The Dragonkin and the Demons (1)
"I'm so sorry to have kept you guests waiting. I made the mistake of underestimating my opponent."
Glisha Lentissimo, the Tower Master who had returned after single-handedly striking down three of Five's clones, bowed her head first of all.
She had not only abandoned her post while guests were present — she had allowed them to be ambushed on top of it. Granted, the scheme that had lured her away had been Legion Commander Five's doing, but the real problem was that she'd fallen for it.
"On this matter, I shall pay proper compensation when you depart the tower. Until then, tend to your wounds and rest well. I know it rings hollow to say this after you've already been attacked once, but the tower shall become an impregnable fortress for you."
"Ah, yes... thank you."
The tone left something to be desired, but Esmeralda nodded along obediently all the same.
Right now, all she wanted was to rest. Even with the Glacies Magic Tower's support, she had faced two of Legion Commander Five's clones practically on her own. Even now, the drifting wind stung her burned skin like needles. She wanted to go collapse into a bed that very instant — the only reason she was still standing here was worry for her companions.
"Still, I'll wait until my friends return before I go. I want to see them come back safe with my own eyes."
"Milia has made herself a truly fine friend. Yes, she has."
"......"
Out of nowhere, the stern old woman had transformed into a doting grandmother. Esmeralda felt a wave of cognitive dissonance coming on, caught somewhere between the Glisha who had just been delivering a haughty apology-that-wasn't and this beaming creature before her.
Well, she clearly does treasure Milia... Is that why the girl turned out so twisted — the way she was raised?
"If that's all you were worried about, then fret no longer. There they come now. Everyone is safe and sound."
"Ah!"
At the distant figure approaching with the sun at its back, Esmeralda broke into a wide smile.
"Remarkable magic. Genuinely original."
"......"
And there she froze.
The figure she'd taken for a person was a single strand of tentacle; the actual human silhouette hung a little further behind it. Perched atop tentacles that sprouted like sea anemones and writhed like octopus arms — and as if that weren't enough, Jim and Irina were tangled up in those very tentacles too.
"Our Milia is quite skilled at magic as well, you see."
"Binding elemental magic within the medium of liquid, then imparting viscosity to it? Extraordinary. No wonder the Tower Masters named her a joint successor."
"What would it be like, I wonder, to be caught up in that...?"
Esmeralda clamped her mouth shut. She had absolutely no desire to get entangled in any of it.
Because really, weren't mages all nothing but lunatics?
"Impressive, isn't it?"
"Huh?! Me? Are you... asking me?"
"Of course. Our Milia may be timid, but her ability is superb. That artistry, that originality. I'm sure you noticed it too?"
"......"
Notice what?
Notice WHAT, exactly?
Esmeralda stood there mute, like someone who'd just swallowed a mouthful of honey.
Meanwhile, the gazes of the tower's mages all converged on her. Eyes begging her to hurry up and share her impressions. Yes — they wanted to experience vicarious satisfaction from watching the Hero of the famously renowned Hero Party praise a member of their own tower. That was what this was.
"...I do think it's impressive."
"Which part?"
"Um... the way it squirms?"
"You see it clearly! Yes — the brilliance of that spell lies precisely in how freely it can move. Bending the trajectory of a spell mid-flight is ordinarily terribly difficult, you understand. But if you fix the form like that and grant it viscosity and elasticity, it flies slower than a projectile, yet far more freely—"
The mages' words spilled out in an ever-rising flood. Every single one laced with praise, and Esmeralda found herself backing away, step by halting step.
Did I just... back away? Me — the one who never once turned her back on a Legion Commander?
Esmeralda recognized, with terrible clarity, that she had felt a fear she could not resist.
She had never once retreated when facing down a Legion Commander. But this tentacle, creeping closer by the second — she simply could not accept it. Physiologically, it was a bridge too far.
And so, while Esmeralda stood there trembling like a leaf, Milia — riding atop her tentacles — drew near.
"Esmeralda, are you all right?"
"Ah, yes...! Are you okay? A Legion Commander went after you too, right?"
"Mm. Me and Irina took ours down."
"And Jim?"
"Jim is Jim."
"I see......"
Jim did have a track record of pulling something the instant she took her eyes off him. She'd half suspected he'd unleashed some hidden power again this time, just like before — but apparently not.
Esmeralda glared at Jim, trussed up in the tentacles in an utterly absurd posture.
[Black Magic Lv. 35]
Well, at least he got stronger.
His Black Magic had gone up a level. Though his Comprehensive Estimate had always run high for his actual skill, so it stayed much the same.
She was just thinking, so the boy does grow after all, when —
Splat.
Milia's tentacle landed softly against Esmeralda's cheek.
"KYAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!"
Esmeralda fled across the ground on all fours, so thoroughly terrified that she forgot she was even the Hero. The slick, slimy sensation clung to her cheek like a curse.
"Hik...! Huhik...!"
Between the streaming tears and the hiccups, the so-called Hero was looking rather questionable as a Hero.
"Why...? Wh-why would you...?"
Esmeralda looked up at Milia, her face drained white as if she'd been betrayed to her very core.
The despair in her expression rivaled what Legion Commander Five — that is, the former Garnet — had felt when her own comrades stabbed her in the back and left her dying.
And watching that despair-written face, Milia said, perfectly expressionless as ever:
"Cold is best for burns."
"Oh. That's all it was. Please don't. I might actually kill you next time."
"Okay......"
Esmeralda nodded in understanding while still loosing the threat through gritted teeth.
The chill radiating off her was so genuine that even her usual theatrics couldn't be found anywhere in it. So genuine, in fact, that even Milia felt a flicker of fear at the sight.
Only when Esmeralda recognized that familiar, fidgeting, timid demeanor did her shoulders finally loosen.
This cowering, awkward creature was the Milia she knew, after all.
"Oh — you can leave Irina as she is a bit longer. Goodness, her burns are bad."
"Okay, got it. Should I do the same for Jim?"
"Of course. That heart of yours, treasuring your comrades so — it's lovely."
"Well, as for Esmeralda......"
"What did I just say?"
"R-right...... understood."
For the first time in a long while, Esmeralda felt like something had actually gone right.
She had triumphantly defeated the enemy, and her companions had all returned in one piece.
Rolling it over in her mind, that bitch Irina had gotten a well-deserved lesson, and Jim, for once, had been nothing more than an ordinary idiot.
Yes — this horrific daily grind was precisely what she was used to.
"All that's left is Tina's group. If I don't go fetch her myself, she'll sulk, won't she."
Thinking of the friend (a real one) she hadn't seen in ages, Esmeralda managed a genuinely pleasant smile for the first time in what felt like forever.
The Demon King's Castle.
The Legion Commanders' council of the Demon King's Army.
Lilith was in attendance, as unfailingly she was, at that monthly affair. Lieutenant Colonel Extra's presence was a touch suspicious, admittedly, but not suspicious enough to warrant skipping the meeting over — and besides, investigation was the job of her informants, not hers.
"Hmm, we seem to be a few short?"
Demon King Belphegor — sloth-riddled as she always was, yet still attend these councils with a certain sense of duty — cast her eye over the assembled commanders.
"From the left: First Commander of the 1st Legion, First; Second Commander of the 2nd Legion, Second; beside them Third and Fourth... Five is absent. Eleven was missing last time as well, so shall we assume the fellow's dead too? Ah — that's right, he said he was taking leave. Tch."
The 1st Legion Commander, First.
The 2nd Legion Commander, Second.
The 3rd Legion Commander, Third.
The 4th Legion Commander, Fourth.
These four were, even among the Demon King's Army, the caliber of powerhouses who might realistically set their sights on the next throne. That was why, unlike the other commanders who bore mere numbers for names, their ranks had been assigned in sequence as a mark of their qualification to challenge the Demon King herself.
Truthfully, Belphegor couldn't have cared less whether the 5th or 6th Commander came at her — the trouble was that, regrettably, her vocabulary only extended as far as "Fourth." And so she'd let the matter blur conveniently there.
Now, what was it... I almost have it. Fives? No wait, Fipths? Damn it all, I don't know. Anyway, where'd that woman Five run off to?
She was, at her core, so slothful she couldn't even recall her own words moments after speaking them.
She had been lazy from birth, but since ascending to the throne of Demon King, her senses had dulled to the point of outright ennui.
"Lilith."
"Yes. Legion Commander Five lost contact after heading for Glacies Magic Tower. She is likely dead, Your Majesty."
"Oh, is that so? Dead, then."
One-twelfth of the Demon King's Army — an entire Legion Commander — had vanished, and the reaction was one of utter indifference.
"Then we shall consider Five dead... Lieutenant General Lilith, see to the 5th Legion. Sort something out, one way or another."
"As you command, Your Majesty."
"One moment, if you please, Your Majesty!"
"Hmm?"
The very instant Belphegor was about to wave the matter aside out of sheer laziness, the 12th Legion Commander, Twelve, thrust his hand up and shouted — as though it were now or never.
"Th-that woman — no, ever since Lieutenant General Lilith became involved, we have already lost two Legion Commanders! Unless we get to the bottom of this—!"
"Unless what."
"...Your Majesty?"
"Whoever got got, it's their own fault. Since when did the Demon King's Army ever bother with that sort of bookkeeping?"
"Er... you decreed as much yourself when you ascended the throne, Your Majesty......"
"I did? Did I now?"
Belphegor, the air around her darkening to something dangerous, turned her head at Twelve's timid objection and looked to Lilith.
"That is correct."
Lilith nodded, confirming Twelve's words.
It was a smear attempt against her, granted — but military discipline was military discipline. The dragonkin's recent movements were already gnawing at her nerves as it was.
Their forces were too few even when united; splitting apart now would profit them nothing.
"Mm. Then from today, let's pretend that never happened. If we go nitpicking every time, it's too much bother and I can't get my own work done."
"Understood."
"But, Your Majesty—!"
"But?"
Belphegor fixed Twelve with a glare as he kept clutching at the tail of every word.
"Since when were you permitted to talk back to me?"
FWOOROOSH!
In that instant, the council chamber was swallowed whole by blue flame.
"Y-Your Majesty—"
"Useless coward."
KWAAAHNG!
As Belphegor slammed her hand down on the table in open displeasure, the entire chamber drowned in azure fire.
It was a phenomenon beyond observation — no eye could catch the flames spreading. It was as though the very space they occupied had been replaced, and they found themselves submerged in blue fire.
The reason Belphegor stewed in such bottomless ennui was nothing more — and nothing less — than this:
"If you're weak, then at least have the sense to keep your mouth shut."
She simply possessed power so absolute that no one, anywhere, was ever worth worrying about.