That Hero Is a Dangerous One
That hero was a dangerous one.
Belzebeuty, Prime Minister of the Demon Kingdom, served as both loyal subject and chief advisor to her monarch, the Demon King. At the same time, having grown up alongside her since childhood as a true friend, she had always placed the safety of her lord and the nation above all else, devoting herself completely to that cause. And in this very moment, Belzebeuty had come to the conclusion that a truly grave crisis now threatened her lord—no, her monarch the Demon King—and the entire Demon Kingdom.
The hero had requested a private meal with the Demon King, and she had accepted. Some might call it an overreaction to something as simple as sharing a meal, yet from Belzebeuty’s perspective the situation could not be dismissed so lightly.
The hero bastard asked Her Majesty to eat with him. And he chose this after rejecting every other reward of wealth and glory. That can only mean…
A monarch was the nation. Therefore, the fall of the monarch inevitably spelled the fall of the state itself. Of course, some countries within the racial alliance governed through parliaments rather than sovereigns, yet even they could not escape the fundamental truth that the collapse of their leaders led directly to national ruin.
Even so, the chance that the hero would use this opportunity to assassinate the Demon King was extremely low. Weapons were strictly forbidden at any meal with her, and although the two would be alone, the constant coming and going of servants and the armed royal guard stationed at the entrance made any successful attempt nearly impossible.
No—the “fall” Belzebeuty feared was of a different nature. It concerned the hero winning the Demon King’s favor.
By choosing to spend time with the Demon King instead of any material reward, the hero had revealed that he might be aiming for her heart… or, depending on how one interpreted it, for the country itself.
You hero bastard… Just as your power is immense, so are the desires you carry. And you’re far more cunning than I gave you credit for.
Belzebeuty had already known from prior events that the hero was no fool. Yet this latest development forced her to completely revise her assessment of him. He was no mere opportunist chasing personal gain. He was a terrifyingly dangerous being who, armed with overwhelming power and ability, pursued what he craved with both greed and ruthless precision.
So he plans to seize the entire country by capturing Her Majesty’s heart? Of course… Only someone with such an ambition would side with us demons while still being human—moreover, the strongest human alive, the hero. What a frightening creature. I must protect Her Majesty and this nation from his clutches at all costs.
Her wariness and concern toward the hero deepening, Belzebeuty steeled her resolve. She would warn the Demon King sitting before her about this fact—about the wicked scheme that hero was undoubtedly plotting.
After setting the dinner appointment with the hero, the Demon King had been wrestling with complicated emotions. Having just heard the full story, Belzebeuty kept her usual serene expression and spoke in a calm, measured voice.
“Your Majesty, if it pleases you, may this servant offer a word on the matter?”
“Of course. Speak freely. This King was hoping to hear your thoughts in any case.”
Belzebeuty had always provided the most accurate and optimal counsel. Trusting that she could clarify the current confusion, the Demon King listened attentively.
“First… before addressing the heart of the issue, Your Majesty must already sense that this is no ordinary situation. The dinner the hero requested is absolutely not born of innocent intent.”
“Indeed. To be honest, This King’s mind remains in turmoil because of it. After rejecting every possible luxury and honor, why would the hero insist on something so strange…?”
Watching the subtle shift in the Demon King’s expression, Belzebeuty continued, her voice carrying its usual sharp edge.
“Precisely. It is a most peculiar request—and that peculiarity itself reveals exactly what the hero is truly after.”
“What… do you mean?”
“Consider this. Your Majesty clearly told the hero you would grant him anything he desired. Yet what he chose was neither wealth, nor power, nor territory. He asked only to spend time with Your Majesty. In other words…”
Belzebeuty’s gaze grew cold as she regarded her monarch. Then came the grave warning.
“What the hero desires… is none other than Your Majesty herself.”
“Huh…? This King… you mean?”
Bewilderment flashed across the Demon King’s face. Observing her lord’s reaction, Belzebeuty continued calmly.
“Yes. From this servant’s perspective, the hero is clearly attempting to win Your Majesty’s heart by any means. His excessive achievements during the recent campaign and his request for this meal as reward were undoubtedly calculated steps toward that goal.”
“The hero wants This King’s heart… But… why?”
“I regret that this servant cannot yet say how far his schemes extend. However, it is unlikely to be for any benevolent reason. Please remain on your guard. The one called the hero is far more dangerous than Your Majesty realizes. Do not lower your defenses for even a moment during the meal.”
“Mmm…”
The Demon King nodded slowly. Yet even as she did, Belzebeuty’s heart remained heavy with anxiety and a deep, painful regret.
Honestly, if the situation weren’t this dire, I would have urged her to cancel such a risky dinner at once…
From a purely rational standpoint, the wisest course would have been to prevent any contact between the Demon King and the hero—an inherently untrustworthy figure. Belzebeuty knew her lord was inexperienced in such personal matters; there was no telling what poison that hero’s silver tongue might pour into her ears.
Yet, regrettably, the Demon Kingdom’s current plight made it impossible to refuse this poisoned chalice. The racial alliance’s massive offensive continued even now. For Belzebeuty, who had served as prime minister for a full century, it was the worst crisis she had ever faced. Though the Demon King’s overwhelming might had repeatedly extinguished the most urgent threats, even that power would eventually reach its limit.
In such a time, the sword known as the hero—whose strength surpassed even the Demon King’s—was the single most vital key to overcoming this desperate crisis. Belzebeuty understood that truth all too well. It was why she had stopped short of telling her monarch that the hero might be targeting the country itself, and why she could not cancel the dinner. Without concrete proof, the importance of the hero was simply too great to act on speculation alone.
At least I have given Your Majesty a warning. She should handle herself appropriately… But I must continue watching closely. The moment that hero tries anything suspicious, I will act immediately.
“Haa…”
Rose petals floated across the surface of the steaming bath. The tub was large enough to hold ten people comfortably, and within it the Demon King sat alone, not a single thread covering her body.
This was normally the time when she washed away the exhaustion of war and found peace. As always, she slowly cleansed her nape, shoulders, collarbones, and her characteristically full breasts, trying to dissolve the knots of tension that had gathered throughout her body.
Yet at this moment, the heart of the Demon King who scrubbed herself so carefully held none of its usual tranquility. Instead, worry and nervous anticipation for what was to come swirled inside her like a storm.
The hero… wants This King’s heart, she says…
She understood the implications of what Belzebeuty had told her. For someone in the position of monarch, receiving her favor could easily translate into acquiring great power—enormous power. Especially when the recipient was a human hero rather than one of her own kind, it was naturally something to guard against. That was what Belzebeuty feared, and the Demon King herself largely agreed on the danger.
Even so, at this very instant, what the Demon King felt far more strongly than caution was an unfamiliar, fluttering emotion she could not name.
But… This King cannot understand. If that is the case, this dinner is no different from a poisoned apple… so why am I waiting for the moment with such anticipation that I even prepare myself with a bath like this…?
It was an emotion called expectation, one she could not easily cast aside despite knowing she should remain vigilant.
Feeling the same contradictory emotions she had experienced when she visited him to praise his earlier achievements, the Demon King submerged herself until only the area beneath her eyes remained above the water and slowly exhaled.
Bubbles rose in the tub with cheerful little gurgles, as though giving voice to her inner turmoil. Staring at them, the Demon King thought to herself that she wanted to discover the cause of this confusing feeling as quickly as possible.
Perhaps… I may find the answer during this dinner. I pray that it will be so…