Chapter 173: He Cherished Him (4)
Given their combat specialty, they wouldn't be easily caught and could steadily inflict damage, and once enough damage accumulated, Stigma would have to head south to answer for his own karma.
In other words, it was entirely possible that Stigma would go down to the southern region.
Instead of returning to the Demon Realm, Deon had stopped at Paras Territory and was receiving the astonished hospitality of the waiting demon army. Having claimed the best room, he called over Dan, who had been inspecting the room's interior nearby.
"Find the surviving Barbar tribesmen and egg them on a bit."
"Excuse me?"
"The reason they ended up like that is Stigma."
"......Ah-ha."
Dan caught on fast. He had been absently brushing a window frame with his fingertips, and now he grinned.
"I'll provide them with appropriate support so they won't be easily captured until the second Hero arrives."
"The most important thing is not getting caught. You know that."
"That goes without saying."
About two weeks later, the Barbar tribe began to run wild in Primiro territory.
It was the result of Dan personally donning a robe, seeking them out, and inciting them.
[How long do you intend to live like this, hiding and holding your breath?]
[Even if you're going to die, wouldn't it be less unjust to take your revenge first?]
[Stigma views you as less than insects. He thinks you're not even worth his attention. Aren't you angry? The one who trampled your tribe is off focusing on other things, with you nowhere on his mind.]
Dan knew how to twist people around his tongue.
He prodded their emotions, incited them, and subtly suggested the actions they should take. He raised his voice to fan the flames of anger, then at certain moments lowered it to a serpent's whisper, drawing their attention all the more.
As his words continued, their wariness toward a stranger whose face they couldn't even see melted away in an instant. Other emotions pushed aside their caution, because the stranger was offering them a purpose greater than that.
[Take revenge on Stigma. Show him clearly the price for messing with the Barbar tribe. Let's leave a definitive precedent, one worthy of being carved into the Empire's history books.]
[I will support you. You have no money? You don't need any. I also harbor ill feelings toward him, so you simply running wild with all your might is more than enough.]
Ill feelings toward Stigma, his ass. It wasn't as if Stigma was a public enemy of the human world like his master, and how often did anyone harbor ill feelings toward a person they'd never even seen?
But there was no way for these people to know that, so it was fine.
Dan watched the blazing eyes of the Barbar tribesmen and smiled to himself.
In the end, swayed by Dan's incitement, they moved. Waging a guerrilla war of quick strikes and rapid retreats, they refused to be easily caught and ultimately accumulated significant damage in Primiro territory. Finally, just as Deon and Dan had intended, they forced Stigma to move.
It was no one's fault but his own karma, so to minimize the stain on his honor, he had to prioritize this above all else.
Gathering his sword, Stigma smiled.
"My junior's memory is quite good."
He had expected Deon would find some way to avoid a direct fight.
"To think he'd make use of vermin I'd even forgotten myself."
Wasn't this what they called recycling? A word not found in the dictionaries of the nobility.
No matter how swiftly he responded, a scratch on his honor was unavoidable. He should by all rights be in a foul mood, yet Stigma simply marveled at Deon Hart's wide range of application, at how he overlooked not even the smallest detail. In a cheerful mood, he gave his orders.
"Leave two-thirds of the knight order here."
His mood wasn't spoiled, but still, his junior had put a scratch on his honor, so it was only right to indulge in at least this much petty spite.
Vermin like the Barbar tribe could be thoroughly dealt with using just one-third of his knight order's forces. They were only ragtag survivors, not even a full tribe, so that would be more than enough.
Leaving behind enough troops to send support anywhere nearby if needed, Stigma took his remaining forces and marched south.
With this, the possibility that Stigma Primiro would move 'personally' had vanished.
* * *
The 'baby' was dying.
The child's complexion repeatedly turned deathly pale, then flushed red, the already feverish little body now burning even hotter. He had wailed loudly as if he would never stop, but now he kept his mouth quietly shut, and it was unmistakably clear that this was not a good sign.
'What do I do?'
Oel fretfully peered into the basket at the baby again and again.
The tiny thing was breathing in shallow, wheezing gasps, letting out faint whimpers in an exhausted, hoarse voice. The moment she let her guard down, it seemed he might stop breathing altogether, and she couldn't easily withdraw her anxious gaze.
'If only I could use magic.'
The Prohibition Order against magic was still strictly in effect. The moment she used it, His Majesty the Demon King would interrogate her. That would inevitably expose the existence of this human baby.
His Majesty would never let a human baby live. Rather, she would likely be punished as well, for concealing a human baby in the first place.
As impatience surged, Oel habitually called out a familiar name.
"......Derneban."
"Yes, Lady Oel."
"My 'blessing' is... dying. Do something about it."
"......."
A desperate gaze landed on him. Derneban met Oel's eyes and fell silent for a moment.
According to principle, he should kill it. If he simply blocked his eyes and ears now, kept his mouth shut, and turned a blind eye, the matter would quietly resolve itself.
But he had never once won against his superior.
"......Give him to me."
And this time was no different.
.......
"Uh... so......."
Milan, a knight directly under the 0th Legion Commander, pointed at the baby cradled in Derneban's arms with a baffled expression.
"You want us to... save it?"
"Yes."
Even Derneban, as he answered, looked none too confident.
But there was no other way. The only being in the Demon Castle who would know about a human baby and remain silent would be a 'human,' and the only being who knew humans well would also be a 'human.' But Lord Deon and his attendant 'Dan' were away in the human world and not present.
If the baby in his arms hadn't seemed to be on the very brink of death, he would have taken a little time to contact them.
"If you save him, I will certainly repay you."
"Well... let's have a look first, shall we?"
I don't know much, the smarter one should take a look. Scratching his head, Milan signaled to Cleter with his eyes.
Muttering, 'But I've never handled a baby before either,' Cleter obediently took the child, checked its condition, and let out a low groan.
'He's practically at death's door.'
Just one glance showed he was too exhausted to even cry. On top of that, he was skin and bones.
There was no need to laboriously search his mind and recall things he'd heard on the streets. The question came out immediately.
"This kid... have you been feeding him?"
"He wouldn't eat anything."
"That can't be...."
If he had wasted away to this degree, he would certainly have tried to eat anything.
"What on earth did you give him?"
"Meat, fruit, bread. I tried feeding him every kind of food that exists in the human world as I could obtain it."
"......And what was the result?"
"He vomited all of it."
No wonder.
It was a miracle he hadn't died. If he threw up everything, he must not have gotten any fluids either. Cleter swallowed a sigh and gestured to a nearby comrade to bring some barley tea.
"Ah, the stuff we drink during training?"
"Yes, bring it, but don't bring it cold, warm it up lukewarm. And you, bring a towel and a basin of warm water to bring down the child's fever."
He couldn't get formula right away, so he had to make do with a temporary measure.
Having given out all the orders he roughly needed to, Cleter turned his head. His eyes met those of the wolf-eared demon who had been watching the situation all along.
That emotionless gaze bothered him a bit, but still, there were things he needed to say.
"Babies drink breast milk or formula. Feeding them anything else is disastrous."
"Is that so."
A dry voice returned, plainly betraying a lack of interest. Cleter's eyes narrowed.
It seemed this demon had no interest in the baby itself....
"Can you save him?"
Given that his interest was solely in 'life and death,' it seemed someone whom he could not overcome—whether emotionally or by rank—wanted the baby to live.
Did that person take an interest in a baby yet not know what it ate?
'Well, he is a demon.'
There were humans who, drunk on an animal's cuteness, brought it home on a whim without knowing the first thing about how to raise it—so why would demons be any different? He must have simply picked it up out of curiosity.
......Surely they hadn't kidnapped it?
'Nah, no way.'
It was a time of many orphans. The streets were full of children who had lost their parents; he must have picked up one of them.
Cleter hurriedly shook off his stray thoughts and spoke.
"......His condition is so poor I can't make any promises, but I'll do my best."
"I'll say it again. If you save him, I will certainly repay you."
"Forget repayment. Just take good care of our captain."
"That's right. Maybe it's because he's been through so much, but our captain's eyes have been looking pretty dead lately."
"You guys haven't been giving him a hard time because he's new here, have you?"
"I knew it, those wicked demons...!"
And here was the adjutant to an officer of this very den of 'wicked demons,' listening to every word.
As people from all sides chimed in one by one and then trembled with indignation amongst themselves, Cleter pressed a hand to his forehead and shook his head. Then he shifted just his eyes to glance at the demon who had brought the baby.
He had been watching and listening to this entire conversation from the very beginning, yet he showed no sign of being provoked. He simply blinked once and turned his head away as if disinterested. At a quick glance, it seemed like he was letting all the words wash right over him.
'But since he spoke of repayment with such a serious attitude, he's certain to have remembered it.'
Captain, take good care of the 0th Legion Commander.
So even if it wasn't quite faithful service, he would at least help him once in a crucial moment.
Rather than worry about whether the other party was ignoring them or letting their words go in one ear and out the other, Cleter focused on tending to the baby.
* * *
Deon Hart did not return to the Demon Realm.
Rather than receiving reports on paper from the Demon Realm, painting a picture in his head, and issuing commands, he chose to remain in the human world with Dan, see things with his own eyes, and directly lead the demon army.
The former method involved too many procedures and lacked accuracy, and more than anything, when it came to the Emperor at least, he wanted to kill him with his own hands.
'Though in truth, Dan just followed me on his own whim.'
Anyway.
Once they broke through Millere Territory, the capital would be just around the corner. There were various territories wedged in between, plus the territory where the current head of House Hart was staying, but they were all entirely unremarkable territories, and his memories of having personally witnessed the incompetence of that collateral branch head who became family head were still vivid, so he had no concerns.
In short, Millere Territory was the last bastion on the path to the capital.
'......I guess that's why.'
The resistance was incredibly fierce.
Red eyes swept over the sluggish advance. They hadn't even arrived at the castle walls yet, but the troops were already exhausted.
There hadn't even been any proper battle.
'They keep popping out to attack, then retreating before we can counterattack.'
If it had been a head-on fight, they wouldn't have been so tired. As if their sole aim was to delay the advance by any means, the enemy was desperately waging a guerrilla war.
A battle that utilized the terrain of the forest to its fullest extent.
They were probably still hiding somewhere in those woods right now, waiting for the right timing. The ominous thought that by the time they reached the castle walls they would be in a state unfit for a proper fight kept rearing its head.
'Because physical stamina and mental fortitude are separate things.'
The body was one thing, but in this situation, their minds must have been heavily eroded. Even considering the constraints of the human world, the demons' physical stamina was on the better end, but at this rate, they couldn't even make proper use of that good stamina.
Deon stood with his arms crossed, flicking an unlit cigarette in his mouth, glaring irritably at the forest. Then he spat out an order.
"Pull back beyond the forest."
"Excuse me?"
"Be mindful of ambushes from the rear."
They had come all this way, enduring losses to get here, and now they were being told to retreat with nothing to show for it.
There was no guarantee that the enemy wouldn't launch a surprise attack during the retreat, either. Wasn't the command to 'be mindful of ambushes from the rear' included in the very order to pull back?
It was the overall commander's order, so the right thing to do was obey....
The field officers hesitated, worried about the troops' morale dropping. Immediately, Deon reacted sharply.
"It seems my words don't sound like words to you. You should know what happens to those who disobey a superior's orders in war."
"No, sir!"
"Turn around! Pull back beyond the forest!"