Chapter 7: The 0th Legion Commander, Deon Hart (5)
Chapter 7: The 0th Legion Commander, Deon Hart (5)
Dressed in neat black clothes, I strode without hesitation toward the Legion Commanders' private dining hall.
Every time I passed through the corridor, the soldiers who spotted me flinched, and if our eyes met, they bowed deeply as if they'd seen a monster that turned you to stone.
At first it was burdensome and terrifying, but now it was almost welcome. Because you bastards are scary as hell yourselves. Once before, I accidentally came face-to-face with one of them, and that time I seriously thought I was going to turn to stone. Well, not you guys — me.
Ignoring the pouring gazes, I came to a halt in front of a massive door. At that, the ones guarding the door trembled and snapped into rigid posture.
"H-Have you come to dine?"
"Yes, I have."
"Th-Th-Then I shall open the door."
Without even the common 'creeeak', the great door opened smoothly.
The moment I stepped inside, silence descended upon the previously bustling dining hall. Feeling the gazes converging on me all at once, I screamed internally.
This was exactly why I didn't want to come to the dining hall!
The owners of those gazes were all 'Legion Commanders'. The very Legion Commanders whose individual martial prowess alone could dictate the atmosphere of an entire battlefield!
"......."
"......."
Wh-What do I do?
Stay calm, stay calm, a-a-a-and first, just get the food.
Desperately pretending nothing was wrong, I stepped forward. With every step I took, the persistent gazes clung to me, but I feigned ignorance and fixed my eyes only on the cooks.
For some reason, the cooks' movements seemed to have gotten faster.
'Yeah, please hurry if you can.'
Because right now, just standing here receiving the Legion Commanders' undivided attention was nothing short of torture.
"Th-The food is ready. P-P-Please, enjoy... enjoy your meal."
Clatter, clatter.
I looked down at the violently trembling tray, then lifted my gaze to the cook.
You must be pretty nervous too, huh. Well, I suppose... with this many Legion Commanders gathered in one place, who wouldn't be nervous?
Out of sympathy and a sense of kinship, I smiled at him to convey 'hang in there' — and the clattering only grew louder.
Afraid he was going to drop it at this rate, I reached out quickly to take it... oh, damn it.
Swish!
......I raised my hand too fast.
I'd thought that no matter what, I'd be less nervous than the cook in front of me, but it seemed I was just as tense as he was.
My hand, raised too quickly and too high, smacked the tray beautifully, and the tray, sent flying skyward by my hand, writhed in the air, scattering food everywhere before clattering noisily onto the floor.
"......."
"......."
A chillier silence than before descended.
Internally, I let out a short scream and dragged a hand down my face.
Damn it, I'm screwed.
* * *
Wicked. Truly wicked.
At that moment, it was the thought that simultaneously surfaced in the minds of every single being present in this dining hall.
Demon Arut.
The one who killed the Last Hero, the man personally brought by the Demon King, the 0th Legion Commander of the Demon King's army, known to possess martial might so great that even the Demon King could not handle him carelessly.
As any Legion Commander in this room would attest, he was a terrifying individual.
His usual mild-mannered appearance? It would be a grave mistake to let that reassure you. Because he simply had a different threshold for anger than everyone else.
Just look at this. In stark contrast to how, not long ago, he spared the person responsible for the carnivorous plant that had attacked him because it wasn't properly tended — this time, for the mere 'crime' of trembling, hadn't he batted away the tray the cook presented?
'Still, this is excessive even for him....'
The 1st Legion Commander, Jeikar, quietly tilted his knife as he observed the scene unfolding before his eyes.
......Come to think of it, he had set the garden on fire, hadn't he? If it got to the point of arson, he must have been considerably angry.
His mind, which had been constructing various hypotheses, abruptly stopped at some point, as if it had found the most fitting one.
'What if, at that time, it wasn't forgiveness?'
What if he had merely held back at the level of burning the garden because reducing the Demon Castle's manpower was bothersome?
What if the rage from that incident still lingered?
'The cook simply became a pitiful casualty, then.'
He had been the unlucky target of vented anger.
Belatedly, Demon's black attire caught his eye. That was probably an unspoken warning: 'I'm not in a good mood today, so don't touch me.'
Jeikar slowly cut his meat and put it in his mouth, his eyes still fixed on them.
He felt sorry for the cook, but pity aside, he had no intention of covering for him. Risking his life to confront the 0th Legion Commander just to save one cook was a massive loss.
He had no desire to die a pointless death, not an honorable one on the battlefield but at the hands of his own side, so Jeikar simply remained silent.
The other Legion Commanders probably felt the same. That was why everyone was keeping quiet.
Demon's face had been rigid for a while now. His blood-red eyes, sunken and subdued, were fixed on the cook.
He was clearly angry. If the cook didn't prostrate himself and beg right this instant....
"S-Sor-Sorry, I'm so sorry!!"
As expected of a cook who had been dealing with the Legion Commanders, I suppose. Quick on the uptake.
Jeikar speared some salad with his fork and stole a glance at Demon's expression. The sunken look in his eyes was wavering.
"He seems to be deliberating."
The 3rd Legion Commander, Asild, who was sitting nearby, murmured quietly. Jeikar nodded silently in agreement and continued to watch the situation unfold in silence.
What would he do?
He probably wouldn't kill him. The Demon he usually knew was extremely reluctant to take anyone's life.
Would he set another fire? Or would he simply cripple him, leave him half-dead?
Because Demon was such an unfathomable existence, Jeikar's gaze clung to him persistently, as if determined not to miss a single one of his actions.
* * *
Deon Hart, this life was doomed. That single short sentence just floated around and around in my head.
My mind having gone completely blank, I stared vacantly at the cook trembling in front of me.
The cook's complexion was even paler than mine.
Right. He must be upset and angry that the food he put effort into became topping for the floor. But the other party was a Legion Commander, so he couldn't even show his anger.... He seemed to be trying to swallow his resentment somehow. I should apologize. Otherwise, I never knew when or where I might get stabbed in the back.
So I was about to apologize, when the cook suddenly threw himself flat on the ground.
"S-Sor-Sorry, I'm so sorry!!"
"!?"
What kind of situation was this now?
The sudden frontal assault momentarily rattled me. My eyes probably shook violently.
I quickly reined in my agitation and looked down at the cook with a dumbfounded expression.
"......First, please get up."
"I'm sorry! Please, have mercy!"
No, anyone could see this situation was my fault. Why on earth was he acting like this?
"There's no need for mercy. Please get up."
"Eek!"
I'd spoken gently, telling him it wasn't his fault, but the reaction was not what I expected.
He only pressed himself flatter against the floor... how was I supposed to handle this?
"As expected of Demon...."
"Living up to the name...."
On top of that, everyone was muttering something.
Did they think I was presumptuous for a human? Suppressing my trembling heart, I turned around, but everyone shut their mouths and averted their eyes. Clearly, they had been talking about me.
My image right now must be completely in the gutter.
Fine. The image was already ruined anyway. Whether it got worse or recovered, it was all the same at this point.
Thinking that, my heart felt a whole lot lighter.
With an expression of enlightenment, I let out a light sigh and looked again at the cook, still prostrate on the floor.
"Rather than this, I think it would be better if you went and remade the food."
I was fine, but the other Legion Commanders might get angry. I'd heard that every single Legion Commander had some kind of twisted side to them.
Especially that they had no mercy for their subordinates....
"Y-Yes, yes! I'll remake it right away!"
As if he had never been prostrate at all, the cook sprang to his feet and dashed toward the kitchen.
Leaning against the wall, I closed my eyes and waited for the meal to come out again.
Why did I close my eyes? Because if I didn't, I felt like tears were going to spill out.
Ah, life....
The food came out faster than I expected. And he handed it over quickly too.
Having delivered the dish rapidly and swiftly, the cook bent his waist at a perfect right angle, and then dashed off and vanished into the kitchen.
His movements were so fast that if not for the food in my hands, I might have mistaken it for a passing gust of wind.
Anyway, after many twists and turns, I finally received the food and started walking.
The dining hall was so vast and had so many seats that it was hard to believe it existed solely to serve meals to just thirteen Legion Commanders.
A full thirteen rectangular tables, each capable of seating twenty people!
But with a little thought, it was entirely understandable.
The Legion Commanders each had extremely strong personalities. As a result, clashes between them were not uncommon.
I had heard from the Demon King that back when they'd placed just one of those twenty-person tables in the dining hall, two Legion Commanders who had been fighting got into it and trashed the dining hall, saying they refused to sit at the same table as that bastard.
So after that, to make sure no major problems arose even if every single Legion Commander was fighting each other, they prepared twenty-person tables equal to the number of Legion Commanders....
'Which means no one will come near me.'
There were plenty of seats. Why would anyone deliberately come sit next to me?
I had only come here because I could make that guarantee. Otherwise, no matter how hard they pushed me from behind, I'd have sprawled on the floor and told them to just kill me instead.
Anyway, I quietly sat down at the very last table at the end. A spot where, unless someone had specific business with me, their eyes wouldn't even reach, nor their footsteps wander.
Now, I could finally eat in peace. The moment I lifted my fork....
"May I sit here?"
"......?!"
A demon approached.
Dark skin, and long pointed ears that proved he wasn't human. Even the attitude of casually using informal speech in a situation where everyone addressed me with honorifics.
The moment I confirmed all these things, I clamped my mouth shut and swallowed the sigh that was about to burst out.
The power broker among all the Legion Commanders. Unlike me, who was nothing more than a scarecrow, a figure with genuine authority who could officially act as the Demon King's proxy.
The 1st Legion Commander, Jeikar, was standing there holding a tray with his dishes, asking my permission to take the seat next to me. What's more, glancing at his plate, it seemed he had come over mid-meal, as the food was only about half finished.
He could have just finished eating where he was sitting. Why go out of his way?
I wanted to refuse, but I had no real justification, so I laboriously lifted my stiffly frozen lips into a semblance of a smile and nodded.
"It's an unoccupied seat. Surely you don't need to ask permission."
As for my answer, well, that should be harmless enough.
"Indeed, you're right."
He chuckled, put down his tray, scraped the chair back, and sat down.
I'd suspected it, dreaded it, but he really did sit down. What business on earth did he have with me?
What little appetite I had vanished completely. I was picking at my salad, desperately suppressing the sighs that kept threatening to escape, when a voice — unfamiliar, yet one I'd definitely heard once before — suddenly dropped from above my head.
"May I sit as well?"
I nearly dropped my fork. Speaking from behind me — where had he sold his manners?
I felt my startled heart slowly calming down, morphing into outright anger, and then I identified the speaker and froze on the spot.
Because a demon with horns at his temples and an utterly inhuman, impossible level of musculature was looking at me with an unreadable expression.
The 3rd Legion Commander, Asild. Just like Jeikar, he was holding a tray with half-eaten food, apparently having moved mid-meal, and he met my eyes as if demanding an answer.
In this situation, there was only one answer I could give.
"......Yes, of course."
I couldn't tell the 1st Legion Commander he was free to sit or not, and then refuse the 3rd Legion Commander.
The seat across from me was already taken by Jeikar, so Asild naturally sat down beside me.
Suddenly blockaded at the front and the side, I couldn't find anywhere to rest my eyes. To hide my trembling eyes, I kept my head bowed and focused solely on the food. Though, of course, nothing was going down, so all I did was poke at it with my fork.
'The 3rd Legion Commander, Asild... he was the Demon King's personal guard, wasn't he?'
I dug up the information I had memorized for survival when I first came here from a corner of my mind.
The 3rd Legion was a legion where the commander and every legionnaire used greatswords, annihilating enemies with overwhelming power. Naturally, when the Demon King needed a powerful army, the 3rd Legion was the one he primarily used.
He could mobilize the 1st Legion, but the 1st Legion's mere movement carried such heavy significance that there were very few instances where it was actually deployed.
Meaning there was a reason Jeikar was the one who acted as the Demon King's proxy.
"......."
"......."
Ah, damn. Did I zone out thinking about other things for too long?
The awkward silence suddenly prickled against my skin, and I slightly raised my head.
I'd intended to check their expressions, to see if they were displeased or angry, but unfortunately, my eyes met Jeikar's, who had been looking this way.
I couldn't bring myself to avert my gaze and was agonizing over how to react, when he, seemingly just as awkward, briefly looked down at his plate before lifting his head straight up again and slowly opening his mouth.