011. Scheduled for the First Floor
Beautiful flowers have thorns.
Sweet honey is guarded by bees.
Spirit herbs were even more precious than flowers or honey. More beautiful, sweeter, and nobler.
Naturally, many eyed them covetously.
Naturally, many sought to claim them.
And so, naturally...
"Frost Orcs."
Another hunter sought to claim the spirit herbs.
They were covered head to toe in pristine white fur. He—no, they—were Frost Orcs, dwellers of the snowcapped peaks.
"What do we do? Even seasoned knights can't stand against them."
"And standing next to you is a Demon King, no less."
Berge rose to his feet. He slowly approached their village.
Kruk—
Kruk?
A monster's guttural cry pierced the blizzard. He could feel their gazes upon him.
One, two, three. The golden eyes multiplying in the gloom brimmed with wariness and hostility.
"...Demon."
The rough words spilled from one orc's mouth.
Berge hadn't bothered concealing his presence, and they'd sniffed out his true nature.
"By order of your Demon King, leave these behind and depart peaceably."
Monsters were ultimately inferior to true demonic beasts. The demonic beasts scattered across dimensions by the Demon World had taken root in the mortal realm, evolving into their current forms.
Dozens, hundreds of generations removed from the Demon World, yet a faint imprint lingered in their flesh.
A loyalty reserved for demons. For the Demon World.
But...
"...No."
"This is ours."
"We heed no demon's words."
The Frost Orcs bared their fangs. Wariness turned to murderous rage.
"These bastards..."
Berge had overlooked two things. First, that the monsters' severed ties to the Demon World had faded to near nothingness after their isolated lives.
And second, that to these instinct-driven beasts, the spirit herb before them was an absolute treasure they could never relinquish.
One they could defy even an unknown demon for.
But the Frost Orcs had overlooked something too: that Berge wasn't merely a demon, but a Demon King.
And that he enjoyed a good fight.
Whoosh—
Black flames erupted. The driving snow couldn't even breach their domain.
"Kill... him!"
"Protect what's ours!"
The orcs gripped their weapons and charged with bloodshot eyes.
The black flames yawned open like a colossal maw. The two forces collided.
KABOOM—
The lead orc exploded on impact.
That was the signal. Explosions, screams, and roars filled the air.
"...Ah."
Ernan stared blankly at the carnage.
It was hot.
Intensely so—the blizzard felt like a mere warm breeze by comparison.
The black flames moved like a living thing.
Melting snow, scorching earth, devouring orcs.
The orcs screamed.
They rolled in the snow, but the flames didn't extinguish.
Their fangs never reached the Demon King. Their blades melted pitifully before the infernal blaze.
It was a one-sided slaughter. A massacre.
'Even five Frost Orcs can devour an ogre. On the mountains, no knight, no matter how strong, can face them—you must flee if you encounter any.'
'Would I ever have reason to climb a mountain crawling with Frost Orcs?'
'True enough. Still, best to keep it in mind, haha.'
Fragments of old memories surfaced.
She'd ended up here after all. Far from any real danger, though.
'So this is a Demon King...'
The spirits trembled in terror, hiding behind her back from the absolute one's majesty.
But she couldn't look away. It was beautiful. That strength, that overwhelming power.
'If only I'd been that strong...'
Maybe she wouldn't have lived like a prisoner.
In that moment, darkness fell. The ironic black light vanished.
Huff—
The Demon King exhaled in exhilaration.
The chieftain's body dangled limply in his grasp like a corpse.
Dead? No, not quite.
A faint breath remained. Barely. Nothing more.
The chieftain was in no state to act. Twisted limbs oozed blood; his once-lustrous fur had burned away without a trace.
His comrades lay buried in the frozen wastes, blanketed in snow.
"Say it again."
"...W-We offer it."
"Listen well."
The Demon King spat the words like venom.
"I hate being ignored. I despise being mocked."
By orcs, no less. Not even heroes.
The vanguard of the Demon World.
"What do you think it does to my mood when lowly curs like you forget your place and crawl over me?"
"M-Mercy..."
"Do you think a biting dog deserves mercy from its master?"
"W-We will serve you, Demon King."
The tower's inhabitants fell into three broad categories.
Demons.
Demonic beasts.
And monsters.
Demons were the Demon World's intelligent beings.
Demonic beasts were everything else.
Monsters were a branch of demonic beasts long rooted in the mortal realm.
There were two ways to make monsters tower residents.
Imprint a slave seal using Magic Points and the tower's power.
Or crush them with sheer force until they submitted willingly.
But Berge had no intention of taking them in.
Even without a Magic Point imprint, tower residents absorbed its mana, however faintly.
He had no Magic Points to waste on trash like this right now.
And dogs that bit their master didn't deserve to live.
"That's not for you to decide."
Crunch—
He claimed the chieftain's life.
"Whoa... The mana purity here is incredible."
At the heart of the Frost Orcs' village grew plants wafting thick mana scents.
Gulp.
The princess swallowed unconsciously.
"Eyes off."
Berge snorted and shoved her aside.
He carefully unearthed three roots and tucked them into his bosom.
These pure white flowers, called Iasins, were cold-attuned herbs that grew only in snowcapped mountains.
Prized by water spirit summoners and ice mages willing to pay a fortune, this haul in a mere thirty minutes was a jackpot.
'Who'd have thought a mana hotspot this close...'
Berge clicked his tongue at the princess, who now frolicked about with her spirits despite her earlier disappointment.
Even without the herbs, the site itself was a boon for a spirit summoner like her.
'If I'd been more cautious...'
The tower absorbed ambient mana in trace amounts, converting it to magic power.
Building here would have eased his supply issues. No changing it now, though.
'Guess exchanging princesses needs more thought.'
He'd considered monitoring the heroes and swapping the first princess for the thirteenth if needed.
But her potential made him hesitate.
The Erjest Mountains, overflowing with spirit herbs.
And a princess who commanded the ultimate scouts: spirits.
'At least for now...'
He needed to exploit her while she was useful.
Until he minimized Dimensional Interference and reclaimed his full power.
Until he could sever the heads of the heroes who'd toyed with him.
'Humans need the right carrot to put their backs into it.'
"Moving on. Find more, and I'll toss you one."
"Yes! I'll search hard!"
But as they say, a strong start doesn't guarantee the finish. Nothing turned up until she collapsed from exhaustion.
"The heroes have begun their Hero March?"
"Yes. The elf messenger reported as much."
Returning to the tower, Berge was greeted with news of the Hero March's start.
Hero March. A term he'd heard ad nauseam in his previous life.
"...So it begins."
"Word is thirty-two heroes have banded together."
"Who's leading?"
"A hero named Hillun Kargil. He's famed for slaying the Lust Demon King."
"HIllun Kargil..."
A name he knew. A genuine heavyweight who'd beheaded the Lust Demon King.
Of course a big fish shows up right out of the gate.
'The price of building in the Erjest Mountains?'
Meant to filter out heroes, but it seemed to draw even greater foes instead.
"How about disrupting the Hero March as much as possible, my lord?"
"How?"
"Isn't that why you bought off Granada?"
"He's for something bigger. Can't waste him lightly."
"Then buy demonic beasts with Magic Points and send them."
Not worth considering.
Heroes chosen by the world grew by hunting invaders. They leveled up fighting demonic beasts, demons, and Demon Kings.
That was the canon way, sure.
To hinder their march. To fatten them up for the kill.
Which only made it more repulsive.
"Rejected."
"Then we're out of options. If they come, we lose for sure. Why not hoard Magic Points from now on and use them to reduce Dimensional Interference?"
"A few months at best. Think that'll let you beat a hero who's already beheaded Demon Kings?"
Impossible. If it were, he wouldn't have died in his past life. Back then, he'd kidnapped princesses from countless nations, sown chaos, and reveled in infamy.
"So you'll just sit and wait to lose?"
"No. I'll use it."
"Use it how?"
"The Hero March. What a spectacle humans adore."
Berge knew its value well. Its ripple effects. The fame it brought.
He'd suffered it enough times.
"The perfect stage for a mercenary band with skills but no fame."
"Sending Granada?"
"I'd love to have humans cull humans."
Even money-grubbers wouldn't assassinate a Demon King-slayer basking in continental glory.
"Then what? They'll still come."
"Nothing."
Sending beasts only strengthened them. No proxies available. So do nothing.
That alone restrained their growth. A Hero March was a signal to Demon Kings: send your demons. To fuel their own ascent. Blocking that at the source meant outperforming the average, at least.
"To the heroes, that is."
"Pardon?"
"When the princess said she'd decorate the fourth floor, it got me thinking. Maybe I've been too stuck in the mold. Maybe I'm just another demon after all."
A doubt crept in.
Did he really need to burn Magic Points reinforcing the tower?
Keep traps running at a constant drain?
"What do you think of filling the tower with something other than demonic beasts?"
"What nonsense is that?"
Gordon paled.
"Don't tell me you're buying slaves again? Absolutely not! Never!"
"Why?"
"It's a tower! You're a Demon King! You can't entrust a Demon King's tower to mere humans!"
"What if they're dwarves, not humans?"
"Even worse! You know how stingy those runts are!"
"Short, yeah."
"Imagine those pathetic dwarves greeting heroes from a grand tower! What would the heroes think?"
"Laugh?"
He pictured the tower doors opening to reveal dwarves around 130cm tall. Pretty funny.
"Exactly! We lack intimidating demonic beasts as it is—trash like that?"
Demons craved fear, dread, rage, despair.
Would humans fear or despair at dwarves? No. They'd scoff and mock.
Something that must never happen.
"The throne atop the tower isn't for show. And those dwarves won't faithfully obey your commands!"
"Heard dwarves love money too."
"Not like humans, selling their souls for coin. They're sneakier, more infuriating."
"Stubborn bunch."
"And above all."
"Above all?"
"They're weak. Fine as beast fodder, but as tower guardians? No. A tower needs the strongest demonic beasts to face heroes!"
"Right. A tower needs the strong ones."
"Precisely! Now you sound like a proper Demon King."
Gordon nodded vigorously, relieved to have reined in his lord's folly.
"So we'll fill the first floor with dwarves."
"Gah!"
Gordon bit his tongue.
Not convinced at all!