The Real Story of Bael's Defeat
Most of what people say when they’re drunk is bullshit.
“Shin…sia? Cynthia? Yeah! That was definitely her name!”
“………….”
“I heard she got beaten pretty badly… The return procession was practically a funeral. You, who didn’t go watch, are the real winner. Sigh, I only went and got myself all worked up for nothing.”
“…………”
“Oh, right. But why do you hate the hero party so much? Don’t tell me… you’re actually a spy for the demon king’s army?”
“Hmph.”
Maybe it was because I had to listen to this idiot, but the beer suddenly tasted like shit.
“I haven’t even laid eyes on the demon king’s army.”
“That makes sense. If you’d run into those bastards, you’d have been a corpse a long time ago.”
The tavern owner chimed in with his usual good-natured cheer. To normal people, the demon king’s army was like ghosts or goblins they hoped never to meet in their entire lives. But my situation was different. I had wanted to meet them. I had wanted to fight them.
If not for that damn hero who kept yapping, “It’s still too early to engage the demon king’s forces. We head for the Demon Continent after we’ve built up our strength,” we would have settled things several times over by now.
That worthless Leonhart bastard. He acted all strict and solemn on the outside, but in truth he was a coward who deliberately steered the adventure away from any route that might lead to the demon king’s army. The rest of the party were just brainless bitches who swallowed every word out of the hero’s mouth. No matter how much I pushed them to go hunt the demon king, they refused to listen.
So after three whole years, the only thing we had to show for it was the head of one of the Four Heavenly Kings—Bael. Even thinking about that fight still brings tears to my eyes.
“Honestly, I got pretty pissed when you badmouthed the hero, but after seeing the injured party with my own eyes… I have to admit I’m disappointed. They even said there were casualties…”
“………”
“Hm? You get real quiet whenever casualties come up.”
“Not really.”
Must be my imagination.
“Still, the hero must have had his reasons. There’s no way the actual hero would lose to a bunch of orcs, right? And didn’t he take down one of the Four Heavenly Kings? That… Bael guy?”
“Bael.”
“Right, Bael! You know your stuff.”
“Sigh…”
Just hearing the name made me crave another drink. The memory of that fight with Bael refused to fade.
It happened during one of those stupid sightseeing tours around the outskirts of the city—nowhere near the Demon Continent. We ran into a real monster. Even I, the one who’d been singing about killing the demon king, felt my blood run cold when the sky suddenly darkened and that blood-red winged bastard appeared. I wanted to run.
The moment we met, I knew it. If our half-baked hero party fought him, we’d be wiped out. The demon king subjugation would become impossible, and my reunion with my little sister would drift even further away.
“Everyone run! Leave this to me!”
How many times had I cursed those words? The ones that dragged me straight into hell.
“Ugh…”
“W-what’s wrong with you all of a sudden?”
“Nothing. Just remembered something unpleasant…”
Thanks to the Rune of Immortality, I can never die. Even if Bael tore my limbs off like scraps of paper, even if he shoved a demon spear down my throat until it came out my asshole, I wouldn’t die.
But the pain… the pain was never blocked.
“Uwaaaaaagh!! Please stop! Please, for the love of god, stop!!”
“Kyahahahaha!! You’ll pay for letting the hero escape with that body of yours!”
I had no real combat skills besides not dying and secretly buffing the party. So I became nothing more than a toy for Bael, whose hobby was torture.
“What the hell is this guy? He’s still alive? I ripped his eyeballs out! Hey! Stabbed him through the neck. Still alive?”
“Ugh…”
“Wow, this one’s interesting! Kyahahaha! What a fun toy! I’m more interested in you now than the hero!”
Back in fourth grade, I’d been marked by some middle-school thug named Cheol-su. The words “stay after school” had never sounded so terrifying. Bael made that thug look like a saint.
“There! Split his heart in half! Still not dead?! Crushed his shin bones! Ground every single rib into powder! And he’s still alive?!”
“You fucking bastard… I’m too tired to even beg for my life anymore… Just do whatever you want, you monster…”
“You’re the monster here!!”
But as time passed, his attitude began to change. Maybe the fact that I refused to die filled him with some kind of supernatural dread. The torture he once loved so much stopped, and he started backing away.
“You crazy son of a bitch… What the hell are you? Why won’t you die? I even used the highest black magic and instant-death spells! You… you fucking what are you?”
“…Where do you think you’re going? We’re not done. I’m still alive, aren’t I?”
“What more do you want from me?! I’ve already used every torture I know for three months! You freak! You’re not normal. This feels like a nightmare…”
That was something I could relate to. I never thought I’d one day understand the pain of Prometheus, whose liver was eaten by an eagle every morning only to regrow every night.
“With that kind of power you could have run away anytime… Don’t tell me… you’re actually enjoying this? The torture?”
“…What?”
“I’ve heard stories. Those who reach the pinnacle of black magic have their sense of good and evil, pleasure and pain, completely reversed. Did you let yourself get captured on purpose?”
“………….”
“Disgusting. I have no intention of playing along with your sick fetish!”
“So… this is the end?”
“Obviously! I already used up all my mana pouring attack spells on you! Never show your face in front of me again, you pervert!”
He hadn’t eaten, drunk, slept, or rested—just tortured me nonstop. It would’ve been stranger if he still had any mana or stamina left.
Around the time I started thinking Bael’s torture was getting half-hearted, he suddenly packed his bags and fled after coming to some bizarre misunderstanding. I returned to the hero’s party.
“Uwek! You—You fucking what the hell is that body?! Disgusting! Y-you’re actually alive?! Get away! You stink!”
Those were the first words the hero bastard greeted me with after three months. Of course they hadn’t made any plans to rescue me. They’d simply assumed I was dead and continued their meaningless wandering with zero accomplishments, just like always. At least that made them easy to find.
“Uwek! Uweeeek!”
“Lost soul! Return to where you belong!”
“Almighty God Amir, please forgive our sins…”
Jeanne, who had a surprisingly weak stomach, threw up. The elf Sharon mistook me for a ghost and started chanting exorcism spells. Saintess Teresa couldn’t even bear to look at me; she closed her eyes, knelt on the floor, and began praying.
Fucking bastards… Sure, I looked like a corpse from all the torture scars, but wasn’t that a bit much to do to a comrade? Especially when I ended up like this trying to save all of you.
They did apologize later, but at the time I was genuinely hurt. Oh, and of course Leonhart didn’t say a single word of apology. The bastard still had the nerve to call himself a hero.
“Go wash yourself at the hot springs. And stay at least a hundred meters away from us for a while. You reek. Got it?”
“Let’s go kill Bael, Leonhart.”
“What?”
The only real accomplishment this pathetic hero party could claim—the subjugation of one of the Four Heavenly Kings—began with that suggestion from me.
These idiots had formed a party to defeat the demon king, yet when they finally encountered one of the Four Heavenly Kings, they were overjoyed that he ran away and immediately started planning another pointless sightseeing trip. I couldn’t stand the stagnation anymore, so I brought up the one topic they hated hearing.
“If we kill a Heavenly King, the demon king’s forces will be greatly weakened.”
“Are you insane? Or wait—have you been a spy this whole time? Did Bael let you go to lure me into a trap?”
“That’s not it. Bael is currently out of mana and resting.”
“So what?”
“Bael doesn’t distinguish between day and night. He’s a special demon who can stay active without sleeping. Unlike us, who sleep once a day, when he gets tired he sleeps all at once. He can choose when to sleep, but once he does, waking up isn’t easy for him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Once he falls asleep, he won’t wake up until all his fatigue is gone—no matter how much noise is going on around him. That’s why Bael secretly sleeps in a hidden room that no one knows about. Not even the demon king.”
I explained that the hidden room wasn’t far from our location and emphasized how slaying a Heavenly King with the Holy Sword would strengthen the party and earn praise from the entire kingdom.
“Hmm… but…”
Even while imagining the flood of praise he would receive for defeating a Heavenly King, the cowardly hero couldn’t easily make up his mind. Something still bothered him.
“Werther… how do you know all this?”
“……….”
Because I saw it in the game, obviously. But I couldn’t say that.
“Your background is a secret, your age is a secret—everything about you is a secret. It’s suspicious… Are you a demon spy? Are you trying to kill me before I can kill the demon king?”
Oh for fuck’s sake. If only you’d do that, you pathetic piece of shit—I’d even lick your feet. The guy was trembling in fear of Bael but still came up with these grandiose excuses.
In the end, I had to kneel before him and recite for three whole days how much I respected and admired the hero, and how the destruction of the demon king’s army was the sole purpose of my life. Only after covering himself in every protective spell available from the nearby magic tower did the hero finally move his precious ass to the hidden room, surrounded by the party’s protection.
Fucking asshole.
And then he cut the head off the sleeping, defenseless Bael with the Holy Sword. Safely.
If I had to evaluate what the hero did, it was like someone else doing all the work for a skydive—packing the parachute, jumping with the expert, and then taking all the credit while he simply enjoyed the feeling of flying.
Still, he hogged all the glory for himself.
“——That is the truth behind the subjugation of a Heavenly King. Understand now?”
“Oh… I see. So you were a member of the hero’s party. That’s truly surprising. Now I roughly understand why you hate the hero so much.”
“You believe me?”
“Of course! Trusting people is the secret to running a tavern!”
“Haha…”
Honestly, I’d been worried I might have said too much, but the tavern owner responded readily. Of course, I’d edited out the parts about the Rune of Immortality and my true identity, focusing mainly on how much of a cowardly idiot the hero was. Still, spitting out the truth to someone felt surprisingly refreshing. Maybe it was because I’d spent so long sucking up to those bastards that I was mentally exhausted.
In a much better mood, I ordered another beer. Then I remembered my wallet wasn’t exactly in great shape. After all, every coin I earned had gone toward the hero party’s food and travel expenses.
“Ah, forget it. I won’t take your money.”
“…What?”
“From what you said, you worked hard to defeat the demon king. You’re the real hero here. How could I take money from a true hero? Today’s on the house! Order whatever you want!”
“…Thanks.”
I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d eaten until I was stuffed. All the good food had always gone to the hero.
With a trembling heart I ordered a boar hind leg and more beer. The owner brought it without complaint. How long had it been since I last tasted meat? How long since I last enjoyed beer like this?
I ate and drank my fill. By the time the alcohol really hit me, I was so drunk I didn’t notice the faint malice hidden in the tavern owner’s voice.
“By the way… what kind of woman was this Cynthia?”
“Hm? Cynthia? That bitch? Why are you asking about her?”
“Earlier, when you were talking about coming back after being tortured by Bael, you didn’t mention how Cynthia reacted.”
“Ah…?”
Now that he mentioned it, how had Cynthia acted back then?
“What was your relationship with Cynthia?”
“One-sided verbal abuse and harassment… that bitch…”
“I see. You must have really hated her.”
“Is that even a question… Still… at that time…”
That’s right. At that moment, Cynthia hadn’t cursed me. Her face had been stiff the entire time I was recovering; she barely ate.
…Why was that?
Ah, fuck. I don’t know.
“What does it matter? I’m never seeing the hero party again anyway~~ Hic~~”
“……….”
It had been a while since I got this drunk. I passed out right there at the table. I’d always been like this—when I pushed myself too hard with part-time jobs and short naps, I’d fall into such a deep sleep that someone could carry me away and I wouldn’t notice.
Today was exactly that kind of day. I lay slumped over the table, snoring loudly, completely missing the meaningful smile that spread across the tavern owner’s face.
“As I thought… you really were the demon king’s spy.”
When I opened my eyes again, dozens of silver spearheads were pointed at my throat. Fully armed imperial soldiers had surrounded me.
“Ugh… my head. What the hell do you people want?”
“You’re finally awake, you disgusting traitor to humanity!”
A man in an impressive uniform pushed through the soldiers and shouted.
“You are under arrest for the murder of Princess Cynthia!”
What the… is this bullshit?
“There must be some misunderstanding. I’ve come close to being killed by Cynthia, but I’ve never killed her.”
“Nonsense! The hero has already given his testimony! Denying it is useless!”
It looked like that Leonhart bastard had pulled some shit and pinned the blame on me. Thanks to him, I was about to have a reunion with the hero and the imperial palace—people I never wanted to see again in my life.