107. Return of the Demon King
107. Return of the Demon King
Immediately after filming Chapter 3, I made a declaration to the studio.
"From now on, we will shoot Chapter 4 during winter break. However, personnel participating in Chapter 4 will not be granted any leave or outside activity until filming is complete."
At my announcement that even all contact would be prohibited, the studio members looked at me like I was insane.
Still, a few of the more perceptive ones had at least figured out that I had recruited another major actor.
Most of them merely assumed I had brought in John, just as I had once recruited Riv; none reached the correct answer.
In any case, according to my declaration, the students were confined to the filming location under an absolute embargo.
The students, who had already resolved themselves to not return to their family homes during the break, finally waited in anticipation for the actor I would introduce.
Most of them seemed to assume that if I was making this much fuss, the actor had to be John.
But what stepped onto their stage completely denied their conjectures.
A masked man who appeared suddenly on the stage via spatial movement.
The production crew focused on his face, wondering who this person was.
And when he removed his mask, the entire production crew collectively held their breath.
Agion declared into the microphone.
"I have returned."
*
While the production crew busily worked on the film with Agion, I headed to the music team.
It was for Agion's dedicated theme music.
The Dwarf Harmony Atelier, the Beastfolk Choir, and lastly the Orchestra Club.
I gathered the presidents of each music club in one place and ordered the theme music.
"Now, this person is the protagonist of the song you will be creating from now on. You know what I mean, right?"
The club presidents, who had been tense due to my uncharacteristically serious attitude, were horrified once they learned who the protagonist of the theme music was.
The look in their eyes asking if students were really allowed to make this was a bonus.
My answer to that was—
"Geniuses aren't born. They're made by grinding people into the ground."
These people lag behind professional composers?
Then you just make them put in the eeeffort equivalent to how much they lag behind.
Effort is lacking?
Then you just squeeze them harder.
When I calmly informed the presidents of this, the choir president, who resembled the Duke, broke into a cold sweat and spoke.
"Uh... please just let us live."
"Ah, that was a joke. The real reason is at Agion's request."
Seeing the faces of the presidents who had been making genuinely deathlike expressions, I figured any further joking would cause real trouble, so I told them the true reason.
In reality, entrusting this to them was because Agion himself wanted it.
- The essence of this film is that students are the ones making it. I must not forget this.
Initially, as this was Agion's comeback work, I had intended to recruit a professional filming crew and music team.
But the Dean had firmly opposed this.
A film that forgets its essence collapses swiftly, he said, and he believed in the students' potential.
As the words of a great industry veteran who had watched a series collapse after losing sight of its essence, his warning carried weight.
So I entrusted it to them.
I told them that Agion's true identity was in fact the Dean of the Hero Department, and that he had entrusted this commission to them out of faith in the students.
However, even as I spoke, I was uneasy about how the presidents would react.
Sure enough, their reaction was so intense it was almost burdensome.
"Our Harmony Atelier will mobilize every capability the workshop possesses to create an immortal masterpiece."
"Even if it means sacrificing the lifespan of our choir's vocal cords, we will meet the deadline."
"There is no time. If I am to confine the members planning to return to their family homes starting tomorrow, I must hurry."
Sometimes, goodwill was far heavier than malice.
The Dean's faith in the students, the weight of faith from Agion, a legendary actor, was immensely heavy upon the students.
But their reaction was more than welcome to me.
'With this kind of reaction, there's no need to worry.'
Honestly, even if these students made it, they'd probably do a better job than the imps.
*
Three pieces of music were created for one man.
Divided into an electric version, a choral version, and an orchestral version, respectively.
The members of each music club devoted themselves to performance without even knowing who the theme music they were creating was for.
The only ones who knew they were in the process of making theme music for Agion were the club presidents.
The problem was that every single one of the presidents had become possessed by the spirit of a master ceramicist.
- This isn't it! Make it again from the beginning!
- If you're going to belt out your voice like that, open the door and leave right now.
- Did I ask you to dance while playing, or to show off your technique? Can't you even do that one thing?
It would be one thing if those people had hysterics just once or twice.
Resigning myself to the fact that artist types were always like this, the music was steadily created.
The music was progressing smoothly, and the film was progressing well too.
Allen was working the people hard at the moment, but since they themselves acknowledged that they ought to be worked hard, the teamwork wasn't damaged.
While on set, Allen drove the students as a priest and, when necessary, appeared on camera as Liam’s godfather.
His duties didn't end there.
Even in the midst of that busyness, he visited the props team whenever filming ended.
"How is it today?"
"Oh, you’re here? We’ve got so many repairs today that it’s chaos."
The moment he entered the lab, Allen grabbed a suitable piece of metal in front of him, alchemized it, and placed it next to Ailey.
Without even looking at it, Ailey fitted it into the Dihex she was assembling.
As if by prior arrangement, it fit perfectly.
This was the very reason Allen frequently visited the props team.
After the bout Ras and Liam had with Dihex in the third film, the film's identity had undergone a slight transformation.
Originally, the only distinctive trait of this setting had been the absence of Sanctuaries and Divine Power, but we decided to give every student a Dihex to add more identity.
The problem was that, in order to bring out each student's individuality, they were being handed all sorts of experimental Dihex.
Unlike the Halberd Shotgun or Spear Machine Gun, whose reliability had already been proven, what the students were given was full of prototypes, so malfunctions occurred frequently.
Consequently, the props team's routine was to repair them every time filming concluded.
Allen immediately took a spot right beside Ailey and began fiddling with the weapons.
In this workshop, Ailey was the professor and Allen was the assistant.
He provided all manner of support so that Ailey could focus on her work.
Watching Allen in this state, the students of the props team let out admiration.
"I didn’t believe Allen when he said he was Ailey’s senior from the same Magic Tower, but I guess it was true."
"Now that’s what I call a genius."
One might wonder why they were expressing admiration at mere assisting, but since the students knew full well that such assisting was by no means easy, this reaction was entirely natural.
The students, who had been fairly confident when they first entered the props team, had keenly experienced over the course of a year working in sync with Ailey that her level was not that of a student.
Take alchemy, for example.
Ordinary alchemy requires a magic circle.
Alchemy activated when one drew a circle, inscribed a star, and packed it with symbols that substituted for chemical formulas.
Once the desired part had been created, the circle had to be erased and a new one drawn for the next part, repeating the process until the object was complete.
And if a part is slightly out of spec?
Back to square one.
But Ailey was on another level.
For her, with a single clap of her hands, the desired parts would cascade into being.
At one point, unable to understand why the props-team students could not keep up, she asked them with a question mark practically floating over her head.
"You simply use your blood vessels as the circle and your mana and knowledge as the formula. Is that really so difficult...?"
Saying that, if they truly couldn't understand, she handed them a paper she had written, telling them to read it and that they would get it, and instructed them to practice by tomorrow.
The students' answer to her words was consistent.
'The pace is too fast, Professor...!'
Ailey was already the Golden School’s foremost authority on alchemy.
There was no way students could replicate her work just by reading her paper once.
To compare it to a past life, it was like asking why someone couldn't do mental arithmetic for the theory of relativity when the explanation was plainly written in Einstein's paper.
Of course it was impossible.
With desperate, all-out effort, they might manage to imitate it once by some chance, but they had yet to reach the realm where parts rained from the sky with a single clap like Ailey.
Yet Allen was matching tempo with her.
No, in terms of alchemy, he might even be beyond her.
Because he didn't even clap.
When they asked for his secret method—
"The heart and lungs circulate in a circular shape, right? I just alchemized while feeling that, and it worked."
How the hell did he do that?
The moment they heard those words, that was the reaction that naturally came from the props team.
In the end, they gave up trying to understand the human being called Allen.
He was simply a genius.
Because of this, when Allen arrived, the grad student... no, the team member who had been right beside Ailey naturally yielded the spot.
It was due to the conclusion that Allen alone assisting was far better for Ailey than dozens of students assisting.
But this was not solely because of Allen's magical skill.
It was also because, beyond skill, his teamwork with Ailey was overwhelming.
An example of that was unfolding before the team members right now.
Ailey extended her hand to the side without saying anything in particular.
Without even looking at it, Allen alchemized a part on the spot and handed it to her.
As if connected by a neural link, he would alchemize what Ailey wanted, hand her the necessary tool, or clear away unneeded tools from the desk.
Allen might as well have been called Ailey's third arm.
The climax was when she headed towards a different workbench.
Allen pushed the footrest behind him with his foot, making it arrive exactly at the workbench she was heading to.
Then she would step onto the footrest as if it were the most natural thing, and Allen would finish the work she had been doing and repeat the same task at that workbench.
However, because the workbench was cramped during this repair session, he assisted while standing behind her as if back-hugging her.
Watching this, it was as if...
'No matter how you look at it, they're lovers.'
No matter how you looked at it, they were.
Even Ailey, who normally would startle at the slightest touch of Allen's skin, continued working within Allen's embrace without concern, and Allen was also pressed close to her as if it were the most natural thing.
A pink romantic atmosphere between the two?
There was none of that.
For the two of them, this was simply a 'natural' task.
One of the team members watching the scene raised a question.
"Professor... ah, I mean. Ailey, last time, about the unicorn horn color..."
The team members whispered, lest the two should overhear.
As they clearly recalled, according to the rumor, her horn had emitted a soft purple light.
Red much, blue much, green a little.
The problem was that while red and green were understandable, blue was an area notoriously difficult to interpret.
Most of them had assumed Ailey had simply given up because the competition for Allen was so fierce.
But watching that scene, interpreting it as resignation seemed unreasonable.
While the students stopped working and devoted their brainpower to analyzing Ailey’s inner feelings, a female wolf beastkin proposed a new theory.
"She's afraid of being rejected."
"What?"
The female student explained Ailey's psychology to the other bewildered students.
"Scientists tend to prefer the lesser evil to the worst outcome. Rather than confess and lose this small happiness, she’s maintaining the status quo."
"Then how does the relationship progress?"
"Don’t worry. In cases like this, she’ll change her attitude the moment a serious romantic rival appears. The status quo only holds because Allen isn’t interested in love; once he becomes conscious of it, she’ll move on her own as if her feet are on fire."
After Allen started to move, even maintaining the status quo would become difficult, so Ailey would be forced into action by circumstance.
The students applauded the wolf girl's analysis and said.
"Brilliant, Professor."
"Hehe. This much is nothing."
Then they realized something odd.
Did we have someone like this in our workshop?
By the time they realized it, the wolf beastkin—the Love Priest Kenia—had already slipped out of the workshop.
She distanced herself from the workshop and opened her notepad.
In her notepad, memos were written about the relationship chart centered on Allen and the women around him.
Kenia, who was chewing on her pen and examining the memos, muttered.
"Where did he even find so many distinctive women?"
Even at a glance, connecting them all seemed no easy task.
But she was Kenia.
A Love Priest and the youngest Romance Advisor Priest.
In any situation, on any romantic front, she had never been defeated.
Although her wolf nature made her a steadfast supporter of devoted monogamous love, she knew how to separate her professional duties from her private preferences.
As a veteran, handling a romantic front like Allen's was easy for her.
'First, if I establish the legal wife, half the battle is won.'
An overwhelmingly dominant legal wife maintains the balance of a harem.
The legal wife could also awaken the emotion of love within the heart of such an oblivious man.
Kenia hummed a tune, thinking she would easily resolve this romantic front as well.
*
...Or so Kenia had once thought.
Exactly ten minutes after she had entertained that thought.
She was bound in red thread and hung upside down from the ceiling.
With her eyes also covered, she couldn't see anything, but the female voice coming from behind her was one she remembered.
The kidnapper princess parted her lips.
"Who did you say was the legal wife?"
"Pia, of course! Pia is the only rightful wife!"
Kenia was released only after repeatedly swearing that she would help Pia win Allen.
Kenia had barely escaped the kidnapping and was on her way home.
This time, someone put a sack over her head and took her somewhere.
Judging by the voice she heard this time, it was Diane.
Along with the sound of something like a round being chambered, Kenia felt cold metal press against her forehead.
Diane asked a question similar to Pia's.
"Speak. Who did you think was the legal wife."
"Diane is!!!"
This time, she was only freed from confinement after swearing that Diane was the legal wife.
And the next day.
"Hey. Why are you subtly trying to push only those two together?"
An elf with abnormally sharp perception entered the fray.
Kenia, who had been quietly supporting both Diane and Pia, could only panic.
'How?'
Kenia knew that if Diane or Pia discovered she had been playing both sides, she would be torn limb from limb.
So she had been supporting Allen's romantic front without being detected, not just by those two but by anyone.
Indeed, neither of the two seemed to have noticed Kenia's scheme.
Yet this elf had spotted Kenia’s scheme in a studio of hundreds when no one else had noticed it.
Just where had the flaw been?
When Kenia asked Ceres how she had known, this was the answer.
"Instinct."
This was driving her crazy.
Afterward, Kenia was released only after promising to support Ceres’s romantic front as well.
Having finally escaped Allen’s women, Kenia immediately revised her assessment of them.
People bursting with individuality?
No.
They were simply maniacs.
For the first time in her life as a Love Priest, Kenia had no choice but to admit it.
This romantic front was not something she could control.
She headed straight for her client.
"This appears to be beyond the domain I can control."
After hearing the report, Nikolai thanked her for her work and asked Kenia to focus solely on Leon’s romantic front.
Kenia nodded miserably and went to support Leon’s romantic front.
After sending Kenia off, Nikolai placed Allen and his women within a single field of view and lamented.
Once again today, the world did not flow as Nikolai wished.