it here.”
Deep within Lusteria’s alluring, amethyst eyes, a distinct hexagram glowed faintly, radiating a hypnotic aura. It was a small yet boundless world—one could look into it but never fully comprehend it. Staring into that deep, dark abyss felt as though one might fall forever, the soul caressed by an insatiable hunger. It was a living dream. Through that profound inner cosmos that stirred the viewer’s very being, Nella quietly resigned herself to the situation.
Seeming to read the change in Nella’s heart, Lusteria smiled brightly, clapped her hands, and lightened the mood.
“I’m relieved you only noticed Lady Beatrice’s condition seemed off and don’t know the details of her symptoms. It’s nothing Her Majesty needs to worry about!”
“…Symptoms… you say?”
“Come now, Her Majesty’s side is empty. Go keep her company so she won’t feel lonely. Leaving her side so carelessly would be disrespectful, wouldn’t it?”
“Aah… W-wait…!”
With a cheerful laugh, Lusteria gave Nella a vigorous push on the back. Caught off guard, Nella was propelled forward until she stood beside Neromeltia, looking thoroughly flustered. To an outside observer it might have seemed she was being forced, yet it made no sense for the two-hundred-mentol-tall, powerfully built Nella to be physically pushed by the comparatively petite Lusteria.
Lusteria possessed no transcendent physical strength like Neromeltia or the First Blood Cardistella. She was merely a slender woman whose power lay in high magical ability and demonic authority. The fact that Nella had not been overpowered by force was therefore all the more obvious.
“Ugh… Your Majesty……”
“What is it, Nella?”
Blushing furiously, Nella fidgeted with her hands clasped together, her expression filled with embarrassment. Neromeltia greeted her with an affectionate smile and a gentle, lilting voice. She welcomed Nella warmly, even shortening her name into an endearing nickname.
“Well… um… this place is unfamiliar, so… it might be dangerous… I’ll take the lead!”
Secretly pleased to be at Neromeltia’s side, Nella had been unable to properly resist Lusteria’s push and stepped forward, but without any clear purpose she only managed to stammer. Finally forcing out an excuse, she cried out bravely, her face so red that anyone could see how mortified she was.
Neromeltia found the sight adorable and smiled more deeply, tilting her head as though she had no idea what Nella was feeling, then continued playfully.
“I’m the strongest here, so I was planning to protect you instead. What a shame.”
“Ugh…”
“I can’t refuse such a kind, considerate heart, can I?”
Realizing how flimsy her own excuse sounded, Nella lowered her head and pressed her lips tightly shut. Had she possessed even a shred of eloquence she might have pressed on and displayed the loyalty of a devoted subordinate, but her pure nature left her with no such flexibility—she could only shrink back in embarrassment. Moments ago she had not spared a single thought for protecting the Demon Lord, yet she lacked the cunning to stubbornly cling to the excuse she had blurted out after being pushed forward.
“Then we can walk together. Side by side. Right?”
“Y-Your Majesty…!!”
In an instant Neromeltia slipped an arm around Nella’s waist and began walking. Though Neromeltia herself stood one hundred eighty mentols tall, the Nella she embraced was a full head taller. No matter how much Neromeltia tried to lead, the sight looked strangely mismatched. Noticing this, Neromeltia simply rested her head against Nella’s chest and naturally took Nella’s wandering hand, placing it on her own shoulder.
“Nella’s hand is so warm. Hehehe.”
“Y-Your Majes—! Ugh…!”
Neromeltia’s mischievous yet deeply affectionate behavior—rubbing her head against Nella’s chest like a spoiled child—left Nella unable to form even a short sentence, her words catching in her throat. Nella was only eighty-five years old, still young for an orc whose average lifespan reached five hundred. Even without comparing her to other orcs, having a Demon Lord who had lived for thousands of years call her “big sister” was clearly nothing more than a joke. Yet that single teasing remark sent Nella’s heart into turmoil, her mind turning white.
She had once been an ordinary reader who felt her pulse quicken while following the male leads in countless romance novels, who had thrilled at their romantic whispers. Now the same heart raced wildly at every word and gesture from another woman—Neromeltia—and she could not understand where this unfamiliar feeling came from. What troubled her most was that the uncontrollable emotion spreading like wildfire was not unpleasant at all. On the contrary, it brought a strange joy and comforting euphoria.
Unable to bring herself to remove the hand the Demon Lord had placed on her shoulder, Nella grew increasingly restless. Then she gradually relaxed as she focused on the captivating sensation beneath her palm. Neromeltia’s skin was incomparably soft; even the lightest touch sent a pleasant shiver through her that nearly stole her breath. The faint warmth was as gentle as morning sunlight after dawn. Nella was startled to realize her hand had begun unconsciously stroking Neromeltia’s shoulder. Thinking it unforgivable for a subordinate to touch her lord so freely, she tried to pull away—only for Neromeltia to cover her hand with her own, trapping it in place.
“What a waste.”
“…Your Majesty?”
“You’re so cute and beautiful, yet you don’t seem to realize it.”
Nella was once again thrown into turmoil by Neromeltia’s casually spoken words. In every novel she had read, orcs were portrayed as hideous monsters. Even stories somewhat favorable to orcs never made them protagonists; they appeared only as insignificant background characters. The heroes were always humans, demonkin, or elves—occasionally mermaids, fairies, angels, or demons. Orcs were nothing but grotesque monsters or ridiculous clowns.
Then what was she to make of a Demon Lord who kept calling her beautiful? She had lived her life believing the novels that labeled orcs ugly, carrying that pain for so long. Was the Demon Lord simply too kind? Or was the world outside those stories simply different?
“Oh my! It’s the Demon Lord?”
A sudden, sultry female voice snapped Nella out of her tangled thoughts. She looked ahead. The dense foliage offered no visible figure—only the alluring voice reached them. The group halted and turned toward the sound. Neromeltia’s brow furrowed slightly, her complicated feelings plain on her face.
“As expected, it was you……”