#002 Summoning
#002 Summoning
Demon King Belphegor.
About five hundred years ago, the terrifying Demon King who nearly conquered the Human Realm.
A demonic dragon who cut off the heads of those who called themselves heroes and hung them from the castle walls, decorating the Demon King's castle with no fewer than 108 corpses.
In the end, even such a being fell to a hero's hand.
The Demon King who was called the strongest of his era, who had reached the very brink of world domination, was struck down by a Holy Sword.
So then, what was that Demon King doing now?
Nothing.
Na-dah.
He did nothing at all.
Holed up in the territory of the Demon Realm, he spends his days doing nothing but sleeping, day after day.
Demonfolk are immortal unless their cores are destroyed in battle, and no one dares even think of fighting Belphegor.
Belphegor possesses the power to face two Demon Kings alone.
Belphegor possesses the power to take three Demon Kings down with him in mutual destruction.
If one wished to kill Belphegor, at least four Demon Kings would have to join forces and fight together.
And of those, at least two or three Demon Kings would die.
Though Belphegor held such overwhelming power, he had no interest in ruling the Demon Realm.
In the deepest part of hell, in a dark place where ordinary Demonfolk could not so much as set foot, he simply slept his time away.
And so the inhabitants of the Demon Realm hold two contradictory assessments of Demon King Belphegor.
The Demon King who reigns but does not rule.
The Demon King who lost to a hero and lost all will to live.
Though Belphegor himself did not care either way.
The reason I knew this was simple: I was Belphegor.
"Haaah."
For the first time in a long while, I lay on a bed in a human body.
Whatever other Demonfolk said about Belphegor, it was none of my concern.
'What a bother.'
Once, I poured everything into conquering the Middle Realm and advancing the Demonfolk.
I ground up my life, my soul, and everything I had, driving humanity to the very brink of defeat.
But I lost.
As if it were a law of the world that a Demon King must ultimately fall to a hero, I was defeated and struck down by a human hero wielding a Holy Sword and the three other-race heroes who supported him.
"......."
The heart that was pierced by the Holy Sword still throbs.
Even though five hundred years had passed, the phantom pain still pounded in my chest, forcing the memory of that day back to the surface.
That day was especially bad.
Perhaps it was because that day marked exactly five hundred years since I had been summoned to the Middle Realm.
'Those really were the days.'
The golden age of my demonic existence.
I enjoyed immense wealth and authority that I could never have had in the Demon Realm.
I indulged in every luxury imaginable.
Who among the Demonfolk had ever captured both an Elf Queen and a Fairy Queen at the same time?
What Demonfolk has ever stolen a kiss from a Saintess right before the eyes of the church's priests?
Who among the Demonfolk had ever taken a female Hero—her life, that is—right in front of her childhood-friend mage?
There had been one or two.
Countless Demonfolk besides me had been summoned to the Middle Realm, and there had certainly been several other Demon King-class beings among them.
But no Demonfolk achieved what I did.
There was no one among the Demonfolk greater than me.
From what I occasionally overheard from Demonfolk summoned to the Middle Realm, the Great Demon King Belphegor still carried enough weight that the mere name made Demonfolk tremble.
'I really did make quite a splash, didn't I?'
Humanity's first-ever alliance was historically formed to oppose my Demon King Army.
Summoned by some Black Mage, I seized the Black Mage's body and made it my own, and I succeeded in summoning my "true body" to the Middle Realm.
The Middle Realm is a place Demonfolk cannot enter freely.
After the Celestial-Demon War, the Celestials erected a barrier around the Middle Realm that even they themselves could not enter, and so Demonfolk became unable to enter the Middle Realm except through special means.
The case where a being of the Middle Realm formally summons one.
Through the method commonly called the "Demon Summoning Ritual," I was summoned by a Black Mage and raised absolute hell in the Middle Realm.
If I were asked to do it again....
'What a bother.'
Burnout.
I had already poured out everything I had.
And then, in a single moment, it all came to nothing because of a Hero.
I realized it.
No matter how hard the Demonfolk try to invade the Middle Realm, in the end a hero will step forward and settle everything.
No matter how deep underground they hide and build dungeons, no matter how they build a Demon King's castle and fill it with subordinates to keep the hero from reaching them, no matter how they slaughter every human in sight.
A hero suddenly springs out from somewhere and kills the Demon King.
Whether the Celestials intervene, or whether that oh-so-glorious goddess sends just anyone as a hero, someone takes up a "Holy Sword" and kills Demonfolk.
When a Holy Sword blazes out its light with a "WHOOSH—," the Demonfolk simply have to die with a "SQUEEEAL—!"
That is what a Holy Sword is, what a hero is, and what the fate of Demonfolk is.
And yet.
"Hey, Sloth. Let's pull off one big job."
"Piss off."
A demon with long green hair, wearing a white gown and a monocle—"Mammon"—had come all the way to this deep underground place to persuade me.
"I'm telling you, if you just come, we're set."
"Go without me. There are plenty of bastards who want to be Demon King. Pick one of them as my substitute and go."
"It's meaningless without you!"
Mammon huffed and stamped her feet.
"You're the strongest, you're the Great Demon King, so how can we do it without you?"
"You don't mean a word of that."
"Hey, come on, please! If you just participate, I'll do it ten times—no, a hundred times!"
"I have no intention of doing it."
"You're saying that without even hearing what it is?!"
"Yeah. Right here."
Mammon fired a Magic Bullet at me.
I stayed lying still and caught the Magic Bullet with my hand, crushing it.
"I'm not going, so stop asking."
"Hey, you loser. Are you just going to stay stuck here?"
Tears welled up in Mammon's eyes.
"Don't you have any thought of getting revenge on the humans?! Are you just going to lie here dead for the rest of your life?!"
"Yeah. Trying to prick my pride like that won't work."
I waved my hand at Mammon.
"If you really want to go, do it yourselves. Don't try to drag me in when I'm staying put."
"...You're saying that even though you know what the Demon Realm is like right now?"
A murderous gleam entered Mammon's eyes.
"The mana flowing through the leylines is being depleted now. There's no mana left to feed the children being born, so the parent entities are sharing their mana just to keep them alive. If this goes on, every Demonfolk in this world will become 'mortals.'"
"That has nothing to do with me."
"Even if the world itself is destroyed in the end? Even if the planet itself dies?"
"I've lived long enough, so dying together with the Demon Realm wouldn't be so bad. Whatever you say, it's useless. I'm...."
Whoosh.
"I'm going to sleep here, so don't disturb me. Get lost."
"...You rotten bastard."
Mammon left using teleportation magic.
Mammon had long researched how the Demon Realm and Demonfolk might survive, so naturally she was furious that I refused both her research and the plan all six Demon Kings intended to carry out. She had, in fact, been furious.
But that was no reason for me to step in.
Even if their plan succeeded and turned the Middle Realm into a world of Demonfolk, I would simply sleep in this world.
There was nothing I wanted to achieve.
No purpose in life, no goal.
All that remained for me was to breathe and sleep.
'If anything, that's fine.'
If the eternal sleep called death ever came for me, I would quietly close my eyes and accept it.
Probably.
So.
"...I should just sleep."
With the resolve never to wake, no matter who comes to attack.
Not sleeping lightly in a human body, but sleeping in my "true body."
"Polymorph release."
Rrrrumble...
My body slowly began to grow.
My field of vision widened, and the mana flowing through my body began to overflow boundlessly.
"......."
A size that filled the entire cave.
I closed my ears with mana, shut off all my senses, and lay down on the floor.
In order to sleep.
* * *
I saw a vision.
Inside a dark cave.
A girl, her hands bound with rope, was walking through the cave with other boys and girls her age.
Inside the cave was an enormous hollow, and within it sat a single lonely altar.
—O great Demon King! I call forth your soul to this place!
The girl blankly scanned her surroundings.
Upon the altar were figures in black robes with white hoods pulled over their heads.
With only two holes where the eyes showed, the robed figures had no other distinguishing features, and each of them began muttering something with a dagger in hand.
The girl fell into terror.
It felt as though those daggers would be plunged into her at any moment.
But her body would not move.
Contrary to her mind, which was beginning to sharpen, her body walked blankly toward the altar as if being controlled by the unidentified Black Mages.
And the girl's expectation proved correct.
O Demon King, we offer the 660th girl for your sake. Please, descend upon us.
The girl was a sacrifice.
The girl lying before her lay on the altar, her heart torn out.
Even so, the heartless girl moved beyond the altar like a corpse controlled by a Necromancer.
661. 662. And... slowly, her own turn approached.
What happened to the girl after that was unknown.
All that could be known was that she had been the 666th.
Ah, can you hear me?! For your sake, I am sending so many girls to your side like this! My beloved Demon King, please, please, this time, descend upon this place!
Great Demon King, Belphegor!!
The girl lay down on the altar.
It was not by her own will.
I don't want to die.
Save me.
Thunk.
A sharp dagger pierced the girl's heart.
And then.
The girl's blue eyes slowly began to stain red.
"Ooh, the great Great Demon King has come!"
"...Me?"
I woke from sleep.