Chapter 13
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 13
This was exhausting. He was grateful the young Demon King had helped out, but honestly, this was a struggle. Besides, she was— "Heavier than I thought..."
Feeling Melju’s warm, limp breath against his cheek, Swallow let out a quiet sigh.
I guess even a monster who lives like a total shut-in can be an object of admiration to someone.
He didn't have to go far. Before entering the tavern, he’d wondered why the building was three stories tall; as he suspected, the third floor was lodging.
It was a clever business model—turning patrons who passed out drunk into overnight guests. Silently applauding the ingenuity of human commerce, Swallow headed to the corner counter with Melju slung over his shoulder. He had to rummage through every last one of Melju’s pockets before he could finally pay and secure the key to a double room.
The room was exactly as he had imagined.
Given the steep price for an inn, he’d secretly hoped for something plush and luxurious, but what greeted him was a crude wooden bed topped with a thin cloth duvet. To his disappointment, it felt just as uncomfortable as it looked when he sat on it.
I guess they figure there’s no need to provide good service to guests who aren't in their right minds... That was probably their mindset.
Aside from the bed, the room was unremarkable. There was a small room that looked like a bathroom and a single round table. On the table sat a vase with a single flower in it. And, perhaps as a basic service, a straw basket held a few pieces of dried fruit.
He picked up a piece of dried fruit—he couldn't tell if it was pear or quince—and took a bite. It was absolutely not meant to be swallowed. He grabbed the vase and downed the water in one go. The flower, at least, was edible.
After draining the vase, Swallow glanced back at Melju, whom he had unceremoniously tossed onto the bed. She was curled up, as if she were cold.
If I had my way, I’d make her sleep on a bed of thorns, and even that wouldn’t be enough.
"But she did work hard," he muttered.
He had been prepared to sleep outdoors if necessary, so he should be grateful for this much. Above all, the Demon King’s coin had paid for the alcohol and the room.
Forcing himself to be positive, he gathered the blankets from both beds and draped them over Melju. She tossed and turned, not yet fully asleep.
She even resembles humans in the most useless ways.
Still, it wasn't particularly annoying.
*
A very warm feeling. A sensation she hadn't felt in a long time—someone taking care of her. It was so cozy she wanted to lean into it...
Had she gotten drunk again? Her head throbbed. As the Demon King, her mind cleared quickly, but a lingering hangover tugged at her temples. Melju placed a hand on her head. It seemed she had overdone it when she’d only meant to relax and have a drink.
She slowly sat up. She remembered drinking with enthusiasm, but everything after that was a blank. Still, a quick look at her surroundings was enough to guess what had happened.
"Did Sir Swald carry me all the way here...? Hah, wait, more importantly...!"
She sensed a presence behind the door of what was likely the bathroom. She was probably alone in an inn room with Sir Swald. And she had been drunk.
This situation... could it be?
"I-Is this... Is this the kind of situation where Sir Swald and I... do that?!"
Melju’s mind descended into chaos.
Was this an opportunity or a crisis?
*
"Please come again!"
Clang. The bell hanging above the wooden door rang loudly as the last staggering customer finally vanished from sight. It was late enough to be called the dead of night. Heavy clouds hid the moon. Still, the owner figured they’d finished up a bit earlier than usual.
"Hah, finally..."
Cleaning up was always a chore. It was a nightmare in a tavern, where sober people transformed into messes who couldn't even look after themselves. Still, the remodeling had been worth it; ever since the interior had been upgraded to a more sophisticated atmosphere, the number of troublesome customers had decreased. Not that the place was exactly clean, though.
A mess was still a mess.
The maids and servers would handle the kitchen and tables. That’s what he hired them for. The owner, who had been watching them intently, shifted his gaze toward the end of the hall. His expression hardened the moment he saw the disarray there.
"If they saw it, they should have tidied it up before leaving. People are so careless with things just because they aren't theirs... Tsk."
The owner’s brow furrowed as he looked at the Dungeon Information Board, which was cluttered with jumbled papers. This was always the problem with mercenaries. Living a wandering life must make their manners wander right off.
His negative opinion of mercenaries solidifying even further, the owner slowly began organizing the board. Beer on white paper left a yellow stain that looked like piss. Every time he touched the damp paper, he felt a revulsion, as if he were handling a used tissue.
What was even more ridiculous was that the mercenaries who rummaged through everything and left it a mess were the very ones who didn't have the skills to clear even a low-rank dungeon.
"What’s this? This one’s soaked in booze, too," the owner grumbled, picking up a red sheet of paper.
"Flyers for the Seven Great Evil Caves are expensive… The material itself is different from the other papers. And they ruined it again. Seriously, I don't know why we even have to post these. Don't you agree? Honestly, among the guys who spend their time guzzling booze in a place like this, is there even one who has the skill to challenge a Great Evil Cave? It has to make sense. Stuff like this should be posted on the Imperial Palace notice boards, right?"
"The law says if we're going to post anything, we have to post everything. What can you do? Haha..."
The other employees laughed awkwardly at the owner, who was grumbling as he crumpled the red paper. This was a common occurrence. They were used to him throwing a fit whenever he had to spend a single extra cent, despite making plenty of money.
"Was the paper you threw away the subjugation request for the Primordial Core?" an employee asked amidst the complaints.
Hearing this, the owner glanced back at the board, as if he couldn't even remember, before answering.
"Yeah, looking at the empty spot, it was the Primordial Core."
"That’s a relief, then. A new one came in just yesterday, but I forgot about it and left it aside. We can just replace it with the new one."
"What? You hadn't changed it yet? How could you... If the Imperial Inspectors caught us, it would be a fine! A fine!"
Despite his words, the owner snatched the paper from the employee with a broad smile. Only after he replaced the sheet did the tavern fall silent again. The workday was finally coming to an end.
The 'Primordial Core' of the Seven Great Evil Caves rank.
Located inside the Forest of Graphenia, near Hastin in the western part of the Empire.
An underground cavern composed of limestone (Standard Type 3-16).
※ WARNING— This dungeon contains danger levels equivalent to the Great Evil rank. Entry is permitted only to Imperial-certified S-rank Subjugation Squads or forces recognized as having equivalent capability.
Recommended personnel for the dungeon—detailed explanations below, miscellaneous reviews.
And, at the very end—
—List of Participating Subjugation Squads—
The 'Paimore Subjugation Squad' under Paimore du Bellai.
A total of 31 members led by Captain Niphrim.
—Scheduled Subjugation Date—
Within 72 hours of the issuance of the above flyer.
The newly replaced paper emitted an ominous red glow.
Phase. 3
"Ah, the warmth is nice. Very nice."
Soaking in the steaming bath, Swallow muttered to himself. At times like this, a fragile human body was quite convenient; even this low temperature was enough to feel warm.
It was a pleasure he could never experience in his original form, where even the firestorms frequently unleashed by self-proclaimed high mages felt merely lukewarm. In his true body, water at this temperature wouldn't feel warm at all.
He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. Inside a hexagonal tube of transparent synthetic mineral, a fingernail-sized mana stone imbued with luminescent magic glowed faintly. The light hanging from the ceiling swayed left and right like a precarious chandelier. Swallow followed its movement with his eyes as if hypnotized.
His mind was a total blank.
"I have to find... Rene..."
He knew being impatient wouldn't help, but the words escaped his lips like a habit. Of course, the fact that no viable plan came to mind was a real headache. As he’d just thought, his mind was blank. No, he was thinking, but he forgot everything immediately. And just as he had moments before, Swallow muttered again.
"I have to find... Rene..."
He knew he had to find her, but he had no concrete plan. Perhaps that was why his thoughts kept cutting off. All he had was a vague idea: If I take the device called the Teleportation Hub to Hastin, things will work out somehow, right?
What was Rene doing now? Did she resent him? Why did she do that?
Would they meet as enemies next time?
"Like Patrick said, maybe if I get down on my knees and kiss her boots, it'll work out. Whatever."
Thinking deeply wasn't going to produce a solution. This was a situation where he needed to move his body, not his brain.
Having reached that conclusion, Swallow stood up. Getting some sleep seemed like the wisest choice. When he went to pick up the clothes he had taken off, they were damp from the steam-filled room. Letting out a deep sigh at his own stupidity, he put on his shirt. Something about the way the clothes felt seemed off.
He had put it on backward.
"Ah, this is the worst."
In a tone that suggested he had given up on everything, Swallow threw on the rest of his clothes and swung the bathroom door open.
He emerged from the bathroom in a massive cloud of steam, like an actor making a dramatic entrance on stage. The spectacle made it feel less like he was exiting and more like he was escaping. As the misty vapor gradually cleared, his vision returned. The first thing he saw was Melju. The next thing he saw was also Melju.
He saw Melju.
He saw nothing but Melju.
Melju was right in front of his eyes.
"Sir Swald!"
"Waaagh!"
Utterly flustered, Swallow let out a strange, reflexive shriek. At the same time, he jumped back two steps. His feet slipped, and he almost fell, but he managed to catch his balance after flailing his arms a few times.
He had been careless. Incredibly careless. What was this? How had she not made a sound?
If this had been a battle, he was certain it would have been a fatal blow. The calm, "Oh, you're awake," he'd intended to say shot up several octaves instead.
"W-Why are you so surprised, Sir Swald? Was there... a... reason... why I shouldn't have woken up?"
"No, you scared me! Make some noise! Anyone would be startled, not just me!"
"You were startled? Ooh? You were startled?"
"Yes, it was an incredible technique! I couldn't even hear you breathing! At that level, even the Lord Swallow you admire so much wouldn't have noticed!"
"What blasphemy! Lord Swallow would have noticed something like this instantly!"
Well, I'm sorry! I didn't notice in real-time!
He wanted to shout at Melju, who wore a look of utter incomprehension, but Swallow barely managed to swallow the words rising in his throat.
He had to endure. He had to. He was doing this to find Rene.
Just then, a tapping sound came from the other side of the wall—a protest from the next room to be quiet. Only then did Swallow take a deep breath, finally calming down.
After cooling his excitement somewhat, Swallow looked at Melju again. He did so for a simple reason: Melju was staring intently at him, so he simply stared back.
And then he got worked up all over again.
No, he blew past panicked and became unnervingly calm.
"Are you in heat?"
And because he was so calm, the thought in his head slipped right out of his mouth.
Melju, standing before him, was, to put it simply, naked.
Whether she had released the simple transformation magic she used to appear human, he could now see horns growing from either side of her head. He saw wings, too. And above all, he saw her naked body, which he definitely shouldn't be seeing.
Lowering his gaze just a bit, her slender neck came into view. The soft curve of her collarbones, and her breasts that were—not excessively—voluptuous.
"They're gone?"
They were gone. Vanished. Breasts, where did you run off to?
For a moment, his mind went blank. What Swallow saw was a rather meager physique. Melju was supposed to have a magnificent body, but what he saw now was a physique so underdeveloped it was the polar opposite of the Melju he'd seen until now.
Had his eyesight deteriorated? He rubbed his eyes. Nothing changed. Back to the collarbones, then to her face. He slowly raised his gaze. The reason Melju’s face looked so young, the reason her cheeks looked plump with baby fat—it wasn't just his imagination.
He slowly lowered his gaze again—then, thinking he had lowered it too far, he raised it again before things got dangerous. No, before all that...
"A shrimp?"
She had shrunk, too. She was now the height of a ten-year-old human.
"I-I am not a shrimp!" a harsh denial reached his ears.
Her voice was higher than before, but that characteristic lilting tone, those specific horns, those specific wings—the shrimp in front of him was definitely Melju.
"Rejuvenation?"
"Don't you think that's a very rude word, Sir Swald!"
"You poor thing, you've lost your way."
"Stop treating me like a brat!"
"There, there."
"I will... not forgive you..."
"...You. Why did you suddenly turn into a child?"