082. Even Demon Kings Are Kings
“I’m delighted. To think I’d get to meet that famous person in the flesh. Truth be told, I wasn’t expecting much when I mentioned it.”
The prince laughed cheerfully.
“Famous, am I?”
“There was an incident during Lady Rozel’s experiment when your mana leaked out just once. The tower’s mages all sensed its purity and started digging into who it belonged to.”
Rumors spread like wildfire.
“My sister took quite a liking to it as well. She asked Lady Rozel several times, but Rozel was so firm about it.”
“Elf heart.”
Ravinia, who had been listening quietly, pointed at Granada’s heart.
“Hot.”
“Exactly. My sister said she could sense a bit of that energy in you too, Lord Granada. That’s actually what jogged my memory—that you and this gentleman named Pale had been in Tartarus.”
So that’s what she meant at our first meeting…
Hot in that sense.
She’s saying a fragment of the Demon King’s power resides in me?
Of course, he had spent time with the Demon King in his weakened state. He’d even unknowingly slipped into meditation beside that intensely pure mana, practicing his mana circulation technique.
But it was just mana—nothing more—and it should have dissipated quickly.
A trace must have lingered.
The fact that she’d picked up on it meant Ravinia’s mana sensitivity was astonishingly sharp.
Is that why she’s so friendly?
It was just a hunch, but it felt right.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Pale.”
“…Wow.”
And that hunch solidified into certainty in Ravinia’s eyes as she gazed at Berge, whose mana had activated the phoenix within.
“Show some respect to His Highness!”
The knight barked. Berge frowned at the veiled hostility.
What did I even say?
He’d arrived, been escorted, and exchanged greetings—saying he was pleased to meet them.
Didn’t think of this part.
Before his regression, and after, he’d met plenty of royalty. But he’d never once bothered with etiquette around them.
He was the Demon King, after all.
Because I’m the Demon King.
But right now, he wasn’t the Demon King Berge—he was human. Pale.
When facing royalty, even if they weren’t his own nation’s king, a baseline of courtesy was expected.
“……”
The problem was how utterly repulsive that felt.
Me, using honorifics with some snot-nosed human kid barely out of his teens?
No way in hell. The Demon King’s pride wouldn’t allow it.
“You show me some respect, you brainless knight.”
“What did you say?”
Berge’s hand shot out first at the knight’s stunned retort.
Crunch—
“Gahk…!”
“You bastard!”
The knight dangled in midair, thrashing as Berge gripped his throat. The other knights shouted and drew their weapons.
A barrage of multicolored auras flew at him. At the same instant, mana exploded outward from Berge, creating a repulsive force.
It didn’t shove the knights back or deal major damage. But it was enough.
“Stand down.”
Cain raised a hand. The knights hesitated.
“Who are you?”
“Someone who deserves the same respect as I do.”
“Royalty?”
Berge didn’t answer. He simply stared Cain down.
Silence fell. The air grew heavy.
“Hot.”
Ravinia stepped into the tension, beaming innocently up at Berge.
“What?”
“Super hot.”
“Hot, you say?”
“Fire. Here.”
Her fingertip pointed to his lower abdomen—right where his second heart slumbered, the phoenix’s mana.
“Amazing.”
“Y-Your Highness!”
“This way!”
The knights panicked. Cain let out a hollow chuckle.
But the mood lightened, at least a bit.
“Well, I apologize for our knight’s rudeness. Could you show mercy to a man on the brink of death?”
“Fine.”
The ashen-faced knight rolled on the ground, coughing. The others hauled him back to their side.
“Inviting you here without knowing much about you, Lord Pale, and letting rudeness occur—that’s my failure. I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
“Please, come inside.”
A simple table was set in a small garden. The two royals, Berge, and Granada took their seats.
“You clearly don’t wish to reveal your nation, so I won’t pry. Plenty of royals have their reasons.”
“Appreciated. And I apologize for my own rudeness.”
“I accept it gratefully.”
Just then, a maid brought tea and refreshments. Cain took a sip and spoke.
“First off, thank you for accepting my invitation. I asked on a whim since Lord Granada mentioned a connection, but I didn’t expect you’d come so readily.”
“Building good ties with Akan Kingdom’s royals benefits me too.”
“Indeed.”
Cain’s eyes sparkled.
He’d caught two things in Berge’s words: that Pale wasn’t purely altruistic, and that he was at least open to a positive relationship for his own ends.
“I wanted to meet you because I sensed your mana.”
“I heard. The whole magic tower found out about the mana I gave Rozel Charnt, huh?”
“Mana that pure? First I’ve seen outside of spirits. At first, I thought it was a fire spirit. You can imagine my shock when Lady Rozel said it was yours.”
Cain wasn’t a mage, but pure mana wasn’t just for mages.
“I’m dying to know how you got it, but asking would be rude, right?”
“Very.”
“Haha, just testing.”
Then Ravinia, who’d been quiet, held out her hand.
“Mana. Gimme.”
Crazy bitch.
“Why the hell should I?”
“Want it.”
“You want it? Tough.”
“Rozel.”
“Rozel Charnt traded fairly for that mana.”
“Me too. Trade.”
“A trade? No reason to refuse. What can you offer me?”
Ravinia pondered briefly, then reached into her subspace. When her hand emerged, it held a gleaming red scale.
“Scale.”
“Red drake? Don’t need it.”
“Horn?”
“Same.”
She pulled out something else—a still-twitching heart.
So the princess carried this around. Her room must be no different.
“Werewolf heart?”
“Yeah.”
“What would I even do with it?”
“Chimera?”
“Don’t lump me in with you.”
“I make.”
“You’ll make me a chimera?”
“Yeah. Horn, heart, scale.”
“Using those three.”
That piqued his interest. Not greed for the chimera itself, but after hearing from Ernan about their significance, Berge wanted to study one himself.
Especially if handmade by Ravinia Akan, the chimera-making prodigy.
But accepting outright risked the prince’s gaze. Chimeras weren’t popular publicly.
“Sister, not many people like chimeras.”
“Don’t like?”
“Of course not.”
Cain added to Berge, “If they don’t appeal, I can contact home for gold or any treasure you desire.”
“Awfully generous for mere mana.”
“Not ‘mere.’ No mage in Akan could resist it.”
“Money, huh. How much do you think I’ll ask for?”
“No idea. But as a prince, I have some authority.”
He was tempted. More money was always better.
“Fine.”
He didn’t refuse.
“I’d like money, treasure, and the chimera.”
The Demon King hid nothing of his greed.
“Thrilled you accept.”
“How much are you thinking?”
“Whatever you want—I’ll match it as best I can. Why not discuss details properly later?”
Gonna milk this dry?
Berge chuckled dryly. Fair enough—human royals didn’t do losing deals.
“Any amount.”
Neither did he.
One concern: Rozel Charnt’s growth from his mana.
Why not just make an enemy of her?
If I build ties with Akan now?
If Pale became a friendly figure to Akan…
He could maneuver them. Open up more possibilities.
“Nice.”
“Shut up.”
After Ravinia’s nonsense, Berge changed the subject.
“Heard you’re hunting the Demon King’s tower.”
“Yes. Some concerns, so we’re preparing thoroughly. Ah, would you join us?”
To Cain, Pale’s strength was no joke. In the harsh Erjest, every strong hand counted.
“Afraid not. Didn’t come for that.”
“I overstepped. Sorry.”
“What preparations, though?”
“Sorry again, but can’t say unless you join.”
“Not joining over that.”
“Hm, thought you’d bite. Tough nut.”
The talk dragged on until dusk. Finally, Cain wrapped up.
“Shall we call it? Dinner together later?”
“I’ll join.”
“Yes. Escort them to the annex.”
Berge and Granada left with the knights.
“Contact home—dig into this royal named Pale. Check every nation.”
“Yes.”
Cain’s eyes sharpened.
Berge and Granada reached their assigned annex. Confirming no one nearby, Granada exhaled sharply.
“Thought I’d die of nerves.”
“Anyone’d think you were talking.”
“Not that, but how do you even understand the princess?”
“Can’t get that? You’re an elf—your language skills that bad?”
“That’s unfair.”
Put it to a hundred humans: more would fail to understand than succeed.
“You’re not human. You’re elf.”
“…You leave me speechless.”
Tsking, Granada shifted topics.
“Oh, right—so you are royalty?”
“Demon Kings are kings too.”
“Always wondered. Are Demon Kings really Ma-gye royalty?”
“Nah. Just vanguard officers. Like human officers.”
“Then why ‘Demon King’?”
“Scare factor. ‘Ma-gye officer invades’ vs. ‘Demon King invades’—which hits harder?”
“Really just that?”
“Works great for something so simple.”
“Fair…”
“Humans started calling us that first anyway. Thousands of years ago, one world’s humans screamed ‘Demon King’ in terror. We adopted it.”
Not that it mattered in Alein anymore.
“Great being your subordinate—clears up my biggest curiosity. So you’re not royalty either, my lord?”
“Demon Kings are Ma-gye’s elite. Power-wise, no different from kings.”
Enough to rip that smug smirk off your face.
“…No jokes, huh?”
“We’re not buddy-buddy for banter.”
“…Tch.”
Granada’s lip drooped.
“Anyway, what’s this ‘preparation’?”
“No clue. They won’t tell me.”
“Seriously?”
“How would I know the bigwigs’ plans? Just that monsters raid at night, so they’re prepping for that, probably.”
“Hm.”
Attack by day, then?
< 082. Even Demon Kings Are Kings > End