The Last Kindness
Wabutu Hirde, who had been perched atop his back, lightly sprang backward and landed once more upon the ground.
“What’s stopping us? Once the hatching happens, even the three of us together wouldn’t stand a chance against Lord Granbipra. Besides, there’s no guarantee his subordinates will keep obeying our orders once he’s hatched. Wouldn’t it be wiser to run while we still can?”
“Do you really think I’ve never considered that? And where exactly would we go if we left? Is there anywhere else that can satisfy this hunger of mine?”
“What if there is?”
At Wabutu Hirde’s confident reply, Elde Toquas’s massive eyes wavered for an instant. Wabutu Hirde did not miss the reaction and pressed on.
“You remember how I traveled through various regions under the Demon King’s army during the last great war, don’t you? There’s a hidden place nestled between the southern mountain ranges—not too far from here. It’s smaller than this forest, but there should be more than enough prey.”
“Ho. So following those fellows around gave you more than just those red stones on your back. How surprising.”
The remark was rude and mocking, yet Wabutu Hirde showed no sign of offense.
“If you’ve made up your mind, decide quickly. We’ll need to move fast if we want to escape the forest’s influence in time. Once we’re beyond its reach, Lord Granbipra won’t bother chasing us.”
Elde Toquas rolled his eyes in silence. Though he could never compare to Granbipra, he too had been born in the Ancient Forest and lived there for countless years. His subordinates were still scattered throughout the woods, and everything he liked—his favorite spots, his favorite prey—was here.
Moreover, if he left now, he would never return. No matter how great the danger looming before him, this was not a decision he could make lightly.
“…Why are you telling me this? If you wanted to run, you could have left on your own.”
Hesitation colored his voice as he asked.
“We’ve known each other a long time, after all. We were never particularly close, but consider this my final act of kindness before we leave the forest forever.”
Elde Toquas slowly closed his eyes. A heavy, fleeting silence settled over them. After a moment, he opened his eyes again, as though he had reached a decision.
“Very well. I’ll gratefully accept that kindness.”
“Are you really sure you don’t need more sleep?”
Rofena’s voice carried a trace of guilt.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
Anak answered with a smile, yet the fatigue etched on his face refused to fade completely. She knew it too, but could say nothing more.
In truth, she herself was one of the reasons Anak could no longer enjoy proper rest. Erill, who now sat quietly with her mouth shut, and Granbipra were no different.
A few hours earlier, Anak had lain down hoping to catch a short nap. Even he had sensed he wouldn’t manage a long, deep sleep. Still, his resting place proved far more treacherous than he had imagined.
Though they kept their distance, Erill startled and flinched at even Rofena’s smallest movements. And even with their conscious link severed, a summoner and summoned beast this close inevitably influenced each other’s emotions.
On top of that, Granbipra—who had been relatively quiet—suddenly changed his attitude and began speaking to Rofena. Their conversation quickly turned into a volley of short arguments and sarcastic remarks.
Of course, they had done their best to lower their voices—Granbipra, his mental waves. If Anak had been even slightly more easygoing, or if they hadn’t been in such an unfamiliar environment, he might have overlooked it. But his sensitive nature and past experiences with restless nights made that impossible.
Even so, as he had already said, Anak had more or less expected this. Now that he was somewhat awake, he decided to be grateful that he had at least managed four hours of sleep.
“Starting a little earlier won’t hurt. It’ll save us some time.”
Anak slowly walked toward Erill. He would have preferred to place a portable barrier on Granbipra first, but doing so might affect the hatching itself, so he gave up on the idea.
“Then I’ll head out with Erill first. Once we find a suitable spot, we’ll come back for you.”
Understood. Thank you again for your help.
Anak gave a light nod. Though he had been dragged into this unexpectedly, it was only two days. Finding a decent location and holding out against monsters—not even the regular Demon King’s army—for that long wouldn’t be difficult.
The fact that the location was the Ancient Forest was a variable, but since his task was defense or concealment rather than open combat, he felt no fear or worry.
“Yes. And if possible, please try not to tear into each other too much while we’re gone.”
With those words, Anak reached out and grabbed Erill’s wing. Their figures vanished moments later. From now on, Anak and Erill would move diligently to find a place suitable for hiding and holding out. The problem was the two left behind—Granbipra and Rofena.
This is rather unfortunate for him. I never intended to disturb his sleep.
“Is that the only thing you’re sorry about? From the start, this whole situation had nothing to do with Anak.”
As I said before, if he hadn’t brought that phoenix along, I would have spent the time until hatching in peace.
“Hah. If you were going to get caught by that firebird, it’s strange you managed to stay hidden until now.”
In truth, it had been largely by chance that Erill discovered the cave where his clone had been. The prey she had been toying with happened to flee into this valley, and while chasing it, her keen senses picked up Granbipra’s unusual aura.
She headed for the cave where Granbipra was hiding. The clone guarding the perimeter had fulfilled its role faithfully. Granbipra’s own power had weakened as hatching approached, and even as a clone, its intelligence was no greater than that of a simple beast.
A fierce battle followed. The presence of the unfamiliar phoenix had already put the forest’s inhabitants on edge, and the aftermath of the fight spread quickly. The battle dragged on, but in the end Erill emerged victorious. She followed the lingering trace of Granbipra’s aura into the cave, leading to the current situation.
Still, I must say I’m quite surprised. In all my long life, this is the first time I’ve seen a high-ranking demon like you fall in love with a human.
“……”
Since Granbipra’s arrival, this was the first time Rofena had not immediately refuted his words. She merely turned her gaze away, doing her best to appear composed.
You must still be quite young. Demons who have lived a long time tend to grow somewhat numb to such emotions. Judging by your appearance, you haven’t even lived two hundred years—perhaps not even a hundred. How long has it been since your Sanctification?
“……”
She answered, but her voice was too soft for Granbipra to hear.
Pardon? I’m sorry, could you repeat that?
“…About fifteen years.”
She forced the words out as though overcoming embarrassment. Granbipra, caught off guard by the answer, momentarily forgot what he had been about to say.
Fifteen years? That’s truly astonishing. You’re practically still a child.
“Don’t call me a child! I’m a proper demon who has undergone the Sanctification ritual!”
Most demons were created by higher-ranking demons, and only a tiny fraction were born through the sexual union of two demons.
This was partly because demons, with their long lifespans and forms closer to spiritual beings than physical ones, possessed far less sexual desire than other creatures. But there were also social and cultural reasons.
The vast majority of demons created by higher-ranking demons were weaker than their creators and almost never surpassed them. In contrast, demons born of two demons often possessed power at least equal to their parents, and sometimes even greater.
In demon society, where lifespans were long and hierarchy was strictly enforced, an excessive number of powerful high-ranking demons would create various problems for the entire demon realm. They instinctively understood this, which was why natural births were rare and creation was common.
Furthermore, nearly all created demons were born as fully formed adults, whereas naturally born demons spent a long infancy. During this period, they were frail and, from a human perspective, appeared and behaved like children between five and ten years old.
Though it varied between individuals, demons typically spent about fifty years in this stage, accumulating mana before undergoing the Sanctification ritual at the Temple of Naet, Goddess of the Central Council of the Demon Realm, finally becoming adults.
The Sanctification ritual was not merely symbolic. Under the goddess Naet’s blessing and protection, the infant body and mind were perfectly transformed into those of an adult. Just as a caterpillar sheds its chrysalis to become a butterfly, they completed the transition from child to adult—both physically and mentally—within half a day.
Because of this, few demons possessed the patience to endure such a long period of child-rearing. This, along with the need to maintain order in the demon realm, contributed to their avoidance of natural reproduction and child-rearing.
Yet Rofena had just revealed that only fifteen years had passed since her own Sanctification. Compared to Granbipra—or even to ordinary demons—this made her extraordinarily young.
So you became a Demon Commander less than fifteen years after reaching adulthood—less than ten, if we count from the start of the war? You must be an even more remarkable demon than I thought.
Granbipra was genuinely impressed.
Of course, the moment a demon completed the Sanctification ritual and became an adult, their abilities and power were already fully formed. Time alone rarely increased that power further. But that was only true of raw strength; the refinement of technique and mastery of its use were not granted overnight.
Throughout history, countless demons had proven that superior skill and combat proficiency could overcome differences in raw power. For her to have risen above so many competitors and claimed the position of Flame Legion Commander of the Demon King’s army in less than ten years after becoming an adult meant her own strength must have been overwhelming enough to surpass far older and more experienced high-ranking demons.
“Of course.”
Her voice and expression were filled with immense pride.
Then why is he still keeping you imprisoned?
At that question, her expression hardened.
I saw the same feelings for you in his eyes. He must know how you feel about him as well.
She could tell the question was not born of simple curiosity. Her expression grew sharp, and faint flames began to rise along her body.
“What are you trying to pull?”
…It’s nothing. It’s just that after living so long, one occasionally feels the urge to meddle.
His tone carried a strange bitterness.
Love that can never be fulfilled is not something worth pursuing.
“What would a mere snake know…!”
Her flames turned black in an instant.
Please calm yourself. I have no intention of telling you to give up or that it’s impossible. If anything, I’d like to cheer you on.
Rofena’s flames returned to red and gradually subsided.
But from what I can see, he has no intention of releasing you. Why is that?
“…That guy’s just afraid.”
Afraid of you?
“Afraid of this situation changing.”
Rofena understood Anak’s heart perfectly.
“He’s greedier than he looks. If he can’t have something completely, or if he thinks he’ll lose it in the end, he’d rather not have it at all.”
So he chose to keep you imprisoned forever rather than risk losing you?
She smiled as though Granbipra’s question were foolish.
“No. He can’t bring himself to make that choice. He’s only putting it off. And because of that, he keeps agonizing and suffering without end.”
When she spoke those final words, she looked unbearably sorrowful.
Are you all right with that?
“I have all the time in the world.”
Of course, it wasn’t as though she had simply endured being unable to break the barrier until now—she still couldn’t. But it was also true that her previous attempt had shown her a possibility. If she tried again, slowly, several times, it might not be entirely impossible.
So that’s what you’ve been thinking.
Granbipra’s voice and tone remained unchanged.
“……?”
It’s a common thing. Whether demon, elf, or anyone else with a long lifespan, they fall into that misconception far too easily.
Yet beneath those words lay something heavy and sorrowful that somehow transmitted itself all too clearly.
“What do you mean? What misconception?”
Your thinking isn’t wrong. For beings like us with long lives, it’s the natural choice. For those who don’t have such lifespans, it might even be called noble.
His words carried not only a heavy sadness but also a bitter, directionless mockery.