022. How the Hell Am I Supposed to Put Up With This?
“······.”
Hillun opened his eyes.
It was pitch black and suffocating. Damp and filthy.
The foul stench made his nose wrinkle instinctively. His head throbbed at the back of his skull. As he reached for it on reflex, the clank of chains halted his movement.
Ah.
Only then did Hillun fully grasp his situation. His limbs were bound, his mana sealed.
He had been a hero, but now he was little more than a prisoner.
The last moment flashed in his mind.
The woman who had greeted him wearing an eyemask fit for a masquerade ball.
She had introduced herself as a subordinate of the Demon King, a dark spirit sorceress—but how could he not know?
Platinum hair like the symbol of the Hildean royal family.
Amethyst eyes with an otherworldly allure that stuck in the memory after one glance.
She was unmistakably the crown princess of Hildean, Ernan Hildean. The very target he was supposed to rescue.
Why a princess?
He couldn’t understand it.
The Demon King kidnaps the princess.
The hero fights the Demon King to save her.
That was the truth. That had been the truth.
Hillun had climbed countless towers as a hero, but this was a first.
“You’re awake?”
“···Lord Granada.”
He wasn’t the only guest in the cell. Granada, bound in much the same way and looking equally haggard, opened his eyes.
Damn it all.
Why the hell do I have to deal with this crap?
Granada grumbled inwardly.
His mission should have ended once Hillun was captured. But the Demon King had thrown him in here with the hero.
—Nothing loosens tongues like a weakened human. Lock yourself up with him and dig what you can.
What’s he planning to do with a hero?
This was Hillun Kargil, no less—a hero with a record of slaying a Demon King.
They’d caught him relatively easily this time using the princess as bait, but there was no guarantee it would work again.
It wasn’t his place as an elf to say, but from the Demon King’s perspective, leaving him alive was bound to breed future trouble.
No way he plans to recruit him as a subordinate like me.
Granada couldn’t help but scoff at the absurdity of his own thought.
A hero as a Demon King’s minion? Ridiculous.
But what was up with that dwarf?
Why was a dwarf tinkering with mana cannons in a Demon King’s tower?
And he seemed like a hero, too.
“Are you all right?”
“My head’s pounding. My body won’t move, and my mana’s completely unresponsive.”
“Same here.”
“I remember the crown princess appearing. But I can’t recall what hit me.”
“Me neither···.”
“This is troubling. All of it.”
Hillun sighed. Things had been smooth sailing right up until they reached Hotenwork. How had it come to this?
“There’s something off about this tower.”
Hillun had started making a real name for himself after slaying the Lust Demon King, but he’d scaled plenty of towers before that.
And every tower had one thing in common.
“The first floor has monsters and traps.”
“The second has stronger monsters and traps.”
“The third has even stronger ones.”
That was normal. It wasn’t just his experience—it was an unbreakable rule spanning centuries since Demon Kings first descended.
So why this tower?
“The first floor had mana cannons and ballistae.”
No one could have seen it coming. Everything but Hillun and Granada had been obliterated in that one blast.
“What the hell were those doing in a tower?”
“···No idea.”
“Exactly. You couldn’t know, Lord Granada. No one could.”
If that had been it, he might have shrugged it off. Mana cannons were just another obstacle, after all, and once he slew the Demon King and rescued the princess, it’d become a funny anecdote—“Yeah, that happened.”
But.
“If the first floor had that surprise, the second had nothing.”
“Same for the third. And when we reached the fourth···.”
Crunch—
A trickle of blood seeped from Hillun’s mouth.
“Why the princess, of all things!”
Unbearable rage pounded in his chest.
“Why side with the Demon King and turn against the hero who came to save her!”
His quiet grumbling swelled into a roar.
“After I came all this way!”
“After all I’ve done!”
“After everything I went through to make this hero gig a success!”
The torrent of frustration soon ebbed.
Kuhuhuhu.
And then he burst into mad laughter.
“You know what?”
“···Pardon? What···.”
“We haven’t encountered a single monster or demon since entering this tower.”
A twisted smile crept across his face.
“In a Demon King’s tower! Instead of the usual, we get a princess turning on the hero! What the fuck is wrong with this goddamn tower!”
“···I understand.”
Understand? Hell yeah, he did. Granada had been baffled just hearing it in real time—what must the guy who lived it feel like?
“This is the Demon King’s tower. And I am its master.”
The voice came from outside the cell.
There he stood amid the dim prison lighting.
Black eyes, black hair. Inhumanly close to human, yet radiating an overwhelming pressure no human could possess.
“Nice to meet you, Hillun Kargil.”
Berze smiled.
It was fresh. Thrilling.
Hillun Kargil.
This pathetic sight was something he’d never witnessed in his past or present lives combined.
Hillun’s defeat was never supposed to happen.
He’d always commanded vast renown and endless success. Right up until the day Berze was slain, he’d reigned as one of the greatest heroes.
But not now.
Berze couldn’t hide his grin.
This wasn’t just capturing a hero. He’d clipped the wings of one who’d soared higher.
It was something that never happened before. Fate had been altered.
That’s why Berze was uncharacteristically excited. His first meaningful achievement.
Proof that his choices weren’t wrong.
Finally.
The certainty that he could change the future.
That he could succeed in his revenge.
“It’s you.”
Hillun’s eyes flashed.
“You! It’s you!”
“If you mean the tower’s master, then yes, that’s me.”
“You fucking bastard. I’d chew you up and spit you out, you shit-eating prick.”
“I heard Hillun Kargil was always upstanding, polite, and respectful.”
“Bullshit. You look like you’re begging to die, and you want manners? What the hell’s wrong with this tower! If you’re a Demon King, act like one—put out some monsters and traps!”
“I did set traps. No monsters, but they snared you pretty damn well.”
“That wasn’t Demon King material at all, you prick.”
Hillun sneered.
“You’ve ruined me. Even if I get out alive, the creditors hounding me won’t be just a couple.”
“Pathetic to go bankrupt over one failure. You’re Hillun Kargil, aren’t you?”
“You demons wouldn’t get it. Worse than demons are those money-grubbing ghosts. You have no idea how much cash I’ve poured into networking, or how much more I’ve got coming. Just thinking about what I owe makes my head spin.”
“Didn’t know that.”
It was news to him.
He knew humans went mad for money, killing kin and family over it—but a top hero shackled by debt?
Lesson learned.
And at that moment, Berze considered a possibility.
What if this guy too?
Killing intent surged.
The Demon King’s blood still screamed to slaughter every last hero, fueled by memories from before his regression.
This wasn’t like Roger. Unlike that un-heroic dwarf, Hillun Kargil was the real deal.
In a head-on fight at full strength, even Berze couldn’t guarantee victory right now.
But he held back because those weren’t the ones who’d killed and mocked him.
Because there was precedent with Roger.
If I use a hero to bring down Alein.
Block the heroes who ridiculed me with another hero.
Wouldn’t that be the ultimate scenario? The perfect revenge?
The thought alone sent shivers of delight through him.
But Berze didn’t broach it yet. Timing was everything.
A wounded beast trusted no one but its parents—wait until it weakened further.
“Looks like his fangs aren’t pulled yet.”
“You thinking of using him as leverage to negotiate with the kingdoms? Why not just kill him?”
“I decide that. Better to break his spirit first—give it time.”
Berze left the cell.
“Let’s escape.”
Once his back vanished completely, Hillun reverted to his former self.
“Sorry for the disgraceful display. The situation got to me. But venting cleared my head a bit.”
“Ah, sure.”
Granada nodded blankly.
“He’s keeping us alive, so no immediate execution. Probably plans to ransom me to the kingdoms— we strike then.”
“Got a way?”
“Been ready for a while.”
Creeeak—
The mana-sealing shackles and cuffs tore free under brute force.
“······!”
“These artifacts can’t fully restrain me. I gathered mana bit by bit while talking to the Demon King.”
“My god.”
A real monster.
Hillun ripped Granada’s restraints off too.
“But I can’t face the Demon King like this—we slip out undetected.”
“What about the princess?”
“Fuck that crazy bitch—who cares? I came to save her, and she traps the hero? If I had proof, I could’ve bled Hildean dry for compensation. That’s my only regret.”
Muttering, Hillun bent the iron bars.
“Lucky for us the arrogant bastard didn’t post guards. Let’s move.”
“R-right.”
What do I do?
Granada had to stop them. But he wasn’t at full strength either. He’d follow quietly and bide his time.
Shh—
Hillun pressed his ear to the iron door cautiously.
“No sounds for now. Open it slow? I’ll keep listening.”
“Got it.”
Granada eased the door open.
“···Fuck.”
“Colorful language. Shame if the humans knew your true colors.”
“Why are you···?”
“Think I wouldn’t notice your little act? Impressive, though. Ripping those off for real—worthy of Hillun Kargil.”
“Damn you!”
Hillun swung a fist. It was effortlessly blocked. A burly hand crushed it and hurled him aside.
“Lord Granada!”
Hillun tumbled across the floor, yelling. His desperate voice and steely gaze spurred Granada—he lashed out at the Demon King without thinking.
Smack—
“Gaaack!”
He paid for it, spewing blood as he flew. And then he saw it.
“Sorry, Lord Granada! Fight like an elf, please! I’ll avenge you!”
The hero who’d sworn to fight together, now fleeing with eyes averted.
“······.”
“That’s a new one.”
“···Isn’t he a total asshole?”
“A dog biting its master and a hero ditching his ally. Hard to say who’s worse.”
“···I was just doing my best on the mission. You told me to help the hero, didn’t you, my lord?”
“We’ll call it that.”
“Not chasing him?”
“Was too absurd—forgot for a sec.”
Berze chuckled wryly and lumbered after the hero.
* * *
Hillun bolted up the stairs. His weakened body panted quickly, but he had no time to spare.
Good—no monsters in sight.
He was certain. None up to the fourth floor, no guards either. Maybe this Demon King’s tower had no monsters at all.
Can’t let my guard down. Mana cannons and a princess—this place could have more bullshit hidden.
Nothing would surprise him now. He was ready.
At least the tower’s layout is standard.
The prison was underground. One floor up, past the debris-filled first floor, and he’d be free.
“Hope the elf holds out as long as possible···!”
He’d be furious at the betrayal, but elves hated demons. He’d stick to his duty.
This is why I like elves.
The revenge promise wasn’t empty. He’d return and settle this humiliation.
He opened the door to the first floor. Expecting it empty, he found a visitor.
“You?”
Short stature. Stubby hands.
“The hero who climbed to the fourth floor? The bastard who wrecked my masterpieces?”
The dwarf in the center of the first floor muttered with venomous eyes.
“The Demon King said it. The mana cannons fell short—didn’t do their job. So no reward for now.”
Grip—
The dwarf’s hand tightened on his hammer.
“Because of you!”
“I can’t salvage the tower!”
The dwarf hero charged, hammer raised.
Hillun stared blankly. He was too dumbfounded to even sigh.
He’d thought nothing could surprise him.
“Fuck, now it’s a hero?”
How the hell was he supposed to endure this?