A Useful Demon Accountant (9)
We headed to the outskirts of the city to retrieve the Hell Horse I'd stashed away. The beast hadn't budged an inch from where I'd left it, standing stock-still just as I'd commanded.
Pelle glanced at it with a flicker of surprise in her eyes, but she quickly schooled her expression into cool indifference as she turned to me. "Get on. We're riding this back."
"How long will it take?"
"Less than half a day."
Pelle eyed the Hell Horse for a moment before clambering up. Unlike a normal horse, the thing was massive, with no saddle or proper tack to speak of. She struggled, grunting as she clung to its flank. When I moved to help, she snapped at me in a sharp tone. "Don't touch me. I can handle it myself."
And with that, she hauled herself onto its back. She must really hate my guts. The woman had built a grave for the Demon King herself—how could she not? She'd lopped off her boss's head without a second thought.
If she kept up that icy attitude back at the inn, it might cause problems... Still, her ability to preserve ingredients fresh for an entire year with the Preservation Ritual was too huge a boon to pass up. Sure, other demons might know it too, but good luck finding them—and even if you did, they might not have the looks to work at an inn.
Orkog and Ammugar were about as human-like as demons got, and the same went for Pelle. The rest? Especially the aggressive ones—they looked so monstrous it was hard to tell them from actual beasts.
For now, she was the best option. Her personality was a price worth paying.
I swung up behind her and urged the Hell Horse into motion. Pelle leaned forward, pressing a hand to the nape of its neck like she couldn't stand even brushing against me. She clearly harbored massive hatred toward me, but the situation had her bottling it up tight.
Not that I blamed her. I'd smashed her cushy job, buried her boss in a tomb, then barged in and dragged her off. She was only playing nice now because I'd helped her out and she owed me her life as collateral... But someday, she'd snap in some way or another.
Subduing a single demon with a backstab would be easy enough... but how the hell do I tame this one?
─────
We arrived at the inn around deep dawn. Kali, sensing our approach and coming out to greet me, spotted the Hell Horse, tucked tail, and bolted back into her doghouse.
Pelle dismounted without a word, scanning the inn impassively. "This is the place you'll be working."
She gave a short nod in response.
I eyed the frosty demon for a moment. Now that everything was settled—her employment sorted, brought all the way back here—it was finally time to ask. "Hey. Did you send those monsters after me?"
Pelle turned slowly, meeting my gaze. "What monsters?"
Her eyes held no trace of deception. But no sincerity either. From this alone, I couldn't tell truth from lie.
Simple reason I'd waited till now to ask: to keep even the slightest emotion from clouding my judgment on bringing her along. If she'd admitted to it, I might've second-guessed myself or just killed her in a rage. So I'd avoided confirming it altogether and stayed purely rational.
She was too damn useful to screw over some petty grudge. And now that she was here, it didn't matter anyway—sent 'em or not, she was in my grasp, fully controllable.
"Let's head in."
Inside the hall, a dim candle flickered at the bar where Della dozed with her head down. She jerked up at the door's creak, spotting me. "Master!"
"Why're you sleeping there?"
"I was waiting for you."
Della rushed over, then froze at the sight of Pelle behind me. "Uh...?"
Her eyes locked on the horns atop Pelle's head, wide with uncertainty. First demon she'd ever seen, probably.
"This is Pelle, our new hire. She's a demon."
"A d-demon...?!"
Della stared at her in fear. Pelle met her gaze with cold detachment, utterly unmoved.
"Um... h-hello... I'm Della..."
With no reply from Pelle, I had to step in. "She's always a bit like this. She'll warm up."
"R-right... anyway... nice to meet you... let's get along..."
Still no response, so Della fidgeted awkwardly, wringing her hands.
"Show Pelle to an empty room on the third floor, then get some rest yourself."
"Got it, Master."
Pelle stared blankly at Della, who mustered an awkward smile and led her to the stairs. "This way, please, Pelle..."
Once they were up, I drew the Holy Sword and hung it on the wall behind the bar. But it blazed with light sensing her demonic presence, so I sheathed it again. This'd be hell on the eyes all day. For now, leave it sheathed—maybe have Idwild bathe it in holy water later. Might work.
The ledger for my absence was neatly kept in Della's tidy script. A quick scan showed the inn had run fine without me for a day. Hired the right staff, alright. Della especially—always studying this stuff, super useful. Idwild looked dim but was surprisingly diligent.
Here's hoping Pelle pulls her weight, even if not quite at their level... Celereja might flip seeing her tomorrow and blast holy beams everywhere. And if more monsters keep coming... headache city. Should've just dragged Orkog and Ammugar here for security. Nah—paying wages for that feels wasteful. Plus, they're scary-looking. Red-skinned hunk and bespectacled middle-aged dude clashing with my pretty-girl staff? Bad optics.
Better have Idwild make another statue for patrols. Anyway, bed time.
─────
Next morning, Della handled breakfast prep in my stead since I'd crashed late. The ever-diligent Idwild lit the hearth and set the table. I rubbed sleep from my eyes, yawning as I slumped down. Pelle sat across from me, looking deeply uncomfortable.
Idwild greeted her without much surprise or fear. Shockingly, Pelle even exchanged brief introductions.
Demons and black mages must vibe somehow.
Then came the problem: Celereja. Down last, she paused mid-stair, tilting her head at Pelle. "Why the horns...?"
Pelle ignored her, quietly dipping bread in her soup.
Celereja stared at the horns, then her eyes bulged. "Demon...! It's a demon!!"
"Gah! Saintess! Don't!"
Her hands glowed with holy power. Idwild knocked over her bowl fleeing. I stood, shielding Pelle's back. "Saintess. Hold on."
Too late—she thrust her hands forward, blasting a holy beam straight into my chest.
"Ow..."
Deadly to demons or black mages, but my human torso held up fine.
"Oh no...! Bertrand...!"
Celereja rushed over, plastering herself to my chest, hands roaming. She looked up. "You okay...?"
"Fine. But this demon starts work today, so no blasting holy beams willy-nilly."
"A demon working at the inn?!"
Her shy blush vanished into a harsh snarl. Anyone'd think she was bipolar. "Bertrand! How could you...? Don't you know what they did last year...?"
"That's over. Anyway, I decided it—so we all get along."
"But still!"
I pressed a finger to her lips. She softened instantly, tongue flicking out to lick it.
"Finish eating and head to the temple."
"Y-yes... okay..."
Celereja sat primly. Pelle grabbed her half-eaten soup bowl and stood.
"Pelle, eat more."
Ignoring Della's urging, she marched to the kitchen.
"That bitchy demon..."
Celereja ground her teeth toward the kitchen, her sweet smile for me gone.
Real split-personality vibes. No helping it.
"Soup spilled..."
Idwild returned from her escape, staring forlornly at the mess. Della fetched a refill; Idwild mopped up.
Celereja finished and left for the temple. Guests soon came down for breakfast before checking out.
In the kitchen, Pelle had found an apron and tied it on. No instructions yet, but she was already seeking work—self-starter type.
She shot me a sour glare before heading to the hall.
That attitude'll get her chewed out by guests... Pair her with Della? Later worry.
I tweaked Della's soup seasoning, prepped sides. She and Idwild ferried plates out.
Pelle, unprompted, inspected the pantry off the kitchen, jotting notes on paper with a pencil.
Done, she vanished somewhere. Mid-rush, she returned, standing by me. "Where's the ingredient ledger?"
"Huh?"
"Where's the ingredient management ledger?"
"Uh? Don't have one."
We needed ledgers eventually, but small scale so far— all in my head.
Pelle sighed deeply. "What now?"
"What do you mean, what? Stop talking in fragments."
"Raise my pay."
"The fuck? Outta nowhere?"