Chapter 28: A New Hero (3)
Chapter 28: A New Hero (3)
Ben had only examined what was in my glass, and in the chaos that erupted the moment poison was confirmed, no one had gotten around to checking the bottle. So there was still a sliver of hope.
My personal take? It probably wasn't poisoned.
When I'd first entered the barracks, Ed had been drinking.
Which meant his glass hadn't been poisoned up until that point. In other words, the intruder had slipped poison into both our cups while Ed and I were talking.
Stealth good enough to evade even Ed's detection? Now that I thought about it again, that was genuinely dangerous, wasn't it?
......Anyway.
'If I remember right, there was only one moment when the table was out of both my sight and Ed's at the same time.'
The moment that sound rang out.
We'd both reflexively turned our heads toward the noise at the same time.
But that had been a very brief moment, and it was absurdly insufficient time for an assassin to approach and administer poison directly.
So how had they done it?
'They must have thrown it in.'
The assassin possessed skills impressive enough to evade Ed's sensory detection. In other words, they certainly had the skill to "throw" poison in.
But even so, throwing it into a bottle with a narrow neck would be both time-consuming and risky.
The assassin seemed strongly inclined to avoid unnecessary gambles, so they probably hadn't attempted to risk poisoning the bottle.
......That was my reasoning, anyway.
'Well then, shall we confirm it?'
I casually picked up the bottle.
My conscience pricked at me a little, drinking alone when the owner wasn't here, but hadn't he been about to offer it to me anyway?
With that shameless thought, I resolutely sniffed it.
Just as I thought. Nothing.
A smile crept onto my face.
'It seems they prepared what could be called an odorless, colorless drug.'
Solid-state drugs, convenient for carrying, require specific ingredients to maintain their shape — whether they're made by refining liquid or compressing powder.
Normally, even those are said to be odorless and colorless, but well.
'Someone who's been exposed to a lot of drugs, or someone with an absurdly keen sense of smell, would notice.'
That's what you could call the distinctive scent of drugs.
Anyway, this alcohol didn't carry even the faintest trace of that characteristic medicinal odor. Which meant.......
I grinned.
'This alcohol is now mine.'
I didn't have a glass, but that wasn't a problem.
Lest someone come and interrupt, I slightly lowered the cloth covering my lower face and tipped the bottle back without hesitation.
"He is dangerous."
"Hmm......."
The assassin spoke with fervent conviction.
Cruel listened in silence, his expression unchanging.
Contrary to his blank face, his fingers were tapping against the desk, betraying his complicated inner thoughts.
After a long silence, having heard the full report, he slowly parted his lips.
"Understood. You may leave."
"Yes."
The assassin departed, and Cruel, lost in thought, wore an expression that was far from pleasant. He had good reason.
In the end, didn't this mean the 0th Legion Commander's skills surpassed even that assassin's, at a bare minimum?
The assassin he'd sent was by no means a negligible asset.
By the nature of the profession, he might be weak in direct combat, but his stealth and assassination skills were such that even Cruel himself had to stay on edge.
'Troublesome.'
The 0th Legion Commander existed, and his prowess was no lie. What could be more troublesome than this?
He slowly closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair.
'The judgment.......'
had already been made. He just felt a touch of regret, that was all.
Frowning slightly, he had been tilting his head back when he opened his eyes and slowly straightened up.
Sensing the shift in atmosphere, his subordinate cautiously asked for his decision.
"What will you do?"
"......The order given to me is 'to protect the Empire's territory.'"
With that, Cruel had joined the faltering front lines, and as a result, he hadn't merely defended the territory — he'd pushed all the way into the Demon Realm's domain.
The higher-ups seemed pleased, but unless the order was something like "expand the territory into the Demon Realm," there was no need to force a confrontation.
"I had intended to expand as much as possible while we could, in preparation for when the demon-race attacks again later. But it can't be helped."
That "while we could" was over.
Greed invites disaster. Cruel was more coldly rational than anyone, far too much so to be swayed by greed.
If our side's morale was high, we might have been able to put up a fight somehow, but regrettably, their morale was at its peak while ours was at rock bottom.
"What is the 0th Legion Commander, anyway?"
If only his combat ability were the problem, he would have had less to agonize over.
Whether it was simply their bad luck, the 0th Legion Commander was a being whose very existence could dictate morale.
In this state, in this atmosphere, if they clashed with those forces now, a hundred times out of a hundred, they would be utterly crushed.
It wasn't that the Empire had no one who could overturn this situation, but that person wasn't here right now, so Cruel's options were extremely limited.
"To defeat the Demon King's army with the 0th Legion Commander present, we need 'that bastard.'"
"Ah......."
"But he isn't here at the moment. A request for reinforcements would be too slow, too."
Another Hero of the Empire.
Recalling someone who had become a Hero even before himself, Cruel closed his mouth for a moment, then slowly spat out his words.
"In the current situation, halting combat is the optimal course. That's the only way to prevent the 0th Legion Commander from joining the fray. But we can't openly negotiate a truce with the demon-race, and there's no way they'd just sit back and watch after finally seizing a chance to counterattack......."
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
His index finger drummed against the desk.
This, too, was the hesitation that came with the title of "Hero."
A title gained because he had to protect something, yet it often seemed to trip him up instead. Though he grimaced at the thought, in the end, he voiced the plan forming in his head.
"We will withdraw of our own accord."
"Excuse me?"
"However, we kill anyone who pursues us. Without exception. We have to kill them with a certainty beyond anything we've shown so far. We must never appear to be retreating under pressure."
They would pull back slowly, without showing weakness.
They had to withdraw precisely to the original border, the human world, and demonstrate that they had no intention of fighting as long as the human world wasn't invaded first.
"Wouldn't withdrawing now make our intentions too obvious? The demon-race will notice."
"That's why I said it. Kill the pursuers 'with certainty.'"
"......."
"If they charge at us while we're withdrawing and get utterly destroyed, they'll understand."
Ah, they aren't retreating because they heard about the 0th Legion Commander.
They aren't being pushed back, and they aren't withdrawing hastily because something went wrong.
"It's simply that this is worthless land where not a single ray of sunlight falls. There's no meaning in raising a sword for this dirt."
"......."
"I have to convey that sentiment."
They couldn't form an official agreement, but an implicit one was entirely possible.
It was something he shouldn't do as a Hero of the Empire, but Cruel wasn't one to be hung up on such things.
Not ruining his debut as a Hero mattered more than that.
"Of course, this is only possible if the 0th Legion Commander doesn't run rampant during the process, but he came as reinforcements because the demon army was being pushed back, so it should be fine. When his own forces are returning to their positions without him having to step forward, there's no reason for him to get personally involved."
"Come to think of it...... I've heard it's very rare for the 0th Legion Commander to directly enter combat."
"Yes."
The higher-ups only look at results. They don't scrutinize what process led to those results — just the results themselves.
In that sense, if the forces under Cruel's command were pushed back by the Demon King's army and allowed another invasion of the human world, the higher-ups would certainly begin to question his qualifications as a Hero again.
'That would be problematic.'
What had he come all this way for?
Quietly chewing his lip, Cruel opened his mouth to issue orders.
But the words never came out.
"C-Commander!"
Because of an uninvited guest who swept aside the tent flap and rushed in.
Taking in the pallid face, rough breathing, and dirt-covered attire, Cruel rose wordlessly from his seat.
Waiting for the soldier to catch his breath and make his report, he put on the gauntlets he'd briefly removed and strapped his sword to his waist.
There was no reprimand for barging in unannounced.
It was Cruel himself who had ordered that anyone could enter immediately if the matter was urgent or important, for the sake of effective and swift communication.
So instead of reproaching him, Cruel quietly prepared for battle and waited for the next words —
"The Demon King's army is advancing! The vanguard is the 0th Legion Commander......."
Clank.
Before the soldier even finished his report, Cruel grabbed his helmet and strode outside.
The plan had gone awry.
The situation was devastating.
Before he could even fully survey the battlefield, Cruel's eyes, having already grasped the state of things, grew cold inside his helmet.
There was no need to look closely.
The acrid stench of blood stinging his nostrils, even though the battle had barely begun. The front line being pushed back helplessly. And on top of that, the harrowing screams reaching his ears —
— and laughter.
Whose screams, and whose laughter?
"......Ha."
A hollow laugh escaped him.
Cruel gripped his sword and glared out at the battlefield.
At the very least, among the soldiers under his command, there wasn't a single madman who laughed while killing the enemy.
Right. It was the demon-race. As if venting all their pent-up fury, they were merrily laughing while carrying out a slaughter.
'The momentum has completely swung to their side.'
The tide had turned toward them.
War is heavily influenced by morale.
Even in a disadvantageous war, if morale is high, soldiers can cut down enemies like madmen, as if they'd taken some kind of drug. And no matter how favorable a war, there are countless cases of armies struggling when morale is at rock bottom.
So this battle right now was disadvantageous for the Empire.
'No.'
Strength entered his clenched fist.
This couldn't go on. How could he have come so far, only to be pushed back this futilely?
He had to do something.
— How?
'To resolve this situation.......'
With all his senses sharpened to a razor's edge, Cruel looked toward one particular spot.
Amidst the cacophony of the battlefield, the only place that was utterly silent, as if the space itself had been severed from the rest.
There, a single demon stood.
"Heuhat, ahahahahat!!"
A dagger spun freely in their hand.
Flipping from a standard grip to a reverse grip as if performing a trick, sometimes even rolling across the back of the hand — the dagger ensnared anyone momentarily entranced by the display, claiming yet another victim.
How many had fallen victim by now?
Blood spurted from the spot where the dagger was pulled free. The fading groans of comrades who could no longer even manage a scream reached those nearby with stark clarity.
The black demon before their eyes never killed an opponent easily.
Whether severing tendons, slicing off hands, or piercing eyes to completely shut down any chance of counterattack, they would butcher the helpless victim while laughing as if it were the most enjoyable thing in the world.
Even if they accidentally killed someone outright, they'd tear the corpse to shreds, revealing their brutality without the slightest restraint.
"A d-demon......."
A trembling voice leaked out from somewhere like a groan.
The speaker probably hadn't even realized they'd said it aloud.
A faint-hearted sound on the battlefield is never good, even for morale's sake. And yet, no one could rebuke him.
Even the soldier standing right there was the same.
The emotions he'd barely managed to suppress were thrashing inside him, vehemently agreeing with those words.
'Yeah. A demon.'
If you couldn't call that thing a demon, then who the hell could you call one?
His hands trembled violently. His legs were rooted to the ground, refusing to move.
The back of the figure butchering his opponents was utterly defenseless, but the soldier couldn't bring himself to aim his weapon carelessly.
Aiming itself was easy.
He just had to raise his weapon and point it at that unguarded back.
But if he did that.
'I'd end up just like that.'
He didn't want that. He was terrified.
The soldier had no confidence that he could handle the consequences of taking action.
He wanted to run, but he couldn't do that either.
His instincts told him that the moment he turned his back, the demon before him would be in pursuit.
Trapped in a situation where he could neither charge nor flee, the soldier finally squeezed his eyes shut. His lips, drained of color, quivered faintly.
'Someone, please.'
— Save me.
The briefest of cries surged up from the depths of his lungs, only to be crushed and swallowed down in his throat.
That was when it happened.
Clang!!
"......Huh?"
A powerful gust of wind blew alongside the sound of something shattering.
He closed his eyes against the sudden cloud of dust, and when he opened them, armor he'd once seen from afar filled his vision.
At the same time, the soldier let his weapon arm drop limply.
"Ah, aah......."
He was saved.
Relief tenderly patted his rigid, frozen body.
Forcing strength into legs that felt like they'd buckle any second, he stood and fixed his gaze clearly upon the figure before him.
The Empire's new Hero. The star of the battlefield. The rational commander.
Cruel.
He had arrived.