The Dragonkin and the Demonkin (2)
The atmosphere of the Legion Commander meeting could only be described as utterly demolished.
And it was all Twelve's fault, for slinging mud at Lilith when she was, for all intents and purposes, a parachute appointee whom nobody had any business crossing.
What made Belphegor even angrier was the fact that despite having been parachuted in, Lilith had racked up one brilliant achievement after another.
Wasn't she a splendid niece?
Diligent, clever, and hardworking to boot.
Her aunt had noticed a few sloppy edges here and there herself, but that was simply what a parachute appointment was for.
Belphegor had been raising Lilith with a generous heart and a long-term plan.
Specifically, the ambition of dumping every last shred of her own work onto the girl someday.
"If you're that dissatisfied, then go verify it yourself! That's right — anyone can sling baseless slander! Don't show your face in front of me again until you've found concrete evidence!"
"But—!"
"You certainly have a lot to say! I hereby strip you of your position as Legion Commander as well! From this moment on, your name is 'Haona'!"
"Ghhk!"
"If you understand, then get out, Lieutenant General Haona. This room is reserved for talks between me and the Legion Commanders!"
"...My apologies."
The former Twelve, now Lieutenant General Haona, ground his teeth as he slunk out of the meeting hall.
The other Legion Commanders felt genuine terror watching his already rustic-sounding name become even more rustic.
Next time, it could be any one of them up there. And 'Haona' was actually one of the merciful options. It could get far worse.
Under the Demon King's reign of terror, the Legion Commanders swallowed dry saliva and held their tongues.
"Hmph."
With Belphegor's snort, the blue flames that had been scorching the entire meeting hall snuffed out in an instant.
Overwhelming theater — the kind that made the very thought of defiance impossible.
That this was merely a fraction of her emotional expression said everything about just how strong the current Demon King, Belphegor, truly was.
Auntie... she could do something like that? I always thought she was just muscle.
And this was the first time Lilith had ever witnessed that power.
It carried a presence on an entirely different plane from the Aunt Belphegor she remembered from childhood.
No, wait — her appearance hadn't changed all that much. Lilith was actually taller than her now.
Come to think of it, back then her aunt had been living as a reasonably upstanding member of society — until one day she'd started looking lethargic and slothful, and Lilith had found it strange.
But with power like that... watching those flickering glimpses of strength capable of overwhelming every Legion Commander single-handedly...
I suppose lethargy would be only natural...
For the first time, Lilith truly understood the Belphegor of today.
Not the immature aunt of her memories, but the Demon King itself.
Uuu... I don't wanna work.
Whether it was the suffocating air or something else, tears seemed to trickle from Lilith's eyes.
Perhaps because the Glacies Magic Tower specialized in research on water, ice, and stasis, its burn treatment outperformed even the Heavenly God Order's potions — and Esmeralda marveled at it.
"Ours are expensive because they're worth the price, Lady Hero. Where on earth do you get off comparing the Heavenly God Order to some Magic Tower?"
"Sometimes I feel genuinely sorry for your warped pride, Irina."
"Could you call it self-respect, please?"
"Fine. That's exactly what it is. Your pathetic little self-respect breaks my heart."
"..."
Esmeralda couldn't help but pity how obsessively Irina fixated on the Order's prestige.
Then again, considering the Order's glory days, it was hardly surprising she harbored a complex about now trailing a single step behind the Magic Tower.
"Ahaha... even if you try to pick a fight, we're not supporting you with Order potions, so don't bother asking."
"I never asked. How much of a miser do you take me for?"
"Hmm. Maybe you wouldn't have seemed like one, if only I'd never watched you secretly pack up leftover food from the party table."
"...You saw that?"
"But of course."
Irina smiled sweetly as Esmeralda's face rotted in real time.
Yes, indeed — even a ruined noble keeps up appearances for three years. There was no way in hell Esmeralda was qualified to pity the Saintess of the Heavenly God Order.
"So? How is Jim's condition?"
"His brain is drowning in mana from the magic. Lady Milia really went too far. I never imagined she'd take it this far."
While Irina had been unconscious, Milia had apparently done something to Jim.
Milia had been summoned by the Tower Master, so Irina had tried to inspect the work herself — but far too many spells had been layered on at once, and the analysis was taking time.
"Well, thankfully there's nothing seriously wrong. No brainwashing, no hypnotic suggestions — it just looks like a crude trick to knock his consciousness out."
"Wow, you're the exact opposite, huh?"
"I know, right? If I'd done it, I would have made him able to see nothing but me."
"Hah! Jim's a demon — one touch from you and he'd turn into an idiot."
"Wouldn't that be lovely? Fufu."
Esmeralda had not been agreeing. She'd been telling her to knock it off.
But having just realized that for Irina, turning Jim into an idiot was synonymous with making him look only at her, Esmeralda found she couldn't laugh anymore.
Irina really is dangerous.
The deeper her affection for Jim grew, the more clearly Esmeralda could feel Irina's love drifting down a warped path.
In practice, she was on par with Milia now.
Considering Irina's talent for schemes, if anything that estimate was underselling it — so thought Esmeralda.
Of course, had she known that Milia intended to melt Jim down whole and drink him, the assessment might have shifted.
My stomach hurts...
Tightrope-walking between Milia's raw, unfiltered emotional attacks and Irina's sinister machinations.
Merely mediating between the two had begun to sour Esmeralda's stomach, so she started wolfing down the cake she'd smuggled out of the party table.
For a country girl like her, pastries like this were something she might never taste in her entire life.
It was unbearably sweet.
"Kghk!"
Esmeralda, cheeks stuffed to bursting with cake, swiveled her head to the side with bleary eyes at the sound of a hoarse voice.
Jim had finally opened his eyes.
"Are you alright, Jim?"
"...Lately, whenever I wake up, I get the feeling all of you are in my room. Is it just my imagination?"
"Probably just your imagination? Ah — unless you mind it?"
Even if you do, tough luck.
Esmeralda asked while preparing that answer.
"Well, waking up to beauties like these right off the bat — I can't complain about the mood."
"Oh, um... yes."
Jim was, after all, an honest man.
Apart from concealing that he was a demon and a spy, Jim was a man who told almost no lies.
That blunt, honest assessment landed like a body blow, and Esmeralda could only shove more innocent cake into her mouth.
That made four slices already.
"I see. So you're in a good mood. Fufu, I'm glad too that you woke up safe, Jim."
Esmeralda turned her head with an awkward smile, but Irina seized the moment to respond to Jim, as if it were a golden opportunity.
Her expression of pure, unfeigned relief was beautiful in the way of something designed so that anyone who didn't know better couldn't help but fall for it.
Smiled with the smile Irina had honed over long years, even Jim would have had no choice but to blush.
And yet...
"I see. Thank you."
Jim didn't take the bait.
At that deadpan reply, Irina's expression stiffened, and Esmeralda studied Jim with bleary, half-lidded eyes.
The answer was unexpectedly simple.
Jim simply hadn't been looking at Irina's face from the start.
"Um..."
"Jim, shouldn't you look people in the face when you talk to them?"
"Ah, my apologies. I got confused."
Confused his chest with a face, perhaps?
Esmeralda snorted, and Irina flushed scarlet with shame.
Of course, whether Irina's face was red with shame or not was an unknowable variable, since Jim was busy drinking in the view of her chest and thighs.
"Hmm, you do seem fine. You looked badly hurt during the fight earlier."
"Ah! You were worried about me? Of course you were. I believed in you."
So Jim spent a while tormenting Irina with his gaze before finally nodding with a composed air and speaking. He looked serious enough that anyone else would have thought, my, how worried he must have been about Irina.
But he wasn't the only one here with Irina.
[Note: I was quite sad that the exposure disappeared.]
Somehow, his acting skills only inflated to monstrous proportions at times like this.
Esmeralda shook her head, recalling the Jim who had worn that earnest expression while remembering the feel of her thigh back at the Heavenly God Order.
If he'd only put half that effort in during normal times...
Nobody would have to end up exhausted like this.
The next day.
Milia returned, wearing a dazed expression — apparently swamped with Magic Tower business.
She'd been run off her feet with cleanup and follow-up measures ever since the battle with Five, so exhaustion was only natural.
"Uuu, so tired... Jim, my chest feels heavy. Will you hold it for me?"
"Carrying things is my specialty, after all. It's not for nothing that I'm the porter — allow me to take personal responsibility for carrying Lady Milia's chest from here on out."
"Jim. If you don't want to die, remove your hand. That's sexual harassment."
"If it happens by mutual consent, it's not sexual harassment!"
"Fine. Granted. Then let me rephrase. If you don't want to die, take your hand off. Because I want to kill you."
"Understood."
Esmeralda gave up on persuasion.
After all, what was easier than simply crushing things with raw force?
Jim clicked his tongue in disappointment, but had no choice but to withdraw meekly.
He'd felt genuine terror at Esmeralda's soft, gentle voice.
That one had been deadly serious.
Jim knew better than anyone that even when she acted like a fool, Esmeralda cut through matters like this without hesitation.
Esmeralda watched the suddenly docile Jim for a moment, then finally shifted her gaze.
"Milia, you need to be careful. I don't care how comfortable you are with Jim, but saying things like that — he'll take it as seduction."
"It is seduction."
"..."
"It really is seduct— mmphh."
Esmeralda opted to physically seal Milia's mouth first.
A formidable adversary, truly.
Warning her with her eyes, Esmeralda quietly studied Milia.
And what's this — something new's popped up again?
Bioengineering Magic Lv. 1[NEW!]
Unfortunately, as far as Esmeralda was concerned, she couldn't even begin to guess what purpose Milia had in mind when she started learning such magic.