The Demon Takes Flight
The REM sleep after so long was impossibly sweet. I wished desperately for this moment to last forever. But the trait does not understand the heart of a demon(?).
Kkyu! Kkyu! Kkyuu!
Translation: Master! Wake up! Hurry, hurry!
It was Kkachi. ‘Shut up for a second.’
The cute—no, the utterly horrifying alarm that was diligently dragging my consciousness, which had been peacefully submerged in the sea of sleep, back to the surface. If it had been an ordinary alarm clock I would have dismantled it myself and scattered the pieces into the air. It was truly a shame.
Kkyu! Kkyukk! Kkyurururururuk!!!
‘Fine, fine, I’ll get up.’
Unable to withstand the narrative-grade rampage that even a rabid raccoon would yield to, I reluctantly pried my eyelids open.
Hup! An eyelid pull-up strenuous enough to challenge a true hell-chang who benches five hundred pounds for three reps. I was proud of myself for somehow managing it.
Flash.
Eyes forced half-open. A complimentary corneal massage from visible light. Cancelled, however, by the black lenses.
Ultra-high-speed dark adaptation in the blink of an eye. After that, the vision that filled my sight belonged to his—or her—distinct, soft, perfectly balanced features…?
In those black pupils that held a faint gleam, an alien crow mask was reflected.
So that was why Kkachi had been throwing such a fit because of our contractor? But what exactly are you doing?
“...?”
“....”
The extremely uncomfortable angle of someone staring down at me as I lay perfectly straight with both arms crossed over my chest like a pharaoh’s mummy. I nearly smashed my own head in shock.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Are you awake now?”
“Can’t you see I’m lying down?”
“Is that a demon-style joke?”
It had been a joke I was confident in, but the slightly furrowed brow suggested the result was poor.
“If it was?”
“I will refuse to answer that question.”
“An excellent response. So what were you doing?”
“I was observing because Sir Raven’s facial structure is fascinating.”
“I see. That makes sense.”
There was no gap in the logic, so I dropped the interrogation. Even I would have observed frantically if a creature this strangely formed was lying still. Still, staring with the serious expression of a biologist peering through a microscope… I wished she would stop. I had not yet developed any resistance to other people’s gazes. It was embarrassing.
“It seems we need to head out, so I would appreciate it if you could get up soon.”
“What’s the business?”
“I’m going to register as an adventurer.”
“Interesting.”
Tell me more.
I slowly raised my upper body, bent one knee, rested an arm on it, and faced my contractor. Yuri knelt neatly like a well-bred young lady or young master, meeting my eyes. Her black hair, which did not appear to have been washed yet still carried a subtle luster, flowed downward without a single strand asserting itself, softly brushing her shoulders.
“Does registering as an adventurer mean we can enter the dungeon right away?”
“That is what I understand.”
“Hmm. Then do I need to register as well?”
“Demons are not issued adventurer qualifications.”
“Then how am I supposed to enter the dungeon? I thought adventurer registration was required to enter the dungeon.”
“I believe summons or familiars do not require adventurer registration.”
A familiar, huh. In game terms, that put me on the same level as a pet?
“The treatment is rather amusing.”
“It is not my fault, but I apologize.”
“It’s fine. I’ll do my best to look like a crow summon.”
“You’re surprisingly the type to hold a grudge?”
“Crows are like that by nature.”
“Can you transform into a crow as well?”
Transform? I may be wearing a rather stylish mask, but I am not a Kamen Rider. I am closer to the main villain who explodes from a Rider Kick.
“That is impossible. Do you think this long body could be compressed to the compact size of a crow?”
“No.”
“Well, there you have it.”
“It is a little disappointing.”
“I agree.”
If I could become a crow I could perch on my contractor’s shoulder and travel comfortably. Walking means repeating steps, and repetition is generally classified as labor. It is extremely boring.
“Hmm.”
“Umm.”
After repeating that boring and meaningless action for roughly thirty minutes.
“Is this dilapidated wreck—too sorry to even call a ruined house and horribly constructed—the adventurer guild?”
“This is our base.”
“I see.”
My contractor and I had gotten lost in front of the base.
Even though the sun was in the sky, the damp streets remained submerged in shadow. The collective of gloomy buildings, stacked densely and towering high to concentrate the city’s darkness into one place. The bottom of Bastion, maliciously designed, thoroughly trampling any notion of convenience or artistry. A place where notorious criminals, orphans who had lost their parents, and the destitute who had lost their will to live were all mixed together. An open prison where they lived as quiet as dead mice.
The Slums. Right now, in this place the citizens of Bastion called the slum.
“We are here?”
“Exactly.”
“Why?”
“We have no money.”
“I see.”
It left a bitter taste in my mouth that even a fantasy world ran on the logic of capital.
“I think we should hurry to the dungeon after all.”
“But to do that we must first go to the adventurer guild.”
“Then let’s go quickly.”
“I am going.”
“But why do we keep returning to the base?”
“....”
The contractor had gone silent as if she had turned into a boomerang. Or perhaps she was casting ‘You bark, I’ll close my ears and proceed.’ It seemed to be the latter.
“Hey, proud honorary resident of the slums.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t tell me you still haven’t memorized the way?”
“Yes.”
“Dear me.”
The contractor who had suddenly become unable to utter any word longer than a single syllable. Her expression did not change much, but her eyebrows were forming a very slight V, indicating her mood was quite uncomfortable.
Therefore the teasing would end here. I am a seasoned out-boxer who knows when to hit and run. I read the line better than a spider.
“....”
“....”
Was I wrong? Sorry about that. I will not tease you anymore, so please look forward and walk slowly. I am afraid you might fall and scrape your knees.
After somehow soothing the contractor with my pathetic eloquence and hearing the full story, I learned the surprising fact that our demon summoner had been in the dungeon city for less than a day.
“Impressive.”
“You are not being sarcastic, are you?”
“I am praising my contractor’s outstanding drive. It is the early-rising crow that pecks out the eyes of corpses, after all.”
“Thank you. Is that a demon proverb?”
“It is a crow proverb.”
“My knowledge has increased.”
A positive answer paired with an expression of complete disinterest. How harsh.
“So what is the plan? Do you intend to keep wandering the slums like this and perhaps make a map to sell?”
“You are being sarcastic.”
This is exactly why I dislike quick-witted dark mages.
“Sigh…”
The contractor who had abandoned ‘Yuri! Go where you want to go!’ and was now leaning against the wall letting out a deep sigh. She wore the face of a middle-schooler with too much homework who had run into an unexpected obstacle and was wasting precious time.
“Ummm. It would be nice if we could confirm our position from a high place.”
As she spoke, the contractor glanced at me. Her half-lidded eyes, heavy with fatigue from a sleepless night, carried a quiet pressure.
What is this? This spirit pressure.
No way. Was she hoping for the exact thing I was thinking of right now?
“That’s right!”
“To find a building with a rooftop and commit illegal trespass…”
“Not that.”
“...!”
Huk! There it was at last. The polite character’s contempt, dead-serious expression, and casual speech. How much had I twisted my body since morning simply to observe this rare expression and emotion that sent goosebumps racing across my skin!
The sincere condemnation of a male or female. A Bluetooth-level gourmet experience that never reaches the taste buds. Well, putting that aside.
In truth I knew exactly what our contractor wanted from me.
The three representative parts that come to mind when one thinks of a demon: horns, tail, wings.
She must want me to bring out the wings.
But I am not a demon, merely a slightly unusual human. There was no way I had wings, right? Well, if she truly wanted them, I could produce them.
“Excuse me for a moment.”
“...?!”
I lightly lifted the contractor in a princess carry.
“You are as light as a feather.”
“I have not eaten a single meal since yesterday.”
“I see.”
I had expected her to blush in embarrassment, but after only a brief moment of fluster at the start she soon leaned against me as if comfortable.
‘Her body temperature is high. Perhaps because she is a child.’
She was light from not eating, and although it was a little late, we should hurry to get breakfast. You have to eat well if you want to grow up like me. Of course that does not mean you will reach nearly two meters.
“Hold on tight.”
“In this position?”
“I will hold you securely.”
“Thank you.”
Taht!
I kicked off the wall in succession, rapidly ascending.
“Uee… Uwoo….”
Left, right, left, right, left, right. Feeble screams rose from my arms in a steady rhythm.
The instant I landed on the rooftop I leaped powerfully.
-Crack.
It sounded as if the floor had shattered, but it was probably my imagination.
And then.
‘Deploy.’
Abyssal Wings — Manifest
In an instant a pair of black arms tore through the skin of my back and grew outward. Then came chained growth, division, and fusion beginning from the first branches. Arms crossing arms, hands crossing hands, forming the shape of wings.
A veteran’s biologically modified transportation method created to move quickly and safely across the poorly maintained roads of a post-apocalyptic world.
Praise it! You frail humans without wings.
It is the Ak?ma’s splendid flight.
—Flap!
Majestic yet ominous jet-black wings unfurled across the sky of the dungeon city, casting the enormous shadow of a demon (who was not actually one) upon the ground.
“It’s high!?”
Is it high? Ah. By medieval standards it might be considered high.
Kkyu!
Excited at having pioneered the unknown realm of the sky, Kkachi began grabbing the coat—more precisely, my collar—so forcefully that the contractor found it uncomfortable.
But saying it was high already would be a problem. To conserve bio-energy we needed to ascend much higher.
“I don’t like it…”
To become an adult you must do things you dislike, little one.