Reunion (3)
The corridor leading to the northern sector was dark. Soldiers' corpses lay tangled on the floor. I couldn't tell if they were Sahadin's men or the rebels. They were all demons anyway—no difference in appearance. Cracks spiderwebbed the walls. It wasn't like someone had smashed them from outside; it felt more like they'd been twisted from within.
……Gartia's authority. The power to crumple space. The entire sector was blanketed in it. That must be why my shadows weren't working right. The air grew heavier the further I walked down the hall.
Three rebels burst out from the end of the corridor. One with a sword, two with spears. I gripped a shadow and sliced the sword-bearer's arm, ducked low to evade the blade's tip, and slashed the second one's throat. The third tried to flee, but its upper and lower halves separated mid-stride. No time to wipe the blood—I bolted north.
Finally, I reached the end of the northern sector. Beneath a half-collapsed ceiling stretched a wide open space. Probably a training ground once. I'd never been here before, but it felt right. And in the center stood Gartia.
Its multiple layers of eyes fixed solely on me. No other demons around. Was it alone, or leading the rebellion elsewhere?
"You. Came."
"You made it sound like I should."
"Didn't. Expect. You. To come. Yourself."
"I'm the Demon King. Gotta handle a little rebellion personally, right?"
A few of Gartia's eyes narrowed. Hard to tell if it was a smile or contempt.
"A Hero. Who lets one live. Is no. Demon King."
"That again?"
"Killing. Livaton. Unforgivable. Two of. The Four Heavenly Kings. Who's. To blame."
"One was gone from the start. You said it vanished ages ago."
"That's why. I can't. Allow it. My comrade. Slain by. The Demon King. And I'm to. Take your side?"
Gartia gripped weapons in its six hands. Every blade pointed straight at me.
"You lack. The right. To rule. That's. My judgment."
"Judgment? An NPC passing judgment?"
Gartia kicked off the floor. I tried to spread my shadows, but space twisted again. The darkness that should have risen from below veered sideways instead, and Gartia lunged at my side. I twisted away. I slapped the following blade with my palm, altering its path. The second sword came down from above, the third at my knee. The fourth aimed for my head.
I condensed a shadow into a blade just long enough to wield—short enough not to warp. It parried the second and third strikes. Without the Demon King's mana from the throne, my arm would've been severed. I leaned back as the blade whistled past my nose.
Clang, screeeeech—! The barrage continued. No room to think. Six hands attacked without mercy. I blocked and dodged as calmly as I could, countering where possible. No effect. Maybe living for centuries made demons this tough.
A brief lull. I took two deep breaths, checking my condition. My palm throbbed—price of deflecting blades barehanded. And Gartia wielded mana, so my shadows were still fucked. Anything longer than arm's reach tore apart in its authority; precise control was a pipe dream.
"My orders. Were simple. One task."
"……What?"
"If the Demon King. Strays. From the path. Stop her."
"Tch."
"I'll enact. The previous Demon King's. Will."
Gartia charged again, giving no respite. Speed unfit for that massive frame. It hurled one sword, then smashed a chitin-covered fist down at me. I dodged, but the shockwave cracked the floor. Shrapnel grazed my cheek, stinging.
Two more arcs incoming. No—three. One fist trailed behind. It hit my shoulder. No shattered bone, but I tumbled across the ground, slamming into the wall before stopping. Through a crack in the ceiling, I saw stars.
……Same ones I watched every night from the western tower?
"……Hurts."
I tried to rise, but my body wouldn't obey. Gartia's foot pinned me down. Its myriad eyes glared.
"This is. Your Demon King."
"……Get your foot off."
"Three months. You did. Nothing. Just sat. On the throne. Waiting for. The Hero."
"So what? Gonna kill me?"
"I'll strip. Your Demon King name. Then lead. The demons. Myself."
Pressure built, ribs screaming. I kept extending shadows, but Gartia's authority consumed the space around us.
"One. Question."
"……What."
"Do you. Regret it."
"Regret?"
"Killing. Livaton."
"……."
I didn't know. Really didn't anymore. NPC this, real that—whatever. But one thing was clear.
"Pfft, same situation? I'd kill her again."
All of Gartia's eyes narrowed.
"Then. I have. My answer."
It raised its six weapons. All aimed at my vitals.
"……You're really gonna kill me?"
"I'll take. Your Demon King mana. The vessel. Must break."
They descended slowly. Flaunting the kill. So this is how I die. Betrayed by a subordinate—worst game route ever?
……Game. Still thinking it's a game, huh.
Just before the blade tips touched my chest, I looked up into Gartia's eyes. Rage, disappointment, conviction. All raw emotions. Too vivid to dismiss as NPC feelings. I'd known this world wasn't a game. Since I failed to kill Adelaide. Or maybe much earlier. When I bought her that caramel. Asked what she wanted to eat. Stared blankly at her sleeping face.
I'd known all along. Just pretended not to.
……Haha. A bit regrettable. Admitting it only now, at the end. If I'd accepted it from the start, would things have been different between us? Yeah, Adelaide. I get it now. I miss y—
Boom—! The wall exploded. Golden light flooded in. Gartia's body froze.
Scraaaaaape—! A figure I knew inside out, one I'd pictured endlessly in my mind. Blue hair to her shoulders. Holy sword in her left hand, dagger in her right. Unseen since we parted in Istius, yet instantly recognizable.
"Adel……?"
Adelaide parried Gartia's weapons with her holy sword. Thud—the whole training ground shook. Gartia stepped back. Its foot lifted from my chest; I could finally breathe. A deep cough wracked me. Ribs creaked but held.
"Hero, already! Here?!"
"Three months was plenty."
Adelaide positioned herself between me and Gartia. Light enveloped her entirely, extending to my prone form. It stung my Demon King body, but warmth dominated.
She turned, looking down at me. Our eyes met. Three months since Istius—smashing the inn, three days of fighting, then parting.
Her lips parted.
"I'll kill you myself."
The voice from my memories. But its weight was anything but light.
"Not like this. Not here."
My eyes burned. Three months atop the western tower, all crashing in at once. Throne side effect or real? Didn't matter now.
"……Adel……?"
"Shut up and stand."
She faced Gartia again. Light intensified from her holy sword. Gartia's eyes scanned her. Killing intent warped space.
"The Hero. Come to save. The Demon King?"
"Not saving. Just keeping what's mine."
"Yours?"
"She's mine to kill. Hands off."
Gartia's spatial distortion poured toward Adelaide. Floor twisted, walls bent. She thrust her holy sword forward. Light burst from the tip, shredding the warp head-on. My shadows were helpless against it, but her light cut differently.
She kicked off the floor. One step. Gartia swung a fist. Adelaide's body bent sideways, slipping under. Sharper than our three-day brawl in Istius. Three months of honing.
Two steps. Four weapon-hands slashed, but the light's wake repelled them.
Three steps. Gartia crossed its arms, twisting space to widen the gap. Light pierced through, shattering the distortion like glass. A line etched into Gartia's chitin armor. Vertical, diagonal. Its alien body began to split.
"This is……."
Gartia's eyes dimmed one by one.
"Why the Demon King…… Let you live……."
Two eyes lingered on me to the end. Understanding. Kinship.
Gartia's tilting body crashed down. Light seeped through the chitin cracks, crumbling its form to dust. A demon who'd lived centuries. Questioned my right to rule. Sought vengeance for Livaton. Had its own convictions.
A person. That much was certain.
"……."
Adelaide lowered her holy sword. Her expression toward me was stormy—anger? Worry? Hard to say.
……Worry? Nah, my imagination.
"Can you stand?"
"……Yeah, but."
I tried, but my knees buckled. Her hand grabbed my arm, hauling me up.
"What the hell is this?"
"……Jealous? Don't help then."
"Wasn't helping."
"You just grabbed my—"
"Shut it."
She slung my arm over her shoulder. Height difference made it awkward—she was half a head taller. Leaning like this, the gap felt real.
"We're escaping the citadel. Residuals will swarm if we stay."
"……Sahadin'll handle them."
"Doesn't matter. You're not in good shape."
"……Why save me."
Her step faltered.
"Weren't you here to kill me?"
"I am."
"Then why—"
"After you pay your debt. Then I kill you."
"……That's contradictory—urk!"
Pain exploded in my side mid-sentence. The stomped spot reopening?
"Told you to shut up!"
"……Fuck, it really hurts……."
"Hurts? Keep your mouth shut. It splits every step."
"It's splitting 'cause you're walking too fa—"
"One more word, I drop you."
"……."
I shut up. We hurried through the citadel corridors. Rebellion's aftermath echoed in combat sounds everywhere, but this path was quiet. We stepped over fallen soldiers repeatedly. Some I'd killed earlier, some our side slain first. Demons I'd never named. Just numbers in Sahadin's reports.
From behind, Sahadin's faint voice carried—rallying our forces. He'd handle it. That NPC… no, that person was always competent.
Adelaide's hand on my back was firmer than expected. We hadn't leaned like this in Istius.
……Or maybe I'd never let myself.
Thump. My heart raced faster than usual.