Chapter 165: A Time When Many Are Weary (1)
Unless humans deliberately set a trap from the very beginning, it was nearly impossible for a mere group of humans to capture a Legion Commander. Silua, whose body was warmed up from fierce combat on the front lines, would have wiped them out instead of being captured.
In fact, she had been overwhelmingly pushing back the Murderer Knight Order in the battle that broke out when they encountered each other. If she hadn't been toying with them for fun, the knights' lives would have ended right there.
Fortunately, the Legion Commander's leisure became the catalyst that extended the squad members' lifespans.
[...Huh?]
[...]
[What's this.]
A fighting style that closely resembled that of Deon Hart, the 0th Legion Commander of the Demon King's army.
It was a style that would have demonstrated great power against multiple opponents, though now they faced only a single overwhelming enemy. Had they been on a battlefield, it would have swayed the morale of both enemy and ally alike.
Coincidentally, Silua was someone who fanatically raved over Deon Hart's combat style. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke to the human grinding his teeth beneath her foot.
[Your fighting style resembles someone I deeply respect...]
[...]
[Do you happen to know a man named Deon Hart?]
[...Why is our captain's name coming out of your mouth?]
[Captain? Deon-nim?]
[Deon-nim? What's your relationship with our captain?]
After that, it took no time at all for them to strike up a friendship.
[Oh my god, he was that famous in the human world? As expected of Deon-nim!]
[To think he wielded that much influence even in the Demon Realm...! As expected of the captain!]
How long had they been chattering away about Deon Hart's status and anecdotes from each faction? A thought suddenly struck Silua, and she opened her mouth.
[More importantly, you said you wanted to meet Deon-nim? Well... since you're his subordinates, maybe it'll be fine. Though it's still hard to trust you completely...]
If it became a problem, she could just kill them then, so it didn't matter.
She shrugged lightly and added, as if something had just occurred to her.
[Still, I don't want to get scolded by His Majesty the Demon King, so you take the bad guy role.]
[...?]
[You, who are very skilled as Deon-nim's subordinates, captured me. I had no choice in the matter.]
...That was the beginning of the commotion, and the sight Deon Hart witnessed when he came outside.
'Those crazy bastards.'
How did they capture the 7th Legion Commander? No, judging by the atmosphere, it looked like the 7th Legion Commander had let herself be captured.
At the bizarre sight, my hand moved instinctively to the hilt of the dagger at my waist. I always strapped on my dagger sheath as if fully arming myself whenever I stepped out of my room, but this wasn't what I wore it for.
I suppressed the impulse by clenching my fist and stepped toward that grotesque group. The demons who recognized Deon Hart stepped aside, clearing a path.
Deon paused for a moment.
'...I don't want to talk to them.'
If I talked to them, things were going to get incredibly troublesome. Couldn't I just pretend not to know them?
The path had opened, leaving them in plain view, but they hadn't spotted this side yet. I was debating whether to just turn around and walk away when a voice thick with delight rang out loudly.
"Ah, Captain!"
"Captain? Where!"
"...Haah."
"Wow, it really is the Captain!"
So now I couldn't go back either.
Deon straightened his back and walked over to the shameless hostage-takers, maintaining a measured stride. With all eyes fixed on him, a restrained voice flowed out elegantly.
"What are you doing here?"
"What do you mean? We came to see you, Captain!"
"To abandon us and leave, that's too cruel, sir!"
"More importantly, Captain! You've gotten so gaunt! Don't tell me they've been starving you here?!"
"Those wicked demon bastards! How dare they starve our Captain!"
This is the very den of those wicked demon bastards, you see...
Deon, at a loss for words, watched the people circling around him making a fuss, then raised a hand and touched the corner of his mouth. A faint sigh leaked out.
It was a very faint sigh, but there was no way those who had been watching Deon's expression this whole time would miss it.
A sigh was usually negative! A demon soldier seized the opportunity, his eyes gleaming, and spoke.
"Deon-nim, may this 'wicked demon bastard' kill these loose-lipped humans?"
"They may not look it, but they're my subordinates. Don't do that."
"Subordinates... I thought maybe, but they really are his subordinates..."
The demon soldier retreated, looking shocked. Deon turned his eyes again to look at the mad dogs who weren't the least bit intimidated even in the Demon Realm.
How did they get here? Rien wouldn't have just sat by and watched.
...Ah, right. Rien.
"What about Lady Rien?"
"Well, about that..."
"..."
"So, the thing is..."
They ditched her and ran. She's probably clutching the back of her neck right about now.
Because that's what I'm doing right now. I redirected my hand, which had been heading for the back of my neck, and pressed my brow.
The flow of thought shifted quickly.
'...Now isn't the time to be holding onto these bastards and grilling them.'
I raised my gaze. I took in the 7th Legion Commander, who was grinning from ear to ear by herself as if none of this had anything to do with her.
"Silua. Why is the 7th Legion Commander, who should be at the Boundary Line... here?"
"Ah, I came here briefly to deliver something, you see!"
"Deliver?"
"Yes, I received a request from the 2nd Legion Commander. She said she was busy gathering information. She also asked me to convey her apologies for the rudeness of not coming to see you in person."
So they ran into the mad dogs on the way here.
I accepted the box thrust before my eyes. A fairly heavy weight settled in my hands. At a glance, a faint, fishy scent of blood was noticeable.
—Had the blood scent rubbed off from somewhere else, or was it coming from inside here?
Unsure which it was, or what this even was, Deon frowned slightly as if perplexed while looking at it. Then, without hesitation, he opened the lid.
"...Huh."
The thick scent of blood spread in all directions.
The demons stirred, and Dan, who had been standing behind him, let out an exclamation that might have been a hollow laugh. The Murderer Knight Order, who had stiffened momentarily, asked what it was and made a fuss disguised as curiosity, but Deon merely stared down at it without any change in expression.
Inside the box was a man's head.
'The brother of the King of Reweche.'
It was a face I had seen before. Dvelania had shown me a portrait once.
[Do you really have to see it? It's a face that's going to die anyway.]
[I should at least know whose face I'm killing.]
Indeed, even his impression looked upright.
Deon stared at it for a long while before closing the lid. He tried to pass it to Dan... but seeing Dan's horrified look, he passed it to Ed and called Dan over.
"You must be busy with the task I gave you. You don't have to be here standing guard. Go on and do your work."
"Yes."
Dan glanced sidelong at Ed, who looked oddly smug, answered with a slight bow of his head, and withdrew. The Murderer Knight Order members, who had noticed him belatedly, raised their voices with "Huh?!"
"Wow, did you ditch us and follow the Captain alone? You traitor!"
"If you knew, you should have told us too instead of following him by yourself!"
"After we poured our hearts into teaching you!"
"You rotten bastard!"
"...Enough. Let's go inside first. Follow me."
"Ah, Captain. What on earth is that tone? I can't get used to— Heek!"
A dagger pierced the ground right in front of the feet of the one who had been chattering away.
The eyes of the squad members, who had flinched and raised their heads, met Deon's in midair. He was still in the posture of having thrown the dagger, a gentle smile gracing his face.
"Don't you think we need a detailed conversation?"
"I thi-think we might be fine..."
"Shut up and follow me."
"Yes, sir."
This was a disaster. Our captain was oozing the scent of Marquis Primiro.
The terror engraved in their brains reacted reflexively. Though their bodies froze for a moment, the squad members soon followed behind Deon obediently, trembling all over.
***
"Aaaagh! No... no...!!"
His younger brother was dead. The King of Reweche collapsed over the corpse draped in white cloth and let out a scream that was indistinguishable from a wail of grief. The body was headless, giving him every reason to deny the truth, but he had already accepted reality.
He had tried to deny it several times already.
[Please... please tell me this is not my brother.]
[Your Majesty...]
[His head... is missing. Isn't it? So it's possible I could be mistaken. Hm?]
He was a righteous child. He lived his whole life uprightly without a single common deviation, so his end should not be like this. The body should at least be intact.
"Child... I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything..."
Tears dripped down as if wringing every drop of moisture from his body.
Reweche had clearly sent a request for support to the alliance the moment the demons stood at its gates. But Sanguk sent insufficient troops, and the Empire, from which the greatest help was expected, seemed to delay its answer. Just as support arrived and brought a moment of relief, the quality of the troops hit rock bottom, bringing only despair. It was patently obvious to anyone that they had conscripted commoners or the poor and sent them.
In the end, his younger brother, unable to stand by and watch, stepped forward.
[I will go.]
[No. It's dangerous.]
[I am a general of this kingdom. I must do my duty.]
[The kingdom still has other commanders besides you. If we send them...]
[Your Majesty also knows that they are insufficient.]
[But.]
[I am sorry, Your Majesty.]
[...]
He should have stopped him. No, he should not have entered the alliance in the first place. Reweche had done so much for the Empire, and this was the thanks it received?
Sorrow and despair soon turned to rage.
The king raised his head. His two eyes, heavily bloodshot with tears streaming down, now gleamed with a blue, murderous aura.
Just as he opened his mouth to say something,
Knock, knock.
"Your Majesty. The commander of the Empire's support forces has requested an audience. What shall we do?"
"...Let them in."
To have the audacity to request an audience in this situation; he had no idea what they intended to say.
The king, who had accepted the request half-intending to take his anger out on them, had to shut his mouth at the action of the person who entered, who knelt before him almost before paying formal respects.
"I have no excuse. I am sorry."
"..."
In truth, he knew that setting aside the quality of the troops, the knight before his eyes had done her best. That was why, even if he raged at the Empire, he must not get angry at her.
But his rage at losing his brother would not subside.
"What is your name?"
"I am Rien Rainer."
"I see, Sir Rainer. Why is it that you are alive?"
A ferociously sharp voice flowed out, as if ready to cut at any moment.
"My brother is dead. The general of this country, the king's brother, is dead, yet why are you standing before me alive?"
"...I have no excuse."
"I have no wish to hear such words! I asked you why you are alive!"
"I am sorry."
Rien answered silently with her head bowed.
In truth, she was a little weary. The lord she served had sided with the Demon King, and even the knight order under her command had fled. Naturally, the hostility of everyone was concentrated on her.
The suspicion-filled glances that clung to her every single movement were so blatant.
Neither the Emperor nor even her family could offset it. All of Reweche's resentment rained down on her, and the command of this discarded piece, sent to a place where she might even die, had become her burden.
'But as the commander, I have a duty to return the troops I brought back to the Empire as safely as possible.'
Tired as she was, she could not cast aside her duty, so she had to meet the king, if only to save those who remained.
With her head bowed, she respectfully extended her left hand as if offering it.
"I will give you my wrist."
"..."
"I know that such a thing is insufficient to quell Your Majesty's wrath. I would gladly offer my life as well, but I know that the aftermath could bring harm to Your Majesty, so..."
In fact, the Emperor had told her not to do this.
He had never said it directly, but during a brief conversation before Rien departed as the commander for support, he had made a remark that implied she should look after herself.
It was the Emperor's own precaution, having noticed Rien Rainer's weary psychological state.
[Blame me.]
[...What do you mean by that? How could I dare.]
[You are far too upright. Surely you intend to take responsibility for even those soldiers who are shamed to be called soldiers, simply because they are troops under your command.]
Even though she was nothing more than a temporary commander.
No, on the contrary, since they were closer to civilians, she would try to send them back alive however she could. If they ended up dying, she would feel guilty.
[In that sense, I shall tell you this personally.]
[...]