146. Do We Really Need Two?
After hearing words from Jason Cockmond that were tantamount to a death sentence, Vivian didn't have many options left.
The demonkin and monsters she had led were mostly slaughtered by the assault teams. All that remained were the pirates and the magic points piling up from their infamy, but she doubted they could hold off the heroes instigated by the dwarves.
Vivian tried her best to stay calm and devise a plan.
With so little accomplished, her choices were few.
Just two.
Die gloriously in battle like a proper Demon King.
Or cling pathetically to someone and survive by any means.
She chose the latter.
Because she wanted to live.
Some might curse her, asking where she'd sold her Demon King's pride, but she was willing to endure that humiliation if it meant staying alive.
"Help me."
She decided to reach out with every last option she had.
"I swear on the great first Mahwang and the Demon King's Canon. I never kidnapped the dwarf princess or her artisans."
But the response was ice-cold.
If she didn't know, she wouldn't be begging like this. She wouldn't be pleading with this brutish Titan she despised so much.
"If you help me, I'll give you anything I can."
"Ugar Belbek!"
"Would you!"
"Would you just accept death quietly!"
The giant's mocking laughter crushed Vivian's pride to the depths. Still, she forced her expression to hold.
This wasn't why she'd risked her life to graduate from the Demon King Academy.
Not why she'd become the Succubus Queen and led her clan as one of its pillars.
Not why she'd conquered one dimension and moved to the next.
She hadn't come this far just to die so pointlessly.
She wanted to live.
Even if it meant rolling in hellhound shit, this world was better.
And so, she made an offer no ordinary Demon King would ever consider—a forbidden condition.
"...If you want, I could even become your familiar."
"Think I'm just blurting it out without knowing?"
"......"
It was humiliating mockery, but she endured. It was fine. As long as she could live. If she died, she wouldn't even feel this rage.
But.
"...What?"
"You muscle-brained piece of trash...!"
Vivian, cut off from contact, collapsed like a puppet with severed strings.
With trembling hands, she desperately reached out to another Demon King.
But the next one was the same.
"Then at least make me your familiar...!"
She shuddered under the cold gaze of contempt.
And that was how the plea reached Berge.
'Good lord.'
How low would this idiot Demon King sink?
Even as a victim of the butterfly effect Berge had caused, it was laughable to see a Demon King begging to become another's familiar just to survive.
On the other side of the communication orb, Vivian clutched her head and sobbed.
Tears mixed with snot dripping into her mouth—it was hard to believe this was the haughty Succubus Queen.
Berge unwittingly voiced his honest thoughts.
"Pathetic. Don't you have any pride as a Demon King?"
"You know my situation and still spout this?"
Vivian was in dire straits, but so was Berge. If anything, Berge might be in worse shape.
"And?"
"What do you mean?"
"Get to the point."
"Just born this way."
"You're driving me crazy."
This was some next-level arm-twisting. Still, Berge didn't cut the connection because, well, it wasn't a bad deal.
Familiar.
To demonkin, a familiar wasn't just a subordinate. Their souls bound, becoming the lord's absolute slave.
Even stickier, deeper, and stronger than soul contracts between humans and demons—that was a demon-to-demon familiar bond.
Once a familiar, betrayal was impossible.
'Even if a succubus's combat power lags behind other races, she's still a Demon King.'
Even frail humans could fight demons if they scaled the walls. Regardless of her current ugliness, Vivian Blunt couldn't be confined to "just a succubus."
Besides, her familiars would serve Berge alongside her. It would bolster his sorely lacking forces.
Berge, who only had Krutoo—the orc he'd awakened Gordon for—would finally have proper demonkin familiars.
Of course, it wasn't all upside.
'The arrows aimed at Vivian will turn to me.'
That was Ugar's concern.
But.
'Should I worry? Really?'
If this operation succeeded, the tower could leave its spot and hide deeper. Their rage would echo emptily, nowhere to go.
The fiercer, the more magic points it'd farm for Berge.
"...But if you become my familiar, what happens to your tower?"
Towers were linked to their Demon Kings. If the king died, they forcibly recalled and vanished.
But if the king didn't die, just became another's familiar?
Could a Demon King subsumed by another still lord over their tower?
'If the tower stays, when Vivian comes to me, she'll abandon it. If humans destroy the core then...?'
The tower had a core too. At the top, the Demon King's throne—that was its heart.
Never destroyed before, but what if it was?
Sensing the subtle positive vibe in his tone, Vivian clung even more desperately.
If a Demon King died and the tower vanished, the protection over their familiars vanished too.
They'd face dimensional interference—the storm of another world—bare, reduced to worse than low demons even if high demons.
One escape: Serve a new demon lord for new protection.
Her old tower? Vivian couldn't care less.
"...I'll visit your tower soon."
"I have my own stuff to do. Hero hunts take months from decision to execution—stay put."
"I swear on the great first Mahwang and the Demon King's Canon—that won't happen."
This time, it was real. No reason to refuse gifts rolling in. A bit annoying, but they'd be solid power.
"See you later."
As Berge moved to end the call, he paused.
A problem he'd been mulling before Vivian's call resurfaced.
"Ah. Wait."
Berge's gaze shifted above Vivian's head.
She shuddered at the inscrutable look.
"Those horns."
"Do we really need two?"
She could offer one as a sign of submission, right?
"Unfortunately, we can't do business."
"We have plenty of that in our guild too."
"I thought the rising Golden Moon Guild from Ias would bring something special—color me disappointed."
"Jetoson? Isn't that the bastard who scammed Berft's princess and ruined trust with Akan merchants?"
Three days after arriving in Akan's capital, Jetoson—who'd been approaching guilds delivering to the magic tower—got rejected every time.
His notoriety from fleeing the magic market ugly didn't help, but the real issue was they saw no value in trading with him.
Akan's capital had rare magic materials from across the continent. Satisfying them required fitting payment, and Golden Moon had none.
'Damn it. Their necks are so stiff. They mages? Just merchants trying to act superior.'
It burned him how they appraised like they were the mages themselves.
But he couldn't argue—he was clearly the beggar here.
'Need a big score. Something so rare those arrogant pricks beg me...'
Akan's mages and towers held sway; guilds were just connections. Mages decided, and they went mad for rare magic materials.
That was when it happened.
"Mr. Jetoson."
"What is it?"
"Headquarters sent goods."
"Goods?"
The merchant handed over a small box. The ornate wooden case bore various magic engravings.
'Magic engravings?'
Engravings on storage were for valuables needing care or dangers needing isolation.
"What's this?"
"No idea. But they said deliver this case and letter to you."
"Letter?"
Jetoson took the paper and read slowly.
"......!"
Click—
Finishing in one gulp, he urgently opened the box.
He swallowed hard at the surging ominous aura. The delivering merchant collapsed in instinctive terror.
"Wh-what is that?"
"What else..."
A glossy dark-red horn imprinted in his pupils. Incredibly beautiful.
"The treasure that'll make us the bosses."
"...What are you doing now?"
"Lip exercises. Gotta loosen up for a good hustle."
Finishing his stretches, Jetoson stood.
"Prep the carriage. Heading to the magic tower now."
If this matched the letter's description, no need for guilds.