Chapter 159: The Traitor of Humankind, Deon Hart (7)
"......I'd like to wipe every incubus in the world from my sight."
"Oh my."
Ben clicked his tongue as if in pity.
But the corners of his lips were clearly turned up, and Ed, bristling at that, began a staring contest with him. Deon, who had been watching the comedy unfolding before him without a hint of laughter, turned his head to look at Hien, who had approached him.
The Demon Castle's gardener was smiling brightly at him, holding a single flower in a normal shape for the first time ever.
"It's a flower from the human world!"
"......Until now, you've only ever shown me and gifted me flowers from the Demon Realm. Why go out of your way for this?"
"Lately... you've been staying in the Demon Realm for an unprecedentedly long period. I thought you might be missing the human world......."
He clearly had no interest in flowers, yet this one oddly drew his eye.
A flower that, even knowing it was drawing your gaze, didn't feel unpleasant—rather, it gave off a gentle warmth.
This was a flower from the human world?
"Where did you get it?"
"Near the boundary line on the human world's side, there was a small, well-trimmed mound. This single flower was blooming prettily on top of it, and it caught my eye...."
"A mound?"
"Yes! And in front of it, a well-cut stone had been erected."
So it was a grave. And the erected stone was a headstone.
The human who'd made a grave near the boundary line was absurd, and Hien, who had plucked a flower blooming from atop it, was just as absurd. Should he count himself lucky that Hien hadn't brought back a flower that had been 'placed' there?
A 'blooming' flower was natural, but a 'placed' flower was someone's gift to the dead.
'......Demons don't make graves, I've heard them say.'
If that were the case, it was understandable that he didn't know.
Deon subtly rolled his eyes to observe the other demons watching them. As expected, they all seemed to be oblivious, just blankly staring at the situation.
Ah, except for one. Ed, the one who had traveled back and forth to the human world frequently, had turned pale.
"You little—how dare you bring a flower from a place like that...."
"Hien."
Once again, Ed's words were cut off.
Deon, who hadn't even reached out a hand but had simply cast his gaze down and silently examined the flower at leisure, lifted his eyes to look at Hien. The corners of his lips drew upward slowly, as if in a sketch.
"It seems my temper has sharpened considerably these days. Seeing as you went so far as to bring a flower from the human world, all the while cautiously gauging my mood."
"Th-that's not what I meant."
"Thank you."
"......!"
Under normal circumstances, even being near a grave would be reason enough to feel unsettled, and this flower had been blooming on top of a grave, yet strangely, he felt not a trace of unpleasantness.
At the positive remark, Hien froze, his eyes wide open. Dan approached to receive the flower. But just before Dan could take the flower from Hien's hand, Ed swiftly snatched it away.
'......He really is keeping Dan in check like crazy.'
Now that he thought about it, Ed's reaction when he'd first taken Dan in had been pretty intense, hadn't it?
Hadn't he shouted in a shocked face, 'Am I not good enough for you?!'
[I know... I know that I fall short of your trust. And I also know that it's because of that you don't easily believe in me or entrust things to me. But still... I will work even harder to earn your acknowledgment, so if you would only rely on me more than that human...!]
[......Calm down.]
Even after watching him for a considerable length of time, it was the first time he'd seen such an expression.
Deon glanced back and forth between Ed, who was carefully holding the flower, and Dan, who looked down at his empty hand and gave a single shrug before letting it go, then turned his back and moved toward his room.
Ben seemed to have returned to his own room. Behind him, two sets of footsteps followed.
Before long, Deon, having arrived in front of his room, looked back. His gaze shifted between the two grown men looking at him as if awaiting an order, before finally settling on Ed as he spoke.
"Thank you for escorting me here. You must be tired, so leave the flower to Dan and go get some rest."
"......!"
At the clear dismissal, Ed's hand trembled. As if afraid the flower, which shook in turn, might be damaged, Dan extended his hand as if demanding he hand it over immediately.
Even with that action adding fuel to the fire, Ed somehow managed to maintain his reason. His lips twitched as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he failed to produce a sound and simply handed over the flower before turning away.
'.......'
Dan, who had been silently watching Ed's retreating figure, followed Deon into the room. After a click, securing the door firmly, he found a suitable vase, placed the flower in it, and let out a single murmur, almost as an afterthought.
"That was harsh of you, Master."
"He's a demon."
His casual tone, different from the one he'd used outside, came back laden with an unspoken affirmation.
The distinctly changed atmosphere, even if it was a looser one, should have been bewildering, but Dan simply filled the vase with water as he spoke.
"Still, he was putting in the effort. I feel a bit sorry for him."
"I wonder about that. It's better not to develop unnecessary attachments. No matter how diligent he is with me, he's still a demon in the end."
Deon clearly remembered the situation back when he'd been dying and the Demon King had tried to save him.
Back then, Ed had definitely tried to stop the Demon King.
[Now, seeing as this is a good opportunity, it would also be fun to confirm your fate. Will you die right here and now, or won't you?]
[......Your Majesty.]
A call that carried a tone of restraint, as if he were reluctant.
At the time, he'd been too overwhelmed just storing the incoming information in a corner of his mind to analyze any of it. But now, having regained his reason and dug up those memories to go over them again, he understood.
Ed had considered the price the Demon King would pay to save Deon to be more precious than the 0th Legion Commander's life itself.
'It's not that his attitude toward me is false, but...'
He was not serving 'Deon Hart.' He was serving the '0th Legion Commander.'
The absolute being, recognized by all demons....
"Authority."
"......Pardon?"
"That guy isn't serving me; he's serving my authority. If I keep him by my side, one day he'll end up lifting the outer veil and checking what's inside. So imagine his reaction when he finds out the owner of the monstrous shadow he's been trembling and groveling before is actually nothing but a rabbit."
It was better to keep some distance before such a disaster could strike.
"Master, you're less like a rabbit and more like a kitten...."
"......?"
"Hm, no, that was back in the past. As for now... a snow fox? Do you resemble a snow fox?"
"......What are you going on about?"
Even under an exasperated stare, Dan persisted, rubbing his chin as he pictured a white, fluffy snow fox. But at the voice that followed, he refocused his attention on Deon.
"You're a 'human' who has managed to plant his feet in the Demon Realm by leaning on my 'authority.' If my authority turns out to be an illusion...."
"I know, Master. I'll die."
"You'll most assuredly die."
Even at the chilling acknowledgment, Dan grinned.
"You say we're bound by a shared fate, so help me with all your heart and sincerity, but you make it so difficult to understand."
"......."
"And that's exactly why I'm helping you right now, isn't it?"
He placed the vase in his hands down by the window.
Deon knew that from Dan's perspective, trusting him completely was an impossibility. He'd openly pointed at him in a past conversation and called him 'the person who ruined my life,' so how could Dan trust him?
True, he had then said, 'the person who will help me achieve my goal and the goal itself,' but that was no reason for Deon Hart to be able to trust the person named 'Dan.'
In the end, Deon Hart decided to believe not in the person 'Dan,' but in the 'situation.'
The situation that Dan was obsessed with a 'goal.' The situation that Dan was finding safety beneath the status and authority Deon Hart possessed in the Demon Realm. The situation that if Deon Hart collapsed, Dan, too, would face death.
"I'll leave the flower here. It's the Demon Realm anyway, so putting it by the window is probably meaningless."
"......Don't develop unnecessary attachments to demons."
"Yees. Just because I said I felt a little sorry for him, you're being much too sensitive."
"Feeling sorry is also a kind of emotion close to goodwill."
If you separated feelings into like and dislike, it was at least not 'dislike.'
"That becomes attachment before long, and attachment becomes the cornerstone of building familiarity. Familiarity makes you lower your guard, and a loosened guard will even make a tightly shut mouth grow slack."
"......Understood, I'll be more careful going forward. More importantly, even if you lie down on the bed, at least take your outer robe off first. Isn't it uncomfortable?"
"No."
"......Take it off."
***
"Master, the weather is still chilly, so wear this."
Dan dressed him in an outer robe and fastened it tightly. Not to be outdone, Ed took Deon's hand, saying his hands might get cold, and placed black gloves on them.
Deon, who had been standing blankly between them and silently accepting all of it, firmly refused when they insisted on even wrapping a muffler around his neck. He turned his back and grabbed the black robe that was practically the symbol of the 0th Legion Commander.
He suddenly noticed the color of the robe and let out a short, mirthless laugh.
'The outer robe, the gloves, even the muffler they were about to wrap around me—all black.'
Were they that eager to broadcast far and wide that Deon Hart was on the side of the Demon Realm?
He was no dress-up doll, but whatever. Deon glanced with a look of utter disdain at the two, who were engaged in a silent battle of nerves over who would get to put the robe on him, and began putting on the robe himself, piece by piece.
"Master, you're going to... put it on yourself?"
"Why?"
"No, Master, you're kind of... with clothes...."
"You put them on so messily. ......Is that what they call human charm?"
As if he wanted to use this moment to resolve his hurt feelings over having been kept at a distance, Ed quickly picked up on Dan's trailing words. When his eyes met Deon's, he belatedly added more words.
But it was too late. Human charm—was that really the best cover-up he could tack on?
'I put my clothes on messily?'
Deon lowered his head to examine the robe he'd just finished putting on. It was perfect. Well, it was just a robe you threw on and loosely tied; what could be the problem?
"Master, I'll put it on you again. So please don't make any more strange wrinkles there...."
Correction. It seemed it wasn't perfect. So even putting on a simple robe could have issues.
'I wanted to dress him up neatly since today's an important day,' Dan lamented, then hurried over and started putting the robe on him again. Deon, who had been quietly watching his actions, tilted his head slightly and tossed out a question.
"Am I really that bad at putting on clothes?"
"In all my life, I've never seen clothes this wrinkled before. If I hadn't witnessed you putting it on from the start, I would've raised hell thinking someone had deliberately balled up your clothes like a wad of cloth."
"Your words are impertinent. How on earth is a worthless thing like you serving Demon-nim?"
"Is that why you didn't seem to even think about it?"
"......Humans call that sort of thing human charm, I've heard."
......Was it really that bad?
Even as Ed said it himself, he seemed to feel a prick of guilt and averted his gaze. Dan openly showed his mockery.
"Human charm, of all things, as a defense. Really...."
"......What's the problem? It's not entirely wrong. I've heard that being too perfect can actually create a sense of distance or rejection, so these sorts of traits are necessary too."
At this point, Deon felt he needed to seriously reflect on himself. Leaving the two grumbling, he dusted off his memories regarding clothes.
'......Now that I think about it, I haven't really put on my own clothes that many times.'
Even when he did put them on himself, someone always came along later to straighten his attire.
Even during the Eight-Year War, the mad dogs used to fix his clothes for him. Sometimes, when it was beyond repair, they would just untie everything and dress him from scratch. The nagging to please wear underwear during the process was just a bonus.
'What are those guys up to now, I wonder....'
His thoughts on the Murderer Knight Order were brief. Deon looked back at Dan, who declared it was done and pulled his hands away, then spotted the Demon King waiting leisurely a short distance off and stepped forward.
"All finished getting ready?"
"Yes."
"Your clothes look a bit wrinkled; are you okay with that? Today's an important day. If you want, you can change."
"......It's fine."
"Well, fine."
Grinning, the Demon King turned around as if signaling him to follow and took the lead. Before long, after trailing behind him for a short while, their steps halted in front of a room within the Demon Castle.
Click. He opened the door. As if it had been waiting, a chilly wind clawed at his face, but Deon didn't even register it. He simply widened his eyes slightly at the scene unfolding before him.
"......Oh."
"What do you think? It's decent, right?"
Decent was an understatement.
The wide-open window and the three distinct moons visible beyond it. The lavish interior of the room, and on top of it all, a high-end desk and chair for office work sitting grandly against this backdrop.
"It would have been fine to just stand somewhere and get it over with... It's not even that important, nor will I be speaking for long. Is there really any need to go this far...?"
"Not important? Of course it's important. Isn't today the first day you stand before the eyes of everyone?"
To be precise, it would be the day he stood before everyone as the Betrayer of Humanity.
The day Deon Hart, as the representative of the Demon Realm, would wag his tongue to divide the allied human world.