Don't Do This (2)

"We hit the dragon first."

"…You're saying we abandon the Demon Knight?"

"Look at reality. Sir Knight is inside the castle."

Whether he had managed to hide himself somehow—Deathbringer forced the words out with his reason chilled as cold as he could make it, stripping every emotion away.

"And the castle is packed with Bipurit and every soldier under his command. You think busting through all that to find Sir Knight is going to be easy? And even if we did find him—what if the demon's already eaten him by then?"

The effort paid off, at least to a degree. The argument for abandoning someone came out smooth and easy.

"You know full well how strong Sir Knight is. Just facing him alone would be rough enough—we can't take on a pack of demon worshipers on top of that."

"The Demon Knight would not fall so easily to a demon. Someone like him may well be resisting even now, holding on through sheer force of will."

"For fuck's sake—you think I haven't thought of that?"

It came out smooth, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but the head that said it was already fraying at the edges. The brain that had only just cooled down was heating up all over again.

"Look at the situation we're in. We can't bet our lives on an uncertainty when there's another option on the table. Like you said yourself—this is the middle of enemy territory!"

Deathbringer scrubbed a dry hand over his face. His raised voice dropped again, thin and drained, as he tried once more to persuade her.

"Whether Sir Knight has fallen to the demon or not, the infiltration plan already failed. But that doesn't mean you're the type to leave him behind and fall back either."

Too many negative variables stacked against going after the Demon Knight. And with the Hero herself as the stake on the table—

"Look at reality straight. We failed. The two of us alone can't pull the Demon Knight out of there."

Which meant they had to wait for the main force. Only by joining with the troops the Archmage would bring could they open a path to rescue him.

"…Then when you say we should target the dragon—it's to prepare for when the main force arrives."

"Finally, we're speaking the same language."

The one small mercy was that even in a crisis, the blockhead wasn't completely impossible to talk to. He wasn't about to admit it out loud, but once you actually got the Inquisitor to accept something, conversation after that was surprisingly easy.

"Exactly. That's why we hit it."

The dragon and the Demon Knight had one thing in common. Left alone, either one could inflict catastrophic damage on the main force.

"Kill the dragon and we cut the damage in half. If the Demon Knight beats the demon, we cut it down to nothing."

And unlike the Demon Knight, buried somewhere hard to reach, the dragon was supposedly isolated on the outskirts of the city. According to the guide and informant they'd brought along, isolation hadn't been enough—they'd even restrained the thing under the excuse of stopping a rampage. There would be guards, of course, but it still had to be better than the castle. If it was already bound, they might even kill it without much trouble.

That was a gamble worth taking.

"Understood."

"Good. Then let's review the route. You've got one mapped out?"

"Mapped and ready. All that's left is the call."

Deathbringer took the product of the request he'd made earlier. Four locals putting their heads together had marked the map with the dragon's expected location and several paths leading there.

"Hey. Thief."

"…There are five thieves here, you know."

He shot the thickheaded Inquisitor a look of pure irritation. The irritation vanished in the very next breath.

"Will he… truly be all right?"

Would he, really? In a castle that had raised its torches and then produced not a single explosion, not a single disturbance that might signal something had gone wrong—was it even right to hope for that knight's safety?

"…He's Sir Knight."

Both of them turned their eyes from the truth sitting plain in front of them. Twenty and twenty-one. They were far too young to sit in conference and put into words the fall of someone they looked up to.

I checked the window that had just appeared.

Rage. "All status abnormalities nullified" was extremely attractive—but that last line of the description snagged on me a little. The more you performed certain actions, the more the Madness Gauge filled? What exactly counted as those "certain actions," and what happened when the gauge maxed out?

More than anything, I had no idea why this status had shown up out of nowhere. If getting a little angry was enough to generate something like this, shouldn't "Despair" or "Frustration" have popped up ages ago?

I also still didn't understand why mana was pouring out of me in streams when I hadn't asked for any of it. The fact that it was starting from the arm that was supposed to have a demon sealed in it only made the whole thing weirder.

"Give them. To me."

Reasons or not, I could still make use of it.

"Th-that is…"

I checked the Madness Gauge still sitting at effectively zero, then looked over the people standing there with their mouths working soundlessly, questions they couldn't quite voice.

By the time I broke into a wide smile, the mana in my right arm was roaring even hotter, matching my intent. The current was more violent than usual.

"You don't want to?"

Still like that, I walked toward Poneglza, the one standing in the center of the three. She was about a handspan shorter than me, so once I closed to within thirty centimeters I had to tip my head down a little to meet her eyes. Even then, the fact that she kept her gaze locked rigidly forward meant they didn't quite line up—but anyway.

"Not going to answer?"

For a second I wondered whether I was allowed to act this high-handed. Then I looked at the children trembling in place and steeled myself. Civilians being stuck in a slaughterhouse like this was already repulsive enough—how was I supposed to leave kids here? I'd push like a tyrant only as far as getting the children moved somewhere else.

"If Lady Gretchen desires it, what could possibly stand in the way? Please—select whatever you wish and take it."

Poneglza delivered her answer with composure. It seemed to have gotten through, more or less. Though at this rate I half expected someone to decide a Great Demon was more trouble than it was worth and just put a blade in me.

"Then just the children."

"The children. Understood."

"Move them. I don't care for open spaces."

"The underground prison within the castle is empty. We will distribute them there and hold them."

Tsk. Worldbuilding-wise, prison facilities in a place like this were unlikely to be pleasant. Sticking kids in one of those sat wrong on my conscience. But the outside—or anywhere else—carried too high a risk of them getting caught in whatever blew up next. For safety, that was probably the better option.

"You're rather good with words."

I deliberately used the right arm, mana still rolling off it in waves, to brush Poneglza's long hair back over her shoulder.

"…It is an honor."

Only then did she meet my eyes. Looking properly into those black irises for the first time, even an amateur could read the ambition writhing there, and the boldness that fed it.

"And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who are you, again?"

At that point I asked for her name a second time. For an ambitious person, few things deliver a thrill quite like having their name remembered favorably by someone above them.

"Focalor, O Wrath."

"Focalor."

And asking again when you already know the name is usually a transparent way of saying I like what I see, so I'll remember you.

As expected, Poneglza—no, Focalor's—gaze shifted. The naked hunger in it was enough to put a chill in my chest. What was she after—no, obvious enough. Power and authority, and if you stretched it a little further, something like immortality. That was all it ever was.

And none of that was my business. The moment Focalor had traded her homeland and her people's lives for ambition—the moment she had built this factory of slaughter—her kind of ambition had become a category I could not understand.

I had no right to say it, but she would pay the price. The same way every butcher in Earth's history eventually had.

"Lady Gretchen—I can guide you to something you might take great pleasure in."

Meanwhile, the ones who couldn't read my thoughts were shifting restlessly for an entirely different reason. Naberius and Bifrons, who held the same rank as Focalor, were especially bad about it. Catching a Great Demon's eye seemed to matter more to them than fear.

"What of a Hero hunt? The Hero is isolated within the city. Those so-called companions of hers are nothing but worthless insects."

Naberius only fidgeted and kept her mouth shut. Bifrons, on the other hand, came out rather bold. Offering me a Hero hunt as entertainment—she must have wanted my attention badly.

"You know."

I confirmed the children were being led away by the jailers, then moved my tongue.

"Did you just ask me a question?"

Asking after someone's inclination is still a question. The color drained from Bifrons's face as she realized ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her mistake.

"Th-that is…"

"Bifrons is a knight chosen by Greed. I beg you—withdraw your anger."

But before I could snap Bifrons's neck, Naberius got there first. A new scrap of information came free as a bonus.

"Chosen by Greed?"

I looked down at Bifrons with a seriously? expression and ran the calculation fast. The Seven Deadly Sins angle was something I'd already been half-sure about, so I set that aside. "Chosen by Greed," though—

Good. So the 72 Demon Knights might be born through selection by a Great Demon. Or there was a power structure among the 72 themselves. Nothing I could use immediately, but information never hurt.

"That is correct."

"I see… So that's how it is…"

I muttered it under my breath as I closed slowly on Bifrons. My steps began to circle her bowed head, one by one—an extra little flourish.

"But isn't that a little strange? Telling Wrath to put away its anger."

I paced around her, turning over hard whether to take her head or not. Sure, killing her would weaken their forces right now—but given my position, thinking through the aftermath was only natural. Put bluntly: if I killed Bifrons, the odds of everyone going "well, it couldn't be helped" were a lot lower than the odds of "our ally has gone mad—kill her!"

"I beg your mercy."

"A demon, begging for mercy."

Of course, with status nullification I could shrug off a mana overload and use skills freely. But the Madness Gauge made me hesitate to lean on that. With the experience of hundreds of fantasy works under my belt, the highest-probability trigger for gauge gain was combat. And given the flavor of the word "madness," a full gauge would almost certainly lead to a rampage or berserk state. I also didn't trust this game to slap on nothing more than the usual attack / crit rate / crit damage buffs when that happened.

Moving carelessly was still too risky.

"Lady Gretchen—the children have all been relocated."

Focalor cut in then. Perfect timing for Bifrons. Not so much for me.

"Have they?"

Hah. Well—I'd at least bought the kids' lives, so maybe I let this slide for now. I'd only grabbed the children in the rush, and there were still plenty of civilians left here. The problem was how they'd react if I announced I wanted the rest of them too—

KWA-GWA-GWA-GWA-GWA-GWAANG!!

An enormous explosion slammed into my ears without warning. Not enough to deafen me—but it had distance to it. At the very least, it hadn't gone off inside the castle.

"What—!"

The three of them startled and started barking orders at the subordinates around them—orders for situational assessment. After hearing something from Naberius, Bifrons even left the hall with Focalor, watching my face the whole way. I didn't bother stopping them. I needed to know what had happened myself.

KRAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

But what the hell was that roar that followed the blast? Savage and raw—and unmistakably the sound of a living thing.

"Don't tell me—the dragon…?"

Naberius muttered it near my side. A few more puzzle pieces clicked into place.

"So you failed at pet-sitting?"

Earlier they'd been talking about offering the kids to the dragon as sacrifices or whatever. Looks like something had gone wrong with that dragon after all.

"I-it should not be a major problem. Our defenses against the dragon are thorough—"

"Holy Power!"

Naberius's excuse never finished. The castle walls blocked the view of the city, but the pillar of light that had come slamming down from the far sky was perfectly visible.

"…The Hero?!"

In a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠city crawling with demons, what else could produce a pillar of pure Holy Power? As far as I could see, there was only one answer.

My kids were still alive and kicking. The corners of my mouth climbed with genuine feeling.

"Things just got… interesting."

That changed the situation. I dropped every worry about the Madness Gauge and what it might do. With the Inquisitor starting a dragon raid, there was no longer any reason for me to sit still.

"You there."

"Y-yes!"

"Stop them from cutting the prisoners' throats."

More precisely—I couldn't afford to sit still. In a raid, the standard play when adds try to join is to stop them. After that, I still needed to go help the Inquisitor's side.

"Y-yes? Ah—I-I wasn't questioning the order! I'll obey at once!"

Without the three 72 Demon Knights noticing, I had a few of the next rank down halt the blood-collection work. Then I walked over to Naberius, who was still issuing commands to the soldiers, and slung an arm around her shoulders.

"Let's go."

"…I worry that my inadequate service has caused you inconvenience."

"You're pretty sharp yourself."

"Words too generous—I will carry them with me for life."

If I killed her here, the jailers might realize I'd turned on them and start cutting throats again. Better to kill her on the way.

I interfered with Naberius's command and followed the path Focalor and Bifrons had taken. And when we reached the wall gate leading from the castle out into the city—

I dropped the arm from her shoulders and let Naberius go. She caught up to Focalor and Bifrons without even noticing I was lagging behind. They were already talking with the mid-level officers who'd come running at the sense that something was wrong—the captain of the guard, or people like him.

"Focalor. What's the situation?"

"Naberius? Why leave the castle and—"

And three steps away from them—

"Lady Gretchen appears to have moved—"

Seogeok!

"—ed?"

A Chamgyeok rougher and vaster than anything I usually threw carved through the thirty meters in front of me. The sky was sliding from night toward dawn with not even a moon, and the dark swallowed the fountains of blood as they rose.

It was a night of pure pitch-black.