< 080. Of Course That's How It Would Be >
“He said to contact him anytime if you need help?”
“Yes.”
The sudden message relayed from Jason heightened Berge's wariness.
“That means we can assume he knows what's happening right in front of us now, right?”
“Yes. That's what I think.”
“How did he find out?”
“He must have connections among the humans, no?”
It wasn't even necessary to involve high-ranking officials. Ravinia Akan had climbed the Erjest Mountains alone, and Akan's forces had followed, exposing their identities.
“Of course, Your Majesty must have your own thoughts, but you mustn't accept such goodwill at face value.”
Gordon's advice was only natural.
Demon Kings, rivals to one another, helping out of pure goodwill? Absurd.
'But with Jason, there's a chance he genuinely wants to help.'
Not out of pure intentions, though.
“For now, send a vague reply saying we get it.”
“Yes.”
“No word from Granada?”
“Not yet. There are a few heroes mixed in with Akan's group, so he's being cautious.”
Knock knock—
At that moment, Ernan peeked her head through the door.
“Your Majesty, Krutoo is here.”
“On my way.”
Berge rose from his seat.
“Be careful.”
“Yeah.”
He gave a casual reply and headed down to the first floor. Roger, loaded with tools, and Krutoo, carrying supplies, were waiting. Dozens of Frost Orcs stood with them.
“Let's go.”
“Yes.”
They rode the frost wolves the orcs had brought. Roger, sitting in front of Krutoo, asked, “Like last time?”
“Yeah.”
Last time had been when they welcomed Hillon Kargil. They'd set up cannons along the hero party's predicted route and triggered an avalanche.
Thanks to that, the heroes' morale had plummeted, making it relatively easy to hold them off.
“How's progress on the golem core?”
“Mana and magic points are completely different. Their properties and fundamentals are incompatible, so the magical structure, circuits—everything for the core has to be redesigned from scratch.”
“Your mouth's already running long, so it's not looking good, huh?”
“...About 1, 1%?”
“Did you even do any research?”
Berge's face twisted.
He understood devoting more time to the mana cannons and configuring the first floor, but this was basically zero progress.
“Didn't you say you're versed in alchemy and enchantment magic?”
“Mana-based magic and magic point-based magic are worlds apart. I'm self-teaching an entirely new field here.”
“And?”
“...Well, not just that, but if you could acknowledge my efforts a bit...”
“Hit 10% in two weeks, and I'll give you some tower accessories.”
“This Roger vows on his fame as Berft's greatest artisan and his very life! Entrust it to me!”
This dwarf was always easy to handle.
“Krutoo. How are the tribesmen holding up?”
“Yes. Some warriors who fought alongside us were frightened by the chimera monstrosity, but they overcame it with Your Majesty's majesty.”
“Good.”
Orcs lived for battle, so fear wasn't a big issue.
'Come to think of it, I haven't paid them much attention.'
Just let them loose in the fields to grow on their own. That was the extent of it.
Of course, he'd given them elixirs and the heart from the Prison Drake they'd hunted.
“Are the tribesmen satisfied?”
“Yes. Thanks to Your Majesty, the tribe grows daily, our territory expands. Loyalty to you soars higher than the heavens.”
“Tough monsters giving trouble?”
“None. Who would dare stand against the power Your Majesty bestowed?”
“Hm.”
It felt like staring at die-hard Ma-gye zealots worshiping the Mahwang.
Not bad, but a bit embarrassing. Before regression, maybe not, but now he knew how insignificant he was in Alein.
“Claiming Erjest is fine. But stay out of the northeast.”
“Yes. I shall obey.”
Krutoo asked nothing, as usual.
“Something rotten like spoiled soup lurks there. No good comes from dealing with it—steer clear.”
“Yes.”
Berge added the note, and Krutoo bowed his head.
They rode for a while before reaching the destination—one of the paths leading up the mountain.
A nudge to the snow piled high above, and it would come crashing down, swallowing Akan's forces.
“Set up the mana cannons here.”
The Frost Orcs unloaded the cannons they'd carried.
“Your Majesty, I've been thinking.”
“What?”
“Instead of a crude avalanche, why not concentrate the mana cannons here and sweep them with firepower?”
“We can't let them know I'm using mana cannons. You want to broadcast your existence to the humans?”
“Just keep it secret, right?”
“You don't think they'll recognize mana cannons?”
“Of course not that, but as long as my secret stays hidden? And...”
“Corpses don't talk?”
“Exactly! Blast them with dozens of cannons at once—they won't even scream. Any survivors, the orcs mop up.”
“...”
Who was the Demon King here?
It was a good plan, but unfortunately unusable.
“Rejected.”
“Pardon?”
“Akan's prince and princess are with them. Killing them now isn't right.”
No matter Erjest, they wouldn't die easily—suspicion would fall on Berge.
“Ah, I see...”
Roger sighed in disappointment.
“But I promise you this: one day, your tower's mana cannons will annihilate a hero party.”
“...I'll count the days!”
Roger's face lit up.
'Ernan, Akan's princess, and now this guy.'
Why did they all seem off?
'Why am I, the Demon King, worrying about this?'
He dropped the odd thought.
* * *
“Hm.”
Granada swallowed a groan. The situation was overwhelmingly burdensome.
“Is the food not to your taste?”
“No, it's delicious.”
It tasted fine. He just couldn't tell if it was going in his mouth or his nose.
Because of the two pairs of red eyes fixed on him.
'Princess on one side, prince on the other. And over there, the Blue Meteor Mage Captain and White Wolf Knight Captain.'
When had he last drawn so much attention from royalty and nobles?
He'd gotten plenty at Hildean banquets, but this was different.
“Eat more.”
A hefty chunk of meat speared on a fork landed on Granada's plate. The small white hand belonged to Ravinia.
“Yes, thank you.”
“My sister really seems to like you, Granada.”
“...Ahem.”
“...Hm.”
The watching prince chuckled merrily; the knight and mage swallowed uncomfortable grunts.
Chomp chomp chomp—
And behind them, a massive titan devoured meat greedily.
It was like sitting on thorns.
He'd agreed to meet to ask about Erjest, hadn't he?
“Eat more.”
“Too much.”
“Even more.”
Another piece piled on. Meat already towered on Granada's plate.
Under the hot gazes, he had no choice but to pop a piece in. He chewed moderately, swallowed, and dabbed sauce from his lips with a napkin.
“I heard you had questions about Erjest.”
“Ah, yes. That was the purpose.”
Cain set down his knife.
“Before coming here, I investigated Hero Hillon's exploits. The most shocking part was monsters attacking the hero party every night.”
Not just sending beasts—they'd harassed nightly. It evoked the worst assumption: a Demon King commanding Erjest's monsters.
“What was it like? Did it really seem like the Demon King controlled the mountains' monsters? Was the whole range his domain?”
“Haven't you already heard?”
“But those heroes weren't survivors like you, Granada.”
Hm.
Granada pondered.
How to satisfy Cain without harming the Demon King?
Obvious lies would breed suspicion.
“I can't say for sure.”
“Well, without ties to the Demon King, you couldn't. I'm not expecting that. Just tell me what you experienced, felt—unfiltered.”
“We wandered the mountains for over a month searching for the tower.”
“Yes.”
“And without fail, monsters attacked every night.”
“How many?”
“Many. At least hundreds.”
“Hundreds of monsters swarming every day?”
“Yes.”
Most of those hundreds were Frost Orcs herding others; only a few directly attacked. But that didn't matter.
Hundreds had come—that was fact.
'But won't they give up entirely like this?'
Would the Demon King be pleased?
“...My god, are all the mountains' monsters really the Demon King's minions?”
Cain groaned. The Blue Meteor Mage Captain denied it.
“Impossible. If a tower lasted centuries, maybe, but a Demon King summoned just a year ago? No way.”
“But we have a witness.”
“If possible, the continent would have fallen to Demon Kings long ago.”
“Ah... true.”
Cain nodded vigorously.
“Then what is it?”
The mage turned to Granada instead.
“Granada, what were the main monsters in those hordes?”
“Frost Orcs.”
“They only attacked at night?”
“Yes.”
“As expected!”
“You have an idea?”
“As Your Highness knows, orcs live in tribes. Strict hierarchy—tribesmen follow the chief's orders to the death.”
“I see. Control one chief, and you control hordes of orcs?”
“Exactly. And attacks only at night? Huge clue.”
“How so?”
“Demons invented mind magic, but not all master it. Especially the Flame Demon King—his power is fire.”
“Yes.”
“So he's surely weak in mind magic. He can only control orcs at night, when demonic power peaks.”
“Ah...! Then...”
Daytime would be easier.
Night risky, but far better than total despair.
“Not easy, but guard nights well, and scouting the mountains is feasible. The hero party lasted a month, after all.”
“Especially since most were Frost Orcs.”
Frost Orcs weren't weak. United under a chief, they were nightmarish.
But relative. Better than hundreds of yetis, Prison Drakes, twin-head trolls, or werewolves.
“Maybe Frost Orcs were just herding other monsters. Losing hundreds nightly for a month? That'd be tens of thousands—impossible.”
“True.”
They neared the truth quickly.
“Then we'll strategize accordingly.”
“Contact home for magic gear airlift.”
“Yes. Oh, Granada. Remember the path up the mountains? Be our guide.”
“Well...”
Per Berge's plan, claim memory fuzzy from wandering.
“Of course you do. Elves are closest to nature of any race. I've never heard one forget a path.”
“Oh?”
“A high elf I know said elves losing their way is either intentional or brain damage.”
“...I remember everything.”
But he couldn't say it. The mage spoke truth.
“Then we can rule out a huge area, no matter how long.”
“Yes, tailored to the terrain...”
Prince and mage dove into heated discussion.
“...”
'Did I say something wrong?'
Granada fell silent.
For some reason, he lacked the face to meet Berge.
< 080. Of Course That's How It Would Be > End