The Demon Wears Leggings (2)
The heavy iron door of the detention cell burst open with a deafening crash.
One of the goblin officers had just announced the surprise attack by the Human Allied Forces thirty minutes earlier, and the entire prison erupted in chaos. Hans, the old soldier who had been curled up on the floor, let out a terrified scream and clutched his head as he scrambled away.
I froze, my breath caught in my throat, staring at the doorway.
In the darkness, a figure stepped inside. It was Illusia.
Her long silver hair was matted with dark crimson blood, and sticky crimson fluid dripped down over the pitch-black garments I had designed for her. The fabric clung to her body like a second skin, every curve accentuated in ways that made my pulse race.
'Insane. Did the clothes tear? Or did she get hurt because the defense rating was too low?'
My heart plummeted straight to my feet. The massive scythe in her grip looked ready to swing down and sever my neck at any moment.
I flattened myself against the floor, frantically searching for excuses in my mind.
'It's not my fault! It's a fabric defect! No, you used power too brutally—the fabric couldn't hold!'
While I was sobbing internally, Illusia's armored boot stopped right in front of me.
'Swoosh.'
Her bloodstained hand reached toward my nape, but instead of my neck, it brushed against my sweaty fingertips.
"...Get up."
The voice was cool and commanding, yet it carried no killing intent.
I cautiously raised my head. Illusia's crimson eyes stared down at me, but the anger in them was mixed with something far more dangerous—raw, inexplicable desire.
She turned to the goblin officer who had followed her in.
"From this moment forward, this man is no longer a prisoner."
The officer's eyes widened in shock.
Illusia lightly squeezed my hand and declared with absolute authority:
"This man is my exclusive tailor from now on. Within the 1st Corps barracks, provide him the safest and most spacious sealed room. Anyone who dares to touch even a single strand of his hair will be split in half by my own hands."
"Yes, my lady! I will obey at once!"
The officer dropped to his knees and slammed his forehead against the floor in a panic.
I stared at Illusia with dazed eyes. She offered me a faint, almost shy smile, then turned toward the barracks.
'I survived. No, I survived—and succeeded.'
The tension in my body melted away, leaving my legs trembling.
Hans grabbed the hem of my pants and began to sob loudly.
"You're so happy, old man."
"I live... I actually live!! Ed, it's all thanks to you!"
At Hans's outburst, I sat up from the bed and let out a soft chuckle.
"It wasn't just me. You woke me up first, and more importantly, you told me about the special properties of the abyssal spider leather."
"If I hadn't known that mana contracts and shrinks, I wouldn't have come up with that sewing method either."
His awkward gratitude made Hans scratch the back of his neck, looking embarrassed.
I stood up, walked to the table, and picked up a water glass, casually dropping a question.
"By the way, old man. Before you were dragged here as a supply soldier, what exactly were you doing?"
"An ordinary conscript soldier wouldn't have the slightest clue about the magical properties of monster leather."
At my sharp observation, Hans startled, then flashed a bitter yet proud smile as he wiped the grease from his lips.
"Caught on, huh? Yeah, I'm a core executive of the Black Anvil Merchant Guild that once ruled the southern continent."
"A guild executive?"
"Exactly. Merchants go anywhere as long as they have money. Not just the southern continent, but also neutral zones bordering the demon realm. I dealt in all kinds of rare items. Thanks to that, I can confidently say my knowledge of monster byproducts, demon realm ecology, and rare goods surpasses even the scholars from the magic towers."
Hans let out a heavy sigh and shook his head.
"I got scammed by a trusted partner, turned into a debtor, and was dragged into the army..."
'Good thing.'
There was no law that said people in bad situations had to die. It seemed that entering a fantasy world also came with the standard of meeting helpful allies.
Hans patted my shoulder and laughed boisterously.
"Since you saved my life, I have to return the favor."
"If you have any questions about rare materials or demon realm ecology, ask me anytime. I'll use all my knowledge to help you with your clothing designs."
"That's reassuring. I'll probably ask a lot of annoying questions from now on, so prepare yourself."
I smiled back and clinked my glass against his.
The warm atmosphere filled the room.
But suddenly Hans glanced around nervously, lowered his voice, and leaned close to me. A strange mix of suspicion and curiosity twisted his wrinkled face.
"Ed. While I was roaming the guild, I saw all kinds of magical artifacts."
"Yeah?"
"The armor you made. The performance is truly insane. I only realized it when I saw the corps commander's figure today."
Hans cleared his throat and avoided my gaze.
"Was it really necessary to make the clothes so shamelessly, or rather, so revealing? The belly is completely exposed, and the lower body clings so embarrassingly. Did your secret tastes come out a little too much?"
"Puuuh!"
I spat out the water I had been drinking.
Hans patted my back with a chuckle as I coughed violently.
"W-what nonsense! My tastes?!"
"Or not. A man can do that. The commander's figure is so perfect, after all."
"You old man! It's clothes with ergonomic design!"
My face flushed red.
'How am I supposed to explain modern sports wear to this fantasy-world old man?!'
While I was sweating internally and complaining about my injustice, Hans smiled slyly and went back to tearing into the meat.
"Got it, got it. How could an old man understand the deep meaning of a genius artist. Anyway, thanks to your excellent 'ergonomic' taste, our necks are still attached. Lucky for us."
I clicked my tongue and flopped onto the bed.
With the prison's tension gone, even these ridiculous jokes felt strangely sweet.
But I knew this peace wouldn't last forever.
Even if we weren't ordinary prisoners, we were still inside the Demon King's Army. Since the commander had slaughtered the Human Allied Forces in my clothes, escaping to the human side was now impossible. I would have no choice but to please the commander.
I looked up at the ceiling and quietly began organizing my thoughts.
'One outfit isn't enough to survive. I need to keep making clothes.'
The real survival game was only just beginning.
...
'Finally, I can live properly.'
From rolling around on the hellish prison floor and being treated as the commander's exclusive tailor, it felt like I had returned to the days of being a world-class chief fashion designer.
But I couldn't afford to be complacent.
My life still hung by the whims of that mad blood slayer.
'Click.'
At that moment, the door of the sealed room opened silently.
I reflexively stood up.
Standing at the doorway was Illusia. Without any officers following her, she wore nothing but a thin, soft silk gown that barely covered her body.
"Commander. What business brings you here at such an ambitious hour?"
I hurriedly got off the bed and bowed politely.
Hans screamed and shrank into the corner.
Illusia locked the door and slowly approached me.
"I came to have my clothes inspected."
She untied the strings of her gown.
Thin silk cascaded to the floor, revealing the abyssal spider shadow set I had made for her in all its naked glory.
The blood smell had been washed away, leaving a faint, clean soap scent rising from her white skin.
"Inspection?"
"Because of the intense movement during battle—or perhaps the heat—there's a slight looseness in the underbust band and around the thighs. The mana circulation seems not as strong as before the battlefield."
Illusia avoided my gaze and spoke gruffly.
'Really loosened?'
I swallowed and put the old yellow ruler around my neck.
"Let me check. Excuse me."
I approached her and carefully placed my fingertips on the underbust band.
'Startle.'
As soon as my fingers touched, Illusia's shoulders jumped up.
She bit her lower lip hard and held her breath. The fabric still clung to her skin, but my sensitive fingertips detected that the tension in the seams I had sewn had slightly weakened.
"Commander is right. The tension has collapsed."
"See? Your clothes are defective."
There was a strange sense of relief in her voice. She seemed relieved that she hadn't been forcing anything.
I frowned and re-swept the fabric grain.
"The abyssal spider leather itself is fine. The problem is the mana threads I used for sewing."
"Mana threads?"
"To maintain a perfect fit, I need an accurate analysis of how the commander uses mana in battle. How do you fight?"
Illusia opened her mouth, her body trembling slightly.
"I am a demon who rules blood."
"A demon who rules blood?"
"Yes. When I smell the scent of blood in battle, or when an enemy's blood touches my skin, my heart beats five times faster than normal. My mana core overheats to the extreme, boiling the blood in my vessels. I carry that boiling blood on my scythe as my fighting style."
I placed a slight pressure on the hand resting on her thigh and pondered her explanation.
'Insane. A walking boiler?'
Smelling blood caused the heart to explode and body temperature to spike. Increased blood flow and the ability to convert blood into power.
'That's why she wore that brutal armor. Boiling blood trapped inside an iron mass that couldn't dissipate heat at all—her innards would have cooked long ago.'
I felt my designer's instincts stirring.
Applying modern fashion functionality to the characteristics of a fantasy world.
This was the perfect challenge that drove me insane.
"Indeed. Blood flow increased, and body temperature rose."
"Didn't the body temperature boil like a furnace? Extreme high heat, and the mana threads couldn't hold, melting slightly?"
At my diagnosis, Illusia nodded.
"Then fix it right away. The feeling of mana leaking is unpleasant."
"For now, I'll tighten the threads again. Inhale, and stop."
I pressed both thumbs hard against her underbust band.
'Paaat.'
"Hah!"
A moan escaped Illusia's lips.
Blue mana flowing from my fingertips seeped into the mana threads and contracted the fabric tightly once more.
As the band squeezed her chest, the dispersed mana cooled and flowed smoothly again.
She leaned on my shoulder, her legs weak, breathing roughly.
I swept my palm hard along the seams of the leggings from her waist to her hips and thighs.
Once the fixing was done, I withdrew my hands and took a step back.
"For now it's fine, but these ordinary mana threads won't hold the commander's heat for long. We need new threads that maintain extreme tension without burning in fire."
I turned toward Hans, who was crumpled in the corner.
"Old man. Do you know anything?"
Hans, the former guild executive, stroked his beard and narrowed his eyes. It was the moment of a veteran merchant's insight.
"Threads that maintain resonance while enduring that insane heat. Such things should be the 'Flame Arachne's Core Thread' from the southern volcanic region."
"Flame Arachne?"
"A monster spider that bathes in lava. The core thread harvested from near its heart boasts the continent's highest heat resistance."
"But it's a territory no demon race can easily enter. Even if you gather a large extermination team, there will be casualties."
At Hans's words, I clicked my tongue.
To make good clothes, good material was essential.
"Extermination team is unnecessary."
At that moment, Illusia, who had finally calmed her rough breathing, spoke with a firm voice.
"I will go myself."
"What? The commander is going personally?"
"Leaving the front line just to get a bunch of threads?"
I was shocked and tried to protest, but Illusia countered.
"Anyway, I leave command to my subordinates and fight directly. Even without me, the front line will be maintained."
"But obtaining the mana threads is to increase my combat power. This is far more important than leaving the front line for a few days. And... you will accompany me."
Illusia's crimson eyes flashed at me. I doubted my ears.
"M-me? I'm a tailor who hasn't even held a sword once!"
"Once you get the fabric, you have to adjust it to my body right there. Any error not acceptable is your fault."
Illusia raised her chin arrogantly.
'Oh no, the words I just spat out to survive are coming back as bad omens!'
...
'These newly fitted defensive gears are a bit embarrassing, but really comfortable...'
'I can never let them be taken away. This man stays by my side. I will only let him breathe in front of my eyes.'
Illusia's mind was filled with the thought that she could never let Ed go.
Leaving this precious, wondrous tailor alone in the barracks?
It was absolutely impossible.
While she was away, those cunning competitors might send spies to abduct him.
She unconsciously touched the underbust band where Ed's hand had been.
"No objections are allowed. We depart for the volcanic region at dawn tomorrow. Prepare yourselves."
Thick possessiveness and obsession flickered thickly in Illusia's eyes.