Useful Little Bitch Accountant (2)
Suddenly, the door to the visits burst open, and Bertrand came charging out. But he wasn't alone. He grabbed someone by the collar and slammed them straight into the corridor floor.
"You fucking bastard, how dare you disturb someone sleeping!"
Bertrand, his temper flaring hot, drove his fist into the face of the man pinned under his grip.
"Kyaaak!"
Della let out a startled scream at the brutal scene, and Idwild stepped in front of her, her face drained of color.
"Who the hell sent you! The Demon King, that fucker?! Did he send you?!"
Bertrand swung his fist down again. Idwild pulled her arm back, hiding Della behind her, and examined the man getting pummeled.
It wasn't human. It was a massive bat that looked vaguely like one—a monster she knew well: a Kekene.
"Goddess's... puppet... trash..."
Kekene were supposed to be monsters incapable of speech, yet this one was mumbling something through gritted teeth.
"You retarded fuck..."
"Fuck this!"
Bertrand smashed his fist down hard, pulverizing the Kekene's face.
"Ugh, seriously. What a pain in the ass."
Della clung to Idwild's back, trembling, terrified of the raging Bertrand. Idi felt the same.
"Huh? Why are you guys out here?"
Bertrand finally noticed his employees and asked.
"We heard weird noises... so we came out... what is that...?"
"Eek! It's a monster!"
Just then, Celereja emerged from her room with a shriek, holy power surging in both hands. Idi spasmed and yanked Della back into the room. At the same time, a beam of holy power shot from Celereja's hands, striking the Kekene dead-on. The hit spot smoked and charred black.
"Saintess. Don't shoot. It dirties the air."
"But it's a monster...!"
"It's already dead."
"Oh... right..."
Embarrassed, Celereja clasped her hands that had fired the holy beam, twisting her body slightly as she glanced at Bertrand.
"No big deal, so head back to your room."
"W-well... goodnight then... Mr. Bertrand..."
She lowered her eyes, cheeks flushing, gave a shy bow, and retreated inside.
Left alone, Bertrand sighed down at the Kekene corpse. He grabbed its leg and dragged it downstairs to the first floor.
He dumped the Kekene's body in the Buren River and returned to the inn. If monsters kept showing up like this, it would be a real problem. They came when he was away, and if Della ever ran into one alone... Plus, right now it was just these weaklings, but if a giant one showed up, the inn would go bankrupt on the spot.
And honestly, he was pissed. After killing Suna, he'd vowed that the next monster would mean hunting down whoever sent it—and here it was today.
He knocked on the saintess's door. Celereja opened it soon after.
"Saintess. You still up?"
"Y-yes...! C-come in..."
Her face flushed, she gave a shy smile and tugged his sleeve. He gently removed her hand and said,
"Got something to discuss. Let's go to the girls' room."
"Oh... talk... okay..."
Looking a bit disappointed, as if expecting something else, Celereja followed him. He knocked on Della and Idi's door.
"Can I come in?"
"Come in..."
A faint soap scent wafted as he entered. Della and Idi sat side by side on the bed, not asleep. He pulled over the desk chair and sat; the saintess took the empty bed.
Della, still calming her pounding heart, avoided his eyes. Idi, beside her, asked,
"Bertrand... what happened to the Kekene...?"
"Threw it in the river."
"Why was a Kekene here...?"
"That's what I came to talk about."
He explained the three monster incidents—from Nerugama to Suna to Kekene.
Della shuddered, recalling Nerugama. Celereja's face grew grave. Knowledgeable about monsters, Idi tilted her head.
"Weird... those monsters don't have the brains to talk..."
Idi crossed her arms, deep in thought—pushing her already huge breasts up even more.
"All three said the same thing... different habitats, but each came here one by one... someone sent them on purpose."
"That's what I think. Got a rough idea who."
"Who...?"
"Just a hunch, so I'm going to check."
Della asked worriedly,
"You're going to see who sent the monsters...? Isn't that dangerous? Why not report to the guards...?"
"Guards are useless. Anyway, I'll be away from the inn for a day—that's what I came to say."
"Please don't go. What if you get hurt...?"
"I'll be fine. And if I don't go now, a nastier one might hit tomorrow."
Celereja chimed in,
"Then take me with you? Safer with me along, right?"
Della flinched, watching his face.
"No. You're here too, Saintess. If you're gone, how will these two handle the inn?"
"True, but..."
"Just one day—Della, mind the kitchen. Stick to stew, shouldn't be hard."
"Yes sir!"
Relieved the saintess wasn't going, Della beamed.
"Idi. You can summon a hell horse, right? Call one to the front yard."
"Hell horse...? Then I can't heat bathwater while you're riding it..."
"No choice. Can't make the round trip in a day without it."
"Where the hell are you even going...?"
He stood without answering. Telling them Demon King's Castle would freak them out.
"Prep it now."
"At night? Too dangerous..."
Della whined; Celereja urged morning departure. But leaving now meant back by tomorrow night.
Idi went out to summon the hell horse. He grabbed his cloak and holy sword. Celereja and Della followed to the yard.
A massive horse wreathed in black flames stood there. Celereja instinctively powered up holy energy.
Idi paled at her.
"Saintess... hold back please..."
"Ah, sorry. Reflex..."
He mounted the hell horse and looked down.
"See you soon."
"Be careful!"
Without a word, the hell horse turned toward the yard gate and bolted forward.
The hell horse was a summon from another realm, unbound by this world's physics. Unlike normal horses, it could run at absurd speeds. That's how he reached the Demon King's Castle—normally a week's ride—in half a day.
Even at that speed, no wind tore his clothes; felt like riding a normal horse. Magic was mysterious.
He gazed up at the Demon King's Castle. Still majestic, but emptier than before. No surprise—owner dead, house vacant.
But that dead owner seemed revived. Fucking idiot.
Should've died clean the first time instead of thrashing for a second death.
He parked the hell horse and walked in. The entrance had no-trespassing signs and barbed wire. He sliced them with the holy sword and entered.
Inside was much like last year: grand pillars, statues, lavish red carpets showing past opulence. But massacre traces lingered in the corners.
Bodies of monsters he'd slain—half-rotted or skeletal—littered the place; walls and floors stained with blood.
The Demon King had scraped up nearby monsters for defense, anticipating him—but failed. Giant breeds were near-extinct from his decade of hero work. Demons answered the call, but couldn't match the Goddess's holy power.
So the Demon King threw all remaining forces at him and offered his neck.
Even revived, with few monsters left, he'd be a vegetable. Probably why only weaklings were sent—to poke without real threat. Bertrand's guess.
But the moron, revived, should've focused on survival—not suicide.
Musing, he headed to the grand hall with the throne.
The doors were shut. He'd left them open last time.
Faint light filtered into the dim hall from high broken windows, shining right on the throne.
Something odd caught his eye on it.
"What the hell is that...?"