Chapter 5 — A Visit from the Aunt
"Tempesta, you did well. Things got resolved easily thanks to you. It's a little late, but I really had to say thank you properly."
They were on their way back to the castle. Unlike the trip out, two carriages traveled together. In one rode Derek, the instigator of the whole affair, with Ian along to keep watch over him; in the other sat Bayul and the Death brothers, with the spirits crowding into whichever seats they fancied. Father Juan, for his part, had arranged to return later, since the miners still needed looking after.
―Hehe, I did hand over some high-grade intel, after all. Admit it!
Tempesta preened shamelessly, refusing to part with a single shred of credit. Where Spinel and Shame had taken up positions on either side of Bayul to guard him, the wind spirit had plastered himself right up against the three Death brothers. Who knew what he found so fascinating about them, but he kept leaning in and grinning at their faces. Innocent, as she always did when it rained, was enjoying the journey from outside the carriage, letting the falling rain drench her.
"So why are we letting him live?"
"...Sorry, what?"
At Death's abrupt question, Bayul asked him to repeat it, and Death pointed a finger at the carriage trailing behind them.
"Your cousin. The one back there. His crimes looked pretty nasty to me, so why are you just letting it slide?"
Death's face was the very picture of genuine incomprehension.
Oh. Right. He's a demon.
Bayul had forgotten yet again. Perhaps it was all those hours they'd spent living under the same roof as master and servant—even now that he knew Death's true identity, Bayul kept catching himself assuming the youth was something like himself. This was the man who'd severed his own brother's arm for the sin of talking back. No explanation Bayul could offer would ever satisfy him.
Still... if he had family of his own, maybe he'd understand a little...
"Wouldn't it be simpler to just kill him? Then you wouldn't need anyone watching him. Win-win, if you ask me."
"...May I ask you one thing?"
"You haven't answered anything since yesterday, and yet the questions just keep coming."
Even as he complained, Death tilted his chin up in an unmistakable go-ahead gesture.
"It may be an impertinent question. Are you certain that's all right?"
"I'll decide once I hear it."
"...Do you have family too, as a demon?"
"Family?"
"Yes. A father, a mother, perhaps siblings?"
"...I do have them. Why do you ask?"
There was something oddly sullen in Death's tone now. Discomfort at the mention of family, maybe. What was stranger was that Bayul could feel Bar and Amon, sitting alongside, stiffen right along with him.
"Derek did commit a serious crime, but he's still my cousin. He's my father's nephew."
"So?"
"So I'm giving him time to defend himself in front of his own father—my uncle. That's Hamilton's civil law, after all."
"Civil law?"
"Yes. Any citizen of Hamilton has the right to defend themselves before the law. That's how we prevent innocent people from being wrongly punished."
"Your cousin didn't look the least bit innocent to me, though? The evidence of his crime seemed pretty airtight."
"I know. I know it as well. Call it my courtesy to my uncle, then. Whatever else he is, he's still my father's brother. When he hears what's happened, he's going to grieve terribly."
That was the thing weighing most heavily on Bayul. His uncle cherished even Bayul, a mere nephew, so dearly—and Derek was his only son. How agonizing must it be, as a father, to answer for his own son's crimes? Bayul worried the shock might make the man gravely ill.
"Is that really something to grieve over that much?"
"...Sorry?"
"If it were me, I'd want to kill him myself."
An old memory surfaced, and once more a red glow flickered to life in Death's black eyes.
He was a man made entirely of black—yet strangely, whenever his anger flared, a crimson aura welled up around him. Was it just some simple transformation?
"Commander."
Just as he had before, Amon stepped in with a grave, measured voice to calm Death. The moment his hand touched Death's arm, the wavering red light began to ebb away.
―Whoa, his eyes just changed color! That's amazing!
Tempesta butted in, completely oblivious to the mood.
―Where do demons live? The Demon Realm, was it? Can I go visit?
"Tempesta."
Bayul tried to cut him off, but Tempesta, already riding high on his triumph over the Derek affair, showed no sign of stopping. He didn't so much as glance back, as if Bayul's voice hadn't reached him at all.
―What's your ranking, you three? Judging by your auras, it's got to be something serious.
"You mean our order of rank?"
―Yeah, something like that.
"The Commander holds the ninth seat, Lord Bar the tenth, and I the eleventh. The God of War whom we serve here in Hamilton is twelfth."
Amon explained with evident pride. Behind his glasses, his closed eyes somehow seemed to shine with satisfaction.
―Eh. Not impressed.
"Excuse me?"
―I may not look it, but I'm destined to become a Spirit King. You know what a king is, right? By your scale, that'd be, oh, around number one?
The sight of him—chin thrust up, arms crossed—was almost too precious to leave unwatched. Perhaps that was why Bar, quiet until now, piped up.
"Hey, wind brat. You don't look like you'd fill a fistful, and you're telling me you're gonna be a Spirit King?"
―What was that? A fistful?
"That's right! Even a Lower Spirit should have some dignity—how's a scrawny little runt like you supposed to become a real Spirit King, huh?"
―Whoa, are you picking a fight with me right now? You wanna go? Don't you?
"You started it, you little pest. Who do you think you are, calling us not impressive! Take that!"
―Take that what? Shall we throw down right here, hmm?
Whoosh!
A violent gale erupted inside the carriage without warning. Whose doing it was hardly warranted a question.
That damn temper of his.
Bayul had thought Tempesta had mellowed out lately, but the boy's old habits had come roaring back. Bayul figured as long as he behaved around Innocent, things would be fine—turns out Bar was the ambush waiting for him.
"Tempesta."
Before the squabble could spread any further, Bayul stepped in.
"Don't tell me you're actually planning to fight Bar?"
Bayul's voice was gentle, but his eyes were stern. Tempesta faltered and scrambled to excuse himself.
―No, I was just... curious, that's all.
"It seems I neglected to elaborate on one point."
Amon, stepping in on behalf of the thoroughly irritated Bar, set about restoring some honor(?).
"The rankings I mentioned don't, strictly speaking, apply to our Commander. The post of Commander-in-Chief of the Demon Realm isn't something just anyone can hold. Only the strongest being in the Demon Realm can fill it."
"...Is that so?"
Even Bayul hadn't known that.
"But how could anyone be stronger than the Demon King himself...?"
The question slipped out of Bayul unbidden, and Amon answered it with ease.
"Is Duke Randert a man weaker than the Emperor?"
"Ah..."
"I trust that explanation will suffice."
Suffice it more than did. The comparison made everything click in an instant.
Death is the strongest demon in the entire Demon Realm...
Only now was it truly sinking in for Bayul that his companion really was a demon.
Was it really all right to keep living alongside someone like that?
They had made a pact, so there was no backing out of it now. He had no choice but to carry on exactly as before. And truthfully, weighed honestly, Bayul had lost nothing by the arrangement—if anything, he was only receiving help.
I suppose adapting is the only way forward.
Whether he could keep it hidden well enough that his family and friends wouldn't find out—that, above all else, was what worried Bayul.
"By the way, what are all your names?"
Death suddenly turned and asked the spirits. Come to think of it, no one had been properly introduced yet.
"The one beside me is Tempesta, spirit of wind."
―Hello there, demons! Nice to meet you!
"And this is Spinel, spirit of fire; this is Shame, spirit of earth; and the one riding on the carriage roof is Innocent, spirit of water."
"I could tell what kind of spirit each of you was just by looking. I only wanted to be sure I had the names straight. You'd know without me saying, right?"
―Death, Bar, Amon. We're not idiots, you know.
Tempesta pointed at each of the three in turn, snickering as he went.
"What an entertaining spirit."
Death gave a dry, dismissive laugh.
"You all caught a brief glimpse of my true form yesterday, didn't you? How is it none of you look the least bit frightened? Ah—Spinel excepted, of course."
Spinel had barely spoken a word since boarding the carriage. She remained taut as a bowstring, as if she would not relax her wariness toward the demons even a fraction until the very end.
Spinel, is it that uncomfortable for you?
Bayul, concerned, had asked her several times, but she only ever gave the same answer: that she was fine.
―Should we... be afraid of you...?
"Shame?"
Shame, who like Spinel had sat silently beside them, unexpectedly spoke up. Coming from the bashful one, simply sitting close enough to guard Bayul's side was gesture enough—so to see him speak first, reaching out to another, felt strangely refreshing.
―That's right. Why would we be afraid of you?
―What are demons, anyway? Hmph!
Even Innocent, listening from the rooftop, piled on.
"Do spirits simply take after their master, I wonder?"
Death could hardly think otherwise.
He had said it purely out of curiosity; he hadn't actually wished for them to fear him. If anything, this strange situation... appealed to him.
Is it because it's the first time in thousands of years I've experienced anything like this?
He himself was the most astonished of anyone at these unfamiliar feelings.
"You said you'd seen spirits before, didn't you? Could you tell us about it now, even if only in passing?"
"Well, it's hardly a difficult tale."
"Would you happen to know why the Spirit Realm fell, as well?"
"...Not in any detail. All I know is that someone touched what should never have been touched."
"Touched what should never have been touched? What does that mean?"
"I don't know either. Being a god doesn't mean knowing everything."
"I see... Then—those spirits you saw before, what did they look like? Were they anything like Spinel or Shame?"
"No, the one I saw was a High Spirit of water."
The High Spirit of water Death had seen long ago had taken the form of an eagle. The memory of it churning its wings, steeped in translucent blue, had left quite an impression on him.
"But how did you come to see it?"
"...Huh?"
"I'm curious as to why the god of the Demon Realm would have laid eyes on a High Spirit of water."
"That's... none of your business."
Death's voice turned abruptly cold. Whatever the story behind it was, one thing was certain: Bayul had asked a question that should have been left unasked.
A sudden stillness settled over the carriage. Perhaps the others were simply quiet people by nature, but for Bayul the awkwardness was unbearable.
If only Tempesta would babble at a time like this—but the boy had shouted his question about why they should fear demons and flitted out the window moments ago.
If I'd known it would turn out like this, I'd never have ridden in this carriage...
It was too late for regrets. All Bayul could do was pray for the castle to come into view, sooner rather than later.